freezing!

I have been SO cold all day, it is painful!

yes I have heat etc. but for some reason I just haven't been able to get warm ... hand and feet of ice. un peu de misére!

JY started a new project/client in Brantôme last Friday and we have been sharing morning coffee and lunch. so much is going on with mon monsieur and his spirits have been somewhat low. Not sleeping well hasn't helped him much. Monday, he brought his chainsaw and trimmed trees as well as cut up the big old pear tree that fell in the winter's storms. I spent the afternoon hauling and stacking wood, pruning up all the fallen branches and stacking them for kindling, and doing general yard cleanup. 3 hours of good exercise.

Yesterday, we decided to forego working...fired up 2 heaters in the kitchen and just hung out, surfed online, etc.

I made us a nice lunch with good wine and afterwards we started off for a walk around town that ended up being a 10+km hike in the hills for about 3 hours. (It was a bit warmer yesterday and the walking stirred our blood and body temps!). By the end of our 'balade', he was smiling and in better spirits. He returned home to his first good night's sleep in weeks. Bon! for both of us the activity and fresh air does wonders!

And today the temperature has dipped. The most activity I could muster up motivation for was washing my windows and vacuuming. I'm hoping after lunch I'll feel warmer? more energetic? and will boot my own butt back out to the garden to plant the lavender and hydrangeas I bought. and maybe mow the grass.

The sun seems to be peeking out but it is still so cold.....Jean-Yves made me a big fire plus we had some pineau de charente to try and kick-start some bloodwarming....

I'm having guests for lunch on Sunday and I'm going to do an Indian feast of sorts. I'm planning lamb curry, kashmiri chicken, aloo gobi, raita, salad, naan and can't decide on dessert...found a wonderful recipe for cardamom and nut ice cream but in this glacial weather, don't know. maybe a simple fromage blanc with an interesting coulis. also need something fun for a starter. ideas?

another Saturday night and ...

another week under the belt ... got a little of this and a little of that going on.

Jean-Yves and I have spring fever and winter is on its way back (maybe another round of snow in the coming week!!) the minute the sun peeks out we drop everything and follow the rays ... as deceptive as they might be.

we chase rainbows and brainstorm and plot escapes and dream even bigger dreams, giggling as we conspire.

We had a truly disheartening lunch ... we were on our way to a favorite little café near the river in Perigueux when monsieur decided he craved "Thai" (HA, like that exists in Perigueux) and dragged me back to a pseudo-chinese/thai/suzy wan affair. To make matters worse, it was close to 2:00 and they serve buffet-style, consequently everything had been sitting there for awhile. Their 'nems' and 'spring rolls' were past their prime. Their gloppy sauces were congealing. There was one semi-tasty chicken dish (basically fried chicken pieces) and some noodles that were passable. There was a dry fried prawn dish that might have been okay when first it was served ... but had gone a bit damp and rubbery.

somebody needs to clue me in to the asian hole-in-the-wall, authentic restaurant that must exist in Perigueux. There is a sufficient number of Asian inhabitants to warrant that. The 2 I know of are industrialized, watered down messes with horribly cranky (asian) employees.

Afterwards, we died of thirst all afternoon, most likely due to the high salt and MSG content. erg.

then we went over to Decathlon (a sporting goods store) and tried on a million things for a thousand different sports and cracked ourselves up. purchased nary a stitch! on to another shoe store ... where for a millisecond I was aflutter, viewing the sign 'troisieme pair, 1€'... only to realize that I had no need nor budget for 3 pairs of new shoes ... even if the 3rd pair were only 1€! my how times have changed!

we then meandered through Grand Frais (the closest thing to Whole Foods in the French countryside ...), I bought some cilantro and lemongrass (!!) and then we shared a coffee and more laughs.

another day, JY brought lunch here ... heh heh ... we started with pickled pig's trotters, french style (!) ... continued with rabbit and cepes in creme sauce. I pitched in a salad and rice. After coffee, we hiked up in the hills behind Brantôme for about an hour or so... there are at least half a dozen well marked routes surrounding our village ... most with some fine views and all in the country air.

This week I've pretty much wrapped up garden clean-up in my big yard ... I've burned several huge piles of clippings. I planted four espaliered apple trees. I have lavender and hydrangeas to put in ... but I'm waiting a week or 2 in case the predicted snow arrives. I've also got potatoes to plant. JY started to rototill (tested the tiller to make sure it survived a winter partially exposed to the elements) and all systems are go to dig up this year's garden plot.

