(the misadventures of an expatriate corporate dropout)
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
so, Jean-Yves and I have had less time together since August ... he has been working on a project he took on (renovation) in Perigueux and I have been manning the store ... it hasn't been easy since his companionship is so agreeable and we have so much fun together on our various projects... I soldier on and try not to complain too much.
it was a treat when he arrived one morning recently and asked me to go to a home renovation fair being held in Perigueux. I had driven by it and wasn't sure exactly what was happening there, from the outside all that could be seen was a big slide and some tents ... was it a carnival? or ??
so, I hastily got my act together and jumped in the car ... we were off! I did my usual 15 minutes of continuous blah blah blah, catching him up (painfully) in french on various events. we wandered through the fair ... which was not very different from similar events you'll see in the US. Big halls with various vendors displaying the latest in paving, windows, siding, stone, solar and other heating, kitchen design etc etc etc and there were also garden displays and pools and camping cars and etc etc etc
consumerism and the push for the 'latest' improvement are insidiously making their way here...I hope the crise kills them in their tracks ...
we agreed we preferred a boat with hammocks to escape with.
from there we went in to Bourdeilles for a nice walk about and lunch. after lunch, unbeknownst to me Jean-Yves had spied a small sign for a secret garden. we followed the trail to a 'calabasas garden' ... which was a lovely spot filled with all sorts of exotic gourds ... small trails, interesting garden art and designs. we wandered around, oohing and ahhing and appreciating nature's beauty. afterwards, we entered the studio where the owner 'transformed' gourds into less than appealing chatchkas and sold them. There were various containers fashioned from gourds, with lids cut and flowers painted on. there were sugar and creamer bowls and pencil pots and lamps.
what appealed to us was the high shelf surrounding the ceiling, where untouched gourds were laid in different stages of drying ... awaiting their transformation fate. one in particular caught mon monsieur's eye. he caressed its shape and admired its spotted design ... where rains had played upon the skin and colored it.
we returned home, content with a day in each other's company. I do miss him so.
I returned a few days later and begged the owner to sell me that one special gourd. when I first arrived, he was pleased when I told him I came back to by a surprise for my companion. when I pointed up to the gourd he shook his head adamantly. Non, those were meant to be transformed. I could buy any of the after-gourds on display. I pouted and equally shook my head. non, mon copain aimer cette gourd, naturelle. we went back and forth a bit and then I made my regrets and turned to leave.
he relented and the pretty gourd was mine for a song. coincidentally, that same day, JY phoned to ask the name of the hamlet where the garden was. bussac. later on he learned it was that day I ventured off for his surprise.