Castor

Simone de Beauvoir and Belle et Bonne are riding together at a leisurely pace behind the main peloton in Stage Five of the Tour De France. Since yesterday they have become the best of friends.

Belle et Bonne: Isn't it funny how their heads are at different heights and yet their bottoms are all on the same level!

Simone de Beauvoir: Yes, is is amusing. The reason is that the handlebars are all on the same level. Have you ever watched the Tour de France from the front?

Belle et Bonne: Yes, I like to watch the handlebars approaching. It's good to know that everyone is equal.

Simone de Beauvoir: And yet some of them have much longer legs than others. Take mon petit homme Jean Paul. He's only five feet tall you know. It is difficult for him.

Belle et Bonne: Oh, but he has a giant intellect of course.

Simone de Beauvoir: That does not help much on a bicycle.

Belle et Bonne: Simone, may I ask you something?

Simone de Beauvoir: Fire away!

Belle et Bonne: Well....I'm a modern girl, but I would never let my partner call me Beaver.

Simone de Beauvoir: Why? It's just a nickname, which I got for working hard. In fact it is a double joke, because in French he calls me Castor, which is the same as Beaver in English. And then of course, Beaver sounds like Beauvoir. It is quite clever, no?

Belle et Bonne: But Simone, do you not know that Beaver has a ribald meaning these days? It is used quite frequently in low class American films.

Simone de Beauvoir: No? Oh no ! I can guess! Oh! That is too funny! I cannot wait to tell it to mon petit Jean Paul!

Biodiversity

Pliny the Elder was beside himself with frustration. If the ladybird had not had legs, a circumstance he personally doubted, then it needed to be studied further. Perhaps it really did live in a seashell. Perhaps instead of legs it had tiny flippers. It would now be impossible to ascertain.

I felt a little guilty, not just for Pliny's sake but for the sake of biodiversity in general. If only I had not washed the little blighter down the sink! At least, I thought, I can try and make it up to Pliny.

Would you like to write the next few blogs? I asked him. You may write on any subject that you choose, I shall not interfere.

Pliny brightened up.

Thankyou, he said. I would like that.

What will you write about? I asked.

Blue Devil fish, said Pliny.

Really? I said. Now that is a coincidence.

Coincidence? Why? asked Pliny.

Because I .....no never mind. What else will you write about?

Chocolate biscuits, said Pliny. Don't tell me you....?

Well, I ..... ahem, anything else?

Volcanoes, said Pliny.

I would never have thought of that, I said truthfully.

The Bug Collection

Have you, by any chance, seen my bug collection? asked Pliny the Elder.

No, have you lost it? I asked. What does it look like?

It looks, said Pliny, frowning, like a small bronze bead.

A small bronze bead! That doesn't sound like a bug collection.

It was the first specimen in my new bug collection, said Pliny. And it was, in fact, a most unusual ladybird.

I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable.

Where was it when you saw it last? I asked.

In the wooden bowl on the window sill in the kitchen with your collection of shells.

Oh dear, I said. I believe I have washed your bug collection down the sink. Why did you put it in there?

I didn't put it there. That was simply where it was.

You mean it fell out of one of the shells?

Well, what did you think when you saw it?

I thought it had fallen out of one of the shells.

And you decided to throw it away?

Yes, after I'd seen it was a ladybird, and not a shell.

That is the difference between you and me, said Pliny. That is the very reason why I wanted to keep it.

That is not the difference between you and me, Pliny, I said. As soon as I'd flushed it down the sink I regretted it. I wished I had kept it for the very reason you wanted to keep it.

Except that I did keep it, said Pliny. At least, for a time.

It didn't have any legs, I said. That was the real reason I washed it away.

Tch! said Pliny.