We're working on getting a little online shop up and running ... where I can post some of my favorite frenchy finds at good prices ... and maybe some furniture stuff for locals ... and who knows what else?

Today I biked 20km, spent 3 hours in upholstery class working on my chair, made a pot of chicken tikka masala ... and I'm still debating if music is on tonight's agenda.

I've got to be in the garden, on the bike, or doing some physical labor in the shop daily ... spring is just around the corner which means summer (and swimsuits) are not much further on the horizon....

wheeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

riana inspired stairway ...

well, I've been doing some micro-projects in my house that I can manage on my own. Micro mostly because they can be accomplished in stages and are within my own capabilities. When I reach a point that I am out of my league, I pause and move on to something else.

I've been working on my stairwell. It is a typically french affair with wood steps, cheesy (before) wainscoting and who-knows-when plastered walls. The ceiling is also curvy because there is an identical stairway leading to the 3rd floor attic.

Last summer, JY started on plastering the walls above the wainscoting. Then I continued with the sanding. The problem is, there is one-third of the wall that he didn't do because he was also working on updating the electricity through that wall and so there remains a section of torn out wallboard ... behind which were old bricks which remained exposed.

This is an example of "out of my league". but I was sick and tired of looking at this unfinished area. I hadn't started on the stairs because I was waiting on the wall replacement. followed by plastering. and then a solution for the cheesy wainscoting.

I decided to move forward with the wainscoting and the stairs and the hell with the plastering for now. I covered the one wall that had the hole/exposed brick, using some old velour curtains that are ochre in color. not my favorite...but better than the hole and also helps insulate a bit (the hole leads into an unused, unheated room).

I then decided replacing the wainscoting is not in any existing budget, so I used cheap white paint, then sanded to distress and finished with a varnish coat. I then sanded (using a hand-held electric sander) all of the stair surfaces, filling holes with some weird wood filler (never found the same putty-like stuff we have in the states). It is like wet sand. It sucks.

I was going to then varnish everything (I left the risers stained, no sanding). but I was perusing Riana's flickr page and was inspired by her red cement stairs. I decided to paint the risers in my stairwell a Bordeaux red. Today I applied the varnish coat and wax to the stairwell. I'm really pleased with the progress so far. Right now, it still ALL looks unfinished and shabby, but with freshly painted walls and ceiling ... I think it will come together nicely. maybe not as pretty as Riana's, given her gorgeous antique curtained entry...but still.

I intend to paint the walls above the wainscoting an olive green ... and, based on my inspired daughter's recommendation...go with a soft grey on the ceiling ... which picks up the same soft grey on the walls of my bedroom.

The painting will happen after the plastering is done.

Jean-Yves has an upcoming small job with a client that involves wallboard and plastering. I'm going to propose I 'apprentice' myself to him for a few days and then try to tackle the remaining work in my stairwell.

the adventure continues! (I'll keep you posted on this particular micro-project's progress...)

what I'm hoping for in 2010 ...

I've never been big on resolutions, especially for the New Year. I mean, I've always kind of just tried to do whatever it is I want to do or make a plan for something I want to achieve and then start trying to get to it somehow, whatever the time of year ... NY resolutions always seem so self-abusive somehow...

kind of, "these are all the things wrong with me and/or my life that I must change next year because I've been such a loser this year and gotten all f'd up ... ( e.g., I weigh too much, I drink too much, I don't do this or that right, or I do too much of that )".

so ... for all of you who still have a need for resolutions for yourselves, I have some for you: be kinder to yourself in 2010...dream more...give yourself more attagirls...let go of your regrets...ask yourself how can I versus telling yourself why you shouldn't...stick your tongue out at your fears or better yet, give them a hug (I discovered once I get really cozy with my fears, they really just aren't that scary ... ) ...dream even a little more, I know but its worth repeating (you'll be shocked at what dreaming can lead to ... !!) oh, and here's one ... stop being such a grown-up ALL the time! be silly! try smiling more (I do this even when I'm cranky...its funny how hard it is to stay cranky when your mouth is smiling!)

just love yourselves you beautiful, loveable people! more love never hurt anyone ...

the many risks of living alone.

