girl at large

Back in the Saddle

I'm going to be painting again! I've got the studio space, I have the free weekends, I have the easel...I have no excuse.

Setting up again got me thinking that I still have a number of Antibes-era paintings left unsold. This announces a last chance to get one at the 2003/4 prices (in euros no less)! Visit the Gallery, send me an email of what you'd like. Click on a picture to see details, sizes and its sold status.

Stay tuned for updates from the easel.

dropping in on friends

Mom and Bert update, including a pic, from fantastic Charlotte in Antibes!

Are we what we eat? Or are we where we shop?

I just spent an hour in the grocery store (could you guess?) and I am in the depths of depression. I usually single-girl shop at the local "gourmet" grocery store and the deli across the street. Portions are reasonable (where else can you buy one pork chop?), the fresh produce is respectable and they have some familiar foods from frenchieland that I would otherwise miss. What little cooking I know, I learned there, with those ingredients, so I enjoy having them. And they have cheese. Real cheese.

However, in a recent drive to save pennies (for a car, oh the pun!), I've decided to cut back my somewhat luxurious food budget. Into the Fred Meyer I go.

What a mistake. You know what I really noticed? Not one single human being anywhere near the food. Oh shoppers and cell-chatters sure, but service people? No. No butcher. No deli person. No cheese man. Even the humans at check out have been eliminated: U-Scan.

I looked hard, but didn't see much food either. Only plastic. Everywhere I looked, everything packaged, boxed and wrapped in plastic. Vacuum-sealed, sealed for my protection, economy-packed, you name it.

Call me crazy, but I want an aproned man touching my chops before he wraps them. In paper. The car can wait.

did i really live there?

damn you, Rick Steves, and your PBS special on the Cote d'Azur--I'm soooo very frenchie-homesick!!

Especially for Martine...

all the American euphamisms I can come up with for a certain part of the female anatomy:

Rack
Melons
Hooters
Set or Pair
Hoo-ha's
Peaches
Knockers
Cha-cha's
Tits (though I prefer the more informal "Titties")

Am I forgetting any?

it's all too much

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, American life throws another one at me: strawberries.* A simple fruit treat, right? Wrong. Now they are "GIANT" strawberries. Even the ones not labeled "GIANT" are monstrously-proportioned specimens.

That I can't fit in my mouth. And trust me, I can fit alot of things in my mouth (sorry Grandma). Am I the only one who enjoys popping in a berry and enjoying it in one bite (maybe two)? We're talking four, five bites a piece here people. They're not strawberries, they are miniature melons from the planet Giganto.

I dreamt of a book I wish I could write last night:

'BIG AMERICAN LIFE'
Why we believe bigger is better, and why we might be wrong.

And don't even get me started on cell phones---and I do get that, contrary to everything else in our expansive land, they are actually getting smaller and smaller, to the point of being ridiculous lozenges. Lozenges that rule people's lives. When was the last time you let a shrill, screeching, interrupting annoyance rule your every waking minute? Isn't that why we leave our mothers?

*I know this will all wear off in time, but I hope that a few things stay with me---the calm I feel when I realize that I don't have to answer a ringing phone. The desire for little more than I need. The pleasure of a regular, sit down evening meal, even with just myself. The health of walking, rather than driving, to the corner store. I'm writing these things down, so when I get lazy and re-accustomed to this fastness and hugeness, y'all can find this page and remind me.

bristling

I nearly lost it in the dental care aisle of Target the other night---too many toothbrushes to choose from. Seriously, there must have been nearly 200 different types on display. I didn't know where to begin. Why I should be made to decifer and contemplate MEANINGLESS differences in type, features, benefits?? Either it has bristles or it doesn't. Either it's a toothbrush or a stick.

Other than size and softness/firmness differences; any dentist will tell you that they are all the same. It's HOW you use it that makes the difference--don't you remember those little pink pills in second grade? Oh, I'm ranting...but really...

Does having so much choice TRULY improve our lives?

cheese o'my heart

I had the BEST DAY EVER yesterday. Why? Because of cheese.

The selection at a local gourmet-ish food market down the street has been reliable for chevre, parmesean, and the occasional good gruyere, but yesterday, yesterday, that magical day...Mimolette Vielle!

Four little hunks of it, snuggled in the corner of the cold case. So what if each hunk was ten times the price of what I previously paid for a whole wedge? These little hunks were actually the result of hacking up a decent sized wedge--criminal, but forgiveable, they don't know never to cut cheeses outside of their shape--dumb you-know-who's.

It looks like France, smells like France, tastes like France. And it's not even the best (by a long shot) French cheese out there, it's just my everyday favorite.

Quick, someone send me a baguette sandwich from Rima's!!

america on my nerves

New names for the obvious. A sign on the bus uses the term "mobility device" in reference to a wheelchair. When did 'wheelchair' become offensive? Is it not a chair with wheels? Why is that wrong? I'm going to start calling my purse a 'personal object transport device'.

Large hunks of meat under heat lamps, guy in little mutton chop paper hat serving--ah, the classic buffet dinner. Stuffed mushroom anyone?

Puritan priorities run amok. Why is a naked nipple more offensive than mutilation murder? And don't get me started on video games with features like 'first person shooting'. (and these games are running violent ads in prime kiddie-time---which doesn't technically bother me, but show two chicks holding hands while wearing white and you'll start a riot? I don't get it).

Responsible parking. Ok, so this is a good thing. But not nearly as entertaining as seeing a Mini or Smart or Citroen bump it's way back and forth into a non-spot between two poles. Or better yet, between two other cars.

Why the f*** are strangers smiling at me all the time? Do I know you? Oh, right, people are friendly here. Still working on dropping the suspicious 'street face'.

Cross-merchandising. When I go to a deli, I expect to find cheese, sausage, sliced meat, and the like. I don't want to search for my sandwich goods beyond 1,000 square feet of picture frames, glass-jarred pasta no one will ever eat and stacks of scented candles. Scented candles in a deli?? Cheese-scented ones, that I could take, but jeez...stick with the main goods people.

Expensive coffee that doesn't cut it. Hot and wet is the bare minimum requirement; sometimes it misses even that boat, and---HUGE does not make up for crappy. Yes, I swear to god for the fifth time today, like I do every single day, that I do "really only" want the 8 oz latte. Not 12 oz, not 16oz, and god help me I'll never need 32oz of ANYTHING. I really do mean "small". Trust me.

Signs for the stupid. "Do not sit on sharp spikey things" "Do not use these stairs if you have heart condition, diabetes, or other disability" "Do not insert fingers into electric outlet" "Don't cross in front of moving train" "Contents May Be Hot"--and my favorite on this, the update: "May be hot and cause burns"---now we have to explain what hot liquid can do??

Oversized. The grocery store designs, prints, distributes and displays a MAP of each location. Not a city map listing their locations. No. A map (or 'plan') of the interior of each individual store should you have trouble locating the milk (which you will, because it is hidden behind 8 rows of scented candles). Shit is just so big.

qu'est que passe?

I really miss being in France today---aside from the jetlag (wide awake at 5am), it would be interesting to learn what Europeans think of yesterdays election and the as-yet-unconfirmed 'results'. I miss international news coverage BBC- and ITV- style. And the International Herald Tribune, I really miss it, especially Mom's daily obsession with the Jumble.

Kerry conceded: Now that it's officially a very sad day, I'm a little tempted to use that return ticket to Nice--and not just for the cheese!

howdy!

I'm back! What a journey (!), and it's really just begining...

The huge suitcases (2) met the wieght limit (70 lbs each) by just a hair--after I removed a few things at the counter into an impromptu carry-on. Ruby was boxed and loaded, tagged and transfered, customs checked, off-loaded and re-loaded, lugged and finally, let loose. To pee on our keeper's carpet. Oops.

Flying over the eastern seaboard at night---an unexpected pleasure--the lights of the city grids, harbors and highways were gorgeous ---orange,white and blue designs on black out into the horizon. If only my seat mate had been so attractive.

Everything----everything!----is so LARGE. Cars, sandwiches, roads, buildings, --all of it, the scale--I'm thrown. Don't even ask me about the frightening muffins.

prelude

It's been raining for two days straight---grey skies, continuous rainfall---today's Portland weather is much the same. Am I being told something???

missing

getting free drinking glasses just for buying pickles
baguettes, baguettes, baguettes
air-dried laundry
smoking anywhere, anytime
shutters

bon anniversare!

Today was Grace's birthday party---she's two years old! After Grace realized that I wasn't there because her mom and dad were leaving (I watch her so regularly, she always associates me with mom and dad leaving), she enjoyed her party and all the presents. The sweater Mom made her for her first birthday is still too big (!) but the poncho I made her this year---the perfect wieght for the area's mild winters--was a hit, she found it particularly fun to swing it around and wap things with it. Thatta girl.

give me the biggest you got

Visiting the notions stall at the market this morning, in search of a very large, fat crochet hook:

-Yes, Madame, what are you looking for?
-I need a big hook please.
-Like this?
-No, I like it much bigger. Like this. (hand gesture, you can imagine it)

pause.

-Will this do Madame?

("like"? why, why did I use the verb for 'like" when I meant 'want?', ok, 'want' doesn't sound much better.)

on the rocks

Big local topic of discussion this week: the mega-sailing-yacht Mirabella V broke anchor and grounded herself on the rocks near Cap Ferrat during gale-force winds while in a dangerous spot (everyone else with any sense, or so they say, was moored in harbor or at very least, not sitting on that side of the point), sat stranded and damaged for two days before being shifted free and assisted-in for assesment and repairs. The incident was given a lot of attention--front page of the Nice Matin newspaper, full color picture, above the fold--because Mirabella V is the largest sloop in the world, just completed and launched this year, owned by the American gazillionaire-owner of Avis car rentals. He's never going to live this one down. Wonder what happens if I park my next rental car on a hill without the parking brake on?

visit revisited

Gordon, Mom's gentleman friend, sent these pictures that he snapped during our dinner party when Mike and Matt were visiting last month. Check out that last one---Mom and Mike, all that love! Pity Gordon was too busy taking pictures to be in one!

Oh!Photo!

