A New Blog Title

As you can see, I have had to revise the title of my blog, as it will be more than a year in France. I've received my Carte de Sejour, making me a legal resident of France, and among other things, eligible for the French health care system.

If you've been following the blog, you know that I've bought a house. I haven't taken title yet, but think it will happen in the next couple of weeks. As you might guess, things are done somewhat differently here than in the U.S. The house is owned by a French woman, my age, who is retired from teaching English in the French school system, thus being fully fluent in English. This has made things much easier, as has the fact that she is the friend of a friend here, which is how I found out that the house was for sale. I am at work on the garden while we wait for the sale to close, as it has not been maintained for many years, prior to the current owner.

I also have a garden by the river, which I share with my friend and landlord, Alain. He is a retired vigneron, and was born here. I asked him when I returned from Paris if he knew anyone who would loan or sell one of the potagers down by the river, as I wanted a garden. He found one that the owners were happy to loan out, and Alain decided he wanted to have a garden too. So we are doing it together, he has one side and I have the other. I'm posting a photo of it before we started work, and one of the gate into it. It looks quite different now. Alain decided he would like to keep some hens, so built a coop for them and they are pecking and clucking away down there. Throughout Europe there is a tradition of gardens by the river; it's a medeival settlement pattern, the houses are clustered together for protection, and the gardens are outside the village and near the water source if possible. These in Roquebrun have probably been worked for hundreds of years. They are enclosed by stone walls and are just terribly picturesque and ancient looking. They all have wells as the water table is quite high, and some, including ours, has the tall stone column which was the fulcrum for a well sweep prior to the introduction of hand operated pumps. I have been told that these columns and the well sweeps were introduced by the Moors, and one of the indications that they got this far into France. I have just begun to plant a few things, it is still early here for summer crops. Its a big garden, probably 20 x 70, so I will have no trouble keeping busy with the two gardens and the house to fix. The garden next to ours has lettuce and cabbage family crops that have been producing throughout the winter.

My friend from England, Jan with the hordes of pets, will be here in a couple of weeks. She has lots of visitors and activity going on, so that will also help keep me out of trouble. The vide grenier season has started (the village wide garage sales, vide grenier means literally empty attic), and she and I like to visit as many of them as possible. The best thing is that we don't like the same stuff, so other than taking the opportunity to insult each other's taste, there are no problems with who gets to take something home.

Expect to hear more from me when the house sale is finalized. The photo of Roquebrun posted shows my new house; if you look in the center of the photo, there is a single house standing alone, with a large opening at the top (that's the opening to the grenier - the attic - which was used for drying chestnuts). That's the one.

Now there is a real Chezbon!

I've bought a house here in Roquebrun, at the top of the old village, right below the Mediterranean Garden and the tenth century tower. It is probably about 600 feet from the tower, which had extensive fortifications around it, and closer than that to the 14th century church, which again had an abbey and dependances. The house dates from around 1860 and is on four levels: the bottom level is the "cave" which we would call the basement. It consists of a large room, and two smaller ones which are vaulted. I think parts of the vaulted cave date back much farther than the house itself. This village, like so many others, has layers of buildings. Something would fall down or be destroyed by an invading army (such as the Albigensian crusade), and the old foundations and walls reused for the next building. The next level up is the main floor, with the kitchen and living room; above that are three bedrooms and a bathroom, and at the top is a grenier (attic). The grenier was originally for drying chestnuts, and has great views over the river and the Orb Valley. Before I move in, I'm having additional windows installed and the grenier made habitable, including adding a stairway inside the house as the current grenier access is from an outside stairway. The house is built into a hill, so its four stories on one end and only one at the other. Its stone, of course, like all of the village houses, and the walls are two feet thick, which is why I'm not doing the windows myself. There is a large original Languedoc style fireplace, about six feet across (see photos). There are also ruins, two small single story rooms and one larger two story house with a cave. Here you can rebuild legally anything that was once a house, so I will probably do that. There are fewer restrictions on using old walls, or meeting current building codes, than there are in the US. I will probably have possession some time toward the end of April, but not move in until the first of June, as I don't want to be living there when the massive work is being done.