I am regularly provided insights into how I shall surrender my mortality.

Living alone is kind that way. in bits here and there, we are given glimpses ... us solitary residents. somehow, it feels like missus earth is feeding us crumbs to prepare us ... so when we are there, dying alone, we will be somewhat more prepared.

I'm a "six feet under" fan. you other gentle viewers will know that each episode commences with a scene of a death. one of their episodes which resonated with me is that of a woman ... I'd guess early 50s, who returns home alone to her small apartment, prepares her microwave-ready dinner, sits down alone at her dining table and proceeds to choke to death ... all alone. (this too reminds me of the helpfullness of a dear friend, who emailed me instructions on self-administration of the Heimlich Maneuver ... and how to self-provide CPR.)

in any event, nary a week passes where I do not experience some sort of near-death miss. whether it is a stairwell slip ... that I either recover from at the last moment ... or somehow less than gracefully manage to break my fall and experience the lesser of 2 evils ... deep and long lasting bruising vs. broken bones or neck.

some of my friends must harbor worries on my behalf...although they won't come clean and actually speak the fateful words, they regularly provide tips and techniques for calamity avoidance.

when my dear friends David and Kathleen were visiting last year, they assisted with the delivery of a huge truckload of logs for my fireplace. we stacked and stacked and then had the opportunity to build a fire on a chilly morning. It was apparent that the wood was still a bit damp and unsuitable for easy burning.

David graciously purchased a log splitter tool with a long handle and very heavy, very sharp head. It is nearly too heavy for me to hoist, but of course I tried...wobbily. David also split a large amount of logs for me, creating kindling pieces to aid in getting my fires going.

When JY observed me attempting to use this tool, a panicked expression filled his brow. "Kim-bear-lay! N'utilisez pas cet outil. c'est trop dangereux. si tu as besoin de bois pour se dédoubler, demandez-moi!!! Serieusement!!!". He was convinced I would cut off a foot.

Okay. fine, I decided this time he might be right. Winter and summer passed. Fall is here and I have the need of more kindling. I thought if I bought a hatchet.... Safer, right? I mean it is a tenth of the size of the splitter. I'm a camper. I can do it.

Well. Somehow I escaped hacking off my left hand. I was using it to steady a small log as I chopped with my right hand. A few misses of the mark, but I pressed on ... and with a stroke aimed, went left and the blade landed squarely between my forefinger and thumb. Not sure how, but it only broke the skin and caused a bleed as opposed to severing my thumb. Now, a few days later, I have a large triangular bruise and much soreness.

I've reflected in the meantime on this close call. A cut next to a large vein in my hand. Alone. of a cold morning. wondering if I'd have the presence of mind to suppress the bleeding, locate the emergency number, get me to a hospital or ambulance.

now wasn't the moment. but for many years now I've suspected a like moment will arise.

I guess there's more than the lack of regular sex to bemoan when one is single. morbidly single.

not so trigger happy.

so I did some research and apparently I have acquired trigger finger. yep, in both of my so called 'ring' fingers ... so called cos it has been nearly 30 years since anyone put a ring on it. but I digress.

trigger finger is when one or more fingers 'locks' at the joint ... sort of stays in position and snaps or clicks when you try to straighten it. with some people, they cannot unlock it ... thankfully that hasn't happened. but to compound matters, on my left hand it is now apparently combined with more severe symptoms, maybe arthritis? just ask me, dr. kim ... as long as my 9 other digits can enter words in the google box, I'll give a diagnosis.

I should probably amble down to le medecin ... I've determined that a shot of cortisone might aid the situation. It is somewhat painful, particularly in the morning when I can barely bend my finger. Conversely....how often is a ring finger put into action? kind of reminds me of that old joke ...

man goes to a doctor and says, "Doc, it really hurts when I do this ... ".

Doc, "well then, don't do that ... !"

ba da bing, ba da boom.

the change in weather has also seemed to exacerbate it.

I've been holding out for receipt of my Carte Vitale (health card) which supposedly will ease the whole Doctor's visit process ... it should be coming any day ... or week ... now.

is this what aging feels like? pfffffffft.

still trying to figure it all out. alfie.

a respite from the this happened today-garden-variety post. maybe the change in seasons makes us more contemplative ... dunno.

today I'm appreciating the flowers my monsieur, Jean-Yves, spontaneously bought me yesterday. and relishing our continued relationship ...

if anyone would have told me a couple of years ago that I would be living a french life, I would have scoffed. and yet here I am. and now that I am here, I am trying to determine just what this life should be ... or more about what it means and where it is headed. for while I am doing so much better at living in the moment, I also want to understand what the moments add up to.

