Melanged Magic

View From My Window--Words

2012-03-09T06:06:00.000-06:00

A couple of days ago, Laury forwarded me this quote that she received from a friend.

Like Stones, words are laborious and unforgiving, and the fitting of them together, like the fitting of stones, demands great patience and strength of purpose and particular skill." Edmund Morrison

Since we are both writers, Laury thought I might find the quote interesting. I found it thought-provoking in a way that has had it niggling my brain ever since I read it. I think this viewpoint does words a disservice.

For me, words are not heavy stones, but are vibrant points of light and color. Instead of the stone fitting metaphor, I submit that words are more like the tiny dots of color in a pointillist painting. Each can stand alone as a speck of turquoise or ruby red or deep ochre, but placed side-by-side with others, these dots shimmer as an image or an emotion. They can make an idea crystal clear or can conjure up a deep mystery. To describe words as 'laborious and unforgiving,' drains them of any joy and makes the process of putting them on paper feel heavy and hard

.Finding the right words to make a thought or a feeling come alive is an act of pure joy, purely creative. I don't feel as if it takes either great skill or great patience. What it takes is the willingness to let yourself explore the choices and delight in the process. It takes putting each little point of light, each speck of color on the page with courage and then trying them out. Maybe even reading the words aloud to see how they roll off your tongue. Does that word feel right? Does it shimmer with its neighbors to paint the right picture in the reader's mind?

The writing of words should not be a labor-intensive ordeal Words are how we communicate...in writing as well as verbally. While I take nothing away from those who earn their living writing (they do work hard), making words feel like a burden and endowing those who write them with special skills and strengths only makes people afraid that words can only be written by special people, not every day folks like you and me.

Words are not things to be feared and dreaded. The words you write might not lead you to a book deal or secure your place in a book of great American quotations, but they will enrich your life just a little.And perhaps give you the courage write even more words.

A Little of Limogne

2012-03-06T03:19:00.000-06:00

Arriving early for the Friday truffle market in Limogne, I had some extra time to wander through the church and around its neighborhood taking a few photos

Last Truffle Market in Limogne

2012-03-03T05:07:00.001-06:00

Being not quite 'truffled out,' I decided to make the short drive to Limogne yesterday morning for its last truffle market of the season. I thought that at this smaller market I might learn more about the actual buying and selling of these intriguing lumps of black flavor. This market was, indeed, much smaller. Perhaps 10 sellers and maybe 20-30 buyers gathered in the open area in front of the church. Buyers appeared to be more local here. The sign above reminded everyone that truffle transactions were not to begin before the whistle blew at 10:30am.

I was able to pick up and sniff a truffle. I wish I had a more educated nose to explain the aroma. To me, it was a melange of rich soil, horse manure and musky mushrooms with a lingering, slightly sweet smell. Not unpleasant, but not exactly a mouth-watering fragrance either...at least not for me!

The best part of this truffle experience was getting to meet a fellow blogger, Vanessa, from Life on La Lune. We chatted about our common and not-so-in-common experiences living in France while we watched the market unfold. We both noticed that one of the sellers had a notable lack of customers. As luck would have it, a very nice French woman began a conversation with Vanessa in French. She explained that she was a truffle grower herself and usually sells here and at Lalbenque. She wasn't selling this morning as she was using her last truffles to 're-seed' her truffiere. She reported that this past growing season was excellent for her producing 9 kilos of truffles as opposed to her normal 1 kilo yield. She even explained why the man we noticed had no lookers or buyers. His price was too high! He was asking 450 euros/kilo for his crop. She said if he had lowered his price to 400 euros, he would have been competitive. As it was, he gathered up all his unsold truffles in their dish towel and took them home.

This man must have priced his little basket of truffles just right...he sold all of them!

If you are interested in more about truffles, try this link to an NPR story from 2008 about the Lalbenque market or this more recent one about truffles in America.

Can We Go Home Now?

2012-03-02T11:08:00.000-06:00

With all the milling around and 'truffling' going on at Tuesday's Lalbenque market, I'm surprised these guys managed to avoid getting stepped on. Truffle market day can't be a lot of fun for them!

More from the Market...

2012-02-29T01:33:00.001-06:00

As intrigued as I was with the truffles yesterday, I also did a whole lot of people-watching as the market progressed. As the clock ticked down the minutes to the starting bell, people continued to gather along the truffle tables...

maybe a couple of hundred at the height of the buying and selling.

The sellers talked prices and weather...

while this old French buyer strained to get a better look at the truffles.

This woman in her red beret, purple and black skirt and knee-high boots with her distinguished-looking husband and tiny dog kept Laury and I fascinated as we drank our beer and nibbled on our fries. But when she pulled on long, fingerless red gloves...I knew I needed a photo!

This tall gendarme strode purposefully through the crowd. I'm sure with the amount of euros changing hands as the truffles were purchased, he was keeping an eye open for any illegal activity.

Some market-goers were just nice to look at. If this is your husband or significant other, know that he was appreciated!

There were some other nice-looking attendees at the market. More of them another day.

Marche aux Truffes

2012-02-28T10:54:00.001-06:00

What looks like lumpy potatoes or clods of dirt are actually a fungus more precious than gold to gastronomes. Every Tuesday afternoon from the first of December to mid-March, people from all over France converge on Lalbenque, the largest truffle producing area in the country, to buy truffles. Laury and I were among them today. I've been wanting to see the market all winter, but between my bad knee and the icy cold weather, today was the first time it really seemed feasible to make the 40 kilometer drive. It was a perfect afternoon for truffle and people-watching in Lalbenque...warm enough to sit outside and have a biere pression and share a plate of frites while we waited for the bell that signalled the beginning of the market. We watched the buyers and sellers eye each other across the ropes stretched to keep them apart until it was time to negotiate.

We intentionally arrived early so we could take photos and relax a bit before the action began. According to what I'd read about the market, the buying/selling only lasts a short time. If you're late for the opening bell, you miss out. It was fascinating to watch the crowd gather. You could tell just from observing the buyers that many were not local. The sellers lined up basket-to-basket the length of long, narrow tables. The buyers piled up several people deep against the restraining rope. At the bell, rung precisely at 2:30pm, the rope dropped and the sniffing, pinching, scraping, and negotiating began. As I understand the process from reading the internet, buyers must make an offer of a price per kilo (even if they only want a much smaller amount). The seller then says yes or no. I guess half the fun is negotiating an agreeable price. At prices that can go as high as !000 euros per kilo, buying truffles is not for the faint-of-heart! I watched a man and his family buy a little bag of 3 small truffles and hand 70 euros to the seller.

By 3pm most of the truffles had disappeared, but most of my questions had not. I'm intrigued with the entire process. I want to know more about truffles and how people use. them It appeared that those truffles that weren't bought went home with the sellers...how long do they last? do they bring the same ones back next week if they don't get a price they are happy with? how do you buy just one? could I afford one? I definitely want to make another trip and try my hand at truffle-buying, but it will have to wait until next year, I'm afraid. This year's season is almost over.

There will be more photos from the truffle market, so be sure to check back!

Cassoulet

2012-02-26T02:36:00.000-06:00

Cassoulet is a quintessential French dish. There are probably as many 'authentic' cassoulet recipes as there are French cooks! Everyone thinks theirs is the best, most authentic, etc. I found my recipe over at Life on La Lune. (You can click on the title to find the blog post with the recipe) While Vanessa admits her recipe is 'faux' cassoulet and one that wouldn't find favor with French cooks, I think it's perfect; it's easy, yummy good and made with ingredients I have on hand most of the time. However, before you try to replicate it, be aware that in my opinion, the secret to its yumminess is this: haricots lingots cooked in goose fat. The goose fat adds a depth of flavor, richness and texture that plain ol' butter beans won't, I'm afraid. Where has goose fat been all my life? It's an incredible flavor enhancer. I'm so glad the French aren't so obsessed with their cholesterol that they've eliminated such lush ingredients as this...and duck fat...and butter...and cream from their diet!

I invited Laury down to be my culinary guinea pig and critique the cassoulet. We enjoyed a lovely light dinner of cassoulet, salad with my raspberry dijon vinigarette, fresh baguette and a nice Bergerac. She rated the dish with four and a half stars. Not five stars, so as to give me room to experiment and make it even better. And she recommended that I serve it to our French friends in the village. Are you kidding me?...I'm not that brave!

Blood of Christ

2012-02-24T04:05:00.000-06:00

L'eglise St. Etienne in Cajarc, noon on Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday

2012-02-23T03:37:00.000-06:00

I went into Cajarc yesterday for groceries and a stop at the Wednesday morning market. I also paid a quick visit to the church to light a candle in lieu of attending a service and receiving the imposition of ashes for Ash Wednesday. It's become my practice to light a candle here...in a side chapel of the church dedicated to the memory of a Carmelite nun, Sister Mary Henrietta of Providence. Born Mary Annette Pieras (1760) here in Cajarc, this nun was one of 16 Sisters, lay and extern Sisters guillotined in 1794 during the final days of the Reign of Terror (French Revolution). Their execution took place at Place de la Nation; their bodies were buried in a common grave with other persons executed during the Reign. Referred to as the Martyrs of Compiegne, the bravery of these Sisters is credited with helping to bring the blood-bath of the Revolution to an end. It certainly seems as if a candle is an appropriate way to honor this brave woman and her Sisters.

Paperwhite Update

2012-02-22T09:57:00.000-06:00

The paperwhites are loving the warm, bright sunroom. One is blooming...it smells heavenly!

Social Media

2012-02-21T03:43:00.000-06:00

I have very ambivalent feelings about social media and networking that way. I've had a Facebook page for a couple of years that I've taken down and put up again...twice. When I talked with my daughter-in-law via Skype the other evening, she mentioned that my 17 year old grandson has a Facebook page. So, I've taken the plunge and again activated my page. I figure that may be the only way grandma will be able to be in contact with her social media-conscious grandson! An added plus is that I can link each blog post to my 'wall.' I guess avoiding social media is impossible unless I want to be considered an old fossil! So, friend me!

A Light Supper With Friends

2012-02-18T03:51:00.000-06:00

I took this photo of Jean and Laury in 2009 when we visited the Limogne Sunday market. It was a beautifully clear, but cool morning, so a coffee at a local cafe was welcome. Last night these two friends joined me for a light supper at the Little Train House. Jean and I had tried a salade paysan (country salad) at Le President a few weeks ago, and I wanted to see if I could replicate it. I started with a base of fresh butter lettuce (from Jackie's booth at the Cajarc market) and then topped it with a spoonful of chicken livers sauteed in lardons, shallots and a splash of red wine, a spoonful of mushrooms sauteed in butter, a poached egg, and a warmed and runny Rocamadour cabecou (round of goat cheese) Accompanied by fresh bread, a few pieces of leftover pizza contributed by Laury, and a glass of red wine, it was the perfect meal. And of course, we finished with some goodies from our favorite patisserie...an opera, a citron tartlette, and a confection of coconut and apple all divided into small pieces so we each had a taste of all three. Friends, Friday night and fun food...could be anywhere in the world, but made all the better because it was here....in France!

If you're new to Melanged Magic, you might notice that I occasionally link to another blog: Musings From Red Bell Farm. That was my original blog. If you're interested in how I got from Iowa to France...that's the place to find out!

Waiting for Spring

2012-02-17T05:14:00.000-06:00

Between my funky knee and the funky, freezing weather, I haven't done much exploring the past few weeks. So, even my trip into Figeac for a doctor's appointment seemed a treat! As I walked down the main street towards old Figeac and le Halle, the exterior display at the flower shop caught my attention...shelves of spring bulbs to force! I made it a point to walk back to my car the same way, so I could stop and buy a bit of spring. I'm tired of waiting for it to arrive! These paperwhites are soaking in the light on my dining room table. I'll keep you posted on their progress.