Voila! Here's Mike and Matt's complete online photo album of their visit to Paris and Antibes---some great shots, those boys are so damn cute. Has it been nearly a week since they left already? Miss 'em so.

history down the street

Today is the 60th anniversary of the liberation of Antibes. We caught the reinactment parade after Bert alerted it to us this rainy morning---"It will bring a tear to your eye." Spirit of history aside, I think he was referring to the vintage motorcycles.

Bon Voyage!

Seeing Mike and Matt off on the train this morning.

two friends, three days, a tower, three trains, one bus, a boat, a dozen cafes and goodness knows how many bottles of wine....

taking a tour of the harbor on Tishie Mae (that counts as 'sailing', right?), doing time in the cattle car, taking in the view, tripping down pictureseque lanes and having a hellava good time!

it's twins!

THAT did NOT just happen....

The sun is shining. I have a fresh baguette in hand. All is well with the world. A woman, graceful and long-limbed, sun shining through her hair, is walking towards me in a gorgeous dress; the kind of dress you used to see in the movies: perfectly cut, white and fresh, a small pleated piece of old-school glamour. She looks stunning. I love the dress, it's just the kind of thing I'd cherish to wear. I'm nearly a bit enamored of this distracted, lovely woman. I stop not more than a foot from her, turn to say "What a lovely dress, Madame", because it's just one of those share the feel-good feeling days. As I open my mouth...

She reaches down and scratches herself. There's no mistaking this: a good, full, obviously satisfying scratch.

I kept walking.

chauffage

The heat is back. Though, it is less oppressive than last year, with fewer plants (or elderly frenchies) suffering the consequences. Or at least that's what we like to think, that it's the heat that kills them, not us. Only had to put one out of its misery this week.

alterior motive?

Tourists are thick on the ground these days, with more to come in the sweltering weeks of August. In search of new digs for Mom, we're escaping, or so we hope, by train to La Spezia and Cinque Terre in the Liguria region of the Italian Riviera. Uncle Natale and I are convinced that Mom is not only looking for cheaper harbors for Tishie Mae, a relaxed atmosphere and friendlier locals but perhaps a little "amore" Italian-style as well....I can hear it now: "Ah, Patreetzia we maka beauteeeful museeca together...."

meteo

After last years endless heat and searing clear sky, it's such a pleasant relief to see clouds, whipped up by cooling winds, like these.

often like what he says, just wish he would bathe

We saw Fahrenheit 9/11 last night. I didn't expect it to be so funny, nor for the soundtrack to be so cheeky. It was the least "I'm Mike Moore" of his films I've seen, and very thought-provoking, though I found it a little dragging, off-topic and unconvincing in the middle. Some of the images were disturbing---not so much for their content nor his commentary, but the fact that I've never seen them before---I had no idea (or have no memory of knowing) that the election results (I use that term loosely) had been officially (almost) objected to by so many house members without a single senators support, for example. Where was that story? The sold-out theater was heavily french (it was subtitled and did, afterall, win Cannes' Palme d'Or), and I was again surprised to see so many elderly ladies in attendence. The applause at the ending wasn't surprising....wish they still did that on international flights.

outing day

St. Paul is where everyone goes, but Vence is where it's at...

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum

They were huge. Well over six feet tall, and nearly as wide. Giants of the species: 'Obnoxious-Americanus-Onvacationus'. Draped in matching, yes matching, red floral oversized-print shirts and squeaking about in shocking-new-white sneakers, tree-trunk legs bare, there they were. Right in front of me, emerging from the museum's permanent collection, waddling in our direction. I had heard the tell tale voice first--from the male, booming like he was on stage--"I've been here so long I can understand French!" (he was listening to English--ha, ha, never heard that one before).

To be honest, I don't clearly recall the remainder of his attempts at witty conversation...I was too busy dodging, climbing observatory stairs I never intended to venture up (veritgo)...anywhere, anything to escape...

My classmates and museum going companions had a good chuckle---seems they could read my thoughts all over my face: "This is why I have to say I'm Canadian!"

Yeah!

Savannah, 1999/ New York City, 2002......coming soon to this space, "Antibes, 2004"....

Mike is coming! Mike is coming! I'm so thrilled--- gorgeous, funny, lovely-in-everyway Mike is coming for a visit in mid-August--just in the nick of time while I'm still here! I better catch up on my sleep...Mike likes to have a good time. (and no, not what you're thinking.)

a service between neighbors

The roman shade on the back balcony door blew off a few days ago, during another afternoon of 'grosse vente' (big winds), and landed smack-dab in the groundfloor garden next door where a little old lady tends to her lavish plantings. Looking down three stories, over the railing--Yep, there it is: sad little thing crumpled on the ground. The shade didn't look too good either.

Next day, she greeted us excitedly in the lane---"I have a strange beige piece of fabric! It's so dirty! Is it yours?" (At this point, we're so excited to have it back that I miss the full impact of her little comment.) "Yes, Yes!"

She takes us into her house. IN. HER. HOUSE. Did I mention she's an elderly French lady? Her building is nearly an replica of our own. Only ours is 4 apartments. Hers is still one house. Loaded with original features. Like flocked and flowered wallpaper on every surface, including the ceiling--and I hadn't taken my Dramemine. The glimpse of the stairs down to the cave (basement larder) itself was a wonder: sausages hanging, wood barrels, corked bottles, all manner of things dried and preserved. But her husband was in the kitchen.

Little Old French Lady continues to talk up a storm as we try to take in the hords of antiques, knick-knacks, doilies and general accumulation of more than fifty years. And that was just the hallway. I jump back to attention mid-sentence, translating when I can; but the gist is the gist of a thousand old lady nieghbor conversations world-over: prying. "The downstairs couple are Italian, aren't they? They only come on weekends, right?" and the kicker: "Which floor do you live on?"

"Ah, you're the ones with the unfortunate plants! Tsk, Tsk!"

Oh, yes, that would be us. The Nieghborhood Plant-Killers. Prediction: lugging home newly-purchased plants is in my future.

midnight music

Tonight is the summer soltice, and a national musical festival throughout the whole of France. Nearly every town sponsors bands, djs and open-air music all evening and Antibes is no exception. Matter of fact, our street is no exception– the Corsican center next door has been playing and singing, with full electronic gear, in the street outside our door all night. Only Bert would pick up that one tune was played to the same melody as the theme song to Rawhide!

viva la france!

France wins the big game.

leaving home means taking leave of their senses

despite over six years now, collectively, of living in tourist destinations i cannot fathom what thought process allows overwieght middle-aged men, most often overly-blessed in the body hair department, to depart with their shirts if the temperature rises above 70F degrees. a particularly popular thing to do when walking around town or sitting next to me at an outdoor cafe.

Welcome Back Captaine Pat!

in the Comune Libre du Safranier neighborhood on our walk yesterday

Mom's back! and she got so tan and skinny! nothing like the "Sailboat Diet"...Bert is bringing the boat back from Italy, Mom took the train....and she may take it back again to Italy, she fell in love with both the coast and Tuscany....

in the cards

we went to the Musee de la Carte Postale today, an amusing way to kill two hours, where we were treated to a personal tour that encompassed not only a history of the postcard but a bit of French history as well.

there were 5 or 6 American examples...one of which was from Portland, Oregon. hmm...a sign perhaps?

quoted Ryan: "The goddamn Postcard Museum didn't even sell goddamn postcards!"

wheels

the Smart Car or a version of it is scheduled for introduction in the USA in 2006....it's a super thing here--parking in one turn of the wheel, zipping in and out of little lanes, outstanding gas mileage, just the room a single gal and her dog would need...just the kind of car i would have loved in Savannah....but does it stand a chance against the monster american SUV's?

Ryan's take on the Smart: it's so small, you'd need one of those orange warning flags off the end of your baguette sticking out the back. i love that image.

o' bureaucrat, where art thou?

Ryan had a package sent from the States with some standard allergy medication in it, his father, law-abiding citizen (and um, Police Chief) that he is, noted as such on the documentation. oops.

eight phone calls, two agencies, three faxes, one trip to the outgoing fax office, three translations, one declaration letter and some serious printer ink cartridge depletion later, Ryan was issued an Import License by the Ministry of Medications (Agence des Medicaments) and the package cleared for delivery.

as i turned to find a pen, i was stunned when the pen-less FedEx guy said don't bother...after all that, they don't even get a signature!?!?!

daytripping

Haut de Cagnes, our favorite local get-away spot---only twenty minutes away, quiet and as yet undiscovered by tourists, gorgeous and host to a great bistro and great views....but i just don't think there are enough archways...

shoulda had shades

me and Rydog enjoying the sunshine---by looking directly at it

Ryan Takes A Walk

Stiff and Uncomfortable on the Cote d'Azur

perspective

i sent Gloom and Doom Boy out with an assignment for his digital camera today to get some shots of the town---people out and about on a lovely spring day in the south of france, that sort of happy thing---and he comes back with the homeless crazy guy on the corner and the french fashion firing squad...

served with pizzaz

Ryan's dessert of choice

be a kid again and order up an ice cream or a sorbet here and you'll get one of these...complete with cookie, delicate spoon and sparkler! Ry: "I can't imagine why people think I'm gay."

not meant to be

Ryan in Not-Italy

after hussling out the door to catch the 11am train we arrived at the station to find that the 11am train was a figment of my imagination (and the online train schedule). a cup of coffee and an hour later we're waiting on the platform for the 12pm train...which is delayed for in "indeterminate" amount of time due to an "electrical" problem....hmm..will we ever get to the market in Ventimille? is the goddess of new Italian shoes telling me that today is just not my day?

Bon Fete!

