oh, just a cherry clafoutis at the gas station

My moment to myself...

I pantomimed and broken frenched myself through buying sore throat medicine from the pharmacie in our little village. There was pointing to my throat and fake coughing involved.

I gestured and broken french myself through mailing 2 letters and buying stamps at the post. She thought I wanted to buy American stamps from her, so we obviously had a hard time.

And I found this woman, deceased, at the tiny cemetery in town. She looked like an amazing woman....

The cemetery was incredible and old. It actually felt like the most peace I had felt in weeks. No one to have messy french with, no one to bicker with. Just me "excuse-moi" ing myself through the headstones.

Oh man the bell in town just rang! It's 1 am....bonsoir!
miss you all and send me emails. I am home and friend-sick!

being a tourist

In Paris it is easier to blend in a little, but now we are in the smallest of towns. And we wander through these twisty streets in a gaggle, oohing and ahhing to ourselves, taking pictures of these little doorways and blue painted shutters. It feels crazy to be such an outsider of a place. It's like it might as well be a disneyland village. Everything is as cute and perfect as it should be in a small provencial village.
But regardless, I love it here. There is a church bell that rings on the hour and on the half an hour, and there is just so much beautiful stone work everywhere. and the cats...they just sit on these little ledges meowing at you. I haven't figured out yet what the french say to the cats. I make a clicking sound to them, like the one I make for basil, but they ignore me. There must be another call. But last night when we came back, a cute little thing was sleeping on my bed. It dashed off out the window, but the foot of my bed was warm and I tried to pretend it was Basil.
I keep trying to wander off on my own, but so far it is impossible. I am hoping here I will be able to sneak some time to sit in the square, eat apples and write letters for a little while.
Last night at dinner I was the only link to our young waiter. It was funny and he had enough patience to put up with us. We kept giving each other the "I don't know..?!" look, for my family, for each others slow versions of our respective languages, and for my vegetarianism in a seafood village. no fruit de la mer, no poisson, and a shrug of apology from me.
Today we go to a vineyard at 9 am. So much drinking.....

some photos

the radishes

the courtyard

the view from the kitchen

and....my new boots!

off to eat and drink more! miss you all!

yes, a fig the size of my fist...

Last night I believe I ate what must have been at least 5 cups of cream between them in the most delicious pumpkin soup and a small plate of warm leeks. I then cooed to a black and white cat that was strutting around the restaurant trying to get attention by ignoring everyone. We then proceeded to get ice cream. Well actually I surprisingly did not get ice cream, but smoked a much needed cigarette, which at the time was much more satisfying then more cream if you can believe it. We walked by the river and looked like tourists ohhing and ahhing at every building and admiring the beauty of them all.
This morning I ate a fig the size of my fist, fresh baguette with smoked salt butter, prune yogurt, an egg with an orange yolk, coffee, and a fresh madeleine....
It was as delicious as it sounds. I may not return, the figs are so good and the baguettes are so crunchy..

many heures later....

I have no idea at which time this occured but at some ungodly hour of the night that exists in the middle of the sky far above everything, my aunt carolyn and father michael snuck into economy coach and whispered, " come on, come on hurry, there's a seat next to us. grab your bag!" To which I resonably responded, "Are you guys drunk?"
So we quickly snuck me into business class where I compleletely reclined my seat into a bed and watched horribly unfunny movies and some funny ones and slept for what I am sure was an hour. It was blissful and extravagent. We spent a few hours in Germany at the airport, and now I am exhausted in a beautiful Parisian apartment trying to convince myself that I should change my clothes even though they are starting to feel like the most comfortable and stylish thing I have ever worn. But three day in a row....in Paris? I don't know. I have already had wine and the homeowners have my favorite soap. Needless to say it is wonderful.
I have already had a deer in the headlights french moment, but I am hoping that once I am rested my courage will come back and all that qubecbecois and Wej's spanishfrench will come back to me...