I am the Prince of Orange. No historical link here to Orange in France, and therefore by proxy, no link to the Netherlands. Instead, I realised today that my fashion sense knows no bounds, particularly when it comes to travelling about and not worrying what other people think. It was not missed by even me that as I set out for the supermarket to get our daily bread that I had my orange running shoes on, accompanied by orange socks and also an orange t-shirt, all coincidentally mind.
I increased this particular look with an asymmetrical sock lineage. As you would expect Clare did not accompany me on this particular trip.
Princess of Orange
Later on in the day, I was off playing the guitar on the beach, Jasper and Maya were playing around somewhere and Clare was on the phone. As she sat there, bearing in mind that where we are is just us and our German neighbours, a lady walked up to Clare and handed her a bag of oranges. Clare was still on the phone and tried to explain that she had no money and that she spoke no Italian, but the lady was adamant. So, we now have this...
Talk about a glut. They are gorgeous too! Apparently our neighbours said that the lady had tried to give them to them, but they had just bought a load, hence we got the bag. She had explained that there were too many on the farm and they just needed to get rid of some. We were the lucky beneficiaries of this. There must be 50 or so. An orange diet for the Prince and Princess of Orange then!
Ed
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