Happy May Day!

no need for the drinks list

Ryan has a thing for Coca Light...it's his usual order at our favorite evening bar. there was some confusion once about whether he wanted the bill or another Coca Light (he wanted another soda) and the patrons had a giggle...and still do everytime they see him....Monsieur Coca Light.

when in doubt, always blame the equipment

Ryan in the kitchen, Ruby waiting for something to drop on the floor.

we picked up some Bisquick with the dvd rentals thinking that pancakes make a good rainy day dinner. and also that it's something Ryan can make. or so i thought.

i noticed that the packaging had been changed, Ryan dismissed it. that oversight came to haunt him later.

after showing him where to find the metric measurement translations and the variety of US and Euro measuring devices, i left him to it. popping my head in later, i find him in a state---a frenzy over how "Crappy that piece of shit pan you gave me is!". um, ok..that's our best pancake pan. wait a minute, isn't that batter a bit too thin? "I followed the damn instructions, I got the measurements right! That's the worst pan ever!!"

quick glance at the back of the box. um, WHICH directions did you follow? "Right there, for pancakes!! I'm not a moron!" "It's that crappy pan!"

ok, ok, deep breath: um, i think you may have to follow the directions for AMERICAN PANCAKES, right down here at the bottom. you've been making crepes.

"oh."

damn crepey pan.

tickets please

Ryan marvels at the size of the tickets--they do resemble airplane tickets. i'd never thought of it before.

we went to Cannes, just to do the 'been there, done that' thing---on the way, Ryan learned the train routine and that indeed it is true that every single time i step on, the ticket inspectors know it and come sniffing for a violation....

bienvenue!

milk in a box, mayo in a tube, Ryan in a sling

Ryan arrives a week from today--yippee! he's bringing an assortment of American goodies per mom's request...tootsie rolls, Bensen&Hedges, a People magazine or two--all the staples of a happy life.

it will be interesting to see American packaging again--i've become so accustomed to mayonnaise that comes in tubes, coffee in thimbles, sugar in sticks, milk in boxes and so on.

i see london, i see france, ...

Bonjour monsieur!.

nobody's safe

this tragic mess in Madrid is so terribly sad and troubling.

another cultural mystery explained

i finally caught up with my hair girl at her new salon location for an appointment today and pointed out my most recent concern---gray hairs, quite alot around my temples---they've sprouted overnight it seems. she said no worries, they aren't spread all over and next visit a little touch of color should do the trick (though not all over, after years of dye-ing a rainbow of hues i'm now prefering au natural). curiously though, i noted that the word she used was 'blonde'....i listened closely to make certain i wasn't mistaken --but no, she referred to gray or white hairs as 'blonde' a number of times.

i had to ask. in my awkward french i inquired---"surely you mean GRAY hair, right?"

in a low tone of voice she replied: "No, no"--meaningful look---"Here it is BLONDE hair."

track-nappers

the news has just hit that there have been serious bomb threats made against the French train system since December. the authorities have already found and MacGyver-ed one real and surprisingly sophisticated bomb on the tracks. i was wondering why the security agents and large, vicious guard dogs were out on force and random delays were more frequent lately.

the bomb-threateners (is that a word?) are demanding 4 million euros, about 5 million dollars.

i can't help thinking---only a lousy 5 million? is that all they want? can't even get a decent villa around here for that, much less staff it.

this is not what the brochure described!!

lightening, rain, gale force winds, African sand storms, high seas, closed roads, broken shutters---this is not what i was promised! yesterday morning the previous night's storm lingered, blowing red Sahara desert dust over the rooftops and cars and sloshing down large terracotta puddles in the street--the sky was glowing orange, yellow-green and gray--no way to describe it here, but it was eerie and beautiful.

and then it was just crappy, wet and cold.

those are some serious lemons baby....

there's alot going on this week--Carnaval in Nice, Menton's Lemon Fest---too bad i'm going to miss seeing all those girls in bikinis on parade floats.

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, When is my Cupid due???

walking down rue d'Antibes in Cannes the other day, i thought to myself when admiring the new window displays--"oooh goodie, looks like red, my favorite color, is the new color for spring! how nice!"---then i realized that no, the frenchie fashion color scheme will shortly return to the standard black, grey, camel and olive. it's just Valentine's Day.

this morning i walked out into a lane with piped in open-air music--french love songs, and garlands of red heart balloons overhead as far as the eye could see.

the universe hates me. tell me what nation doesn't do VD these days--i'll go there.

if you don't believe me now, you never will. i'm cursed.

the ONE time i make a mistake with my train ticket. the ONE time out of how many?!?!? of course, i sit there unknowingly holding a ticket for Juan les Pins when i am going one stop further to Antibes. honestly, an honest mistake--i was in a hurry, throwing coins in the machine, turning the silly knob while looking at the time board, and rushing to catch my train that was pulling into the station. i never even glanced at the ticket until it was too late. so, of course, this ONE time, after nearly hundreds of inspector-free trips (always with correct ticket in hand!)---the inspectors are on board. and i'm in trouble. 25 euros. for a one stop (75 cent) mistake!?!? and why, why, why does it take THREE inspectors to complete the transaction? one to hold the credit card machine (how handy), one to write the paperwork, and one to give me a lecture and wag his finger at me.

i wonder how many frenchie functionnaires it takes to change a lightbulb?

potting around

i've really been enjoying my little pottery group (both the clay work and the French conversation practice) and now that i have a few hand building techniques under my belt i've been more experimental/expressive --pics of recent work to come, they're being fired later this week. i found a little art society/studio here in Cannes awhile back and now can finally join up later this week. with membership comes the perk of access to both the drawing/painting and ceramics studios during three open sessions each week--AND they have a RAKU kiln! yippee!

with my interest in pottery growing, i've been looking for some pot blogs (ha ha) and haven't had much luck--seems i'm not the only one.

i wonder on what occasion one does NOT wear a scarf?

i helped Maria dye her hair this afternoon and noticed that the instruction sheet was undeniably french....the illustrated woman demonstrated the use of the post-color conditioner while wearing a scarf.

she wasn't drawn smoking a cigarette however--perhaps the stuff is flamable?

economies of scale

Maxi Bazaar (Woolworth's meets The Dollar Store) has curtains on sale...by the kilo. there's a little handy electronic scale in the display. well, whaddya know.

making friends with the frenchies

it's been a banner inter-cultural exchange weekend here.

last night i was stopped by Sweet Hair Girl as i walked up to the market. she was excited and animated--after a proper greeting (kiss kiss, ca va?) i understood that she and her two girlfriends (whom i was introduced to!) were telling me that she's left our usual salon! non! she was worried about finding me and Maman again--she knew we lived just down the road, which she wandered up and down a few times searching for us. imagine. thank goodness we ran into each other--i'd not have anyone else do my hair--she's absolutely charming and i really enjoy speaking in french with someone near my age, someone i would be friends with. well, maybe we are friends now--after she's settled in her new salon, opening in two weeks, we're going to go get a coffee!

then this morning, Monsieur Bernard rang the bell at the house with mom's wallet, keys and Carmex (?!) in hand. we had arranged to meet at La Poste because he wasn't familiar with Antibes, but he managed to find it afterall from my inadequate-in-any-language directions. another happy greeting (kiss kiss ca va?) what a charmer! he was expressive and excited to have found Maman. though the cash and cards are gone of course it is a comfort to have the wallet back--and the all important Carmex.

and then, a few minutes later i was walking Ruby down Dog Pee Lane when a small Frenchman started talking to me--i wasn't paying attention at first, but then realized he was complimenting me on my 'picking up'. he did a little dog-poo-avoidance dance to demonstrate how he has to walk down his lane until everyone picks up 'les crottes' like i do. and he smiled.

i can't describe what a triumph a few interactions like this feels like. the frenchies walk about with grim, dour faces on --a wall between themselves and the strangers they are surrounded by. to crack that, to make a connection--especially in their language--is a feat! and when it happens--their smiles are so genuine and remarkable. it makes me feel good all day.

poor Maman, literally.

Mom's purse was stolen last night while she and Bert were eating at DeCito. money, credit cards, French bank card---gone. (and i'm really bumming--she had our only pot of Carmex in there). that's what she gets for going to our local without me. the staff was just as upset as she was, Cute Waiter said he knew they'd be back to pay another time---they're there like clockwork often more than once a week.

the form at the Gendarmerie was in French, German, Italian and English--no trouble really there, they see this kind of thing quite regularly. Bert has a set of housekeys so they were able to get in the house, though he had to add a dark comment before going to bed : "I hope no one comes in and murders us in the night." nice.

i got a call this morning on my cell phone--a message from a Monsieur Bernard who found mom's "petite porte-monnaie" in the lane behind the restaurant where he works in Villeneuve-Loubet. he was so excited when i called him back--thrilled to bits that he was able to reach me, especially when he found out the wallet he found belongs to "Maman". he went on and on about how he had to try to figure out who this unfortunate dame was by sorting through the strange bits in her bag. and then he found my "girl at large" card with an obviously french phone number on it. formidable! and he's even kind enough to come to Antibes tomorrow morning to drop it off though it has to be early, as he says, because he has to have Sunday lunch with his Papa at Maman, "C'est tres important" you know. yes, i know.

p.s. oh, and we did the whole thing in french! i understood every word! proves my theory--when you HAVE to understand and speak another language, you CAN.

she's so popular

i got scolded again today for not bringing Miss Ruby with me to the Tabac. i scored smiles and laughs (so rare!) when i said, in french, that she's trying to quit! yeah me.

done already?

