Off we start with buoyant heart (or Do the French go Topless at the Beach?)

We were invited to hike Les Calanques with B&A - avid hikers, who have a holiday house in the next town.  From  Squidoo.com I learned:  "The blue waters of the Mediterranean run along the entire southern boundary of Provence, and include Les Calanques, a spectacular range of calcareous rocks almost like small fjords, just east of Marseille - and containing France's largest cliff (406m) at Cap Canaille."

B&A picked us up at 9am.  We were all in good spirits, checking to make sure everyone had brought what they needed- hat, bathing suits, sunblock, clean clothes (we were going to stop in Aix-en-Provence on our way home for dinner), picnic lunch, water.  Check, check, check.

The trails to Les Calanques are accessed from a small town, Cassis, which is about an hour's drive directly south to the coast.  We found a good parking spot.  Blue skies.

There is rarely a time that I start out on a trip that I don't sing (usually to myself, although Jeff and Bradford would certainly recognize it) a little ditty that my mother always sang in similar circumstances- "And off we start with buoyant heart and never a thought or care".  I sang silently.

We went down a hill, from where we parked, on a road for a short bit to the start of the trail and then down another bit and came to a beautiful cove with blue green water.  There were a few people for whom this was the end of the trail.  They were going to stay here, sunbathe, picnic, swim. We started the next climb.  We walked at a comfortable pace arriving at the top of the hill, winded, warmed.  I was thinking "what are we going to do now that we have reached the top?"  I had only to walk 20 steps more to see that the top was indeed the top, but we needed to go down the other side to get to the valley that led out to the next cove where we would stop for lunch.

I like to believe that I am a pretty good hiker. Two secrets:  I am afraid of steep drops.  My feet ache when I get close to an edge of any significant height.  I am also, I discovered, very conditioned to think about "up" then "down" constitutes a hike.  I play out my energy based on this conditioning.  

The descent was STEEP and narrow with the drop off to the left.  The larger rocks were worn smooth from millions of hikers, and the rest were small pebbles.  There were many spots where I needed to put my hands down and lower myself over an edge or a drop.  There was no way that I could step down without holding on.  For the first half of the descent I could only look at my feet.  The drop off was precipitous.  Jeff kept waiting for me, and offering his hand, but my pride wouldn't let me take it, nor look him in the eye.  The second half of the descent wasn't bad since there were no drop offs, just the path straight down.  We got to the valley floor and walked through wonderful rock formations and trees to our destination.

Here it is.  I always imagine that what I feel arriving at a place with spectacular scenery is what explorers or the Pilgrims must have felt.

If I thought that climbing down that steep descent was the toughest thing of the day, I had another thing coming.  I had to figure out how to put on my bathing suit while standing on the beach surrounded by people!  I know the burning question in readers' minds is "Is it true that the French sunbathe topless?".  I am relieved to tell you that they do not.  At least not at this beach.  Well I wiggled and giggled and hopped and dropped until I had gotten out of my clothes and into my bathing suit.

Proof is in the picture- there are my clothes drying on the beach.








A swim in the frigid waters, a baguette with pate and tomatoes, and a little sunning was enough to recharge our batteries and start back.

We decided to walk back up the steep hill that we descended.  Going up was nothing like coming down.  We were up in two shakes of a lamb's tail.  We decided to explore the top of the craggy peninsula.  We walked up inclines, down inclines, looked over the edges (as close as I could get anyway).  Here is one of the prettiest views I could get that shows the fjord-like characteristics of Les Calanques.  We had had lunch at the water's edge, and had now climbed to the top for this view: 

In spite of the spectacular views, my energy was waning.  I needed to know "how much longer?" in order to set myself mentally.  I remembered those long car rides as a kid where we all whined "Are we there yet??".  This wasn't dissimilar to the conversation I was having in my head.  But I couldn't bring myself to ask.  Up hills, down hills, around the bends, up another hill, down another.  We kept plodding on. I was tired.  It is hard to keep going when you don't know how much further you have to go.  We finally started down the last descent which actually had two more small ascents.

Getting back to the car felt great!


I had one more challenge for the day.  We drove into the local town, Cassis, to have a look around.  B&A showed us the main waterfront that was very pictoresque.  We had a drink.  When we got back to the parking garage, it was decided to change our clothes there in case we couldn't find anyplace to change in Aix-en-Provence. So, while snapping at Jeff that he didn't have to worry since he wasn't baring anything, I hid between cars and stripped off the day's hiking clothes and put on clean clothes for dinner. 


B&A philosophized throughout the day how good it was for a person to reach beyond their known capabilities.  Indeed!  I have added another thing to my list of known capabilities- changing clothes on the beach and in parking garages!!  Thanks, A!!