It has a large garden on several levels, and shares no common walls with any other houses, both things being unusual for a village house. Its quite private, as the public park is below me assuring my views, on the west side is my property for probably about fifty feet and then the windowless walls of a neighbor's house, barely visible, and they visit infrequently. The back of the property (north side) is below the road, and the other side (east) has a garden area about 20 feet wide against the two story stone walls, no windows, of the adjacent house. No one overlooks my garden on any side, or can disturb my views. Sweet .....

Now I'm sure you all are wondering, where is the Templar's Treasure? Of course, I will be looking for it. I would be happy with a few pottery shards or better yet a roman coin. There has to be some stuff on this site, Inside the house itself there is an area that has what appear to be two thickesses of interior wall, about two feet thick total, which rise above the vaulted caves below, and I suspect that portion of the house predates the rest of it, or at least those walls were reused in the building of the current house. So I've got another old house to fix up ....

FETE DU MIMOSA

February 14 was the Fete du Mimosa in Roquebrun. Its the first big event of the year, getting everyone in the mood for spring. It is timed to coincode with the blooming of the mimosa trees, a type of acacia that is endemic here. I even saw a few swallows, they're here awfully early. They were wearing fur coats and drinking hot toddys. Its still quite cold here, its been freezing every night. There is however, a lot of sun so the cold is bearable. Its warm in my house, and I dress warmly when I take the dogs on their long walk. They got to go to the Fete for a while, lots of other dogs and thousands of people. The streets were packed, and there were cars parked for about a mile up the road into the village. The village roads were all closed, as there was an artisan market on the main street and in the esplanade between the main street and the river, about a hundred sellers of everything from oysters (I got a dozen nice big ones for 4 euro), to strawberries, to bad jewelry. There were a number of nice things, and I also bought a watercolor of a village near here.

There was a parade, called a Corso here, which must be either Spanish, Italian or Occitan. It doesn't seem to be a French word. There were home made floats, trailers being pulled by decorated vineyard tractors, very charming. Several marching bands from surrounding communities, and a group of majorettes who I am sure were all over 35, and a few were probably 50plus. The final float was an old grape press, and tanks of wine on board being dispensed through a hose into cups which were handed out to the crowd. How great is that? The floats were fun too, children riding on them, and they were representing various civilizations. There was Egypt, Greece, the American Indians, the Vikings, and a couple of others -- the last one was the Gauls, and it was a big pig and some other figures, all poking fun at themselves, as these are the Gauls down here. There are a group of people dressed as bakers (see photo) and some may even be bakers, who dance around in circles and throw flour on everyone. Last year there was a contingent of vignerons in drag, but I guess it was too cold for them this year. I even went to the morning mass at the church, not having been to such a thing for about 40 years, since I went with my aunt once when I was visiting her. There are some very nice stained glass windows in the church, I don't know if they are old or not. The church is mostly from the 19th century, but has a small portion from the 14th. It was once an abbey with considerable land around it.

I think the Fete was a big success, I hope so. A bientot ....

AM I HOME?

Well, here I am back in Roquebrun. I had a great time in Paris, 3 months exploring the City of Light. The first month of it I had Pat with me, to remind me which museums we had already been to, and to provide historical and aesthetic details. She was in France for 3 months, and I can't wait for her to get back for another three. The final month in Paris I had the pleasure of Christopher's company, it was so much fun to show him places that I thought he would be particularly interested in. We also got to spend some time with my friends, Ellen and Jean Pierre. One night we had an oyster feast, I now know how to get one of those suckers open without ending up in the emergency room! We also had dinner at their place one night, and a good lunch with them after exploring the used and antique book market in the old horse auction and slaughterhouse buildings. We had Galette du Roi at both dinners, which is a very similar tradition to the Mexican breads served for Noche de Reyes. They are a sweet bread/cake with a tiny ceramic figure (different ones) and whoever gets the figure has to buy the cake for the next night. It goes on about 3 weeks or more. Another great treat, for both Chris and I, was having wine and appetizers with a friend of mine, Michelle, who I met through Rita (San Diego friend originally from Quebec). We had the opportunity to see her wonderful apartment in the Marais, and we all went to lunch afterwards. Her apartment is in a building dating from the 17th century, which was originally a private home.