Maquis in Ambeyrac

2012-02-15T04:15:00.001-06:00

When I pulled back the big bush partially covering the plaque on the side of the Ambeyrac church that honored Belgian refugees, I found this plaque above it. It commemorates a famous Corsican Resistance organizer who obviously organized in Ambeyrac as well. Most of my online research about this man centers around his work done on Corsica. He was, in fact, killed there by Blackshirts in late 1943 during the Liberation of Corsica. But before that he organized a Resistance cell in the Aveyron. Instead of trying to tell you the story myself, I'll simply use his words as recorded in a history of the Resistance in the Aveyron written by history professors, Christian Font and Henri Moizet.

Dominique Vincetti - The establishment of the Ols maquis in Aveyron.

“First we had to figure out where to set up the maquis. During the first days our investigations led us to the limestone plateaus of Ambeyrac; there we were, three Frenchmen. We went to see the plateaus, which, according to our intelligence, seemed to meet our needs; if our information was accurate, Ambeyrac would soon be the main base of our maquis. We reached the plateaus at around four o’clock in the afternoon, coming from the Naussac railway station on little dirt roads winding through fields in order to avoid the villages of Naussac, Gelles, Foissac; a stranger in those little places would stand out right away. Every afternoon we explored the plateau in every direction and at night we decided to go down to Ambeyrac where our friend Louis knew the schoolteacher, Marty, who was sent there by Vichy. We didn’t reach the village until around midnight; it was as though we were in a maze where every house looked exactly the same and every grove looked alike. The people in the village were still up; even though it was midnight, folks living in the countryside don’t want to have any official time. It was around midnight when we reached Marty’s house and asked him if we could spend the night. We exchanged our impressions around a little fire. We talked about the organisational possibilities; everything seemed to be what we needed. In the morning our two comrades left before daybreak: they were regional leaders. The same day Marty introduced me to Monsieur Vernet; he’s a typical Aveyron farmer, gruff and very plain-speaking. I realised that you had to talk straight with this man, that there was no need to beat around the bush or make up stories. I straightforwardly explained to him why I was in the area, the goal of my visit, my mission. He listened very carefully. Our friend had several young children and was supporting his old grandfather, but patriotism, chained France, he said, was more important than family considerations and his duty was to help break those chains. He owned a little house on the plateau. It was neither a flower-bedecked chalet nor a lavish country villa where people who had gotten rich on collaborating went on holiday, but a simple little barn, a shelter for livestock in bad weather. He unhesitatingly gave us the keys but that wasn’t all. In a few days, he told us, some young men would come to stay at our ‘villa’ and we’d have to find something for them to eat, at least for the first few days. ‘When those young men arrive of course you have to feed them,’ he said. ‘No chicken but potatoes, bread, beans, lard and even a little walnut oil.’ One more thing, we needed a little straw to sleep on. ‘We’ll find some,’ our friend answered. ‘You won’t manage all alone, we’ll have to find somebody to help you,’ he said. Don’t you think there are some people in the village who’d gladly help the maquis? But Vernet was wary, a little reluctant, he didn’t want rumours to start circulating about the birth of the Maquis; people might talk and spill the beans.”

I found this information at a very informative website: STRUTHOF, the former Nazi concentration camp in the Alsace. Photos courtesy of Google images.

Water Woes

2012-02-10T03:34:00.001-06:00

What do you see flowing from my fully opened kitchen faucet? The correct answer is NOTHING! My water worries began mid-afternoon yesterday when I suddenly lost water pressure. I still had flow, just not very much. With the continued very cold temperatures, I was afraid that perhaps ice was forming in the pipes and impeding full flow. So, I called Christiane first to see if perhaps the water company was doing work on pipes in the village that might impact water pressure. The answer was no, so she sent Jean-Paul to have a look at my pipes. He fiddled around a bit, turning taps on and off, scratched his head, and called Patrick, my landlord. He zoomed down and agreed that this was not normal water flow. He and Jean-Paul worked the rest of the afternoon trying to thaw potentially ice-impacted pipes. Actually, I think it was a good excuse for them to play with Patrick's walkie-talkies as there was brisk French conversation from my kitchen down into the basement! But, they never managed to improve the flow. Patrick put a portable heater in the basement in an effort to warm up the pipes, but told me I didn't need to leave the taps open a tiny bit through the night (which is what I'd do in Iowa when temperatures would plummet).
I woke up about 1am and checked the faucets; the flow had decreased dramatically, so I left one open all night. This morning around 7am, the flow stopped completely! I'd prepared for this by running a bucket of water for the toilet and several pitchers and pots for kitchen use, so I wasn't too worried. Inconvenient, but do-able if necessary. Around 9am the phone rang. It was Greg with news from Christiane (who becomes our 'communications centrale' when there is a village crisis). Indeed, there was a leak in one of the large water pipes that serves our village and SAUR was working on it. Thus, no water!. Within an hour or so, the problem was fixed, and the crisis was over. I now have full water pressure....and several pots, pitchers and buckets of water sitting around the house!

Still Cold in the Lot

2012-02-09T04:44:00.001-06:00

It's still cold in France. Temperatures have not risen above freezing all week. Jean's water is off because she has a frozen valve; Laury returned from her work assignment to frozen pipes in the Chatette. Every afternoon about 4pm the 'bucket brigade' arrives at my house, and I supply coffee and washing up water to both Laury and Jean. Not having water is not much fun! I looked at the weather forecast just now and don't see much improvement for the next few days. Temps may rise barely above freezing, during the day but will then plunge into negative numbers at night. Not the best weather for thawing pipes!

How Cold Is It?

2012-02-06T04:04:00.000-06:00

The cold weather has been all the news for the last few days in France. Four people have perished in the cold, two of those homeless men. In a country of really old buildings and with so much built with stone, the cold is very intense even for those who have homes. Then yesterday, it snowed. Here in Cadrieu it measures under an inch, but that's enough to slow everything and everyone down. And in Cahors where the snowfall measured 6 inches, it was enough to strand Laury when she arrived by train yesterday from Paris. I wasn't driving in it, and the buses weren't running...and still aren't today. Temperatures are predicted to fall even more tonight with lows predicted to be -10 Centigrade ( 14 degrees Fahrenheit). I know...that certainly isn't Midwest-cold, but it's colder than people are prepared for here.

And I know you're wondering why less than an inch of snow kept me from driving into Cahors to pick up Laury. Let me just say...you need to experience the river road from here to there before you scoff and call me a chicken. It's beyond narrow and winding, difficult even in perfect weather conditions. Laury stayed the night with a friend, and I stayed safe and warm here at home!

The Rest of the Story

2012-02-05T02:51:00.002-06:00

I know from corresponding with Tom Natan over at First Vine that many of you who read my blog clicked over to his to read the story of his father's life as a Jewish refugee in France during World War II. Tom has just posted 'the rest of the story,' and it's pretty amazing. Again, I encourage you to stop by and read it.

Click here to go there.

Looking Up...Looking Down

2012-02-01T08:49:00.000-06:00

When I wander through medieval villages, I'm often looking up. I love to snap photos of half-timbered buildings, bell towers, church steeples, pretty shutters and stone carvings. I'm particularly fond of the little niches you see on the corners and sides of old stone houses that shelter statues of saints. Like this one of Joseph and baby Jesus...at least that's who I think it is. The Virgin is also a popular subject....

But as I wandered through Cajarc last week taking photos of the dog pooping places, I was reminded that I should also be looking down. I was amazed to see this in a tiny square that I've walked through many times and never noticed...

(you thought it was going to be 'crotte de chien,' didn't you?)

The Way

2012-01-30T03:44:00.002-06:00

I've been fascinated with pilgrimage since my first visit to Conques in 2009. You may remember reading some of my blog posts about Conques and my adventures as a 'pilgrim imposter' there. The Way...called the "Chemin St. Jacques de Compostela" here in the Lot....runs from Figeac to Cajarc on the causse above Cadrieu. Occasionally pilgrims opt for a more scenic route along the river and pass right under my windows.This Way leads from Le Puy-en-Velay to Saint-Juan-Pied-de-Port where it crosses the border into Spain. There it is called the Camino, its final destination Santiago and the Cathedral of St. John. I would love to do the entire walk; in reality, I may have to settle for parts of it. Lots of people do just that...walk different pieces of the pilgrimage as they have time.

So when my friend, Karen, emailed me about a movie about pilgrimage on the Camino in Spain, I was immediately intrigued. Called "The Way," it is the work of Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez. It had limited release in the States (not a Hollywood block-buster full of sex, violence and car chases!), but it is available on DVD, so I ordered it from Amazon. I watched it this weekend and am inspired, once again, to walk The Way. It's the story of an American man (Martin Sheen) who travels to St. Juan to claim his son's body. Daniel (Emilio Estevez) was just beginning his pilgrimage walk when he was caught by a storm in the Pyrenees and killed. His father, Tom, decides to walk pilgrimage in his son's place, and the story proceeds from there. As he walks through Spain, Tom is befriended by three fellow pilgrims, each, like Tom, with his own reasons for walking. I've provided the trailer for you. It's a wonderful movie, well-acted with gorgeous cinematography. If you get a chance, watch "The Way."

Thank you, YouTube!

Protecting the Village Heritage

2012-01-28T03:44:00.000-06:00

A handful of us met last evening at the Mairie. First order of business was to form an association for the protection du patrimoine. I admire the French because they work hard to retain and preserve their historic and cultural heritage; this is the purpose of our association. In France, an association can be formed with as few as three people. Once you are officially recognized, it's possible for the association to apply for government money to restore and preserve historic buildings and cultural activities. While the church isn't falling down, it is an old structure that needs some tender loving care. Our association has made it our first priority, but other village sites such as the lavoir are also part of our mission. Christiane drew up a letter that will be hand-delivered to everyone in the village's mailbox stating our intent and asking for their support...either with their presence or their ideas. We also scheduled our next meeting for March 2.

The church badly needs the peeling plaster scraped from its interior walls. I figure even if I can't speak French (Christiane had to translate for me most of what was discussed at the meeting), I can provide manual labor. So, scraping plaster will be our first big project. I'll update you as we progress with additional photos and perhaps some historical information about the church itself. I'm glad to be able to give back something to this village that has welcomed me so warmly!

Crotte de chien**

2012-01-27T09:06:00.000-06:00

After enjoying a lovely lunch at le President this week, my friends and I wandered through medieval Cajarc. We were surprised to see this new development tucked away in a corner of an alley way. Someone has installed an area for dog pooping! If you've ever visited Paris or read much about that beautiful city, you know that dog poop is a big issue there. More people are beginning to be responsible about cleaning up after their dogs, but you still have to watch where you walk. In the medieval sections of old villages, it's a problem as well. Hardly any of the old stone houses here have yards; there are no doggie parks in town, so where do you take your dog? Someone has provided an answer.

As we wandered a little further, we saw this sign posted in someone's tiny flower bed. Essentially it says 'dog pooping is forbidden here under penalty of a fine.'

I think this guy sitting up in the window sill above the flowers may have had something to do with the 'interdiction.'