All under Blue skies!

Report from the Rooftop

My dear old friend JAdR visited us this weekend!  What a sport to come all the way from Holland!  (I have yet to figure out if the country is called Holland or if it is called The Netherlands?)  I haven't seen him in 10 years when he visited us in Arlington!

JAdR seemed to like the rooftop terrace as much as we do!  He is an avid birder and brought his super-duper Leica binoculars with him.  (on the right, below)

From the rooftop, he was able to identify the birds that have fascinated us since we came here.  There are swifts that circle and do aerobatics at lunch hour and early evening, until sunset.  JAdR told us that they winter in Africa, mate "on the wing", and are aloft 80% of their lives.  Phew!

He also identified white something'ed swallows (a.k.a. Martins).  We spotted one nesting spot today- mud pockets up under the eaves of the terra cotta tiles of the house near the bakery.

JAd R also identified the nightingale singing in the brush that boarders the stream that runs through the valley.   And domesticated pigeons.  And some sort of dove that sounds almost exactly like a mourning dove.  And titmouse.

JAdR also was the one to spot the wild boars running along a path that borders the vineyards in the valley.  He thinks they were a mother, 4 babies (what do you call a baby boar?), with the father.  Seems as though something startled them since they are not usually on the run during the day.  Remember the man I told you about who put corn up near the hiking trail for the boars so they wouldn't come down to his fields?  Well guess whose fields they were running along?  We need to warn GT that they are ignoring his corn.  The horse in the next field was very alert as the boars made their way away from some danger.  It just stood there with its ears perked up and the tail up high.

Just after dusk last night, JAdR and I were watching the swifts do their tricks when we realized that bats were streaming out from under the roof tiles of the house behind ours.  Like planes taking off from an aircraft carrier, one by one they emerged from each "chute" of tiles and flew off into the deepening night.  Wow!  Between the swifts and the bats, bugs do not have a chance in this area!

Now if you thought it was dangerous in the air, you-know-who also identified the bullfrogs in the local chateau's gardens.  What a ruckus they were making!!  (not clear who I am referring to, is it??)  At this point in the year, there can't be many bugs left!

So while it may seem from my posts that all we are doing is sitting on the terrace, eating local olives and drinking pastis, we are also learning about the local animals that happen to cross our paths...Jeff is up there now, trying to get some pics and videos.  Be sure to watch his site for his successes!

as reported from the rooftop, under Blue Skies! 

Thanks, JAdR.  We loved having you visit!!

Dear Carlos,

Did you see my brother-in-law's comment the other day on my post?  If you missed it, here it is again.  I am paraphrasing- "I don't need to hear about flowers and food...tell us about the electric atmosphere around the soccer match between Lyon and Bayern."

I love my brother-in-law!  He has been with our crazy family for more than 20 years!  and is as enthusiastic about family connections today as he was when they were first engaged- that is to say, VERY enthusiastic!  Really!  and he is a die hard, lifelong soccer fan. 

The last World Cup he got up in the middle of the night to watch the games live!  Shouting "Gooooooooooaaaaaalllll" when his team scored.  No matter that the rest of the house and the neighbors were asleep.  When another one of our siblings and her family moved to England for a couple of years and became avid soccer fans, my brother-in-law finally had someone to talk to about soccer!

This posting is really a response to his request:

Dear Carlos,
Surely you know that neither Jeff nor I have a clue about soccer...but, not wanting to disappoint you on your one request...

When I saw your comment, I felt that I should at least figure out what it meant!  I did a google search that told me that Lyon and Bayern were soccer teams.  I followed a few more links and found out that there was a semi-finals match on Wednesday night at 8:45pm.  Too bad we don't have a television.

Jeff  had seen men lined up in the local Bar du Sports watching something on TV a different night.  Possibilities.  On Wednesday morning, I stopped in the bar and asked if they would be open and showing the match that night.  "If there are people here watching, we will be open."  Didn't sound like electric enthusiasm to me.  It certainly wasn't contagious.

Later that afternoon I asked Jeff if he was up for going to watch the match.  I preferred having Jeff's company to sit in the bar while I was watching the soccer match and drinking beer.  He did not give off electric enthusiasm.  But, Dear Carlos, it was Jeff who said at 8:45pm that night, "Let's go see if the bar is open."