During Chris' stay it was freezing, no really, I mean freezing. It snowed several times, and often was zero or slightly below (that's centigrade, folks, 32 degrees to you). At least it was Paris, not Fargo. We then drove back to the south, my home in Roquebrun, stopping along the way to see a fabulous chateau in the Loire Valley, Chambord. Its the one with the double helix staircase that some have attributed to the influence of Leonardo da Vinci, as the chateau was built originally by Francois I, the French king who brought Leonardo to France for the last years of his life. We arrived back in the village on a lovely sunny (cold) day, and the first people we saw on the street were my friends Horst & Daria, so that was a great welcome. A little later in the day we also saw Whisky, the village dog, trotting down the street on one of his missions, which was a special treat as he had been very ill in the fall, and he almost didn't make it. I had not heard the outcome, so seeing him going about his usual business really made my day. Today on my dog walk thru the village I met up with him, and he decided to go along with us for the rest of the walk, out of the village and down by the river. He's kind of an old guy, 13, and all or mostly poodle. He has an owner, but has always wandered at will through the village, he often sleeps at Horst & Daria's, and has come to parties at friends' homes during the summer. On hot days in the summer you'll see him walking thru the village all wet, as he has taken himself for a swim in the river. When he was sick last fall, his owner took him to the vet in a nearby town, and the vet wanted to put him down. The owner refused, and through Horst & Daria contacted a friend of Jan's (and mine) who is a vet also, and she treated him apparently with good success, as had I not known how sick he was, I would not be able to tell from his appearance. Interestlngly, he's one of the few dogs around who my dogs never once got snippy with, or were afraid of, they were instantly accepting and don't even mind when he sniffs their butts.

Chris only had a few days here in the south, but we found some antique and junk places to visit, and he saw the Mediterranean and got a little of it on his hands -- a bit too cold for a swim. This village is very old, with the ruins of a tower dating from the tenth century, and a church from the 12th century. There are many tiny winding lanes and very medeival looking buildings and settlement patterns. Most of the houses are from the 18th and 19th century,but they are built on much older foundations. One can only imagine what one might find digging around the tower or in the cellars .... Chris was especially struck by the ancient nature of the villages and the landscapes, it doesn't look much different than it did a thousand years ago. He insists he will make it back in the summer, hopefully that will happen. I hope other friends will visit too, I will find lodging for the overflow (my place has two beds).

In two weeks we have the Mimosa Festival (Fete du Mimosa) here in Roquebrun. I will be sure to post photos. I believe there will be a parade, a lecture on appropriate gardening, something that involves free wine, an artisan market with 120 vendors (hoping for a brocante too), and 8 bands, hopefully not all at once. I can't wait! The days are getting longer already, it isn't fully dark at 6:30. In the summer it doesn't get dark until after ten pm. My friend Jan, the mad Englishwoman who lives at the corner, will be returning at the end of April, and I can't wait to see her! We had the best time last year going to the vide greniers (literally means "empty attic" and sitting on her terrace at night drinking wine and engaging everyone who walked by in conversation. She is truly mad, she has 8 cats and 3 dogs which she brings back and forth to England every six months. I met her in the street in front of the first house I rented, only because I came out with two dogs as she was going into Horst & Daria's house across the street to have dinner. She immediately began talking to my dogs, and eventually noticed me. I ended up eating dinner with Horst & Daria, and Jan and her mother, that evening, and it really made a big difference in my feeling at home here.