**crotte de chien=dog droppings

Balaguier-d'Olt

2012-01-24T03:38:00.000-06:00

Traveling upriver on the D86 from Ambeyrac, the next village you come to is Balaguier-d'Olt. In the old Occitan language Olt is the name for the Lot River. Thus, this village is Balaguier on the Lot. You frequently see town name signs here written in both French and Occitan. At one time all of southern France spoke the old Occitan language as well as parts of Italy and Spain. The bell tower from this beautiful Romanesque church dates from the 12th century. Unfortunately, the church was locked; I wanted to see the 12th century altar carved in sandstone that is inside. Maybe another day! The church grounds also contain the war dead memorial you can see in front and the village cemetery which is to the right of the church.

Standing on the steps of the church, this is the view back down into the village...

You can barely discern a cross and some ruins on top of the hill. I tried my zoom and got this...

Ah...another reason for a return trip to this pretty village!

Camboulan

2012-01-22T03:51:00.000-06:00

Camboulan is a tiny commune 2 kilometers from Ambeyrac. It's governed by the Ambeyrac Mairie. Its last official census was in 1800; there were 290 souls living here then. I can tell you that there are far fewer here today! As in every French village I've visited, this one has its own church and its commemorative plaque honoring its enfants morts pour la France. When I drove through the village, I saw a total of two people and one dog wandering the main rue. There are no business establishments nor is there a school. If Belgian refugees settled in this village, they must have been taken in by relatives or perhaps were hired to work on some of the outlying farms. Otherwise there would have been no way for them to support themselves. With the severe shortage of gas during the war, there also would not have been transportation for them to get to other, bigger villages for work. Again with no concrete information, this is pure speculation. I continue to search...

Small as it is, this village has a chateau....Chateau de Camboulan. I've provided you a link to their website. Click on the drawing at the bottom of the page that appears, and you will go to the website with additional photos. It's in French, sorry!

I think I may plan an overnight here at some point. Maybe the proprietor knows some of the local history?

A Little Bit of Ambeyrac

2012-01-21T06:07:00.002-06:00

While I search for more information about the Belgian refugees honored in this village and in Camboulan, I thought you might like to see what each village looks like. I took this photo in December. The big tree in front of the Ambeyrac Mairie was all decked out for Christmas. The Mairie was built in 1895, but parts of the church (the nave and the choir) right next door date from the 12th century. The lateral chapels were added in the 15th century with various renovations taking place over the years following. Mention of a church in Ambeyrac, however, was made by Pepin I of Aquitaine in correspondence dated August 23, 838. We're talking really old! In 1878, the church cemetery which was situated between the church and where the Mairie is now was moved to accommodate a road. I think moving a cemetery would be extremely difficult and not much fun!

This is the most recent addition to the church. Dated 1998 it commemorates those villagers who died during WWII...their names are across the bottom. If you look closely, you'll see that the stained glass window depicts fallen soldiers on a battlefield...a rather unusual theme for a church window.

All the villages that sit below the causse have to have some way to deal with water running off the top and down to the river. Here in Ambeyrac there are little rock aqueducts that channel the water through the village safely to the river. You frequently see water collecting structures like this one in French villages.Village women would come here to collect water for drinking, cooking and washing. If the village had a lavoir, clothes would be washed there. Each time I've been to Ambeyrac water has been running. The sound of it splashing, trickling, and rushing is better than music!

I leave you with some cheery blue shutters as I leave Ambeyrac. Next stop: Camboulan.

Refugees in Ambeyrac

2012-01-20T09:45:00.000-06:00

Translation: tribute/recognition of the Belgian refugees of the population of Ambeyrac and Camboulan.

July 21, 1940

This plaque is on an exterior wall of the Ambeyrac church. Partially obscured by a big old bush, it was hard to photograph it as I had to pull the bush out of the way with one hand and take the photo with the other. Lucie isn't tall enough to help. I can't help but link this clue with the Croix des Belges a few kilometers away on the top of the causse. As I attempted to do online research about Belgian refugees during WWII, I came across a very interesting blog entry here at First Vine. It's a touching story of a man's father who re-connected last year with a small village in SW France where his family took refuge during WWII. Austrian Jews, they fled Vienna when Hitler took over Austria and went to Belgium thinking they would be safe there. Despite a non-agression treaty with Belgium, Hitler invaded that country in May 1940. Thousands of Belgian citizens and Jewish refugees from other countries fled Belgium for France where they thought they would once again be safe. A Paris re-settlement office sent this family to Herault, a small village in the Languedoc which is only a couple hours drive from here. The blog's author, Tom Natan, reported that researching his father's story was very difficult as there is almost no information available regarding this area during WWII.

I took a chance that Mr. Natan would be nice enough to respond and sent him an email asking for any resources he might point me to that might provide additional information about Belgian refugees in my area. I reeived an immediate response which I'll share with you in my next post. In the meantime, I'd urge you to click on the First Vine link above and read the Natan family story.

The Ambeyrac church is on the right. The plaque is behind that big green bush!

Another Clue

2012-01-18T05:28:00.001-06:00

The mystery of the Belgian Cross continues to unfold here at the village church in Ambeyrac. What I have to show you is actually on the church wall below this very cool sundial. You can regularly see sundials in little villages throughout the region if you look quickly as you drive by. This one has obviously been re-done since it was first created in 1850. If you look closely, you'll be able to tell exactly what time I snapped this image. It's interesting that it has been built up on one side to catch the sun's rays at exactly the proper angle. I guess that was easier than reconstructing the wall of the church! I"ll share the Ambeyrac clue to the mystery with you in my next blog post. Until then, here's another photo to fire up your imagination....

Croix des Belges

2012-01-16T04:50:00.000-06:00

There are so many tantilizing tidbits of history around here. This spot is up on the causse directly across from my house. It's the Croix des Belges, a cross erected to honor Belgians who fled here as Belgium was invaded by the Nazis. At least that's what I think it commemorates! I've been told stories about Belgian prisoners of war being executed here. There's a mysterious plaque on the side of a village church honoring Belgians who settled there during WWII. After searching the internet and asking local folks, I'm still not sure about the story. And being insatiably curious, I want to know that story! Who were these Belgians? Why were they here? Nazi troops did occupy Figeac during the war...did they have prisoners that they executed here? One of my French friends asked me 'Why do you want to know these stories?' Like I said.... I'm just curious, and I like to know about how people connect to one another. Stories connect us. I've got a lead on answers to my questions. If I get more information, I'll post it here!

"Leche-vitrines"

2012-01-12T04:45:00.002-06:00

"Leche-vitrines" is a great French phrase that translates literally into 'licking windows.' But what it really means is 'window shopping.' I've seen a few store windows that truly made me want to lick them! Chocolate shops in Paris, for example or fancy patisseries like Lauduree. This window in Cajarc never fails to catch my eye. I always park near it even when I'm going to market on the other side of Cajarc. I love to walk by and 'lick' the window. I have no idea what's behind the colorful window whose display changes routinely. It looks like a shop window, yet there is no shop. It's definitely not someone's home. If it's a studio or atelier, there's no indication of that either. All I know is the window is always fanciful and fun, full of bright colors and interesting objects. I took these photos in December when the window's theme was puppets. It absolutely delighted the child in me! I think this guy looks like Napoleon, don't you?

Saut de la Mounine**

2012-01-10T09:32:00.000-06:00

Do you remember this photo from my December post about Saujac? It's part of some fading paintings on a long-closed epicerie in the village. I promised to tell you about this monk and his monkey. Here's the story...

Once upon a time, in the 15th century actually, a monk named Cidoine set off on pilgrimage from Conques with his pet monkey (called mounine in the local patois) and a goat. As he walked along the edge of the causse (just above where Saujac is now), he tripped and fell over the edge. His belt caught on a tree saving him and his monkey. As he hung there, he spotted a cave and decided that this was a sign that they should stay right here....so they did. This hermit monk in his cave became quite the local celebrity with frequent visitors who brought him food and sought his advice One visitor was Ghislaine, the 16 year old daughter of Ogier, Lord of Montbrun, a fortified village directly across the Lot river facing Cidoine's cave. Another frequent visitor was Renaud, the son of Ogier's fierce rival. You can guess what happened...yes, Ghislaine and Renaud fell in love. When Lord Ogier found out, he screamed a curse..."I swear by the devil,I'd rather you jumped off that monk's rock than marry the son of my rival!"

Montbrun as seen from the monk's rock. Lord Ogier's castle is the large square building at the top of the village

Ghislaine was distraught. She went to Cidoine and asked him what she should do. He told her on the day that her father went out hunting to come to his rock with her best dress. When she arrived, he dressed his old, blind monkey in it and flung him off the rock. Lord Ogier saw his daughter's brilliant red dress as the monkey plunged to the valley below. Thinking his daughter had jumped to her death and full of remorse, he recanted his oath and ran along the Lot to find Cidoine who then revealed the deception. Jubliant, Lord Ogier embraced his daughter and blessed her union with Renaud. They were married in the Montbrun castle, their fathers reconciled, and everyone lived happily ever after.

Except the monkey who was unavailable for comment.

**Jump of Mouine.

France's Other Saint

2012-01-08T08:03:00.002-06:00

Can you put the pieces together to form a picture of France's other patron saint?

The Little Flower

2012-01-07T04:15:00.001-06:00

There's been a saint living with us since early December...Saint Therese, the Little Flower of Jesus. She actually belongs to Laury and was her Christmas gift from her folks. Because Laury's in Holland, Saint Therese was delivered here. Laury told me open her box and set her out...who wants to keep a saint hidden away? So she's been sitting on my kitchen trolley watching over my santons for the holidays. She'll stay there until Laury returns in February. Laury calls her 'Merci Lady' because she always lights a candle to her when she visits one of the many churches around us. St. Therese is in all of them; she co-shares the Patron Saint of France honors with St. Joan of Arc. You can even light a votive candle with her image on it. Both Laury and I have been known to pay our 2 euros for the candle and then slip it in our pocket to bring home. That way we can say 'thank you' without going to church. St. Therese is very beautiful, and you always see her holding flowers. Her faith was simple: She felt she was a little person doing little acts of love, living a simple, Christ-filled life. It's a pleasure having her as a house guest!

French Healthcare Continued

2012-01-05T02:28:00.001-06:00

I waited and waited. Four people came in after I arrived, and I began to worry. While each person before me seemed to go in their proper place in line, I know the French are notorious for not queueing well. Your place in line is merely a suggestion; often there is no line, just a gaggle of people with at least one or two people elbowing their way up to be first in the door. This is the fifth difference from American healthcare. No one would dare push ahead of someone else to see the doctor sooner! As the wait grew longer, the few of us left to be seen grew restless. I eyed the competition and decided one of the two old ladies would be who might try to jump my place in line. When my turn came, I arose and walked towards the doctor's open door. Who should budge in front of me, but the old man sitting in corner! Giving me a glaring 'don't you dare challenge me' look over his shoulder, he pushed in front of me. I merely shrugged and told the doctor "It's okay!" As soon as the door closed, the old ladies began chattering about his rudeness and saying it was my turn, not his. I repeated "It's okay!" as I chuckled to myself.

Finally, it was my turn. Difference number six: I began my visit sitting with the doctor at his desk while he hand wrote my demographic information and health history on a sheet of paper. No electronic record keeping here. No insistence that he copy my insurance card. I merely told him I didn't have French healthcare insurance, and we moved on.

I was directed to the exam room and told to take off my clothes, but leave my underwear on. As I tried to pull the folded paper sheet over myself, the doctor took it from me and said 'No, no Madame, That's for your feet.' Gulp...difference seven: the French are so very unself-conscious about their bodies. No covering up allowed! After a thorough exam of my knee, heart and lungs, the doctor prounounced the problem a very inflammed joint which 'we will treat first with medicine.' He said I might need an injection into the joint in the future, but for now, we'll start simply. Yay! No torn ligament, no torn meniscus, I don't need a knee replacement. I will walk again!