The bar owner, his wife and son were sitting outside having their dinner when we arrived.  They said they were closing soon, but what did we want.  "We'd like to have a beer and watch the soccer match."  They compromised and said they would stay open until half-time for us.  Not exactly electric enthusiasm on their part, nor anyone else's in the town given that we were the only ones there!  The bar owner chatted a bit with us during the game, asking who we wanted to win.  Of course we said Lyon (the French team).  He seemed pleased.  But then we blew our cover when we asked if the fans waving the red and white flags were from Lyon.  We had a 50/50 chance of guessing correctly.  We guessed incorrectly.  Opening the ignorance wound further, we asked if these were the semi-finals for the World Cup.  "Uhhh, non..."  These were the semi-finals for the European league, nothing to do with the World Cup.

I think you are getting the picture...we were not good lightening rods for the electricity.  Not only are we ignorant of the game, the teams, the global interest, but we are in a town where people must watch the games at home instead of the local Bar du Sports.

We guzzled the last of our beer as the whistle blew for half-time. The bar owner turned off the lights (the only electricity we could report experiencing) and we went home.  I don't know who won the game and who will advance in the Europa finals, but I do know that the team from Lyon is blue and the team from Bayern (which is Bavaria) is red.

In the dark, but under Blue Skies!

A Mental Exercise- Imagine that!

Close your eyes. Picture you are with one of your favorite people in the world...Now, picture spending 24 hours a day with that person for several months on end.

Imagine that for several of those months, you don't communicate with anyone else except to smile and send emails.  Sometimes, you can manage a few words with strangers to get the food you want.

It varies which of you can speak the local language, but imagine that only one of you understands the local language at any given time.  That person has to translate the menus, the road signs, the price of things, the labels in the stores, the hotel reception desks' questions, find the laundromat.  As a result, imagine that you never leave each others' side.

Imagine how happy you would be for the company of others...not instead of, but in addition to, your favorite person.

Now, introduce some wonderful people into the picture...

One lady is nearly your mother's age, speaks your language, knows the strange land, and is willing to drive you places you can't easily get without a car, invites you to a garden party, and introduces you to more people who speak your language .  She answers many questions about the local culture.  Imagine that!

Another is a couple from another foreign land, but they speak your language, like to do some of the things you like to do- take pictures, hike, eat- and are willing to invite you to do those things in their car. Imagine that!

You are hiking through some strange lands and someone in a green wool shirt from a US Army Surplus Store, old enough to be your father, stops to help you interpret your walking map.  Only one of you understands what he is saying (or at least most of it).  He tells you all about the wild boars in the woods, you find out that he has visited more places in the US than you have, his wife was a teacher and he knows the Englishman who has rented you your house.  You thank him profusely after the 30 min break from your walk.  Then you are walking the next night and you see the nice man again.  This time you get his name, he invites you to stop anytime before 7pm for an aperitif.  You offer to invite him for dinner.  Imagine that!

You need some herbs to make a dessert.  You noticed a wonderful plant near your house.  When you have all the ingredients assembled, you walk down the alley with scissors in hand only to find that the plant that you want for your dessert has been pruned to nearly nothing, but there is a bag full of the clippings.  Two twenty-somethings are leaning against a car.  You ask in the best version of the language you can, if you can take some.  They think you are crazy, you think you are lucky and promise to bring some of the dessert for them to try.  Imagine that!

You are expecting the couple from a foreign land for lunch.  The water is suddenly cut off.  In the best version of the foreign language, you go into the alley and ask what has happened.  Women pop their heads out of upper story windows to say that they do not have any water either.  You take a pitcher to the baker hoping to buy bread and ask for a jug of water.  One of the twenty-somethings who works at the bakery gives you a new bottle of water instead.  Imagine that!

and after being off for nearly 3 hours, the water comes back 30 min. before the couple arrives!! Imagine that!

You bring some of the dessert to the bakery to say thanks, and because you think they have never tasted polenta cake with lemon and rosemary topped with raspberry coulis.  The two twenty-somethings happily accept the plate.  They think it tastes "super!"  They are happy.  Imagine that!

Blue Skies!  Imagine that!   (and then talk to someone...!)

All the details I never told my mother...

I'm making up for it in this one post!

This posting is for my mother, and anyone else who likes "all the details" as much as she does (at least she says she likes the details, and she patiently listens to them!!)

Ansouis is a small village in Provence, in the Luberon Forest.  Here is a small map, because my brother-in-law asked for more maps...

Agrandir le plan

Here are some pics of our temporary home.   Our house is about 2/3 of the way to the chateau at the top.  If you squint, you can see it...

The first floor has a combined living/dining area, with a great fireplace, and a nice big eat in kitchen. The kitchen has big windows that open to the street, narrow as it is. We usually eat breakfast in the kitchen and dinner in the living area or on the terrace. At night, Jeff cooks dinner and I build a fire (it's cold!). We have to go outside to get to the "cave" where the firewood is. It is a wonderful space under the house with vaulted ceilings, but you have to access it through a "hobbit door" which is hard when carrying a basket full of wood!