Bottling of wine is apparently going on now. There are pallets of bottles sitting in front of some of the wine caves and domaines, and there are people working at the local cave cooperative and the clink of bottles can be heard in the street outside. The local domaine where I buy my bulk wine had the doors open yesterday, and instead of the displays of wine and olive oil (which they also produce) and the tasting table set up for the summer, there were hoses, bottles, barrels and other miscellany, obviously they are doing bottling there also.

So if any of you, or all of you, are wondering when I'm coming back, my answer would be not to hold your breath. I'm very comfortable in my little maisonette, and looking forward to the spring and summer here. I haven't found a house to buy, and am not actually looking. The dollar is in the toilet vs. the euro. And one doesn't find the good houses here by going to the realtor. You just wait and see what your friends tell you about. If its meant to be I'm sure it will happen. Meanwhile if the plumbing breaks or the electricity goes haywire, I just tell Alain and he will take care of it. Not that I expect such an occurrence, as its a new gite and everything works well. Still having delays with internet and phone service, but slowly, slowly, it is being resolved. Its the French way, if you want it right now, you better get over it. I'm thinking about a visit to San Diego in the late fall, perhaps Thanksgiving through my birthday (Feb. 4). I missed having my Christmas party this year, and Old California Thanksgiving at Casa Alvarado (Bruce and Alana, are you listening?). Unfortunately, I have no home in SD, nor a car, although both have been offered by my fans. I will also probably want to bring the dogs, which means I have to bring one of you over here to go back with me and have a dog under the seat. So I hope I'll see some of you here, before I see you there.

a bientot ....

bonnie

Note on Photos: Not always mentioned in text. Just things I thought were wonderful; Christmas window at the Galeries Lafayette with a vintage Chanel dress; the outside of Galeries Lafayette with the Christmas lighting scheme; one of a group of Japanese plates from the Musee dOrsay; a view in one of the "passages" of Paris, the first shopping malls from the turn of the century. There are too many wonderful things to begin thinking about which to include.

Happy Holidays!

I'm in Paris for the holidays. Pat and I arrived here in mid-October, for a full rundown on what happened since my previous posting, please take a look at Pat Hartley's facebook photo album. She did a great job of chronicling our trip to Paris, the Loire Valley, and the month we were here before she left. I don't need to add to it, so I'll pick it up where she went home. Note the photos from the wonderful display of carousel aninals. The zebra striped donkey was obviously done by someone who had visited Tijuana.

I've posted some photos of the vendange in Roquebrun, which was going on when we got back from our tour. Early every morning I awoke to the sound of tractors pulling empty grape trailers down the road (much noisier empty than full). By mid-morning there would be a line of them waiting to dump their grapes at the Cave Cooperative a couple of blocks down the road from my house. By afternoon they are finished for the day. In all of the villages traffic is rerouted to accommodate the tractors, and there are large piles of fermenting stems and skins outside the cooperatives, which eventually get hauled away for fertilizer. There are also the vendangeurs, the grape pickers who travel with the harvest. Some are older, some quite young, many have dreadlocks. Some are quite large and un-French looking, having come from eastern european countries for the work. They camp down by the river and eat and drink their lunches alongside whatever vines they are working that day. I understand that the standard pay is eighty euros a day and two liters of wine. Its pretty hard work, and I would imagine the wine doesn't get saved from day to day. They have a bit of a bad reputation for petty theft, but seem like a pretty decent bunch to me. Several of us were walking our dogs one day down by the river, and one of the dogs (not mine) ran up and peed on one of their daypacks, we were quite embarassed and apologetic, but they just thought it was funny.