Difference eight: as he wrote out my instructions and medication names for the pharmacy, he presented me his bill....23 euros. He's a one-man show...receptionist, physician and billing department. I went straight to the pharmacy and bought my drugs. Even with a new, high-powered prescription anit-inflammatory drug, I only paid 31 euros. So for a total of 54 euros, I'm on my way to recovery.

Still not able to climb mountains or even take the dogs for a long walk, but I can feel and see the improvement. I've survived my first adventure in the French healthcare system. Best of all, I really liked the doctor and asked him to be my physician, so I'm all set for any further problems.

The Adventure of French Healthcare

2012-01-04T02:51:00.000-06:00

I started having problems with my left knee last summer at camp...a little stiffness, some pain, difficulty kneeling. Nothing to really get excited about. But the past 4 weeks, 'nothing' became a big 'something.' When I had to turn down 3 different invitations to celebrate New Year's Eve because the pain and stiffness in that knee made even hobbling around hard, I decided I better do something more than popping ibuprofen and propping up my knee on a pillow. I asked my friend, Greg, for a physician recommendation, and the adventure began. Oh-la-la...how different is healthcare here! First difference: I called the number listed for my new physician. It rang and rang; no answer. Not even that annoying message like you get in the States. You know the one--'if this is an emergency, hang up and dial 911. If you've reached this recording, our office is closed. Push 1 if you need a prescription refill. Push 2 if you have a billing question. Push 3 if you want to make an appointment and maybe someone will call you back.' Perhaps I called the wrong number? Maybe the office wasn't open yet? I tried again. Second difference: the physician himself answered the phone! Where's his receptionist, I wondered? In my very best French, I introduced myself and said I would like to make an appointment with the doctor. He rattled something off in French, then again in English. 'You come this afternoon between 2:30pm and 4:30pm. I'll see you. If you make an appointment, it will be next week." Oh, okay. I called Greg and asked about this. Seems like the doctor has open clinic hours every afternoon. He advised me to get there right at 2:30pm to avoid a long wait. Armed with a book just in case, I arrived at 2:20pm; the waiting area was already full! Third difference: there was no receptionist, no 'take-a-number-and-have-a seat sign. Everyone just seemed to know where their place in line was, so I made a point to look at everyone already there, so I'd know when it was my turn. The fourth difference quickly became evident: there was no paperwork to fill out. I opened my book, began to read, and waited....

Come back tomorrow to read the rest of the story and discover the rest of the differences between American and French healthcare. Did I finally see the doctor? Did he want a copy of an insurance card? Who budged in line and did it cause a problem? Will I need a total knee replacement?

Explore!

2012-01-02T01:52:00.001-06:00

Have you broken your first New Year's resolution yet? Yeah, thought so! I gave up making resolutions years ago in favor of making birthday goals instead. I usually ended up not reaching those either! A couple of years ago I was challenged by a blog that I read regularly (Abbey of the Arts) to pick a word that resonates for me and that will define the upcoming year. I decided to try this instead of making promises that were so hard to keep. My 2010 word was Pilgrim; in 2011 it was Conviviality.This year's winner: Explore! Kind of a no-brainer since I'm already itching to get out and poke around the French countryside here in the Lot. But Explore can cover a myriad of topics, not just travel. I intend to Explore food and wine, the arts, history, spirituality, personal relationships, business ideas, and music to name just a few. One thing I like about the word Explore is that it gives me permission to just try things...I don't have to become an expert or even like what I'm doing, I just have to be open and give it a go, as my Brit friends would say. I'm adding Explore to my list of topics for this blog in order to track my progress. The best explorers, you know, always document their discoveries.You might wonder what this photo of my house (it's the little one, in case you wondered) and the Lot have to do with exploring. This is the starting point and this is where we're going....

There's a whole big world out there waiting to be explored!

Roses in December

2011-12-31T09:40:00.000-06:00

You have to love a place where roses bloom in December!

(taken 12.11 in Ambeyrac)

What I Did For My Birthday

2011-12-30T09:25:00.000-06:00

"It's just not fair having a birthday half-way between Christmas and New Year's!" Can you see me stamping my little 8-year-old foot as I say that? I certainly didn't think it was fair to have a birthday then when I was a child. It wasn't fair that I never got to take cupcakes to school to celebrate my birthday, because it always happened when we were on Christmas break. It certainly wasn't fair that most people thought it was okay to give me only one present...'for your birthday and Christmas!' Of course, as I got older, things seemed not quite so bad, but having a birthday on December 28th still means that I don't often celebrate it. Most everyone is totally 'celebrated out' after days...weeks...of Christmas parties at school, at work, at church, with the neighbors, etc. This week between holidays is the time to rest and gear up for another round of celebrating New Year's Eve, New Year's day, football bowl games, etc.

This year, however, I decided to host my own tiny celebration. I invited friends in for coffee, mimosas and sweet treats. They didn't know it was my birthday until we raised our first toast when I thanked them all for coming and helping me celebrate this day.since. This was probably my most international birthday ever as my guests hailed from England, Poland and Holland! We ate, drank and visited for a good long time, and I felt very fortunate to share this birthday with such a nice group of friends. Life suddenly feels like it's a whole lot more fair!

Another Thing That Makes Me Happy

2011-12-29T07:05:00.000-06:00

A computer that works! Sorry about being off-line for so long. My computer was infected with a really nasty virus that required a real 'computer doctor.' It was 'way beyond my ability to fix it, so off it went to the shop in Villefranche. Just got it back this morning. Once I wade through all my emails, I'll be back with more stories about life in the Lot.

Things That Make Me Happy

2011-12-15T10:05:00.000-06:00

I had Jean and Ankie for lunch yesterday as a thank you for all their help when I bought my car. Jean transported me back and forth to Cajarc several times and Ankie translated Stephane, the garage guy's rapid-fire French, so I could actually evaluate the car and negotiate the deal. Chicken with apples, Calvados and creme fraiche was on the menu along with potato-leek soup and an apple crisp for dessert. Vegetables, though, were a dilemma. It's a bit tricky to decide which ones to serve as a lot of people never venture beyond potatoes and green beans. I took a chance and did a platter of roasted winter vegetables....carrots, parsnips, sweet potatoes, and turnips. Roasting is my favorite way to fix veggies, and it's so easy. When I went into market last Saturday, I stopped by our local farmer's booth first. Jackie is famous for her veggies, and there's always a long line at her stand. What could be better than locally grown vegetables? And when I say local, I mean really local. The dogs and I walk past one of Jackie's fields every morning. Most days she's out before we even get there tending her rows. She picks and plucks, trims and packs them up for market. She covers and uncovers the more delicate greens and hand-weeds and cultivates.

As I moved up the line to pay Jackie, I saw a big basket of the most beautiful brussel sprouts by her scales. I immediately added them to the luncheon menu. I know... I used to feel the same way about brussel sprouts. Then I found a recipe that totally changed my mind. You braise the tenderest, youngest brussel sprouts you can find in butter and bits of sauted bacon. By blanching the sprouts before you cook them and finishing the dish with a squeeze of lemon or vinegar, the bitterness is completely gone. All the veggies for lunch except the sweet potatoes came from Jackie grown right here in Cadrieu. They were absolutely yummy. That makes me happy!

Dessert was apple crisp, but I decided to take a pastis out of the freezer as a second choice. We were too full to eat any of it. So, I had a piece this morning for breakfast. You might remember a couple of blog posts from last winter about making this local specialty. The women of Cadrieu make several every year to sell at the annual Telethon--a fund-raiser for neuromusccular disease. I bought one this year, and as I savored each bite this morning, I smiled. I know the hands that peeled the apples and kneaded the dough. I know the hands that pulled and stretched, folded and layered it with sugar, apples and a sprinkling of marc. I know whose arms gathered it up to place it in its baking dish. And it makes me happy to know I'm eating something made by my village friends.

Things that make me happy...friends, yummy local vegetables, and pastry made by the hands of village friends.

Saujac

2011-12-12T06:41:00.000-06:00

Saujac is the village I can see across the river from my east facing windows. I can hear its farmers and see them working in their fields along the river. I can see cars slowly moving up and down its tiny rues. At night its illuminated church steeple anchors a few house lights. And it was my first stop yesterday afternoon as I began my explorations 'juste en face.'

Saujac's flowered lavoir sits right on the road into the village.

Typical village houses in the Quercynois style.

Here's the church steeple I can see at night from my window and whose bell tolls the hour and half hour every day.

This faded monkey and his monk adorn a wall of the very dilapitated and long-closed Epicerie Buvette next to the church. You may ask what monkeys have to do with this tiny village deep in the heart of France. Ah...that's a story for another day!

Juste en face...

2011-12-11T10:22:00.001-06:00

Just across the Lot. I've been hankering to go there since last winter, but even though it's only a couple of kilometers as the crow flies (or by boat!) to get 'juste en face,' without a car it wasn't happening. Until today, that is! The clouds and fog cleared by mid-day, so I decided to begin my explorations of the area. Map, camera, a couple of CD's to keep Lucie and I entertained and the adventure began. This is how my village looks from the other side of the Lot. Once you cross the river, you're in the Aveyron, another department of the Midi-Pyrenees. To access this road, I had to drive to Cajarc, cross the river, circle the round-about in Salvignac-Cajarc and head back to the bridge I just crossed. Right before the road becomes one-way to access the bridge, there is a small road that veers off to the right. Take it, and you meander along the left bank of the Lot towards Saujac.

And this is what my little train house looks like from 'juste en face.' Can you see why I feel a bit over-shadowed by the Chateau? There's more to share from my afternoon of exploration, so be sure to check back.

Legal at Last

2011-12-09T03:59:00.000-06:00

Buying a car in France has been quite an adventure! With the help of several friends, though, it's all gone smoothly. Jean and Ankie helped with translation and transportation to and from the garage where I bought my car. Christiane and Jackie at the Mairie helped me by filling out the registration paperwork and sending it off to Cahors. Greg helped by putting me in touch with his guy, Trystan, who sells car insurance. Yesterday, I put the final piece of this 'buying-a-car-in-a-foreign country' puzzle in place. Newly issued carte grise in hand, I went to my garage in Cajarc, and they made and installed my new license plates. Seems funny to me that the dealer actually makes the license plates, but hey, it's not my system to criticize! The red box indicates my region, the Midi-Pyrenees and 46 is the number of my department, identifying my car as living in the Lot. I'd like to think the E stands for Evelyn! Ya think?

Complete....finally!

2011-12-07T09:00:00.000-06:00

You might remember in one of my first posts from my new house that I only had two photos ready to hang over my couch. They were the two that I had printed on canvas last spring and left here for Laury's vernissage in past August. I picked a third photo to have printed and stretched soon after I arrived here in late September. Not until I bought my car, though, did I want to hassle with getting it into Figeac to be finished. I finally got that done and picked up the final result last week. All three photos were taken here in the Lot...one of the river, the bottle at Jane and Yves' house, and the sparkly spider web was decorating Jean's big front tree one morning last winter. The trio is finally complete!