Haut-de-Cagnes

we've been feeling a little house-bound lately, so mom and i decided to spend the afternoon in the medival village of Haut-de-Cagnes (above Cagnes sur Mer), have a little lunch and a wander around in the tiny, charming lanes. lunch was great--the town is dead quiet this time of year, though it wasn't much busier when i was there this past summer (the tourists don't know that much about it and head to nearby and over-run St. Paul instead). i took a few shots for some future work, i'll probably return soon for some sketching--i had done Rue/Haut de Cagnes some time ago from sketches/pics of one of the narrow, moody streets. lunch was great; enough warm sunshine to eat outside with a sliver view of the sea, enjoying a warm slice of apple and pear tart. our wander around was great--though steep--until we inadvertently wandered right out of town! so, we really only killed about three hours and are back in the house again already. oops.

how do they do it?

i'm still amazed. i can still be stopped dead in my tracks in rue d'Antibes, mesmerized. how do they do it?

how do these women walk in those heels? i'm not talking cushy platforms or one inch business heels or even accommodating stewardess numbers. i'm talking 4 to 6 inches of spike resting precariously on a rubberized cap the size of a pencil eraser. the angles of these things are sharp, steep and terrifying to me. how the tendons of the ankle can handle the stress, i can't imagine. i don't even think Barbie could manage it.

and everyday, everywhere i see ladies of every age wearing them shopping, walking the dog, even running to catch the train--over gaping grates, through cobblestones more closely resembling earthquake rubble---teetering and tottering they go in shoes that can only be described as death-defying.

i'm a convert to French fashion sense, i won't deny it. i've been wearing mostly black for a decade (longer if you count the mod years), i've traded in standard cut jeans for boot-leg in a mild-to-moderate camel-toe fit, most of my handbags now come in bags of their own, i've nipped in my dresses, tossed out the baggy sweaters, paid so much for bras and undies that i can list them on my renters insurance, and am no stranger to the endless ways a scarf can be tied. yes, Dawn, it is a law that you have to wear a scarf here.

but those heels. there are some things i just can't bring myself to do. i'll blame it on my fear of hieghts.

en greve, quelle surprise

train interior, views from train along the coast

the train operators were on strike yesterday, from what i can gather to protest a regulation proposal for restricting their ability to go on strike. hmm.

chien billet

as if it isn't hassle enough to get fearful Miss Ruby on and off the train--today i got stopped for not having a ticket for her! i use the machines to buy my tickets, but of course the machines don't issue dog tickets. so, i missed the earlier train to stand in line to BUY A TICKET FOR THE DOG. "01chien"=1.30 euro. for a ten minute ride, standing up the both of us. i don't mind, it's fair really and i'm happy that i'm allowed to take her on at all--what i don't get is that i've walked by the same ticket inspectors four times a week with the same dog and the same one PERSON ticket for the last four months without a word. a beaurocrat must have recently decided that all this free dog-travel must stop! imagine.

after some online research, i see that she needs a ticket (though why randomly Messieurdames Ticket Inspectors?) because she is over 6kilos (13lbs). hmm--diet time!

cycling through France in the winter

we (Dale, Liz, John and i) had dinner last night with a young chap by the name of Tom. Tom is English. Tom is from Elham (the village where Dom's parents have the pub/restaurant). Tom is a young farmboy doing seasonal landscaping work. Young Tom has the winter free. So, Young Adventurous Tom is BICYCLING (from England, from Elham) THROUGH FRANCE IN THE WINTER. contrary to what most would believe, this activity is NOT
a) the cost of losing a bet
b) a dare
c) the result of a break from reality

so, here he arrived, bicycle in hand, at Liz's doorstep the other night, happy as she says to "kip on the carpet". and what a lovely boy! so well mannered, must have been well taught by mom. we've all insisted he stay on another night to join us for dinner again and i'm keen to have him meet Bert tomorrow afternoon down at the boat---they seem to have so much in common.

the fast train, ferocious dogs and finger food

Miss Ruby is afraid of the trains, in fact she fears the entire train experience--the train station, getting on and off the train, watching the high-speed train bullet by, riding the slower regional train, even the loudspeaker announcements through her off-balance. going back and forth from Cannes to Antibes by train is still a snap--provided i pick her up and carry her and don't mind de-furring my clothes upon arrival.

the other night, she was showing marked improvement--walking into the station herself, though haultingly. as we turned the corner on to the platform, she froze. a few yards away was the most terrifying looking dog we've ever seen. it was a giant pitbull-rotweiler-albino-demon cross, complete with intimidating chain, muzzle and security officers. Ruby understandably hit the pavement, trembling. first the train, now this! one security officer was amused--"Regardez--l'aperitif!" he said to the drooling beast.

speaking of aperitives, amuse-bouches, appetizers---i'm amused myself to know the french use so many ways of saying hors d'oeurves, without ever once in my experience using the word hors d'oeurves.

(though to be accurate, l'aperitif is usually a starter drink, not a food...wonder why he choose that word? or maybe i misheard..wouldn't be the first time).

will work for food

Margaret has a job interview this week, Maria has four strong leads for her new property management work (with some spillover work for me) and i've had two good responses to my work inquiries...things are looking good this week. could there be a 'career' star in our houses or some such hippydippy thing?

i tell you, this poverty diet is working out though...size 12 jeans here i come!

it could be loads worse

winter 1974 and winter 1977 (by which time we'd graduated from cardboard and a bit of string to a proper sled)

i have to remind myself of winters like these when i find it too chilly and grey here this winter...it's all a matter of degrees. no complaints here today! at least it's not minus 20 (F) windchill with six inches of snow on the ground like it is in parts of the American Midwest.

Bon Annee!

well, here starts 2004! this past year has been a wonder. and i'm still here, living in the south of France. go figure. i arrived one year ago today with two suitcases, a trembling dog in a crate and twenty bucks to my name. jobless, homeless, scared out of my wits with nothing but dog biscuit crumbs in my pocket. what a way to start an adventure!

and here i am a year later, sketching and painting most every week day, speaking passable French and learning more everyday, taking up pottery and sailing, having a blast getting to know my mom as an adult, having enough good friends to have TWO New Year's Eve parties to attend, and having more good friends kind enough to trust me to care for their apt. and cat (and in the process giving me a place to live and a way to extend my stay!), and having just met a very likely candidate for the previously unoccupied position of Boyfriend. a good year!

zapper

in a desperate attempt to find something to watch other than CNN or ITV News, i spent a few annoying minutes clicking through every single satelite channel, noting the ones that actually had reception. (the satelite dish is too low to get a proper signal and some other problem i'm not up on has severely limited the English-language television channels available). i've found the religious stations (3), the Spanish station, the shopping channels (18!), the Motor channel, the Travel station, more news stations (2) and ...(drum roll)..Reality TV. Reality TV has a line-up of shows with names like Inferno!, Rescue 911 (remember that one?), Disaster!, The Tube, Surf Crazy and What Went Wrong?. what was i thinking watching edu-snobby, good-for-you-like-cauliflower-even-though-it-tastes-like-feet PBS all those years? now this is quality programming! gotta run...Cheaters is on.

p.s. yes, yes, i know i should be watching French tv for the practice, but sometimes it hurts my brain.

Holiday-rage

it is not necesary to stand THAT close to me in line!!!! (deep breath) i've grown accustomed to the French idea of personal space, mainly, that there is no such thing. but today, at the post office i nearly lost it! and then, this guy starts telling me how to use the damn machine, the machine i've been using for a year! that i'm using just fine without your help buddy! i'm just waiting for it to finish printing the damn stamps. and no, i can't just get a book of stamps because these are going international and take a funny amount, i know this!! back off! danger! you're standing too damn close! and telling me what to do?!?! (another deep breath)

so, in these moments, when i just want to be left alone to finish my business and i have a cold and my nerves are shot and sending 48 Christmas cards (of which i'll get a return percentage of close to ZILCH) to my friends and loved ones in three countries seems more than i can bear and the guy is now literally STANDING ON TOP OF ME (excuse me?!? please don't put your package on the scale ON TOP of my letter!?! can you NOT see me?)---i do the naughty thing---pretend i don't understand and go into english. and you know what?! the jerk was ENGLISH! so much for queu-ing up nicely mate.

holiday spirit, French style

i was walking Ruby out along the ramparts the other day in Antibes, though there was a nip in the air the sun was out, when i paused to let Miss Ruby do her sniffing thing. From behind me came a person on a bicycle--you can sense these things--always fond of bicyclists (next painting subject maybe?) i turned to get a better look. this is what i saw: an older lady, probably over 60 with that blonde-white hair all French ladies of a certain age seem to have, wearing a bright red wool coat--the kind with princess puff sleeves, a nipped in waist with brass buttons and a big swirl of a drop to the ankles--this volume of red fabric was caught up in the wind behind her. Her bike was an old-school type with big white wall tires, cruising handlebars and wicker baskets front and rear. and in the back basket? wrapped Christmas presents and a bunch of evergreens.

did i just see Madame St. Nick?!? of all times not to have my camera.

a few days previous, again in Antibes, i was walking through the square--now complete with Christmas train ride for the kiddies and various vendors selling various kitsch--and noticed a rather tall, thin man selling animal shaped mylar balloons. he'd made an attempt to dress festively, but i must say it was the worst Santa costume i've ever seen--too short for his long arms and legs, he was much in need of padding for that 'jolly fat' look and he'd given up on the cottonball beard by just letting it hang down round his neck on his chest. just when i was thinking this was amusing enough-- a little boy, 3 or 4 years old, spotted "Santa", pointed, smiled and exclaimed "Ho! Ho! Ho!". only this kid was French so it came out "Heau! Heau! Heau!"

i had to struggle to keep from laughing out loud, you should have been there, it was so funny.

couper et discuter

Madamoiselle Hair Girl is such a sweetie--she loves doing my hair, mostly i think because i never care what she does with it--i let her do something different every time. of course, short hair is easy that way--no matter how different, it is still pretty much the same. or it grows out to the same thing in a week or two anyway! Monsieur Hair Guy is a serious chatterbox--it's good practice for me to sit and listen to him rave on about politics, religion, etc in french. today's listening was a lecture on the state of capitalism in the 'new' Russia. the poor guy in his chair only came in for a trim!

meteo

only one clear, relatively warm day this entire past week. and we're in for another few days of rain and storms...F9 winds (between a Gale and a Storm according to MeteoMan Bert) expected tomorrow, flooding in the south the next few days.

check out this recent satelite image: France is obliterated!

according to the locals, so far i've spent my 'year in France' during the one year in memory that contained the coldest winter, the hottest (and deadliest) summer and now the wettest fall. huh.

sorry, i'll never be a snow bunny

out on the boat yesterday, the view of the mountains was crystal clear--the recent stormy weather has cleared the usual cloud (and haze) cover as well as brought a good amount of snow to the peaks. which is just where i like to see snow--far, far away in a place i'll never go.

twister

Mom turned her ankle and fell yesterday. no panic, but her ankle is in sad shape. note: when living in the south of France, where folks (and pharmacies) take their siesta seriously, never injure yourself between noon and 2:30.

funny pharmacy anecdote:
me, in fairly decent french: "Excusez moi Madame, blah blah....I'm looking for something to help my mother, she fell and turned her ankle."
Medicinal Madame: "Is it bad?" "Is it very fat?"
Me: "Um, yes." (i'm thinking that 'fat' means 'swollen' in this usage, yes?)
Medicinal Madame: "Is your mother very old?"
Me: "No, she's just 'so-so' old."