I buy my wine in bulk (en vrac) in my own bottles from one of the local private domains whose vineyards and main operation are a couple of miles out of town, but who have a cave in town, actually an old chai, that they use as a salesroom. There are large wine tanks and the equipment for moving the wine from one vat to the next when it is first being processed. The equipment is fairly old, and I thought it was just being left in there for show, as it is their "storefront" in town, and in the summer season they sell a lot of wine to tourists. They bottle it, and also sell it in boxes -- it is AOC St. Chinian, very well respected wine. Wine in a box here is not what it is in the US. At any rate, one day during the height of the vedange I stopped to buy wine and the sales area was set up in the remise (barn) next door because they were using the old chai to process wine. I was quite surprised, as some of the equipment is around a hundred years old. Its a family operation, and the woman I usually deal with is the mother of the family, and I would guess in her late 70s, very nice.

I've mostly been getting reorganized since Pat left. I've moved from the apartment in Montmartre to one at the outer edge of the 20th arondissement, in an area known as "La Campagne de Paris" -- very interesting and much calmer than Montmartre. Montmartre area has a rich history, but it is absolutely over-run with tourists. Steady stream of them walking by my window reading guidebooks and snapping photos. I was right across from the Musee de Montmartre, so many people walked by on their way to the museum. The street is also part of several walking tours in various guidebooks. Read more about that in Pat's blog. It is reminiscent of some of the Provence villages I've visited which no longer have any businesses other than those serving tourists.

My buddy Chris is coming to visit after Christmas, and staying a month. We'll have a great time eating our way around Paris. Around the 20th of January we'll head back down to my little place in Roquebrun, and he'll return to Paris on the train to the airport. It snowed last Thursday, two or three inches, but it brought the traffic in Montmartre to a standstill. No cars, no buses, no taxis, just trucks that had work to do.

I had Thanksgiving dinner with my friends here, Ellen and Jean-Pierre, a lovely turkey with all the U.S. trimmings! Really enjoyed that. Also had a chance to spend an afternoon with my friend Marval, outside Paris. Please note the photo of my Paris christmas tree, purchased from the equivalent of a 99 cent store, also its trimmings and lights. Happy 2010 everyone!

Tour de France

I'm back in Roquebrun (with Pat) after a two week tour of Burgundy, Normandy and Brittany, and a few other spots, with Jessica, Rita and Pat. Jessica and Rita came in to the south via the Perpignan airport on Sept. 2, pat and I picked them up there and we spent the night and morning in Collioure. We visited Albi, north of Collioure, drove through parts of Dordogne and Quercy and went to an underground river, then to Rita's friends house in upper Burgundy. Lovely area, and Rita's friends are great people. Pat and I were in the village of Saint-Fargeau, and Rita and Jessica stayed in the farmhouse. We had great dinners in the big dining room in front of the huge fireplace, and drank lots of wine. Pat and I had planned to stay in Paris a few days, but because we were unsure of the dates when we left, we ended up not being able to find a reasonably priced hotel or apartment, and since I'm planning to spend up to 3 months in Paris later this fall, we left Rita and Jessica in Paris at Rita's friend's apartment in the heart of the Marais. Got hit by a Mercedes van while I was standing still in traffic on the Rue de Rivoli, forcing me to exit the car and pound on the side of his van and scream obscenities at him. Fortunately his van sustained more damage than my car, which only got a scratched plastic bumper, and I got his license number and photos of his van and will see if I have any recourse. Then ended up driving through the Etoile thanks to the GPS sending me the "fastest route" (never mind the 12 streets going into it and no lines painted). It was actually no problem at all, and I had driven through it once before. Its not as bad as its advertised to be. We then went on to Giverny for the night. We hadn't planned to see Monet's garden this trip, but when we left Paris and looked at the map, there it was very close by. I'd been there on my first trip to France in the 90's, but it was cold and rainy that day -- this time it was gorgeous, a warm sunny day and lots of things still in bloom. We went early in the morning, beating many of the other tourists. By the time we left there were gangs of roving Japanese people with cameras following people with numbered signs. The house is a treat also, lots of Japanese prints (much loved by Monet and the Impressionists). I've been there before, back in the 90's, but it was a cold, cloudy, drizzly day, so it was a pleasure to see it on a perfect one.