Up the steep stairs on the right to the second floor ... a nice big office space with a balcony looking down into the dining area. This also works well as a laundry chute! Jeff and I work at the desks and practice yoga in here- the only space big enough for the both of us, and that has carpeted floors. The rest of the house has tiled floors which are cold this time of year. The second floor also has a guest bedroom in it. So far unused (We missed you EGFT and RBT), but JAdR will be visiting us next weekend, if the planes fly from Eindhoven. Yahoo!

Up the steeper stairs to the third floor which we believe must be a converted attic. The first and second floors have ~17ft ceilings, whereas the third floor is so low that there is only a narrow stretch of the bedroom where we can stand up to our full height. We have to remember to stay bent over or risk bumping our heads on the exposed beams. We have forgotten many times, particularly in the middle of the night! The only way that Jeff can stand up to his full height in the bathroom is to put his head through the skylight! Also on the third floor is the BEST part of the house- the terrace. The view is of the verdant valley and opposite hills, and the afternoon light and sunsets are unforgettable

There is a washing machine in the kitchen. We have to carry the clothes (in the wonderful market baskets!) to the third floor terrace where we have opened the drying racks. We need to plan our laundry according to the weather. I don't think many people have dryers. Everyone has some sort of rack they can attach to their upstairs windows and hang their laundry from there to dry.

The set of directions that came with our rented house warned us to lock the front door even if we were home; and if we were going out, we should lock the front door, shutter the door and lock BOTH locks on the shutter.  If we didn't, the insurance policy would not cover any damage.  When we go for a walk at night, all the houses, and the 4 businesses in the village are tightly shuttered (windows AND doors!), and the narrow streets and stair cases are so brightly lit you can barely see the stars.  Maybe that is why people shutter their windows- to block out the light from the street lamps!  There isn't a local police force.  I don't know where the closest one is, but today we noticed a sign at the outskirts of town that said the town is under video surveillance.

The house is nicely appointed!  It has a wonderful book collection, a nice stereo that is easily heard throughout the house, wifi, a printer, comfortable chairs and couches to enjoy every area and a kitchen and spice rack that are keeping Jeff happy!  We are really lucky, and are appreciating every minute!! 

Blue skies!

If it is Tuesday, This Must Be Ansouis

Ansouis, France.  It is one of the prettiest towns in France, so says the sign at the entrance to the village.  Population 1100. I don't know where they all are, but the pamphlet from the local tourist office has this statistic.

We are getting into the swing of life here, creating our own rhythm that is not discordant with the local life.  It took us a few tries...

The day we needed to go to the post office we realized that is isn't open on Wed. morning.  We went back in the afternoon only to discover that while it opened at 2pm. it closed at 4pm.  We arrived at 4:10.  Otherwise it is open from 10-12, 2-4:30.  M, T, Th, Fr.

The Tabac, where we needed to buy a phone card since the public telephones don't take coins and our cell phones are too expensive to use here, isn't open at all on Thurs, but is open the other days with a mid-day closure from 12:00-4:00.  It sells, besides tobacco products and telephone cards, birthday cards, the International Herald Tribune for $5, maps of walking paths and road maps of France, coffee table books of the area, magazines and postcards.

The bakery (the most important of all!!!), opens early in the morning, takes the customary mid-day break and then opens again from 4:00-7:00- unless she runs out of bread in which case she closes.  And she is closed on Sunday afternoons after 12:30.  She sells machine made baguettes, hand made baguettes, artisinal baguettes, cookies and fruit tarts.  She also sells bottles of wine and a coin operated espresso machine!

The local grocery store is open every day now that it is April and closes for the mid-day break. In addition to what you would expect in a "convenient store" she sells wines from the local chateau and locally produced honey with lavendar, and artisinal potato chips which are delicious.


The fishmonger comes to Ansouis on Thurs mornings in the main parking area, except if it is the scholastic vacation (which it is for the first two weeks of April in this region).  The local market for other things is on Sunday mornings on the other side of the village.  The one in Cucuron is on Tues.  In Pertuis on Friday.  In Lourmarin on Friday.  and the one I want to go to for its antiques and brick a brack is on Saturday in Apt. At the market, everyone brings their own baskets for their purchases.  The vendors proceed to put each of your purchases into a plastic bag.  We thought we were being environmentally friendly by carrying a basket.  We have more plastic bags than we know what to do with.  We will need to start bringing the plastic bags in our wicker baskets.