My First Dinner Party

2011-12-05T03:50:00.000-06:00

I hosted my first dinner party in France last night, and I'm very pleased with how it all turned out. It's difficult to cook and entertain in a kitchen outfitted by someone else. Since I rented my house furnished, it also came completely stocked with dishes, glasses, flatware and cooking utensils. So the only things that are truly mine on this table are the blue table runners and my grandmother's silver which I shipped here last summer. Dinner parties and aperos are the social events in this village; I've been invited to many of both, and it's time to start paying back those invitations! I decided to start small, though, and invited Laury, Jean and Greg for my first attempt. Since my oven is very tempermental (gets too hot, stays too hot and I have to turn it off and open the door to keep the right temperature) I wanted guests who I knew would be happy to eat mac and cheese if I cremated the roast. I also knew they would be honest and tell me if my dinner party was up to French standards, so I can invite my French friends next time. They were all fine with being my guinea pigs!

I set up my bar on the little kitchen trolley I bought at BUT. On offer...red wine, kirs, and cinzano.

Pre-dinner 'nibbles' on the coffee table in the living room. Lucie's taking a nap while she waits for the party to start.

We gathered at the table after drinks. First course was stuffed tomatoes, celeriac remoulade and a taboule salad, followed by the main course of turkey breast roasted with sliced red peppers and shallots, a side dish of carmelized carrots and fennel, and a potato/cauliflower gratin. We sipped a nice minervois with dinner which also paired nicely with the cheese course: a brie, a slice of gouda, and a tomme with plum chutney. Dessert....slices of a fromage blanc cake (much like a pound cake) topped with some of my clementine preserves and either creme fraiche or cream. I also put out small slices of the pastis that I bought up at the Telethon. Coffee, more wine and water to close the evening. The verdict? My guests gave me a thumbs up, and said I'm definitely ready to invite the French!

It was a fun evening...good friends and good conversation. And a nice way to say 'a bientot' to Laury who left this morning for two months in Holland.

How Do You Move a Christmas Tree?

2011-12-04T07:25:00.001-06:00

It's been a really busy week. Laury arrived home from the States late Tuesday evening and the rest of the week has been filled running errands with her to Figeac, Cajarc and Villefranche, an apero party, a dinner party and then last night, the annual Telethon. In between all these things, packing for her work assignment that begins Monday, closing down her house for two months, and catching up with Dali and Sam cuddles, Laury somehow found time to decorate the living Christmas tree that she bought prior to leaving for the States. She wanted just a little Cadrieu Christmas before she leaves as she'll be spending the holidays working in Holland. So...since she's turning off the utilities at the Chatette, she decided it would be easier for me to water her tree if it spent the next two months at my house. This morning in a drizzly rain, we made the transfer. Gathering gloves, the wheelbarrow, a big plastic bag and her trusted side-kick (me), Laury began by carefully lifting the decorated tree down her stone steps...

Next she put it up into the wheelbarrow...

and covered it with a big plastic bag to protect the ornaments and keep them on the tree for its ride to my house.

While Laury balanced the tree, I pushed the wheelbarrow down the street and 'round the corner to my back gate. I can just hear the villagers wondering 'what are those crazy American women doing now??'

Voila! Here it is in my house lending a very festive air for tonight's dinner party to say good-bye to Laury!

How do you move a Christmas tree? Very carefully and with a lot of love!

You Know You're Living in France....

2011-11-29T08:40:00.000-06:00

...when the bread knife is the most used utensil in your kitchen.

...when your 'fridge is always stocked with lardons and creme fraiche.

...when your hairdresser's name is Sandrine, and she makes house calls.

...when your insurance information and

your vehicle registration are posted on your car's windshield.

...when you have a carte de fidelite from the local supermarket dangling from your key ring!

Thanksgiving Surprise!

2011-11-27T04:18:00.000-06:00

Had I known the true nature of the invitation to Jane and Yves' house for lunch on Friday, I would have definitely taken along my camera. As it was, I had no idea of the surprise in store for me and left my camera sitting on the kitchen table. (The first rule of being a photographer is to ALWAYS take your camera...duh!) So, you'll have to be content with last spring's photo of Jane and Yves taken when Laury and I visited them. In honor of American Thanksgiving, Jane put together a yummy traditional Thanksgiving lunch for Jean and I! Our meal started with Jane's signature garlic soup and was followed by roast turkey breast and legs, a potato-cauliflower gratin, roasted sweet potatoes, English bread gravy, regular gravy and a jar of cranberry sauce contributed by Jean. In typical French fashion, the next course was cheese and bread. Jane baked a real pumpkin pie for dessert...real as in not made with canned pumpkin, but with real pumpkin that she cooked and blended for the filling. Wine, a warm fire, good conversation and good friends made the afternoon complete. I couldn't have asked for a better Thanksgiving in France! And true to my goal of 'melanged magic'....our meal was truly a melange of French, English, and American foods and traditions.

I did confess to Jane and Jean, tho, that I felt a trifle guilty celebrating our American holiday with them. After all, those thankful English pilgrims eventually became those contrary American revolutionists just a few generations later putting an end to England's rule of her colonies. Oh well...there were no hard feelings evident at lunch!

What I'm Grateful For

2011-11-25T01:24:00.000-06:00

While you were enjoying turkey dinner with all the trimmings yesterday, I made the trek to Toulouse to obtain the residence sticker for my passport. This goes with my long-term visa and identifies me now as a temporary resident of France. Yay, me! This is acutally a collage of the sticker...didn't think I wanted all my official 'numbers' out there on the 'net. I had read that this part of the process was almost a non-event, but I was still anxious about not only the visit itself, but also finding the office. Indeed, finding the OFII building was tricky even with good directions from Google. I've found that if I take a wrong turn or miss an exit here, it's difficult to turn around and re-trace my route. Too many years living in the flat Midwest, I guess, where everything is laid out in a nice grid ...nothing is organized like that here, so I try to get it right the first time and not have to struggle with angled streets, impossible-to-find alternate routes, confusing round-a-bouts, etc.

Once I found the office, though, the process couldn't have been easier. Everyone was very nice, it went quickly, and before I knew it, I had my sticker and was out the door! The dogs were happy that I returned home only a half hour late to serve them their dinner. I was happy...and grateful...to have this last big thing checked off on my 'move to France' to-do list.

My Week at a Glance

2011-11-23T05:54:00.000-06:00

This is kind of my week at a glance. From the right...Tuesday found me in Cajarc mailing the signed insurance contract for my car along with the yearly premium. I also bought stamps at La Poste. The black folder contains all the paperwork for my car along with the manual for its radio/CD player. You see, the radio requires a code to activate it, and of course, I don't have the code. So, papers in hand I went back to the garage where I bought the car and managed to find enough French to ask if they had the code. Stephane worked magic on the Internet, found it, and even programmed it into my radio.

Wednesday...I'll take the Maeve Binchy book back up to the library and see if they have anything else in English I might like to read. The English shelf only has about 10 books, and I've already read half of them! I also made a trip back to Cajarc this morning to retrieve the radio manual that I left at the garage yesterday. Does anyone know how to say 'Duh!' in French??

Thursday...while you're eating turkey dinner with friends and family, I'll be in Toulouse for my visa appointment with the Office of Immigration. Seems really funny to have an appointment scheduled on Thanksgiving day. Hopefully, I'll be able to find this place. The blue folder contains all my visa paperwork and also a folder I call my "proof that I exist" folder. In France, every official transaction from opening a bank account to registering your car to getting your visa requires that you prove you exist! While they want to see your passport or your carte d'identite if you're French, les fontionaires also want proof that you exist in the real world. This requires that you show them a rent receipt, a purchase contract for your house, your electric bill or your phone bill. I keep all this together in a folder, so I can take it with me when I do anything official. If you're a homeless person, does this mean you don't exist in France? Kind of makes you think, huh?

Friday...if I have the energy after living in French all week, I may make something 'turkey' just because. I've never seen turkey on a restaurant menu, but it's quite popular in France and there is lots on offer at the grocery store. Not whole birds, tho. Mostly rolled breast meat to roast and legs. I think a nice roast with shallots and maybe a potato/cauliflower gratin? Not exactly a traditional American Thanksgiving dinner, but as close as I'll come this year.

Clementines

2011-11-20T08:44:00.000-06:00

I fell in love with clementines last winter.Somehow they taste so much sweeter here in France than I remember from the States. They're such a healthy, easy snack; I buy them by the bag-full. So you can imagine how distressed I was to see the ones from the bag I bought last week starting to spoil right before my very eyes. I probably lost almost a third of the bag before I decided to see if there was some way to make jam from the good ones left. Christine Ferber to the rescue! You'll remember that I sent over a few favorite cookbooks this summer in preparation for my move here to France. Madame Ferber's book, Mes Confitures, is one that made the trip. She's the queen of French jams and jellies, and sure enough she had two different recipes for clementines. She uses her own homemade apple jelly instead of store-bought pectin. Not something I wanted to do, so I called my friend, Jean, who makes excellent jam.

I asked her where she buys her pectin and was surprised to learn that she never uses pectin! She thought there would be enough natural pectin in the lemons that are added to make the jam set. To be sure, she suggested buying 'confisuc,' special French sugar with a gelling agent especially for making jam. I decided to give it a go, as my Brit friends say. Now, my cookbook says to remove all the white part of the clementines. I hope you're not offended, but that just didn't happen. How in the world do you get all that off those tiny segments? I boiled the fruit, sliced lemons, sugar and a bit of cinnamon together and then let the mixture rest overnight in the 'fridge. My kitchen smelled heavenly-all cinnamon-y and citrus-y.

This morning I drained all the liquid from the fruit and brought it to a boil again. It boiled until it started to set; then I added the fruit back and cooked it a bit longer. I ended up with these three jars plus and a slightly larger one. While I would have liked a bit more firmness, the jam set up fairly well. And the taste is yummy...kind of a cross between marmalade and Christmas. I'm happy that most of my clementines didn't go to waster. Next time I must remember to check the bag to see if it carries a 'sell by' date!

It's That Time of Year Again

2011-11-19T03:02:00.000-06:00

Time for the celebration of this year's wine harvest! I treated myself to a bottle of the very young, very raw beaujolais. Yes..it's more about the party and definitely less about the taste of the wine!

And it's that time of year for the fire department's annual calendar distribution/ fund-raising visit. Unlike last year when I was so very puzzled over why I had two fire fighters knocking on my door, this year I knew exactly what they wanted. My donation ended up being twice what the bottle of beaujolais cost me, but was so much more worth it. Who doesn't appreciate two cute, young firemen at your door who wish you a bon weekend as they leave? I figure since Laury is gone, my donation should cover both of us!

I Have Wheels!

2011-11-15T07:37:00.000-06:00

I feel kind of like a teenager...the first time Dad gave me the car keys to my very own car. (Can you believe it was a 1963 Nash Rambler? OMG!) I am now the proud owner of my very own French car...a 2006 Clio. It's a diesel, 5-speed manual transmission and has AC. Not a luxury car, but very utilitarian for errands and a bit of exploring. The back seats lie flat, so I'll have plenty of room for Lucie and groceries and luggage when I have visitors. Diesel is cheaper than regular gas here in France, it gives better mileage, and a diesel engine lasts longer, so I think this was a good choice. Although I bought it on Nov.4th, I only took possession this morning. The garage where I bought it changed out several things, checked everything over and cleaned it up nicely. Waiting for it to be ready was good lesson in learning patience--very important when one lives in France as nothing gets accomplished quickly here.

There are still some loose ends to tie up...finalizing insurance, getting to the Prefecture in Villefranche to have it registered and buying the obligatory green reflective vest and triangle placards that every car in France is required to have visible in the car (not in the trunk!). But already I feel as if my world has opened up a bit. I can run into town for groceries when I want, and I'm really looking forward to loading up Lucie, getting out my Michelin map and wandering around the countryside.