(imagine 'so-so' hand gesture included, it just came out that way, i swear!)

Cannes, Croisette and Chairs

along the Croisette there are rows of freestanding cheerful blue chairs for enjoying the view and the sunshine (though not this month!)..i've always been so pleased to see a society so trusting as to have hundreds of moveable chairs about for the citizens to enjoy..and marveled that they didn't disappear by the dozens only to reappear on private terraces..until i tried to pick one up and adjust it's placement..they weigh an absolute ton! that's how they do it, forget trust!

hooker, mauls, rugger, props, pitch, and scrum..sounds like a nasty business!

i was spectator to a strange and beautiful thing today. at 9:30 in the morning, on a Saturday morning no doubtedly foggy for some, a group- nearly a crowd- gathered downstairs outside the doors of Morrison's Irish Pub, waiting for the dog-tired bartenders to arrive (which they finally did with two minutes to spare) so they could watch the match on the big screen tv. 'the match', by the way was no ordinary game. it was the The Rugby World Cup..England vs. Australia. now, most know that the last 'cup' i watched had noodles in it and the last time i used the term 'vs.', i was signing divorce papers. so, it must be said that i went with an open mind (and not a book this time...should have known that starter marriage was doomed at the first SuperBowl party invitation) and a keen hope to glean something out of the experience. (at the very least to understand a few of the strange sounding terms). and i was rewarded..there's this player, (the kicker?), a Johnny Wilkinson--what a creature! i may get into this rugby thing.

desperately seeking blinds

roomie Duncan has discovered that when one glances out the kitchen window, say while having the morning coffee, one can see, quite plainly in the window of the nieghboring apartment building..an Ugly Naked Man. regularly. this has proven to be endlessly amusing; "Come quick, Ugly Naked Man is back!" "What's he doing now?". last night, there was a Skimpily-Clothed Skinny Woman in the room as well. Ugly Naked Man was, as always, fufilling both descriptives, seated on the bed, in an, um, rather 'anticipatory' pose while Skimpily-Clothed Skinny Woman fumbled around in her purse for i-don't-want-to-know-what. i left the kitchen, head in hands ('my eyes! my eyes!'), leaving Duncan to continue gazing and chuckling.

cough syrup anyone?

ok, so the frenchies so adore their wine they are willing to put aside a whole day, perhaps a week, to celebrate the first pressing (perhaps only done a week ago) of Beaujolais Nouveau...a crap bit of grape juice even on it's best day. but what a fine time! any excuse to celebrate. so, i participated in the frenchie experience by having Pot au Feu (stewed meat, assorted, with boiled/steamed veggies, again, assorted) and Beaujolais Nouveau in a charming little restaurant in Cannes tonight with Liz, Jill, Jill's neighbors (the "very nice old gays") and Duncan. at a place by the name of Le Petit Lardon..i love frenchie restaurant names..that translates, loosely, to 'The Little Bit of Bacon'. how good is that?

p.s. by the way, Pot au Feu, don't get me wrong, is very cozy and a homey meal, but not by a long shot, in my humble opinion, the best frenchie cuisine has to offer..it strikes me though as a perfect match for the Beaujolias Nouveau..even the most basic of a type are better together and who needs any other reason to enjoy themselves and their company in such a warm ambiance? it's comparable to the fond memories of PBR and corn dogs in the summertime at the county fair..crap alone, nothing you'd ever go out of your way to procure, but at the right time, with the right company--there's nothing better. someone (by the name of Custard) would even say that I once said, "The best sound in the world!" to the cracking open of a can of PBR. now, who would believe that?! ha!

be warned: Liz and i are on the prowl tomorrow night, or as she says: "going sharking"! or as Duncan says: "on the pull". don't you love these British sayings? makes slutting it up sound so much more charming!

franglais

i was worried my break to the States would somehow delete from my mind all knowledge of the French language..like hitting the wrong key on the computer..zap! all work, gone! but i need not have feared..i'm just as lousy a French speaker now as i was three weeks ago!

one big bonus of living in Cannes..folks here seem to be more used to folks of various native tongues (not just English, but mostly so) and are much more patient. perhaps it's also due to the less demanding off-season as well. or maybe it's the sweater. remember the NYC airport low cut sweater? i have harnessed it's power (for good, not evil) frequently since it's first stellar performance.

international soap opera

it's rainy and gray (the locals say unusually so, but i suspect the glorious weather mom always raved about is somewhat overstated come winter time), i was spoiled by the temps in Savannah last week. i was spoiled by alot of things in Savannah last week. sigh. double sigh. what's a girl to do?

Jill had Liz and me round for drinks last night after i'd finally got myself back to Cannes..very nice to have a laughy girly chat. (though, surprisingly enough, roomie Duncan is doing very well at providing the same thing, bless him!). when i arrived, both were inspecting the blog, particularly the pics of me and "the dishy boy". Jill is hooked, "better than East Enders" she says. i had to clarify my Blonde Gay Brother entry ('dum-dum-da-dum', Thursday Nov.13). no, my brother is not 1) Gay or 2) Blonde. it's a long story, but Jamie (wedding attendant and friend) back in the day misheard introductions when Chris and i first met him and thought i was making out with my brother. ok, so that was corrected. then, at this most recent event, Chris was newly bleached blonde and arrived with a gay friend--Jamie didn't recognize him and thought he was our friend's new boyfriend. so, there, according to Jamie's warped mind/humor, i was making it with my Gay Blonde Brother. ha!

this is my France

imagine a place where you can buy a loaf of fresh bread, made each day by a master baker who rises before the sun does, for a mere, guarenteed 65 cents. and there is a bakery like this on nearly every other block.

and envision also on nearly every other block, or at least within a few minutes walk, a wine shop stocked to the gills with the finest wines you'll find anywhere. and you can buy a good wine, i mean a GOOD wine (as in it tastes good to you and there is no other criteria for enjoyment) for less than six dollars. for ten to fifteen dollars you can have a bottle of superb wine that back in the States, you would have had to cross state lines to have the privilege of paying fourty dollars to a snooty, malcontent clerk for.

imagine a place where you can sit at a warm and inviting coffee shop, order the smallest item, a coffee for a trifling 1.00 and stay at that table the entire day thereafter, never being bothered to move on. and there is a choice of such establishments, including some actually on a beach, yes, you can put your toes in the sand, sit in a comfortable chair under an umbrella and sip coffee THE ENTIRE DAY for one dollar. ok, maybe two dollars, a second cup of coffee never hurt anyone.

and think about this one: no one ever, EVER asks what you do for a living. they frequently and enthusiastically ask you, however, and get this: what you do for FUN. that's right, for PLEASURE. they don't ask where you went to college, they assume you know how to find the knowledge you seek. they don't ask you what kind of car you drive, it's not the car but it's contents (YOU!) that interest them. for status conscious Americans, i repeat: in this place, you will NEVER be asked what you do to earn a living. they want to know HOW you DO your LIVING.

and imagine even the smallest of towns have shoppers enough (of the sort who care enough about their evening meal to prepare for it in the morning) to support daily open air fresh produce markets. and at this market there is always someone who knows more about cheese than you ever believed humanly possible. and it's actually interesting information. and another fellow down the way has the same vast knowledge of nothing but sausage. and another holds a doctoral degree in mushrooms. again, all of it interesting and useful. this is not your pimply-faced highschool grocery mega-mania supercenter produce department stock boy flunkie. these guys live this stuff. and you gain at the table, ten-fold, for the difference i can tell you.

imagine that it is generally agreed amongst the people of this place, that in order to avoid the stress that the inevitable dings, scratches, miffs and clunks that driving and parking in small and winding lanes can create, they've all agreed that the OUTSIDE of all vehicles in fact belongs to NO ONE. an individual only owns the INSIDE of a car. the condition of the paint job is of no concern whatsoever, it's not yours anyway. poof! in one fell swoop, no worries! so what that the delivery truck engraved the side of the car?, he has every right to if he needs to get through that way, it belongs to everyone afterall. it's a free country.

and dogs and babies are welcome (and truly welcomed, with coos, cuddles and smiles) everywhere..every shop, every restaurant. even the foo-foo ones, where occassionally, wonders!, a dog may actually be enjoying quite a fine meal in the chair next to you. and FIVE YEAR OLDS regularly order huge bowls of MUSSELS and eat them, unaided, with relish. and someone will bring your dog a bowl of water, or warm your baby's bottle, often without being asked, every time.

imagine a people so comfortable with advances and tradition at the same time as to have clothed their street sweepers (individual men, not the vehicles) with insulated, wind and rain resisitant day-glow reflective uniforms of the most advanced variety (picture a HazMat suit) and then equipped them with a wood handled broom made of dried twigs bound together with a bit of string, a style of broom in use since i imagine the Middle Ages. it works. the best of both worlds, in teams of four (for the smoking break rotation), moving cleanly down your street every morning.

this is the France, my little piece of France, that i will miss next week. bless her.

only four more days

it's cold and rainy again today, not at all what i signed up for people! and guess what? it's 75 in Savannah! and i'll be there soon, i leave on Sunday. damn, i've got a lot to do before then. like drop another dress size.

a bedroom with a view

the scene outside the front bedroom balcony in Cannes. it's taking some getting used to..Antibes seems to me so much greener and smaller, almost 'quaint', but i'm sure i'll find more to love as i get to know Cannes better. Miss Liz was a great help this past weekend, taking me over to the huge Marche Forville..must be ten times larger than the Marche Provencial in Antibes..everything you could want for produce, cheeses, flowers, etc. i'll be doing my daily shopping there for certain. i seem to have also gained a boyfriend..or so the older, married fellow who runs the pizzeria downstairs would like to believe. i lost something in the translation, but apparently, i'm his. huh.

meow

a few pics of Jack for Ma and Pa so far away. enjoy! fyi: don't ever call me a cat. i hate that. of course, to the French, that's what my name reads like.."Kaaht". ugh.