The local equivalent of Costco is in Pertuis- Hyper U (pronouced "eeper oe" ("oe" as in shoe)).  It sells groceries.  Unlike the local markets, it has no bags for your groceries except in the produce area where you weigh, bag and put a price tag on your own produce according to either the picture on the scale or the number on the bins next to the price.  And you only do this if it is priced by the kilo.  If it is priced by the piece you don't need to do anything.  You bag your own groceries at the checkout.  If you want a cart, you need to put a 1 euro piece in the linked carts.  The coin will disconnect the cart.  When you put your cart back, and link it again to the carts, the coin is released.  At Hyper U, you can also buy patio furniture, rent a car or van, buy a bicycle, have your clothes dry cleaned, book a vacation or have "Flunch".  Getting to Hyper U is a challenge for us since the bus schedule to this stop is still being studied.

The bus from here to Pertuis leaves at 6:30am and 7:30 am, except you have to call a day in advance to reserve it since it is only "on demand".  And you can not call during mid-day break hours.  When you call, they ask what is the purpose of your "trip" and age group you are in.  There is a bus to Pertuis on Friday at 9:50 (market day in Pertuis) and you do not need to reserve in advance.  The return buses don't need to be reserved, and they are at 6pm and 7pm, except on market day there is one at 12:00.  If is is Wed or Sat, there is a bus at 12:50 back to Ansouis.  If the bus is coming from Pertuis it drops you off on the east side of town.  If you are going to Pertuis it picks you up on the west. Most bus connections happen in Pertuis.  Fare for the bus for the 10 min ride between Ansouis and Pertuis is 1.5 euros.  The fare for the 45 min ride from Aix-en-Provence to Pertuis is 1 euro.

Trash day is Monday.  Since the streets of the village are so narrow, there isn't any pick up service at your door, so you have to carry your trash to the big green dumpsters at the outskirts of the village.  So what day does it matter what day trash pick up is for those in the village?  There are recycling bins at the outskirts, too.  Glass, newspapers/mail, packaging and cartons.  It has to be brought to the bins.  No door pick up.

The cleaning lady comes on Tuesday morning at 9am, unless she has an appointment elsewhere.  She told me that the local "coiffeure" is open on Thursday and Friday and I would need an appointment unless she was available at that moment and then I wouldn't need one! After getting dropped on the east side of town coming back from the market in Pertuis on Friday, I stopped to make an appointment to get my hair cut.  She said she could offer an appointment on Tuesday morning.

Many stores are closed on Mondays, but open on Sunday mornings.

We can get a coffee in a bar and bars open early and some close late (Is there a "match" on?  Yes?  they are open late).  You eat lunch between 12:00-1:30.  If you are eating out you can eat at a bar or a restaurant.  You can order from a "menu" or "a la carte".  Dinner is after 7:30pm in a restaurant but not after  ~9pm depending on the restaurant.  It is common to "gouter" (snack) around 4pm with a coffee, or a beer at a bar, sitting outside if weather permits or if you are a smoker.  Children often get an ice cream or pain au chocolat at this time.

So, we are now able to get to the post office when it is open, to the markets before they close, the bakers before she runs out of bread and not seem odd by arriving at the bar at the wrong time for a drink or a meal.  And, we are drinking rose with our lunch and making sure that we are taking a midday break, or siesta, when everyone else does!  We are enjoying this rhythm of life...now that we have figured it out!

Blue skies!

Moo Hoo--No More Dairy

A few months ago I found a new doctor.  Dr. Jeanne Hubbuch.  Refreshingly thorough, confidently balanced between medical worlds- Western, Eastern, homeopathic- with time to understand the whole me, not just the one or two symptoms I arrived with. 

I walked away with an assignment- NO DAIRY FOR ONE WEEK.  How would I survive?  What would I eat?  My life is built on dairy!  No dairy products from cows, goats, sheep...nothing!

Let me show you a list of some of my favorite foods so you have a sense of the impact this experiment would have on my life:

Milk, cheese from Vermont, yogurt, cheese from Wisconsin, cottage cheese, cheese from Spain, coffee ice cream, cheese from Italy, butter, cheese from France, Kahlua cheesecake from the Nuns of New Skete, cheese from the UK, half and half in my coffee, cheese from mid-state MA, labne, creme fraiche, cheese, sour cream and lastly, CHEESE!

Being the good patient that I am (huh!), I began.  I was willing to try giving up dairy, but not the foods I associated with dairy.  I needed something for my coffee.  Something for my cereal.  Something for sandwiches.  I experimented with the myriad of non-dairy drinks and found likable substitutes:  Unsweetened vanilla soy milk was best for my coffee.  Almond milk was best in my cereal.  Soy cheese that was "cheddar flavored" worked in my sandwiches so long as there was something else between the bread.  I learned to eat toast and bread without butter.  Jeff's bread was best without butter anyway!