I've got some new friends and a new, decrepit house. I am in love and yet still alone. I don't have to mount the corporate treadmill daily and yet am afraid if it returns to that. I live in a beautiful country, a beautiful region and am learning a beautiful new language. My health has improved with this move and despite my age. In so many ways, I feel better about myself than ever before. Some days I think I know where my compass points and others, not so sure.

I have launched new pursuits and am contemplating others. But I've sacrificed some perceived securities for these endeavors and am uncertain how the coming years will support me.

I find that most days I am the cheerleader. For me. for those I love. and for new friends. I've discovered that more things are the same than are different here. But those differences are huge and lean more towards my esprit de corps than in the U.S.

in some ways, my adventure is shared. in many ways, it is unveiled in solitude.

well. life is but the search. the longing for. the gnawing in our center that spurs us on towards the undiscovered.

just keep showing up, Kim ...

snail good!

had a fun week-end. friday, sat'day, sunday ... social outings neach day!

friday night I was invited to my neighbor's house (french) for a gal's night. It was me and four french women ... daunting, to say the least.

I still don't seem to have mastered etiquette for the various french affairs. this was more than aperitif ... and I was asked to bring wine. I picked a couple of bottles of red from my own stock ... and crossed my fingers. a couple of hours before the event, a knock at my door and neighbor's daughter inquired if I had any cheese I could bring as well. I searched the fridge and came up with some feta and some goat cheese with herbs.

later on I arrived with 2 more kinds of cheese I found, and my wine. my feta cubes were on offer with aperitif wine, so that seemed to be okay. my wine was quickly reviewed and put up on the shelf in favor of others ... I get the impression that everyone here knows more about the french wine than I ... and that I rarely hit upon the best match for the occasion.

the other guests began to arrive and the conversation began. one gal was belgian and I confess if I understood 10-15 percent of what she had to say that night, I am being generous. the first to arrive was also Perigordine ... and spoke rapid fire ... but I still understood more.

when any of them engaged me 1:1, I did better. but when you are in a setting like that, everyone is conversing. can I also say that much of the time they spoke at the same time! exhausting! ha, but at the same time good for me. I lasted until midnight and by then was just over it in terms of trying to keep up with what was being discussed. I started to zone out and so bid my adeus. When I returned home and let the dogs out, I could hear them all still laughing in the garden. over digestifs. more than anything, I was thankful to have been included ... :P

another entertaining fact about the evening occurred when we all went outside for a smoke on the terrasse. Nicole flipped the light on and there were probably about 8-12 snails slithering about. one of the guests oohed and ahhed and immediately began collecting them. she then asked for a torch (flashlight) and a container and proceeded to search further about the garden, delighted to be retrieving so many escargots! that's right, she filled up the equivalent of an ice cream container, snapped on the lid and put them aside to be taken home for 'cuisiner!' ...

won't see THAT in the good ol' you ess of ay!

(here's a link to preparation methods, if you have a bunch and are so inclined ...)

trippy dippy.

(this is a drawing Nate did during our wanders 'round Bordeaux) ...

In addition to my cousin and daughter as visitors, I hosted a half-young couple ... Isabelle and Toby. Isabelle has been a best friend of my daughter since they were 5 years old. I have memories of them playing with My Little Ponies in our little 2 room apartment in the hinterlands of San Pablo, California. I remember going to dinner at her mom's house for my first encounter with phö ... delicious savory soup. Johnelle and "Izzy" have stayed close through the years, attending the same school until high school, working for Whole Foods and swapping tales and now, living in the same apartment building.

Isabelle is engaged to Toby, a very colorful character...he's a musician and sometimes victim of arrested development. He reminds me of a cross between Keith Richards and Steve Carrell's character "Michael" from The Office.

It was kind of funny, our day trip to Bordeaux. Between my cousin Nate's bohemian bearded artist look and Toby's glazed rocker dude appearance (complete with light make-up) ... accompanied by two beautiful young women ... we made quite the five-some strolling the passageways of old Bordeaux.

