Woke one morning in Provence, to find a big, good-looking grasshopper hanging out on the side of a wine glass. The evening before, we'd eaten in (our rooms at La Grande Bégude were lovely): the local epicerie had provided fresh chevre, saucisson, olives, tapenades, bread, fruit and a bottle of local Cotes de Luberon rosé. On the table with the remains of our meal, was this glass, on which Mlle. Sauterelle had taken up residence. Our newfound friend was placed gently on the windowsill...
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9:22:34 PM
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