a French truth: the older the lady, smaller the dog=the better the baguette

since i was up so early, thought i'd go to the market and do some scoping around the neighborhood. i also needed to find a boulangerie/patisserie. which way? ok, follow the old ladies with market baskets and/or trolleys. bingo! ok, buy a baguette. then follow another old lady to another shop. buy another baguette (hoping the first isn't too obvious under coat). continue until have found four boulangeries to choose from. ok, which one has the best baguette ancienne? hmmm. have taste testing. mmm.

happy days!

the boiler man arrived this morning at 8am! unheard of here! so, of course, i was unprepared, ie: asleep in bed. but throwing vanity to the wind in favor of the hot shower vanity requires in the first place, i let him in. and he got it fixed! woo-hoo!

pas l'eau chaud

the boiler repair man is coming on Wednesday morning. um, it's Monday. no hot water for how many days? if i didn't know better i would swear the service rep scheduled me for then because i butchered the french word for boiler. not knowing the french word for boiler and having left my dictionary at mom's i did my best: what part of "water hot making machine" wouldn't you understand?

let's hope the repair man has a better sense of humor.

how can it be that i don't own a single pair of socks?

i'm such a wuss. it's chilly here tonight, like in the mid to low 50's (13C)! thank goodness mom brought over (to Cannes) not only my dog, but The Ugly Sweater as well. but i can't find anything to keep my toesies warm and to top it off, somehow the hot water decided to call it quits this afternoon. i don't think i can face a cold shower in the morning. i might have to stay in bed under the covers all day tomorrow instead.

if i had a gallon of chocolate ice cream, i would have eaten it all by now

gorgeous, unique jewelry store. charming sales gal/owner. very helpful, cheery and interested in helping Erin, 'the young' find a ring that suits her and thrilled to help me, "MAMAN" find an appropriatly stylish necklace.

that's right: i was mistaken for THE MOTHER of my same-age girlfriend. dear god, what did i do to deserve this?!?!?!

she and i both realized right away her error of course (or so i choose to believe!), but she was too embarrased to ask if she was wrong, i was too mortified to correct her. so it continued. "Maman" bought a very sassy necklace--you know; for an old lady. "La Jeune" can go to hell!

Madame Kate

update from master researcher Peg re:my Visa nightmare. so far, it doesn't look good. though the Artist Visa allows me to live here, it does not allow for working. she did discover however, that i can legally work as a prostitute without a visa, as long as i don't have a pimp.

or i could aways try (harder) to find that EU husband. hmm, that's the same thing isn't it?

beach babes

ok, this tyke gets more action than i've seen in years! first the little frenchie girl at the cafe, now a frenchie water nymph. he's a trooper..that water was COLD. must be his hearty Minnesota/Wisconsin upbringing.

Daddy Doug will be so proud...his little guy gettin' wid da ladies!

gotta see the Regatta

another Regatta today...so many sailboats, so little time.

around la ville with The Giant Jogging Stroller

walking through Safranier (also known as 'the postcard street'), watching the regatta, discovering raisin brioche.

traveling toddler

after nearly a full day of airplanes followed by a bus ride from hell, little 2 year old Sam is a trooper..even enough energy left to make a little French girlfriend. and run around a play park in Italy the next day...what a life!

on la route again

think driving in France is scary?!? (home of the roundabout, 13 year olds on scooters, mad motorbike drivers, indicator ignorance, guerrilla-style parking and delivery vans with a license to demolish).
try doing it in a circa '72-'73 Mini Cooper!!!! the last thing i used that had a 'choke' was a lawnmower, and that was fifteen years ago.

but, no worries, only my nerves are shot. one more trip for a box of painting supplies or two and i can park her for awhile. though..it is awfully nice to have wheels again...

Miss Jack the cat jumped up on my lap this afternoon. i think we're going to get on just fine. Miss Ruby seems a bit jealous already.

Bon Voyage!

Miss Liz has left yesterday for her holiday in the UK. Mom and i had our regular bi-weekly supper at DeCito's last night in her honor. oh wait, she's British, so that's 'honour'. it's only a few weeks, but she'll be missed! i'll also be missing my "did we really drink that much wine?"-partner, as Dom and Dale left on Friday for their term (6 to 9 months) in the UK as well...not a jail term mind you, Dom will be setting up the kitchen in her parent's new pub.

i'll be heading over to Cannes early this week to begin looking after their flat and young Jack, the doorstop-fiddling cat. Ruby vs. Jack looks to be an interesting skirmish, though Jack is the odds-on favorite. (Ruby really is a big chicken).

so, i've been holding off the announcement until all the details were sorted, which they now are. i'm moving to Cannes! (for the time being anyway). i'm looking forward to getting to know a new town, having some alone time, a larger front room for larger painting experiments and kitchen big enough for entertaining from time to time. i'll miss mom's dinners though, and Uncle Berts bert-isms..but not to worry, it's only a ten minute train ride away. and i'll be sure to be around, back and forth quite frequently.

in a bad way

never, ever begin a pottery course horrendously hung over. sloppy pots.

cross-cultural cotton candy

we went to the Cirque Arlette Gruss Thursday evening...a great show, though none of us could understand the bit with the spangly-leotard-clad girl jumping about in a large plastic bowl of water. something was lost in the translation. and much to Bert's disappointment, no midgets (P.C. Peg: "little people! little people!"). but the boys flying about in those pants..now there's a spectacle!

the shindig at the boat last night was a big success, but we forgot to bring the camera..we've been negligent in the picture taking department all of this week i'm afraid to say, so here are two shots (sorry, sans flash in consideration of the current hung over state of a certain subject) of our exciting night life at home.

Cannes is more than slot machines afterall

we had a fantastic dinner at Gavroche in Cannes to celebrate Liz's birthday last night...fabulous food, very friendly proprietors, great company and small charming atmosphere in the hilly streets of the old town. Mom won't stop raving about it, has decided that is where she wants her birthday dinner next month. i think the after-dinner Amaretto may have sealed the deal on that one.

i'm gonna have to wear a sign or something

Ruby and i enjoyed our regular stroll up to Fort Carre this afternoon. the weather is beautiful, the old town is less congested--September has been a big improvement over August. only some people seem to think i'm a lingering tourist: a little french boy saw me with my camera, pointed at me and said to his parents "That tourist brought her dog". thanks alot kid. that's 'artiste', not 'touriste'.

is it a good thing or a bad thing that i'm begining to really understand what the frenchies are saying?

15 minutes or 20 euros, whichever goes first

we hopped the 200 bus to Cannes yesterday for a change of scenery and to pick up a few things at the well-stocked art supply store there..or so i thought..mom will use any ruse to go gambling.

number 17

my little corner of the world/these plants are unbelievably dead/this streetlamp, though charming, is never actually turned on/these are the antennas (anteni?) for just one four story building/this is just a few days worth of empties/the cleaning man comes on Fridays so now the stairs smell good/Ruby, on the other hand, does not smell so good today/this plant is miraculously alive (read:purchased this week)/everyone needs a folding bike/but why do we need the folding ladder in the hallway? for a week?

i thought F7 was my french shoe size

Mom, Bert, Liz and I were going to go out on La Tishie Mae out this afternoon when the wind picked up something fierce. all we had really wanted to do was have a few beers in the harbor, so instead of risking our lives in wicked weather (F6-F7 winds, whatever that means), we went up to the parking lot above the gravette to watch those sailboats that were chancing it racing and struggling in the huge unexpected wind. the mountains were crisp, the sea was turquoise, the boats were really moving beautifully, the beer was cold and we were enjoying it all when wham! huge wave slams up over the wall, soaking us all!

note Liz's expert handling of the beer in a crisis. good show.

haven't seen 4am in a long time...not sober anyway....

..woken up by huge thunder and lightning rainstorm..big booms and crashes and pounding rain..gorgeous. Ruby is doing nice job of jogging back and forth to each bedroom, doing her duty to protect Mom and me. am reminded of a dark and stormy November camping trip night with surprisingly fearful Doberman....also had wierd dream about Dom being the captain of a submarine with a dodgie ticker?!?...

in search of smiles

it's hard to explain, but french smiles are a rare and unpredictable thing. sometimes i wonder if they exist at all..like the Dodo bird or something. but i got one today! Madame Smokes' shop recently re-opened and i asked if her holiday was good...and got a brief glimpse of the illusive "frenchius smilius" in return for my fearless use of the french subjunctive.

now, if i could only figure out what it was she said in return.

what a relief

on September first, it was as if a door was slammed shut..everything here changed. the Mistral winds kicked up and blew away the heat and the tourists as well. i can just imagine it...short-pants wearing, beach-bag toting holiday makers blowing away in the wind! holidays came to a close, school started, and the heatwave ended all in one day. the locals and we long-term residents have our pleasant little town back. Monsieur Fromage, Madame Poulet, Monsieur and Madame Smokes, Mademoiselle Sandwiche and Alex-the-cafe-guy all have their cheerful, rested faces back on. and the chorus across the lane is practicing again..."OH HOPPY DAY!"

again, it's the little things. literally.

the best kind of friends are the ones who remember the little things that make you happy and then apply them regularly...nothing like mini gherkins to make my day. Liz is so thoroughly thoughtful. kinda took the edge off having to converse with a crazy person later in the evening.

mama mia! leava me-a alone-a!

little Italian mama driving me nuts continued...i've mentioned the first floor neighbors before...well, here today's installment of the story...the building was cut up for sale as individual apartments (condo-style) rather unfairly..the retired Italian couple on the first floor have a huge back garden, an extended kitchen with another terrace built (illegaly i might add) on top of it, the second floor apartment's original balcony (leaving it with none) AND ALL FOUR caves (basement storage rooms). which, though they claim it was just cleaning work..we know via the workers that they made those caves into extra guestrooms for their noisy grandkids (again, highly illegal). kinda piggy, don't ya think? not that i would mind really, i mean they paid for it, it is their home.

but this is an apartment building, a community...comprimise and neighborlyness required. (you can't leave the front street door open at all hours for instance just because you want a breeze in your place...which they do all the time, it's a SECURITY door people! as in keep it shut! and i know it was you that took down my very polite sign in three languages, that took me an hour, about keeping the street door closed)

but all they do is complain. ABOUT EVERYTHING. and they only stay here for three months out of the year! mom and i are the only ones who live here year round..the other three holiday apt. owners are happy to have us here for security, and seem to appreciate (in various languages) whatever help we can be and how gracious we are about the frequency of short term holiday renters coming and going and causing various amounts of disruption..we never complain, even that one week we had five drunken boat chicks partying all hours downstairs. so, why am i ranting about all this?

because, this morning, AGAIN, in her house-dress glory, she pounded (we have a bell like everyone else) on the door...i know she could hear i was in the shower..until i came out soaking wet. to hand me a bit of broken pot (about the size of a two euro coin) and look cross and wag her finger and give me a lecture for ten minutes in Italian. whaaa?

after apologizing profusely (for what?!?!) i went to investigate our balcony..well, the Mistral winds have kicked up again the past two days...the other night i brought in all the balcony furniture and put all the loose items, planters, etc. in safer positions. unfortunately, and entirely out of my control (it's the WIND!) a potted plant on the floor of the balcony tipped over and cracked..the wind blew a shard of it through the railing and down to the ground.