Dawn Over the Lot

2011-11-14T01:13:00.000-06:00

Can you see why I love the view from my bedroom window?

Mort pour France

2011-11-12T02:25:00.003-06:00

Yesterday during the 11th hour, people all over France took time out to commemorate lives lost for their country during WWI, WW II, and the Algerian War. Even my tiny village had a commemoration event. We began gathering in front of the church at 11:45am, about 40 of us in all, villagers and ex-pats. Christiane read a short piece while everyone listened solemnly. Three children then laid a wreath of flowers at the foot of the war dead memorial. Madame Gentou, the mayor, spoke a brief prayer and then began slowly reading each name. After each, the crowd intoned 'mort pour France,' Died for France. War and the toll it takes on life is not an abstract idea here; it is very personal. War was fought right here during WWII with the French Resistance being very active against the occupying Germans. Right across the river from where I sit and high on the causse, Belgian prisoners of war were executed. Had I been sitting here at my computer that day with my windows open, I might have even heard the shots. Each person lost from this little village left a huge whole in the lives of all. Each was someone's son, a husband, a beloved brother, a good neighbor. It's not a bad thing to set aside time to remember that war impacts real people and to pray that it never happens again.

Denis Mingau...mort pour France

Victor Vales...mort pour France

Victorien Florac...mort pour France

Gaston Pachim...mort pour France

Gaston Costes...mort pour France

Jacques Crabie...mort pour France

It's Tricky

2011-11-11T01:26:00.000-06:00

Being a good neighbor gets a bit tricky some days. I like to walk the dogs in the morning. On weekdays that means we go between 8:30am-9:00am. Most of my neighbors are up or on their way to work by then, so the cacaphony of barking dogs that we set off isn't much of a bother to them. On holidays and weekends, however, it gets trickier. Everyone sleeps in; no one wants to hear dogs barking, so we have to alter our normal route that circles the village. When we reach Christiane's house, we have to make a decision. If we go right up the road past the church, we can go as far as the Mairie...no dogs to disturb...but then we have to turn around. If we go left, we can walk the cemetery road past Patrick and Josiane's house. No dogs this far either.

Lots of rabbits, tho. Thank goodness, they don't bark!

After a very short walk on the main village road, we can cut down this gravel track. It always makes me a bit nervous if I see smoke curling from Madame's chimney. Has she let her little yapping dogs out for the day? We'll soon find out; even this far away, they'll sense Dali and Lucie and start barking!

How far we can walk down this road depends upon whether or not Monsieur's donkeys are out. Braying donkeys are almost as bad as barking dogs! It's so much easier when we can just do our nornal 'around the block' walk. And in case you're wondering...I have no control over those baying hunting hounds on the other side of the river. They are not baying at us!

It's almost 8:30am...time to walk the dogs. Now let's see: it's Friday, but it's a holiday, so....

Happiness is...

2011-11-09T09:25:00.000-06:00

4 GREEN DOTS!

I called France Telecom on Oct. 3rd to have my phone/internet service started. I've had all the equipment...Livebox, cables, filters, secret passwords, etc. for weeks. Heck, I've even had a bill. All for service that I haven't had....until this afternoon. It's a long story. Evidently there were issues because my friends who I rent this house from are still using the number that they had when they lived here. It's complicated, and I'm not sure I'd get it even if I understood French. Then France Telecom insisted they had hooked me up, however I still only had flashing red lights everywhere. No one quite knew what the problem was. But the bottom line is a guy came today, climbed the pole in front of the house, did something to the exterior line that took less than 3 minutes, and voila...I have connectivity! Thank goodness for Laury's wireless during this past month and a big 'merci beaucoup!' to Patrick who continued to nag them in French while I nagged them in English!

A Post For My Male Readers...

2011-11-07T03:54:00.000-06:00

No, not topless sunbathing on France's beaches! Equipment....as in big boy building toys.

I've been fascinated with big equipment since my living-on-the-farm days. Probably because I had my own tractor to drive then...never mind that it was mine to drive because I couldn't figure out how drive any of our other, bigger ones. Anyway...I see lots of tractors here in my village. There are farm fields interspersed with houses everywhere. This field is right across the street from the mairie. But tractors aren't what fascinate me. These babies are....

I have no idea what these things do except this last one..

It lifts huge slabs of rock!

Pretty cool, huh?

Checking Writing 101

2011-11-05T04:01:00.000-05:00

When I contemplated my move to France, I knew there would be many, many things to learn about living in another country. I expected the really big things....like learning the language and becoming proficient in French manners. You know..the manners that dictate you ALWAYS say 'bonjour' when you enter a shop and ALWAYS say 'au revoir, merci' when you leave. Big things like becoming familiar with traffic and directional signs and wading through the bureaucracy to have utilities turned on. What I didn't expect were the little things that seem so simple in the States, yet seem to trip me up here. Little things like remembering to weigh and tag my own produce at the grocery store and always coming prepared with a euro coin in my pocket to release the grocery cart for use. Little things like writing a check!
I've probably written out hundreds of checks in my life. My dad was a banker; I know how to write checks...I thought! When I looked at my CA checks yesterday to write one as a deposit for my car, I felt like I needed a check writing 101 class. For starters, the written amount comes first, then you write in who the check is made out to. There's not only a place for the date, but also you have to fill in the location where you wrote the check. And trying to figure out how to write French numbers in words?? Let me tell you...it took both Jean and I to do it, and then it still wasn't correct. Thank goodness for the nice woman behind the counter. With her help, I finally got it done. I'm sure she spent the rest of the day shaking her head in amazement at my inability to do this simple, little thing!

Oh, did I mention I bought a car? You'll hear the rest of that story next week.

Unsettled

2011-11-04T04:27:00.000-05:00

The weather here has been a bit unsettled the past couple of weeks. It's been very warm, chilly, foggy, windy and rainy. The last few days the wind has been very strong and warm. Must have been leading up to the storm event last evening that brought loud, rolling thunder, lightning and heavy rain to the Lot River valley. At least, it's not snow. I've had emails from friends in Colorado who report two heavy, significant snowfalls already. My goal is to never have to deal with heavy snow again!

One plus to the unsettled weather here was this big, beautiful rainbow that spanned the sky over Saujac. It's reflection in the Lot was equally as lovely.

Toussaint

2011-11-02T03:44:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was Toussaint. It's an important French holiday. Everything was closed to enable people to visit the cemteries and honor their ancestors. Despite a steady light rain, several cars made their way to our village cemetery for family members to place flowers on the graves. This morning I captured some images of their offerings,

Happy Halloween!

2011-11-01T04:31:00.000-05:00

Halloween isn't a big deal here in France, but it sure is with my favorite kids! Couldn't resist sharing a bit of Grandma's pride and joy with you.

Who? Me??

2011-10-31T04:34:00.000-05:00

I decided to go to Mass yesterday afternoon at our little village church. There was a special Toussaint service at 2:30pm, and I thought it would be a nice introduction to this special time in France. As I walked up the hill, I saw the priest by his car. He called out..I looked around. Who was he talking to? No one seemed to respond to him. I looked at him...who? me?? He nodded, and I walked over. In rapid fire French he requested me to do something while he rummaged around in his very full trunk. 'OMG', I thought, 'he thinks I'm French.' In perfect French (made perfect because I have to say it so often!) I said 'I'm sorry, I speak only a little French.' Switching to pretty good English, he asked if I'd help him. By now he was searching for something in his backseat. 'OMG, help him do what?' I panicked as my eyes landed on the Communion wafers and other accoutrements of Catholic Mass. 'He thinks I'm Catholic...what if he asks me to do some Catholic thing that I have no idea what to do??' I lowered my voice and whispered, as if this was some highly sensitive state secret, 'I'm not Catholic; is that okay?' Helooked a bit puzzled, but he chuckled a bit and replied, 'of course...you are still welcome here!' Then he handed me a white satin cloth trimmed with gold and several priestly garments...I think his chasuable and robe. Can you see my face burning with embarassment as I walked into the church? He must have thought I was totally insane; all he wanted me to do was help him carry his things into the church. Even an Episcopalian can do that!

My embarassment only grew worse as I walked in the open doors. There was M. the Farmer, laughing at me! In his almost incomprehensible patois, he giggled, 'I thought maybe you were the new priest with that stuff...ha, ha, ha. But no, you can't be the priest...ha, ha, ha...unless they've changed the rules...ha, ha. ha! I had to giggle along with him...no, monsieur, not me! I'm just the not French, not Catholic crazy woman carrying the priest's things!

Our Daily Bread

2011-10-30T03:26:00.000-05:00

Can you guess what this is? Yes, the big green box is the mail box; all of us in the village have one. What we don't all have is the long, gray cylinder that's attached to it. If you saw this in Iowa, you'd guess it was for the newspaper. Rural newspaper delivery is/was common there, and people have similar receptacles to keep their paper out of the rain and snow. But this receptacle attached to Josie and Patrick's mailbox is not for the newspaper....it's for their daily baguette delivered fresh every morning from the bakery in Cajarc! I think it must be Patrick's invention...he's very handy that way. I'll have to keep my eyes peeled to see if anyone else in the village has such a handy device to receive their daily bread. I'll bet you don't get your daily bread in such an inventive way!

Still Blooming

2011-10-29T06:45:00.000-05:00

Even though it's fall, summer lingers...

while the causse is awash with gold...

and arms of orange embrace the Chateau.

Fall Colors

2011-10-27T03:21:00.000-05:00

It's been fun to compare this fall and its colors with last year's fall. I think everything is just as brilliant this year, but the wind has been blowing on and off which has stripped some of the pretty leaves from their branches before they were really ready to fall. The locals call this wind 'vent de fou' or crazy wind. I guess because it makes you crazy if it blows long enough! This morning the wind is warm, thank goodness. As winter approaches I'm sure it will blow icy cold. These pretty red leaves stretch their slender fingers on a protected side of a neighbor's house. It's almost as if they're trying to get into that shuttered window before winter truly arrives and they wither away.

Laury's Barn

2011-10-25T02:52:00.000-05:00

When I stand at the wall of windows in my dining room, this is what I see....Laury's barn. We laugh that I actually have a better view of it from my house than she does from hers! It's so pretty, and she's done so much work to get it looking like this. If you're interested in how she's restoring it, you can click here and read her blog accounts of this 'barn of her heart'. On the far right, you can just barely see the roof of the lavoir. It rained a little this morning, so there is some water flowing thru it today. Not enough, though, for me to be able to tell if I can hear it when it rushes like I could from Laury's house. I hope I can; I loved that sound! Below is a 'before' photo of the barn that I took on my first visit to Cadrieu in 2009...

View From My Window

2011-10-24T03:12:00.000-05:00

This is the view from my bedroom window. That's Saujac on the other side of the Lot. You can see the church steeple; at night it's illuminated, so no matter what time I get up and look out my window, I can see the church keeping company with the myriad of stars that twinkle over the causse. When the weather is warm enough to have the windows open, I can hear the church bells chime the hour and half hour.

Last winter when I blogged from Laury's house, I used "View From My Window" for the blog titles I wrote that expressed my opinions and views about France, the US, and the world. Now that I live here, I'll be using this 'view' for those posts. When you see this view of Saujac, you'll know there is an opinion coming. You are forewarned that the opinions expressed are mine alone!

Have You Seen My Shower?