From there we went to Brittany and Normandy, staying the first night in Honfleur, which is a lovely and very old town on the Normandy coast. The sun was out, but it was somewhat windy, and got very chilly when the sun went down. There was a good, large Saturday street market. Then on to Bayeux, to see the tapestry of the same name. Its an embroidery of the Norman Conquest, and was great -- check it out on line. Next up Mont St. Michel, which is really about seeing it from a distance. We went into the village, but skipped the abbey as it would have been a long wait to get in, and one abbey is much like another. (abbey, blah blah blah; ancient towers, blah blah blah; medeival whatever, blah blah blah -- I'm getting very used to all of this amazingly old stuff I guess). It was cold and drizzly, and the town was reminiscent of Carcassonne, wall to wall tourists with nothing but souvenir shops and restaurants. Glad we saw it, but the best part was from a distance. Which is also kinda true of Carcassonne, an amazing and wonderful place, but its also best viewed from the distance, preferably lit up at night with all of its towers and great walls -- inside its way too many rubber swords and Carcassonne tea towels.

Last tourist stop was Carnac in Brittany, which is basically lots of stones planted in the ground around 5000 BC. I believe by the Druids. Its a UNESCO World Heritage Site, as is the tapestry and Mont St. Michel. Quite startling to see the stones -- some are upright stones (menhir) and others are groups of shorter stones in groups and rows (also menhirs) and some are on mounds (tumulus) and a few are two standing stones with one across the top, like a table (dolmen). There are hundreds or maybe thousands of them. They're just scattered all around the Carnac area, alongside the roads. No one knows what the purpose was. Nacho, however, had no problems determining a purpose. I fact he has saluted quite a few UN World Heritage Sites at this point. By this stage of the trip we were pretty tired of the rain, having suffered through a couple of days of it, so we planned to head for the chateaux of the Loire, which Pat hasn't seen. However, rain was forecast for there also, so it was skipped for now. So we headed back here to Roquebrun, planning to spend the night partway down, but ended up not being able to find a hotel with rooms available on the autoroute, so just drove on and got in about 2:00 a.m. Was warm and sunny yesterday, but there was a big thunderstorm last night and today was drizzly on and off. Much warmer however, and I'm glad to be back here.

Still Trying to Catch Up

Lets start out with a great French saying: When the frog gets angry, the pond doesn't care.

Tardy again on posting, but here it is, written during the first week of august. Remember this is the most important stuff in my life these days:

I finally found a Frenchy looking table and chairs for my terrasse. The current crop of patio furniture here in the south of france is teaky stuff, which is heavy, perishable, and frankly butt ugly. I've looked for vintage stuff, but don't seem to be in the right place at the right time. I got a new set, very cheap, which is quite charming -- and of course its chinese. Metal table and folding chairs with cutouts of an artsy leaf pattern. I have some actual vintage french bistro furniture back in the garage in San Diego. So what's fabulous is that I'm sitting outside on my terrace, with my views of the petit parc across the rue, and the hills rising behind Roquebrun, sipping my E1.40 litre AOC St. Chinian (bought en vrac - in bulk with my own bottles). And its absolutely still, except for an occasional person walking or possibly driving by. There is no ambient noise here, if one gets closer to the river, you can hear it, but I can't up here. It's almost 10 pm, and not fully dark, and refreshingly cool. I'm actually wearing a shirt with sleeves. It's been mostly hot for the month of July, sleeveless clothing morning and night, and no blankets on the bed. This is a pleasant break, as the rest of August will undoubtedly be very, very hot.