Unfortunately, after one week, I felt the positive effects of not having dairy!  How could I justify eating dairy if I felt better not having it?  Feeling more than a little self-pity, I stopped eating dairy.

And then we left for Europe!  How could I NOT eat dairy?  It is served 3 times a day!  In France it is a course unto itself!  Italians put it in and on everything!  I ate dairy while we were on the road- it just wasn't possible to avoid it without starving.  Now we are settled and mainly cooking for ourselves, I have gone back into avoiding it.  No one will ever know how hard it was to pass the cheese plate at a dinner party last weekend!!  Four deliciously aged, perfectly cut, beautiful cheeses passed through my hands and I didn't take any.  The conversation stopped momentarily. I gave no explanation, they asked no questions.

You should have seen the face of the lady at the cheese counter when I asked if she had any soy cheese.  She stared at me for a long moment, then said that there is no such thing!  (I am sure it was mentioned at her dinner table that evening!)  We found a health food store in Aix-en-Provence.  They had non-dairy "cheese".  It was made primarily from potatoes.  It was awful!

So while I may never fully avoid dairy (Jeff made squash polenta with Brebis blue cheese and sauteed spinach last night that I could not resist), I will continue to make an effort to avoid it.  I may even stop whining about it one day!

Until then, I will try to find other things to enjoy eating.  There are worse tasks in this world!  I bought apricot sorbet last week.  Jeff said that the ice cream maker at home can make sorbet.  I have seen some sorbet recipes that I would like to try.  Anyone have any suggestions?

Blue skies!

A Boxwood by Any Other Name

When I was young, I spent a few summers at my grandmother's in Philly's suburbs.  She had a pretty garden hedged in by boxwoods just outside the aptly named Garden Room.  There isn't a time that I smell boxwoods that I don't think of Nana and the hot, humid summers of Philly.


 Boxwoods are slow-growing, evergreen shrubs that need some shade and warm weather to be happy.



In my former home, I had planted 2 boxwoods, one near the front corner of the front porch and the other at the opposite end of the porch.  The one at the opposite end was in the direct path of poorly thrown basketballs, and boys chasing them.  Runaway skateboards found there home in it.  Many a toddler held on to it looking for Easter eggs.  It's shape suffered but not it's roots.  After 10+ years, I transplanted it to a more restful spot, still by the front porch.  I was rewarded!  It grew and regained its former shape.  Humid, summer nights I could smell the boxwood as I sat on the front porch, or as I walked up the sidewalk after a warm rain.

My mother taught me that I could cut the evergreen leaves to bring inside during the winters and add to flower arrangements throughout the year.  I plan to plant several boxwoods in the new house's yard when we get home.

If you click on the link to my favorite misplaced Yankee (side panel), in her March posting, you'll see that she has boxwoods in her front yard.  The connection is not a coincidence.

Today Jeff and I hiked in the Petit Luberon.  The trail was still damp with yesterday's rain and last night's dew.  I took a deep breath and smelled boxwoods.  Aromatherapy for me!

Is there any surprise that the universe sent me a wonderful man to love whose last name, translated from German into English, is "boxwood"??????????


Blue skies!

Excuse Me if I Crushed Your Crops

It was an exciting event!  We were invited for dinner by an acquaintance of Jeff's!

They live in the next village- about 3 miles away.  We had returned our rental car 3 days prior and had told them we would walk to their house.  We had been wanting to try to find some of the walking paths and back roads, and this seemed like a reasonable distance, and there was a promise of a ride home!

We set out at 6pm, padding the time we thought we needed so that we wouldn't arrive late.  The afternoon light promised to give us a nice show.  We had promised to be at the village center at 7:30.

We walked down the steep stairs to pick up the road to Cucuron.  It is a narrow road with some gated newer homes. 

We walked on.  Fewer homes, but bigger fields of vines, cherry trees and emerald green.  We came to a fork.  To the right was a road that was not as well paved, to the left a better paved road.  We were certain that we had driven past this fork before and that we had taken the road to the left. 

We walked on.  Another fork.  We took a guess that the road behind the barn was the right one.  There was a man in the back of the barn.  He looked uneasy when I approached the half opened door to ask if we were on the road to Curcuron.  He didn't move any closer to answer, but said yes, we should go straight and when we came to an intersection we could go either way, it didn't matter.  I hoped I had understood his Provencal accent correctly.