THAT WOMAN NEEDS TO FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO DO BESIDE DRIVE ME CRAZY. she should take up house-dress sewing or something. whew! this is a serious rant, maybe the heat is getting to me.

France vs. America

the bickering and media-hijinx continue...

pretty damn funny though, if you ask me.

the elderly of all types are falling victim to the heatwave

amidst more than ten thousand alleged heat-related deaths in France, a famous ancient tree at Versaille is lost as well.

and then my downstairs neighbor has the gall to complain (AGAIN) about the tiny little trickle of water the airconditioner in the bedroom makes in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. i only run it from about midnight to 5am so i can get a decent night's sleep. it drips down on to her GARDEN for christ's sake. and only once in awhile..last night was the first time it leaked in two weeks. but, first thing this morning..there she is, in all her housedress glory, pounding on the door and pitching a fit. in Italian. how do you say "give me a break lady, it's a 101 degrees and we're all suffering! and a little water isn't going to ruin your precious EMPTY terrace!" in Italian? did i mention she's never out there anyway?! ugh. ok, rant over.

why are the French so thin despite all the cheese?

ha! i've been saying this for years! (i would also add that the difference in car-usuage for everyday errands has something to do with it...the French are regularly on foot far more than Americans)

rain dance

a few days ago in the late-afternoon, the sky darkened behind the town towards the mountains and it looked like rain...it even thundered and was that ever delicious..but, alas..it didn't make it down to us on the coast...i cried. literally.

the endless heatwave and glaring sun were driving me batty. then, on Saturday, as we were peddling back down the river in the Gorge (thoroughly enjoying a dip in temperature and another in chilly river water) it happened again...lightening in the distance, thunder, rolling banks of gray clouds...and again, nothing! nature was just messin' with me.

but this morning, glory of glories...cloudy skies! and drizzle! i'm going back out to the balcony to sit in it.

dogs and kids

a little French girl shreeked and jumped away from Ruby (who was innocently occupied with wee-sniffing anyway) on our walk through the market area today..very unusual, i don't recall any other incident of dog-fear since we've been here...once, in Savannah, a grown 6ft man yelled at me from across the square, some 50 yards away, to "Keep that dog away from me!" um, ok. have you seen her? she's like a 17lb mouse with a waggy tail.

speaking of little french girls and Ruby...went round to R's for a doggie playdate and some dinner yesterday and her upstairs landlord's children were around, as usual...if i could put up with their pestering long enough, i'd learn a lot of french from them. i've certainly mastered "no!, don't do that!" "that's not nice!" "leave that alone!" "i told you already, don't!" "no, i don't want my hair done" "don't put your dirty feet on me!"

i love it when they tell Ruby to "Sid!"

cravings

i saw Bisquick at Geoffrey's English food store yesterday and couldn't pass it up...and then couldn't wait for breakfast..had pancakes with syrup for dinner. yum.

i miss relatively few American food items here (and when i am stateside, i hanker something fierce for french food)..but what does come to mind:
s'mores, Krispy Kremes, proper brats boiled in beer first, oh..speaking of beer..Leinie's, Grandma Eileen's peanut butter fudge, bagels with cream cheese, low country boil, cranberries, post-drinking-binge sunday brunch at Nautigal, a cheap slice at Vinny's, Dawn's gumbo, Chinese take out, enormous over-priced muffins with lots of nuts, fruit and calories in them, lemonade that doesn't fizz, and corn on the cob *.

*for reasons unknown, -corn- was on my mind, on my salad and in my conversation yesterday at lunch. all corn, all the time!

heatwave

cloudy and overcast today, a small relief from the heatwave, which continues to cause suffering and deaths here in France and throughout southern Europe. the air conditioner is now functioning (albeit with the help of plastic tubing, a square of poster board, the classic duct tape, a mop bucket, a bathmat and a watering can...long story!) in mom's bedroom, which you have already accurately assumed i am using in her absence.

spent the afternoon attempting to catch some of the infrequent breezes on the Smuggler Path on Cap d'Antibes which looks eerily like Cave Point in Door County, Wi.

note: previously unknown to me, a fear of/discomfort with hieghts also applies to viewing via goggles the dark, cavernous depths of the sea. (grimace)

when in doubt, just add a french accent

only an important errand would send me out into the blistering sun today...i need a large poster mailing tube so mom can bring home a number of my pieces as requested...

moi: excusez moi, svp, madame, je cherche un...un...um, continues like so in bumbling french: i need a thing like a box, but not a box, it's a circle instead and it goes into the mail but it's long and i have want to fly a painting to the usa and i don't know the word in french...(good god, what IS the french word for 'tube'?!?)

madame: une tube?

moi: bien sur, une tube.

they always say i have beautiful "eyes"...

;wueownnndm,fnaoieuwoi..rose..iweutiow...another bottle o rose.,jfwlkeuiu..tequilla?.jklje...an italian boy.jlkweoiu..mmoreitalianboys.lk..ajdiditrytospeakitalian?!?

aksjoiut...back to bed

at the drugstore (which doesn't actually have any drugs)

the french word for anti-dandruff is anti-pellaculaire. i like that; dandruff being peculiar.

why Nevada?

another dentist appointment this morning, this time to fill a cavity.(only one more left now) it's unseasonably hot here still, going on six weeks of record heat. today's small talk, pre-drilling:

"C'est trop chaud, n'est ce pas?" (Hot enough for ya?)
-"Oui, il fait trop chaud" (Yes, the weather is too hot.)
"C'est comme la vallee de mort! Las Vegas!" (It's like Death Valley! Las Vegas!)

so i had that to think about while sitting in the chair for the next hour.

dans de l'eau

two buildings down the lane, an older woman lives in an apartment on the same floor as ours (third if you're American, second if you're French). every night about this time she chucks a large bucket of water out the window to the pavement below. she's not watering her window boxes or throwing out dishwater mind you, she's just randomly chucking large quantities of water down to the street for no apparent reason. not at least any reason we can think of.

she hit a courting couple the other night. she does that with alarming frequency actually. maybe she does have a reason?

"we saw Lance!"

Le Tour de France (at our stop in the small ville of Trets) begins with an assortment of caravans, parade-like floats and vendors of yellow Tour merchandise...what is that devil float for? Bert searches for a prime viewing spot. Mom and Ruby try to find a bit of cooler shade, first on the ground, then in a palm plant. and, finally, there they are! i only had time to get pics of their behinds. the fellow in yellow is not actually Lance...he's in a different shade of yellow, out of frame (how was i to know?). all smiles! back to the hotel for some pool-time.

three hours of hot anticipation for two minutes of excitment. sound familiar?

Bastille Day

it's Bastille Day on Monday. it's a huge celebration weekend here of course, a long weekend..so most folks are off officially Friday thru Monday which means they'll also take Thursday and Tuesday off for traveling. so basically, all of France has this week off.

except of course, those on the Tour de France, which we are going to go see a little bit of on Tuesday..we head out tomorrow morning. i'm driving. i'm bringing duct tape for mom.

there are fireworks going off tonight, Ruby is scared. poor thing. Miss Dawn would love them though.

running behind

was going to be late this morning for a rendez-vous, to save time decided to do two things at once..walk the dog and pick up smokes. had Ruby on her morning-wee leash which is a reeled-up stringy thing that gives her more freedom, me less control. on way to tabac for cigs, she acted up at another doggie...i stopped walking and bent over to give her a talking-to when 'BUMP', oops! the fellow behind (directly behind my behind) me didn't notice and sort of, um well...bumped into me, in my bent over state. serious contact (!), and he put his hands on my hips to keep us both from falling completely over.

was that a date?

ouvrez, svp

another visit to the dentist, number 4 of 5. i'm not sure what he did exactly, only know that it involved my sensitive gums, pointy things, and pain.

oh, and i need two more appointments to take care of some minor cavaties, not part of the original plan, but ok. i'm game.

franglais

i picked up my dusty french book last night for some review. i had spent some time this past weekend at a french-heavy BBQ and wanted to clarify a few phrases. the standard book isn't much help. i need to find one that teaches useful things like: -"Has that mayo salad gone bad in the sun?"