My only real complaint about France at this point involves technology and paperwork. I currently have no internet unless I hike up to the park near where I used to live, set up on a picnic table or a rock wall, and poach the internet from my old house. That's on a good day. Sometimes it fades in and out, and sometimes it isn't there at all. And sometimes I have to sit on a rock step halfway down the path. I can't get my own internet without a french bank account. French bank accounts are not handed out like Halloween candy. You need quite a bit of paperwork, and you also need to find someone at the bank who isn't on vacation. I want to use the Banque Postal, a service of the french postal service, as there are not a bunch of hidden and extra charges to deal with, like making you take their debit card, and charging you E7 per month for the privilege. Unfortunately, Martine, the postmistress, is "en vacance" until the middle of August, and no one else in Roquebrun can do this for me. Plus it requires that I call her when she returns, and make an appointment for the bank account extravaganza. I could try to go to a nearby town, like Beziers or Saint-Chinian, and do it there, but first I would have to make an appointment. If I got there, and some piece of paper was missing, I would have to make another appointment to bring it in. I think Martine will be helpful, as I am a resident here. Interestingly, my passport is not the most important item to present, nor is my long stay visa. It is my lease with Alain, and his identity card and *utility bill* -- yess, you heard right, utility bill. This is the coin of the realm in france -- no utility bill, nothing gets done. Its your proof that you actually live somewhere. Since Alain is paying the utilities, and I am reimbursing him, I have to present not only my lease, my passport, my visa, but also his identity card and his utility bill!! This is so bizarre. The same goes for phone, internet, and anything else that requires a monthly payment. I have no idea what happens to people who can't provide these things. They are probably pooping into a can and cooking on a wood fire. Anyway, I look forward to having my account at the Banque Postal, as then the entire world of technology here in France will open to me, and I will no longer have to sit at a picnic table squinting into my laptop screen trying to communicate with my nearest and dearest.

Pat arrives August 19, I can't wait!! I've made some friends here, but haven't had a visitor from San Diego for months. Margaret (bless her adventurous heart) was here shortly after I arrived, then my friends from Paris (Ellen and Jean-Pierre), then my family from Oregon, all in quick succession. I've really enjoyed my new friends here, but it will be fantastic to have Pat as my victim for 3 months. And a couple of weeks after she arrives, Jessica and Rita will be here, and I'm dying to see them also. We are doing a tour de France, Burgundy, and Paris. Pat and I will return to Roquebrun for the vendange. I want to help a friend (actually a couple of friends) pick grapes, just for entertainment, and to be here for the event. Its a very busy time, foreign workers, tractors with trailers full of grapes blocking the roads, everyone in work/party mode. It should be very interesting. Then my current plan is to return to Paris when the vendange is over, and stay through the end of the year. Keeping my place here, of course, as I've rented it through April. I will look at apartments in Paris, and see whether I think I want to own a place there. I want to be everywhere at once, it seems. "Life is too short" is one of the most understated expressions in the vocubalary. I can imagine many more years (probably many more than I have available) exploring France, Paris, Eurpoe, and the rest of the world, plus living in San Diego. How will I manage to do all of this at once?

This is truly a magical place -- for those of us that are new here -- but I wonder how magical it seems to people like my landlord, Alain, who was born here? This is just basically his life, where he lives -- he might think San Diego is truly magical .... I met his older sister the other day, and had one of my conversations in French where I understand a half to a third of what's going on. However, I did glean that she worked most of her life in Paris, and has retired here in the family home, probably was her parents and grandparents. Its a turn of the century "maison de vigneronne" -- a grape grower's house -- on the main road through the village, with a view of the vineyards to the rear and a big terrasse -- and she and I talked about her travels to Italy (seven times), including Venice, Florence, Rome .... and I'm struck by the fact that she isn't some tiny elderly woman who has never seen anything, she's a tiny elderly woman who has lived in Paris, visited Venice .... you get the idea. On the one hand, these villages seem simple and appear to be rooted in another time, but in fact they are not. Many of the people have great experience of the world, and some, of course, do not. Like the elderly man who died recently -- his claim to fame is that he fed feral cats. He had a stroke in his house, and the firemen had to break in and remove him. He died in hospital a couple of weeks later. He was living in a house with a gorgeous view of the river, with no bathroom. He was using the public toilets near his house, and I don't want to think about his bathing arrangements, if any. The rumor is that the pompiers had to wear some kind of masks in there.