We walked on.  We waved to a farmer who was plowing his field.  We talked to the dogs that barked at us.  I had to make a pitstop in a stand of pine trees.  We came to another intersection.  The farmer has said we could go either way.  So we turned to the right since it seemed to head in a more direct path.

We walked on.  The road suddenly took a sharp turn AWAY from where we wanted to go.  We didn't trust our instincts, my understanding of Provencal French, nor the sun to stay up long enough for us to get lost in daylight, so we decided to turn left onto a cartpath which lead into a field.

We walked on.  Through the fields, smugly we walked.  We could see the village getting closer and it was straight ahead.  Wasn't this quaint.  Weren't we clever to have taken this path!  What a nice babbling brook full of the rain from a day earlier.  The cartpath meandered through vineyards, we crossed the brook via an old stone bridge.  The setting sun was making great colors of the village where we were heading.

We walked on. We rounded a curve and the mud starting getting a bit thicker in the cartpath tracks.  The grass was taller and still wet.  We came to a dead end.  We couldn't head in the right direction- the path ended, the stream was to our left and we needed to head left, there wasn't a bridge.  If we went all the way back we would not make it before sunset.  The path had ended at someone's field that had been planted with some sort of wheat (we think it was wheat) in very neat narrowly spaced rows.  On the far side of the field there was a house.  It must have a driveway to a main road.  We decided to head for the house, even if it meant stepping on the 3" sprouts.

We walked on.  As we approached the house, I began to fear they might have dogs.  Maybe no one was home.  Maybe they didn't take kindly to tourists tromping on their fields.  Maybe they felt the need to protect themselves...I saw a young man round the corner of the house and waved, hoping he would see this as both a friendly gesture and one indicating that we were lost.  As we got closer, I noticed a man sitting on a bench on the edge of the field, which was also the edge of his yard, reading a book.  I called out "Bonsoir monsieur!"  He jumped off the bench looking for wherever the sound might have been coming from. 

At first, with my clumsy French, I tried to explain that we were on our way to Curcuron to have dinner with friends.  I realized how crazy that sounded since we had just appeared out of his fields!  But I kept talking trying to explain that we had taken the wrong road and couldn't get around the stream to get to the road.  He seemed disbelieving at first and I thought he was going to send us back the way we'd come!  Something seemed to soften and then he was laughing along with us (more likely laughing at us!).  He walked us around to the front of his house where another cartpath started.  Pointed the way through an orchard of cherry trees and assured us that we couldn't get lost if we stayed on the path.  He was right.  We arrived at the village center with 10 minutes to spare!  At bit weary, and happy to have made it!

I would like to thank that man for his help and kindness.  There is no way I could find my way back to his house!

But for the kindness of strangers...

Blue skies!

Blame my mother

Oh no!  The sun is back after two days of cold rain.  Why "oh no"?  Because I grew up hearing "it is nice outside, what are you doing inside?"  For those rainy days I had no problem staying inside, working on my various projects.  Now that the weather turned beautiful- sunny, warm and windless-I can't concentrate.  Who else would I blame but my mother!!  (I hope she is at least smiling at this, knowing I am only kidding!)


It is VERY difficult to stay inside getting work done when the weather is so gorgeous, but I also feel the need to advance my projects which I so dutifully carried for weeks in my suitcase so that I would have something to do when we got here. (!!)

I brought cooking magazines that needed to be culled for the recipes I wanted to keep. I brought books to read-The Happiness Project, How to Manage Your 401k, plus 4 novels. I brought a knitting project and I planned to finalize my business plan and hone my social media skills.  All to be completed in 5 weeks!!! 

 Well, I have completed the cooking magazine project (even made one of the recipes the other night for dessert!), I have made progress on my knitting project, finished reading one novel and am 1/2 way through the second.  I have added the script for google analytics to my web site programming.



What have I learned? 
I have more in the queue than I can possibly accomplish in 5 weeks. 
I want choices/variety. 
I work best when there is a deadline. 
I need to feel accomplishment. 
I like having a plan, and I like being able to deviate from the plan if the mood strikes...or if the weather changes.

Thanks, Mom!!

Blue skies!

Please forward my mail

We spent three glorious days in Paris with my "ancien ami" Richard, his gracious wife, Sumire and their very talented teenage son, Ryuji.  I wish we lived closer together!

Then we arrived in Provence...the land of Pastis ( you KNOW I love Pastis!), lavender (my favorite!), medieval history,  wines (!!), all of my favorite things!  And our lodgings provide us with a fantastic view from our terrace of a verdant valley and a nightly showy sunset!

There are things that we "just know" in our lives.  Things we can't really explain how we know what they are, or why they are, or why they appeal or why we know it is right.  We just know.  Ask Malcolm Gladwell about how or why.