2011-10-23T03:24:00.002-05:00

Have you seen my shower?? C'est tres magnifique! Just look at all those gadgets! It's definitely not something I'd ordinarily have for myself, but it's here, it's so Patrick, and I love it! It's totally enclosed, so unless I have the fan on, it functions as a steam shower. I can shower with the regular shower head at the left, or I can turn on the 'rain' head on top. Then it's like standing under a gentle waterfall or standing in a warm rain. The jets across the back allow me to have directed, pulsating spray in two different areas. Great for sore muscles. I can even sit down in front of them to further direct their massaging action. It has a light and as I said above, a fan. Oh yes...it's also equipped with an FM radio! I can listen to French music while I shower. What luxury!

My second favorite thing about my bathroom is my petite washing machine. I bought it at BUT soon after I arrived and it fits perfectly in this little niche where the hookups are. The tub rotates like a ferris wheel...quite ingenious how it fits in the small space. The first time I opened it, I remembered Laury told me that the first time she opened her machine (she has the same model), she accidently locked it and thought she had broken it before she even used it. Of course, I had a similar misadventure when I tried to open the tub. The bottom of the tub was visible when I lifted the lid. Heck, what do I know? I thought it was the top, and sure enough it had a lever that opened it. When I pushed it, it immediately fell into the tub leaving a gaping opening. OMG! I couldn't get it back in place and was sure that I had ruined the machine. Luckily, I thought to rotate the tub which brought the real opening into view. I pushed the button and voila! it opened the proper way, and I could reach in and replace the piece that had fallen in. Evidently, it is the bottom of the tub and can be removed if you need to manually drain it. I've washed several loads of clothing, and I couldn't be more pleased. I've used the 'rapide' setting which does a load in around 30 minutes and gets my clothes sparkling clean. The wash cycles for 'coton' and 'coloures' last up to 2 hours! I can't imagine how clean my clothes would be after a few washings on those settings...if I even had any clothes left!

More Little Train House

2011-10-22T04:02:00.002-05:00

Here are a few more photos of the house. Yes, the pictures leaning on the sofa are going on the wall above it. I'm having a third one done on canvas, and as soon as it's ready, I'll hang all three. I brought some of my other framed photos. Hanging them on my walls really make it feel more like home since all the furniture was already here. I still have a few things to purchase...like an area rug for this living room, a couple of throw rugs for the kitchen, some table linen, a desk, and maybe a DVD player. But the house is very live-able just as it is. For that, I'm very grateful!

This is my room. While the bedspread isn't exactly what I would have chosen, it does go nicely with my hollyhock photos. The other three hollyhocks are on the right wall. Lucie doesn't seem to mind the bright colors at all!

The French do bathrooms in such a civilized way. Open the door marked 'Eiffel Tower' and what do you find?

The toilet in its own petite room! I'll share the rest of the bathroom story another time. You won't want to miss it!

Little House on the Train Tracks

2011-10-21T05:07:00.000-05:00

You may have noticed that I've changed my blog profile photo to this one that Laury took of me sitting on the old wagon she rescued from her barn. (For more about the wagon, click here.) She managed to get me as well as the back of my house behind me. That long wall of windows is the enclosed terrace, now a dining room. There are two sliders that open into the backyard. The other little windows open into the salle de bain and le toilette. While I wish the house renovation had preserved some of the historic details inside, it's clean and very comfortable. And I'm not complaining about any of the modern touches!

The dining room. If I ever get really brave, I may throw a big dinner party and fill this table!

The kitchen is fully electric and equipped with dishwasher, conventional/convection oven and a ceramic stove top. It's big enough to accommodate a table that will expand to seat 6. We'll continue the tour next time...

PN 434

2011-10-20T08:29:00.000-05:00

While I still don't have my own phone/internet connection, I decided I better use Laury's wireless to blog before my friends and family fear I have fallen off the edge of the earth! Everything is good here....just no internet yet. I'm sure you're curious about my little French train house. Well, here it is...PN 434. PN stands for passage a niveau and each railroad house along the train line is numbered PN ___. I live in PN 434. Passage a niveau means 'level crossing' in French, hence the house is located where the tracks make a level crossing over a road. Here at my house the tracks cross Les Hortes just outside my back door. I'm almost disappointed that the trains no longer run. How fun it would be to see one chugging by my gate! This house has been renovated with the back terrace being enclosed. It now houses a dining room table that can seat 12 and a huge china hutch.

These windows open onto my kitchen and my living room...

This is the front of the house that faces the river. The second floor windows open to my bedroom where I have a wonderful view of both the river and the village of Saujac on the other side of it. You can also see part of the dining room windows on the left. Look up! See my big neighbor? That's the Chateau looming large above me. I'll share more photos of the inside soon.

2011-10-08T07:08:00.000-05:00

It's hard to believe that I've been here over a week and haven't taken a single photo! Not that there haven't been photo-worthy moments. I'm just really focused on getting settled into my new home. I've been into Figeac twice, gone to language class (English class for French friends that Greg teaches every week up at the library, attended French class at Christiane's, and had dinner up at Jean's house. In between, I've arranged and re-arranged furniture, reorganized my kitchen at least twice, found places for all my clothes, and gotten most of the framed photos that I shipped here last summer hung where I think they're going to stay. You know how it is...you kind of have to live with things for awhile to see how you like them. I've sent and received back another photo printed on canvas that I'll hang over my couch with the two I left here for Laury's vernissage. Once they're up, I'll certainly put a photo of them on the blog. Lucie has settled in nicely, and we're walking twice every day.

Yesterday, Jean took Laury and I into Figeac and I bought a washing machine, a microwave and an iron. I'm a happy camper! And once my washer arrives next week, I'll be a happy camper in clean clothes. Once France Telecom activates my phone/internet line, I'll be connected to the world and blogging will be much easier. Maybe by then, I'll have some current photos to share!

I've Arrived!

2011-10-03T02:35:00.000-05:00

No photo today, but I do want to let the world know that I've arrived safely in France and have moved into my new home! My trip went smoothly, the weather has been perfect, and Lucie remembers me...life is good! Posting may be spotty for awhile until I get my phone/internet hooked up. I couldn't be more delighted to be here.

Nevada

2011-09-26T11:33:00.000-05:00

I've been blessed with almost perfect weather on this jaunt across the West to visit friends and family. I snapped this beautiful hot air balloon just outside the door of my motel in Elko, NV. My stay here at my brother's in Reno has been relaxed and pleasant. We've caught up on all the family news, wandered an old Reno neighborhood admiring historic houses, browsed in a great independent bookstore and enjoyed a family barbeque hosted by my brother, Jim. Yesterday we drove to Yerington to see my dad one more time before I fly to France. It was another difficult goodbye. But, hey...my dad has his passport. Maybe I'll be able to talk him into visiting me in Cadrieu? Ya never know!

I'll be leaving tomorrow morning and will arrive in France on Wednesday afternoon. I hope to blog again by the end of the week. A bientot!

My dad and my brother, Jim.

So Hard to Say Goodbye!

2011-09-21T20:12:00.001-05:00

While I'm beyond excited to be returning to France to live, saying goodbye to family hasn't been easy. Especially since I don't know exactly when I'll be returning for a visit. Getting everyone to sit still in the same place for a photo is also difficult. Luckily Becky was able to snap this photo a couple of weeks ago when my dad visited. I hope I look as good as he does when I'm 90 years old!.

Road Trip Wonders

2011-09-20T20:12:00.000-05:00

I've put over 1800 miles on the odometer since I left Iowa 10 days ago. The weather has been perfect most of the way and even sitting in lines of traffic at road construction sites has had some positive moments. Like this photo I was able to snap while I awaited the pilot car at the top of Togwotee Pass in Wyoming. It's my favorite way to Yellowstone with magnificent views of the Tetons as you descend into the Snake River valley. Usually I see these stark mountains at the top of the pass as I whiz by at 60 mph. This day, however, I had plenty of time to enjoy their beauty.

Paris is How Far Away??

2011-09-13T09:35:00.001-05:00

Paris is how far away?? I seem to be moving in the wrong direction!

(Sign seen outside a cool European goods shop on Pearl St. in Boulder.)

Sights on the Mall

2011-09-12T09:33:00.000-05:00

After church Edith and I strolled all afternoon up and down the Pearl St. Mall in downtown Boulder. It has the distinction of being the very first pedestrian mall in the country with its first two blocks closed to traffic in the mid-1970s. I remember walking on it then and thinking it was just the coolest thing ever. Today it extends several blocks and is a mix of independent stores intermingled with some larger chain stores. For years, the chains were kept out, but times change, rents rise, and the chains have moved in...sigh! My second** favorite independent bookstore in the whole world, the Boulder Boostore, still anchors one corner, though, and I intend to visit it today. According to Edith, this photo captures the latest in urban graffiti...knitted 'cozies' for parking meters, mailboxes, etc. This one covered the 'rent-a-Boulder-bike' ticket dispenser. I kind of like it better than the usual paint 'tags' you see on the sides of buildings. Buskers abound on the Mall...drumming, playing guitars. dancing.The balloon man has a unique way of advertising, don't you think?

**my first favorite bookstore is Shakespeare & Co. sitting across from Notre Dame in Pars!

Breakfast with the Flatirons

2011-09-11T16:40:00.000-05:00

I ate breakfast on Edith's patio this morning and the Flatirons kept me company. The sun was just coming up, casting an orange-y glow on the rocks and it couldn't have benn more beautiful. Anyone who has ever been to Boulder knows that the Flatirons define this pretty valley. Edith's house has almost floor to ceiling windows along the entire south side of the house. The view is just about 180 degrees, quite breath-taking. You can see all of the University of Colorado at Boulder, NCAR up on the mesa and all of downtown Boulder. The photo below is a zoomed shot of Devil's Thumb.

On The Road Again...

2011-09-09T05:00:00.004-05:00

I'm off to begin my new adventure tomorrow morning. I'll spend the next two weeks traveling west to visit friends and family ending up in Reno for my September 27th flight to France. I hope to continue blogging while I'm on the road, but that will depend on my internet access and time. Check back to keep up with Melanged Magic or receive each new post by email. Subscribe by entering your email address in the space provided to the left.

PS...this isn't the car that will be carrying me west! I took this photo a couple of years ago at the Bartlett Arboretum outside Wichita, KS.

Cobwebs

2011-09-07T05:00:00.002-05:00

I've been thinking about spider webs and cobwebs a lot the past few days. Not these pretty webs that I photographed in France, but rather the annoying ones that seem to lurk in every corner and under every surface in my house. One of the things that I'm doing in preparation for closing up Red Bell Farm for the winter is a thorough cleaning. It's really not all that dirty in the house...after all I've hardly been here the past year...but there are cobwebs and spider webs everywhere. Guess it's something about living in the country. So, my chore today is to eliminate as many of them as I can find. Curious about how these pesky things came to be named cobwebs, I Googled the answer. 'Coppe' is an old Middle English word that meant spider and gradually slurred over the years into cob. That mystery solved, now it's time to get rid of every one I can find!

Tango-ing in Cahors

2011-09-05T10:15:00.000-05:00

Often a trip into a French town or village offers up a surprise that delights me. Do you remember the time Laury and I ran into a protest parade in Figeac? Or how about the local band that played at the Christmas market in Cajarc? Last year soon after I arrived in France, Laury and I made a trip into Cahors so I could drop off my rental car. As we strolled down rue Gambetta, I was once again delighted by unexpected entertainment...couples dancing the tango. This is not something you see in downtown Des Moines!

I wonder what entertainment I'll find in Cahors this year?