Le Tour

Le Tour de France is coming up, Mom and Bert are keen to see the Gap-Marseille leg (about 2-3 hours drive from here), though it is far too late to get hotel accomodation. hm, camping? that i would pay to see!

salle climatisse

word is the McMullen family reunion was a big hit, fun was had by all..and even the St.Louis summer weather was cooperative..not too hot and muggy.

it's hot and muggy here..hottest June on record. mom bought a portable airconditioning unit, which is supposed to cool down at least the livingroom. any minute now, yep, it's going to feel cooler in here. any second..just have to wait...

splat. (me, hitting tile floor in puddle of sweat, victim of heatstroke)

le dentist

i'm probably totally embarassing myself with all of these pictures of dental work, but anything for family (Aunt Anna)! another two hours in the chair this morning, but what a difference! (very hard to convey in photos, desole) "Je fais des sculptures" as my dentist says. pic one before, pic two after steps one and two, last pic after today's step three. (the spaces between will diminish, that's from having to keep the composite separate)
two more appointments to go, but i'm not sure what else he's going to do?!
by the way, my dentist does a pretty good rendition of "God Bless America".

livin' the riviera life

Suzanne, Jack and i spent the morning and early afternoon at Hotal Royal Beach. it spoils you for public beaches forever...chaise lounges (with cushions), large umbrellas, side tables, fresh sand, clean water, beach-side drinks service, showers and changing rooms...we didn't have any Rose, but maybe next time...

i happily floated around in the sea water while Jack and Suzanne took out one of those rented foot paddle boats, complete with its own slide...

more Gorge-ousness

ventured on a car trip into the mountains today to escape the heat and humidity in Antibes...had a lovely traditional french lunch (including cheese course, my favorite) in Coursegoules, drove back through the picturesque Gorges du Loup. in short: Suzanne isn't so keen on heights, i'm a pretty damn good driver (just watch that rolling back in idle thing), Jack can find pommes frites anywhere, Bert is crabby before his first cup of coffee, Mom isn't such a bad back seat driver afterall, a GPS thingy-ma-bob is always handy (we were up to 3500ft), and once again, Ruby is the best traveler of all.

too hot to think of a clever title

mom enjoys lunch with the ladies (International Women of the Riveria) at La Chateau de La Napoule
Corner; watercolor, graphite and oil pastel on paper, 9" x 16"

like, i'm gonna like totally tell you to shut up

we had to hang our heads in shame at our favorite sandwich stand the other day as a gaggle of bikini-clad American cheerleader-type teenage girls (has anything more cringe-worthy ever been created?) nearly assaulted our beloved Madame Sandwiche (no relation to Madame Poulet). no Bonjours, no pleases or thank yous, not even in English. imagine overly loud voices, grabby hands, and a complete lack of manners:

"like, can i like see that?" "SEE it, you know like SEE it?" "what is that, like chicken?" "is that like tuna or something?" "gross" "no, i don't want it now, it's got like, too many calories" "yeah, like let's go somewhere else" "yeah, totally"

i thought Madame was going to throw a baguette at their sunglassed-orthodentisted-Avedaed-ipoded heads. i would have applauded.

dental update

indeed, step one was a bear afterall...after the initial numbness wore off, it feels as if my gums were peeled away from my teeth (oh, right, they were!) and the roof of my mouth now most closely resembles raw hamburger meat. trust me, the roots of your front teeth exposed is something you never want to see.

Bert: "Ask any really old person and they'll say 'Take care of your teeth!'"

just returned from the dentist...step one of five done. he's fixing that problem i've had with the six front teeth that were veneered 13 years ago in some sort of composite that was prompty discontinued because it failed quickly and discolored beyond repair, not to mention that mine were done way to thickly, nearly gave me a lisp. typical of my luck. i've had quotes over the years that ranged from moderately insane to as much as i paid for my first new car. luckily this time, he's very good, and very reasonably priced. even with airfare, it's a tenth of the price to have your teeth fixed in france!

step one wasn't too bad...preparing the gums..basically, cutting them back so that he can get to the whole surface of the tooth for step two next Tuesday, which sounds gruesome...grinding away all the old composite. and leaving it that way for a week! sorry, i am not posting pictures of that!

gorge-ous

Gorges du Verdon, lac Esparon (Verdon Canyon, Lake Esparon)

i went canoeing (or kayaking if you are british) today! don't laugh out loud please. seriously, i got in a little canoe with two other gals (Rachael and Vicky) and two dogs (Ruby and Napoleon) and rowed down a river. without tipping the canoe, screaming bloody murder or fussing about wet hair. really, i did.

the problem with getting all your information from the movies

went to the dentist the other day, i've seen many dentists the last few years...but this is my first french one. he speaks some english, with deadly comic timing.
he asked (as did all the office staff) what part of the states i'm from.

"oh, i'm from Chicago"
"oo, Meeshigan?"
"um, no, Illinois"
"Lahs Veegaahs?"
"what?"
"I ahdore Lahs Veegaahs!!"
"um, ok, that's cool"

disclaimer: i use Chicago as the simplest blanket answer. you try explaining," Well, I grew up in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin but we spent weekends in Chicago, and I went to boarding school north of Chicago and then again in another town south of FdL, then I spent two years on my own in Chicago, then moved back to Wisconsin but to Madison this time for five years, but most recently, I've been living in Savannah, Georgia for the last five years." in french.

bless 'em for tryin'

a local choral group meets across the street (which here means six feet away) every week to practice what seems to be a collection of american folk and gospel songs. today's set had a new number...i'm not sure if it's the title, but the repeated line is "oh, happy day.." (if you know the one, email me the details)...well, with a french accent, it comes out more like, with feeling now: "OH HOPPY DAY!..." i'm still chuckling.

otherside of the digital camera

i was getting complaints (um, comments) that there weren't enough pictures of moi on the blog...being as i am usually behind the camera. so, mom obliged my vanity with a few nice shots of me and miss Ruby (and dazed Uncle Bert) at Le Cameo, our usual afternoon gomme (light beer with lemon syrup, very good in hot weather) cafe this afternoon. note lack of large glasses...contacts are also good in hot weather.

something you never wanted to know about boating

i've been swimming in the sea (at the Gravette and Salis beaches, just around the corner) a few times, was looking forward to making it a regular thing..i love the water, and ooh...floating in warm salt water, view of the old town, hot sunny beach..lovely, right?

mom and bert informed me last night during their usual two hour boat spiel that the Antibes harbor, Port Vaubon, one of the biggest on the med (4,000 berths!) does not have processing facilities. as in waste management. as in every one of those boats has to dump their chemical-ized waste OVERBOARD.

i've been swimming in a giant toilet.

hot, sweaty foot in mouth

i was warned that it gets mighty hot around here in the summertime, but i brushed it off..no biggie..i'm used to the tropics of Savannah (up to high 90's, 100% humidity, overnight lows in the 70's)! i made one major miscalculation...air conditioning. it doesn't exist here.

Ruby is a little black puddle on the tile floor from noon to three. i see very clearly now why everyone closes up shop and heads home for siesta mid-day.

gallerie d'Antibes

CLICK ON IMAGE FOR LARGER VIEW IN NEW WINDOW

Aunt Suzanne and Cousin Jack are coming to visit us in two weeks! we are all very excited, have many outings planned...the beach, the boat, a little gambling, etc. Jack so enjoyed the postcard of Antibes i sent earlier, i thought he (and anyone else who wants to visit!) would like another preview. enjoy!

homage to fromage

this one is for Miss Dawn..remember that expensive habit i left you with? (in the form of the leftover goat's cheese from my fridge). you ain't had nothing like this baby! it is young goats cheese, delicately sweet and wrapped in white raisins..it's like creamy dessert meets cheese meets white wine spritzers...absolutely gorgeous. would that tempt you into a visit? we could savor together the wonder that is the french cheese universe.

coffee on the beach

ah, the sublime, sophisticated life i lead. spent the afternoon today sunning on the beach, took a dip in the sea, enjoyed a proper espresso (complete with little cups and little stir spoons from the beach-side vendor trucks!). this is so fabulous i'm thinking, i am so fabulous in my hot pink sunglasses and my sporty bikini is working the cleavage just right (just keep all movement to a minimum to reduce jiggling), my choice of beach reading is just funny and clever enough to impress should anyone (english speaking and preferably male) glance to read the cover, my ensemble is tastefully co-ordinated without being 'matchy', i'm tan and shiny and i ordered my espresso in french..i am just too fabulous!..all this i am thinking...until my beach partner informed me that my smart new beach towel was shedding blue fuzzies...all over. i had neglected to wash it before the first use, i was so excited to use it, it really is very smart looking. combine salt water, suntan lotion and cheap chinese fabric dye and what do you get? a not so sophisticated blue backside.

thwarted again

our plans to visit Haut de Cagnes (gorgeous little nearby town) were dashed by the continuation of the huge strike (en greve) across France...it has even made the international news..Paris was jammed by 600km of gridlock as folks tried to get into work, shopping, etc in their cars...no trains, buses, flights, poste, and so on...

Ruby seems despondant as well...i think she was looking forward to having the house to herself today.

maybe i should get a scooter, or is that asking for euro-death?

my attempt to go up to the studio in La Colle sur Loup was thwarted this morning by the french national pasttime...the buses are en greve..again.

culture exhange

ran into my french teacher Sihame today, we had a coffee and a nice chat. she's forever curious about american culture (she watches all the wrong american movies and takes them literally). our conversations never fail to have an exchange similiar to this one:
-"ees it true dat everyone in ze u.s. 'as ze compooter in ze 'ous?"
-"pas de tout, mais tout les gens, particularment les jeunes a les ordinateurs dans les maisons, oui."
remember when she believed the one about american airline companies spraying newly arrived europeans with disinfectant at the international terminal at JFK? she amuses me. and i rather enjoy dispelling her misconceptions, even better when done in very bad french. she forgives me that. she does not, however, forgive my explanation of "personal space".

les bicyclettes

i just adore this group of senior cyclists...they meet every wednesday morning in Place de Gaulle (every town has one) for a serious ride on the busy, winding roads...buses, cars and age be damned.

check out that serious gear.

excursion

had an excursion to a gorgeous middle-ages village, Haut de Cagnes, today...walked around the old centre ville, enjoyed the view from the chateau and took a minute to do a quick sketch of an interesting arched lane.

spinster in the making

the weather has turned sour today, a nasty wind out of the mountains and cold rain. but that does not deter the french! in the streets, everyone is out walking and doing their regular daily shopping...baguette, cigarettes, flowers...mom and i included.

i've taken up crochet again, after many many years...mom re-taught me a few nights ago, and i am off and running. i am so domestic, can you stand it? imagine the scene: glass of port on the table, dog at my feet, crochet in my hands, in my slippers by 9! and mom right next to me, doing The Jumble! is it possible that i am retired?

last night, i went to

last night, i went to a ....singles night. i wasn't sure what i had gotten myself into when i accepted the invite, i never pass up the chance to go out for a drink with folks my age. but a singles night?

it was fabulous! i met more eligible, dateable men in three hours than i had met in the last three years! all had jobs, lives, flats, personalities, and manners! (and the all important EU status) i should receive an email later today letting me know who is interested...oh, the possibilities!