Well, in my life, I just know that this is a place that I could live.  I love France.  I love the food, the wine, the cheese, the pastis, the bread, the butter, the foie gras, speaking French...I could go on and on.  I am truly happy when I am here!   A lightness in my heart, a smile on my lips. 

I sat on the terrace the  first night we were here and wondered what I could do to make a living here.  Could I really be happy here?  Would the shine wear off of my feelings towards France?  Could Jeff ever learn French?  : ^ )  Would Bradford visit me?  Questions I couldn't answer, so I had another sip of my pastis, and gazed dreamily at the setting sun...  Uncharacteristically satisfied to not have an answer.

Blue skies!

Classical Chocolate

There is magic for me in Baroque classical music.  The layers, the weaving, the playfulness, the flirting between the notes, the musicians, the audience!  I am not a connoisseur of classical, but I know what makes me smile.. like some people smile when they eat chocolate.

I am not a late night person, in fact, I am not a night person at all.  With more than a little "encouragement" from Jeff, we bought tickets to hear a performance of Bach music in St. Stephen's Church in Vienna.  The concert started at 8:30pm! 

We had visited the cathedral the day before.  It has soaring ceilings, grey Gothic ornamentation dripping from every inch, the alter seemed a mile away, draped in the Holy Week purple, it was cold, dark and smelled of incense.

The night of the concert we had dinner in the NaschMarkt.  A fish place Jeff had scoped out earlier in the day.  We had a delicious dinner of "steinbutt", vegetables and I finally tried an "aperol prosecco".  Just as I was enjoying the afterdinner glow, it was time to go to the concert.  If we hadn't already bought the tickets, I would have argued to go back to the hotel and just relax for the evening.  We were committed...luckily!

What a wonderful concert!  It was great being in the church.  In spite of our inexpensive seats, we had a clear view of the "stage" and there were TV's projecting the performance as well.  The musicians were having fun, the music was lively enough to keep me awake.  It was restorative to sit next to Jeff and listen to genius compositions in a cathedral in Vienna.  Magic.

I smiled.  Chocolate anyone?

Feast without beast

Since coming to Europe, it seems that all we have eaten is meat- fresh meat, dried meat, sliced meat, crumbled meat, "wursted" meat, hot meat, cold meat, spicey meat, bland meat- breakfast, lunch and dinner!
For days now we have been saying, "Soon we'll be in Paris",  "Just wait until Paris", "Once we get to Paris...".  Well, where do you think we are??? 

We are in Paris!!  My favorite city in the whole world!  And today I have another reason to love it. 
Richard, a friend I met 38 years ago in Paris, and Jeff had been talking food ever since they met two nights ago.
Richard invited us to go to one of, if not the, largest food distribution centers in France.  Millions of tons of fresh food comes and goes throughout the day and night- moving through the supply chain to put beautiful food on the table.  Trucks in, trucks out, two wheelers loaded, fork lifts constantly moving food around the building!  It was industry at work!  and we only saw two fruits and vegetables buildings.  There were tens more buildings filled with everything edible and fresh.

Richard:  Jeff, do you know mushrooms?
Jeff:  I like to cook with them.  I use the dried...
Richard:  How about if we get some mushrooms today and cook lunch together?

That's all he had to say to Jeff...and they were off!  I did my best to keep up with them, and to listen.  They were not thinking of anything other than theingredients for lunch.  "Should we add some garlic?"  "How do you wash them?"  "I think sauteing them in oil with a little salt would taste good."  Richard knew a few people in the market who knew something about cooking, so they were enticed into the process.  "Saute them in some butter and then add creme fraiche."  "Layer these with potatoes and gruyere and put them in the oven."  "They should have some parsley".

In the end, they had three types of mushrooms, some parsley, some fruit (dessert), and some baby cabbage (more like bok choy) we hopped back on the bus and headed for home.  The two of them were like kids with Halloween bags full of candy- eager to get home to taste the spoils!

Jeff and I had to take off for a bit to the place we were staying to take care of some business.  When we got back to Richard's he had some fried rice ready to go and one mushroom dish finished- mushrooms Chinese style- cooked with the bokchoy, some garlic, and some dried shrimp.   There was still some cleaning and chopping to do.  Decisions to be made about which pans, which spices, what to mix with what for the next dish.  Finally- Orangish mushrooms with fluted caps, sauteed in olive oil with parsley added at the last minute.  and last of all were the "meaty" mushrooms sauteed with rice wine vinegar, salt, a pat of butter and a pinch of sugar.

Add a bottle of wine and Voila!  A feast without beast! 
Blue skies are here again!