Msr. Winkelmann and the Methodists

2011-09-03T06:53:00.000-05:00

This is Laury's baby grand piano, Msr. Winkelmann. He has the honor of living in his very own room at the Chatette. I took this photo in 2009, and Laury has since re-arranged the furniture a bit, but you get the idea...he pretty much dominates the space; he's an important member of the family. When Laury read my blog post about building a life in France, she shared that one thing she chose to ship to France when she moved there was 30 pounds of sheet music for Msr. Winkelmann and her to enjoy playing. I replied...'you gonna laugh, but I thought about shipping my old Methodist hymnal so I could play hymns...on a piano that I don't even have.' I love to play hymns...they're easy, the music has great full chords, and I know the tune and the words to most of them. She emailed me right back...'Bring the hymnal! I'd love to hear you play them on Msr. Winkelmann.' We'll see...

You may remember this beautiful baby grand from this blog post...

Building a Life

2011-09-01T09:28:00.001-05:00

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about what it means to build a new life. Like this beautiful stone wall, which pieces of my life will fit together in France like these stones? which pieces will need to be discarded or re-shaped in the future? what's going to hold it all together? and will it be functional as well as beautiful like this wall?

When I return to France the end of September, my life will be quite unlike it's ever been. I will not be on vacation. I will not be house-sitting for friends. I will not be an observer of French life; I will be living it. I love that I am able to give some conscious thought to just how I want this life to be. I don't want to totally detach myself from what life's been like for the last 60+ years, yet I want to arrive in France with a slate clean enough to create something that's uniquely 'me in France.'

Six boxes of 'me' have already arrived in Cadrieu. I've sent some clothes, some art, some CDs and some books. With digital technology, I have access to photos of family and friends and to my favorite music. I've shipped my grandmother's silver to Cadrieu, knowing that entertaining will be a part of my new life. It has place settings for 12 people, and I anticipate using every piece! I've sent a few of my favorite cookbooks, because even though learning to cook French is part of my plan, I'll still want to make my favorite American dishes. I know Laury giggled when she opened the box I shipped that contained both my English and French dictionaires. Why send those, you ask? Because they both would be very difficult and very expensive to replace in France, as would the vitamins and calcium tablets I tucked into another box. I included my santon collection in a box along with a burlap and yarn Christmas 'decoration' that Travis made in the 6th grade. And I absolutely could not leave my down bed pillows behind! I'll bet Laury giggled over those as well.

If you were going to build a new life somewhere, what would you take along?

This little piece of Red Bell Farm will also be part of my new 'me in France' life.

The Violet Umbrella

2011-08-30T14:29:00.000-05:00

It's a whole month until I'm back in France with a lot of fun travel visiting family and friends before I depart. I do miss my village, though, and I've been re-living some wonderful memories through the photos I took last winter. I don't often enhance my photos with the various tools in my photography software. The most I do is sometimes crop an image or tweak the contrast and brightness. I found these two, though, that I had fun with focus and color. I took them the day that Laury and I spent in Figeac at the Lion's Club photography vernissage. It was a cool misty day....

I call this one "The Violet Umbrella."

This one is simply labelled 'umbrella in black and white.' Any suggestions for a more interesting title?

The Plan

2011-08-27T08:38:00.000-05:00

Here's the plan...I'l return to France the end of September. I will live here in Cadrieu. The Little Train House that I've arranged to rent is right up the road from Laury's...you can barely see it on the far right of this Google photo. It sits right below the big white building which is the Chateau. My visa allows me to stay indefinitely in France with yearly renewal. Since I haven't sold my acreage in Iowa, I will close it up for the winter again and put it on the market again come spring. I'll return to the States when it sells and spend time with family. Depending on the timing of everything next year, I may work at camp again. As I can't work legally in France, it would be really nice to earn a bit of money to keep my dream going! As I gather more information about an address and phone number, I will share. I'll always be reachable, tho, thru my email. And I'll continue to melange magic here in the Lot at Melanged Magic. I've added a place right under my profile where you can sign up to subscribe to my blog and receive it by email each time I post an entry. Don't miss a minute of the Magic! Sign up today!

I GOT IT!!

2011-08-26T05:00:00.001-05:00

I got it! My long-term stay visa for France was delivered at noon today, and I couldn't be more thrilled. If you've ever dealt with the French bureaucracy, you know that even with meticulous attention to your paperwork, nothing is a given. No guarantees that they would grant this visitor's visa allowing me to stay a year with the option of renewal indefinitely. And you don't even want to know how much paperwork was involved in its application. Once I get to France, I have to mail additional paperwork to the prefect's office in Toulouse. They will then give me an appointment to visit to their offices where I will receive a residence card. This is what will have to be renewed yearly as long as I want to continue to reside in France. If you've ever heard of the carte de sejour, this residence card is what has taken its place. So, I'm legal (unlike last winter when I was not!).

Look out world! Make way for a woman who is making her dream come true!

Campsick

2011-08-25T08:19:00.000-05:00

During the waning days of camp, we begin to sing ourselves home...'Five more days of vacation, back to civilization. Back to sisters and brothers, kisses and smothers. Back to boys and news..' And then we lament...'we get campsick,' that yearning for camp and being homesick for our friends. I'm pretty campsick this week, thinking about all my new friends. Counselor friends headed back to colleges like Notre Dame, Indiana University, Princeton, Dartmouth, St. Olaf, the University of Nebraska, De Pauw, and the University of Wisconsin. Camper friends getting ready to start school in suburbs like Lake Forest, Wilmette, Mill Valley, Crested Butte and Denver. Staff friends who will be skiing in Park City this winter, trekking in Nepal and living in Ireland. Good memories and good friends...ingredients to make anyone campsick!

Bye, Bye Birdie

2011-08-23T11:02:00.000-05:00

This is the group of counselors responsible for both the production of 'Annie' and for the second camp session production of 'Bye, Bye Birdie.' I'm amazed at the quality of both performances and the amount of work that these young women do getting the show to go. Here's a taste of 'Birdie!'

This is the last video for awhile...I promise!

"I Want To Celebrate and Live My Life!"

2011-08-22T09:19:00.001-05:00

Dance Night 2011. The grass in the Ampitheatre was alive with dancing girls...campers and counselors alike. Even the littlest campers seemed to know all the dance moves. Guess it's kind of like we all knew how to do the Twist, the Mashed Potatoes, and the Surfer Stomp, eh? Here's just a taste of the joyful energy that over 120 dancing girls bring to the evening...

Air Band 2

2011-08-21T10:59:00.000-05:00

Although camp is over for this year, there are some images from the summer that I'd like to share with you. I wasn't able to upload much video because of the really s-l-o-w wireless connection in the office. So these next few posts had to wait until I was home. Now I am, so here you go...

As I told you earlier in the summer, Air Band is everyone's very favorite evening program. In case you don't remember, Air Band is an evening of lip-sync dance routines that each cabin puts together. The second session campers were obviously experienced at Air Band...you'll notice that many of them brought costumes and accessories to make costumes. I loved them all, but my very favorite was "Proud Mary" probably because I knew the words!

I can see you now...tapping your feet and singing along!

Chicago

2011-08-18T07:38:00.000-05:00

Quite a different view from this window than the one I've been enjoying for the past two months, eh? I spent Tuesday night at the Comfort Suites in the heart of Chicago on North Michigan Blvd. This was what I could see from my 7th floor window. I was totaly surrounded by very impressive, very important looking skyscrapers, some with beautiful architectural details. While I didn't have sweeping views of the skyline or Lake Michigan, it was still fun to watch the lights wink on as it grew dark and listen to the street noise as hundreds of Chicagoans and tourists made their way up and down the busy street. My purpose in being here was to keep a scheduled appointment at the French Consulate for my long-term stay visa application. I was literally less than a block from the Consulate which made getting there easy; a brief walk and I was badged into the elevator that whisked me up to the 37th floor and my fate! In and out in under 15 minutes, I had all the proper papers, was finger-printed and photographed. Now the 7-10 day wait...will it be granted? It's in God's hands now!!

Pontoon Ponderings

2011-08-16T19:11:00.000-05:00

Each of us enjoyed our pontoon boat ride around Big Clear Lake yesterday afternoon in different ways. Connie enjoyed sharing the history of the houses that dot the lake's islands and keeping an eye out for other boaters

Chuck enjoyed pointing out various canoe campsites and alerting Connie about rocks and shallow water ahead.

Scout enjoyed keeping us alerted to wildlife on the lake...loons, gulls, and eagles,

and Annie enjoyed a peaceful nap...lulled by the throaty gurgle of the engine and the gentle vibration of the boat.

Counselor Camp

2011-08-15T10:12:00.000-05:00

The last camper had barely left the property Saturday afternoon when my friend, Annie exclaimed, "Yahoo...now we can have counselor camp!" It was then that I realized why one of everything on the waterfront had been left out. Annie immediately changed into her swimsuit and went windsurfing...

Connie rev-vd up the Malibu and took people waterskiing...

and tubing...

Today the plan is for a picnic lunch on the pontoon boat while we cruise Big Clear Lake and maybe a bit of a sail this afternoon if the wind picks up.

Counselor camp is 'way fun!

Waterfront: Before and After

2011-08-14T14:03:00.000-05:00

Do you remember this photo from the first of the summer here at camp?

This is what the waterfront looked liked just 3 hours after the buses full of campers left. The dock and ladders are completely pulled out and ready to store. The trampoline is deflated and the ropes that define the boundaries of the swimming area are gone. Most of the boats are dry-docked in their winter homes. Most...but not all! You'll learn the rest of the story in my next post.

Singing Them Home

2011-08-13T14:04:00.000-05:00

Camp is over! While about a third of the campers are picked up by their parents, the rest of them left this morning right after breakfast on two camp-chartered buses..

First there were hugs and tears...

then everyone sings....

Goodbye!

Laundry

2011-08-11T10:25:00.000-05:00

I love a good laundry photo! Opportunities to capture good images abound at camp...like outside of every cabin. Love the detail below. Everyone needs a flamingo beach towel!

International Night

2011-08-10T06:00:00.001-05:00

Last night was International Night at evening program. We have several international campers and staff here, and they shared fun facts about their home country with the whole camp. This is Alex, from Russia, pointing out where he lives in Russia. He even taught us all a few words in Russian! I have lots of other photos of the event, but the wireless loads so slowly here that I'll have to share them later when I'm back in Iowa.

Winding Down

2011-08-08T10:10:00.000-05:00

This is the final week of Session Two of camp and the final week of the summer. We're winding down for the year. Lots going on this week, tho. Tonight is International Night where our campers (mostly from Mexico) will share information about their country. Tomorrow night is Counselor Skits. Wednesday we'll see the premier of the camp drama show..."Bye, Bye Birdie." Thursday night is Banquet followed by Friday night Candlelight Ceremony. Saturday morning the campers leave! Winding down is definitely a bitter-sweet time...lots of fun things, but just a little bit of sadness to see these great girls leave.

Scout

2011-08-05T06:00:00.003-05:00

This is Scout, Connie's constant companion and official camp dog. Red Pine Camp has always been dog-friendly. The previous owners had two labs that lived in camp. You can always tell where Connie is...if you see Scout, you know she's close by. Scout was a rescue dog from a northern Minnesota Indian reservation. As a half-grown puppy, he was running with a pack of wild dogs and was going to be destroyed. Some time in his short past, he'd sustained a broken hind leg that never healed properly. A vet friend of Connie's called her and said 'if you want this dog, you better come now because they're going to kill him tomorrow.'

She made the trip, and Scout has been hers ever since. He walks a little funny, but otherwise runs all over camp following Connie on her rounds. The campers love him. He really does live a great dog's life...good food, good owner, freedom to run all over this beautiful place, and lots of little girls to scratch his ears and love on him!