We set up camp at a cool bar/restaurant and were treated to a round of digestif after our big lunch and 2 bottles of wine. The host/bartender didn't quite know what to make of our group, but he had fun trying. I had visions of sightseeing and such, they had visions of drinking and such. Needless to say, I was outnumbered ...

in case you're interested ...

this whole life transformation thing isn't cheap ... when you pull up stakes, transport yourself to another country and try and live a dream ... sans income ... it adds up!

well, I've spent many posts here waxing poetic regarding my new life, my new village, etcetera etcetera ... and now that I've launched my boutique, I've come upon a sweet little booklet highlighting the real scoop on my new home of choice ... Brantôme.

If you'd like to support my adventure ever so slightly, and receive something in exchange... (the book described below) ... drop me a comment or an email via the blogger contact info here and I'll send you a book. It is on offer in my store for only 10 euros ... I'm set up on PayPal so that would make it simple. Ten euros plus shipping and its all yours! Don't make me resort to one of those donation buttons ... cause I will if I must! (lol).

The new book is on offer in our new shop, The Bohemians. It is called "Brantome ... Ancient, Mystical, Sacred" is co-authored by Angela Clarke and Didier Bouillet. It is 32 pages, with highlights of the best features of our village.

The book focuses on the history of sacred sites in Brantôme ... from the first inhabitants of 4000 BC until today. It includes lovely photographs and serves as a pretty memento of the important aspects of this picturesque village.

Angela is a British author who lives near Brantôme. She recently completed her first novel, 2012 The Symphony. Didier owns a shop in Brantôme, "L'Arbre du Voyageur' and has lived all over the world before settling near Perigueux.

poetic respite ...

was recently reminded of how I love Pablo Neruda ... thought I'd share my favorite poem of his ... as a little amuse bouche until I ready to serve the next course of my Parisian feast ...

Your feet.

When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.

paris by storm ...

as mentioned, I went up Paris way for a few days. I had to visit the embassy and Jean-Yves convinced me to take a few extra days and 'profiter'!

I stayed with his mom and daughter in a suburb of Paris. I made a quite organized departure ... dogs handled, drove myself to the Perigueux train station and JY retrieved the car later that day.

Once launched, it was fairly smooth sailing. I must say, the trains are a pleasure here. Well maintained and punctual. The stations are easily accessed and I've never had a problem finding parking.

I don't think I did the best job coordinating my tickets and transfers. Unbelievably, I've not been to Paris (the city proper) since I moved here. I didn't really reflect on much, just went on line and bought the ticket that sounded right. JY had mentioned the Gare du Nord but I couldn't find a direct train there from the south so went in to Gare Montparnasse (south of Paris) and then bought the next leg (Gare du Nord to Chambly). There were 20 minutes between the arrival and departure.

HA!

Hadn't bothered to sort out the metro till I was on the train there and started looking at the metro map. Also of course forgetting I was arriving in an RER station ... not the metro ... which isn't a big deal other than walking to find your line etc.

I was rushing thinking I needed to try and make the train or buy another ticket. Of course, it was impossible to do in 20 minutes, but as I sat on the metro train for the umpteen stops between Montparnasse and Gare du Nord, I (finally) read the small print on the ticket and realized the ticket was good for two weeks, any time. phew!

It all worked out, I arrived about an hour later than I expected but that was good because then Noèmie was able to retrieve me (JY's daughter). I also now know that I can walk from the Chambly station to Madame's house if needed (for future visits!!!).

This was done on a Wednesday and my appointment at the embassy was Thursday. I planned to get going fairly early so I could have a day in my much beloved city.

I packed 2 or 3 days worth in that Thursday! I had lunch with Jennifer C of No Place Like It, drinks with another dear Parisienne, dinner with Noèmie ...

I started at Place de la Bastille, emerging from the metro station to a glorious sunny day and that wonderful Parisian electricity in the air. First stop was an internet café (erg, I know!) to retrieve some phone numbers I'd forgotten. Yes, lunch confirmed with Jennifer. Yes, I reached Lucille and drinks tonight would be perfect! Yes, dinner was on! Yes, this was where I was supposed to be at this exact moment! I left as quickly as possible and ran out to hug my favorite city on earth.