Have I blogged about the pompiers (the fire and emergency people) and the way they are called into town to deal with emergencies and fires? There is a klaxon style horn on top of the town hall, which sounds like a WW2 air raid siren. It can be heard for some distance, and the pompiers who are either sitting in the cafe, home eating lunch, working in their vines, cheating on their spouses, etc., hear it, get on their tractors or in their cars, and come into town to deal with the problem. Don't be bleeding heavily, you could be in for a long wait. Just like in the US, they are all good looking -- and many of them are female. There are no high rise buildings here, so a prospective pompier doesn't have to carry a 250 pound person down a ladder, thus making it more ressonable for women to be able to pass the physical test. A week or so ago I was taking a short cut single lane road through the vines, and encountered a rather bad head on collision. I've wondered whether this happens on these narrow roads, and apparently it does. There were the two cars, both old (no airbags), which had sustained some serious damage. One of the drivers was still trapped in his car. There were also two other cars that had come from opposite directions and encountered the accident. I, and the person who was behind me, were not approached to assist, so I assume that cell phones had been used to call for help. I had to back up for several hundred feet to turn around, and on my way back I didn't see an emergency vehicle. I wonder how long it took to get someone there, and then how much longer to a real hospital. The nearest one is in Beziers, which is about 20 minutes from that particular spot. I decided to drive more slowly on that road and others like it.

There are several "shops" that appear in front of people's houses during this time of the year. They are people who have gardens outside the village, and who sell their produce from their homes during the season. I have had peaches that are beyond description. They are small, but intense in flavor. Never have I had peaches with this taste in the US -- the steriodal peaches we get, watery and weak in flavor, seem like cartoons in comparison. They are both white and yellow, and my US experience of white peaches is that they are tasteless and have a poor texture. These are wonderful. I wish I could find less common and trite words to describe them. During cherry season the same thing happened. I've known for years that you don't judge produce by how it looks -- but I've had this reinforced during my several visits to France. I don't doubt that its the same in many other parts of Europe.

I feel like I have to find something to complain about besides the technology stuff. How about boredom? I'm not sure I could live here year round. There isn't much to do, unless you have a house to fix up, or a vineyard to maintain. You get up. You have coffee and bread, maybe some of the yogurt you made. You take your dogs for their morning walk through the vineyard at the corner. You go to the village and buy some bread and vegetables. If you're feeling particularly social, you stop in the cafe/bar and have a coffee. You walk home. You water your outside potted plants. You wash your dishes and straighten up the house. Maybe clean or do some laundry. If you don't have a garden, you don't have that to occupy your time. You read. You maybe go across the road and tidy up the public garden. You eat lunch, and take the dogs out again. You take a nap. OK, the day is progressing, and maybe you have plans with a friend to do something. You play with the internet if you are fortunate enough to have a connection. This is now approaching a really tough time of the day.. Walk the dogs again? Eat some more? Another nap? Maybe take your recycling to the public bins! Wash your car at the public hose place by the river!! Yes!! And maybe a late afternoon boulangerie run. And before long it will be time to cook dinner. Slowly. And then read, or try to watch french TV ..... You get the picture? Its wonderful to have lots of time to yourself, but filling it up can be a serious task. And one thinks about getting some kind of satellite TV that will have American things, and subscribing to dvd services ..... So perhaps living here is not a year-round solution. Perhaps Paris for part of the year, where there is always action and excitement, and something you haven't seen yet. Food for thought ...

This batch of photos are of the walk I take thru the vines in the morning, then around past the cemetery and the big wine co-op. The stop sign is pretty amusing. Someone hit it and knocked it into the concrete utility pole behind it, so it has just been bungeed onto the post and left. Also, if I didn't post it before, one of the gardens down by the river which are part of the property of a house in a different location. The house with the striped awning is where I get my produce, they grow it and sell it from their house.