I walked to the Marais and soaked up a few quick bits ... there was the corner café opposite the fruit market where I flirted outrageously with a handsome frenchman who became a years-long friend. here was the heartachingly lovely Place des Vosges where I've sat in the sun, walked in the snow, weathered the rain as I dashed amongst the arches. Le Pick-Clops, a fun corner bar and café. Yes, the presse I've visited year-in, year-out ... still reliably there. Dashed in and bought a new Moleskine in tomato red!


Looked at my watch, screeched a bit and descended into the St. Paul metro station to make my way for lunch. I thought I was so smart with selecting my station, since I was meeting Jennifer near the Arc de Triomphe. Had time (I thought..) for a bit of a stroll up the Champs Elyseés and even snapped a photo of myself sticking out my tongue, with the Arc behind me and texted it to JY with the caption "Je suis Japonaise!" (inside joke).

But I looked and looked for the 'quiksilver' Jenn had told me was our rendez-vous point. Finally, as I was now late, I called her. Well I had it all topsy-turvy, not knowing the Parisian argot re: the Champs and which was top and which was bottom. We found each other easily after that and marched off for a tasty bistro lunch. We laughed our way through much of it and while I was debating dessert, she doublechecked her watch and informed me I wouldn't have time ... in fact, I would probably need to hustle for a 2pm appointment.

It was a treat to finally get to meet her after coming to know her through her writing and wonderful artwork. Her contagious laugh and similar wit won me over right away!

I did have to rush to make it to the embassy on time. Once there, I ran across the street what I thought was the entrance and was apprehended by 3 gendarmes with their hands up and stern expressions. No, this was not the entrance and they were not swayed by my smile. One softened ever so slightly and pointed out the correct spot. There was a phalanx of French gendarmes surrounding the perimeter. Interestingly, french cops seem to favor those same reflector-style sunglasses that american cops are so fond of. I hurried on and upon arrival and reading the long list of forbidden items ... I was once again worried. I had everything but the kitchen sink in my bag and apparently it was all wrong! Of course, I understand the Laguiole knife (I know, I know), and the cell phone and camera. But all of my make-up? My paracetimol tabs? matches, cigs, well basically I should have just handed him my purse to keep. Fortunately, my assigned guard was kind of cute and also somewhat amused by the assortment of doo-dahs. He read all the make-up labels and seemed especially amused by the Dr. Feelgood compact...

I will have to say that America is falling down on the job when it comes to good organization of bureaucracy. My visits to various French institutions (prefecture, mairie, etc.) were much better integrated. I had made an appointment for 2:00 pm and had my printout to prove it. Arriving there is a machine where one prints a ticket. Affixed to this machine was a sign stating "No ticket for the following services", one of which was mine. Instead I was directed to Window 19, which wasn't a window at all but a door leading to a small room with a glass service window. No one was installed in this window, but I waited for about 10-15 minutes, thinking they must have a camera or somesuch that alerts them that someone is waiting. Plus, when you open the door to this room, a light comes on ... which must have been noticed. Well, after nothing happening for a bit ... I picked up a phone and dialed the operator who then dialed down to find out what was what.

I was directed to another window and after waiting on line and reaching my turn, the first question was where was my ticket. I explained the series of events thus far and she clucked and tutted a bit and told me she had to manually create a ticket. Then she filled out a form and directed me to another line for payment. Before I received my 'services', I had to pay the fee. Off to that line, wait to pay and then receive a new number and told to wait some more.

Finally the 3rd person to serve me was the one who could take care of my requests. I will say he did so quite pleasantly. That done, I paused to use the 'facilities' before leaving.

There I had a truly deja vu moment. As I stepped into the bathroom, I could have been stepping into countless other public American bathrooms. or corporate bathrooms. or chain restaurant bathrooms. or airports. there, awaiting me was the same 3/4" square mosaic tile, speckled in colors of brown and beige, adorning the floor. there, awaiting me, was the same metal stall, hanging door with chrome lock...in that same nondescript shade of brown that we've seen across our great nation. the 3 stall variety, 2 regular, one handicapped accessible. foot of space below for peeking under, open a few feet from the ceiling for peering over ... as I, um... SAT there ... I had a few moments for silly Kimberlee reflection. I wanted to snap a photo for you...but my camera had been confiscated, along with my cell phone.

who was the man who invented these fixtures? when had he? did he have a patent (surely!) ... how many were there across the land. do they exist in all governmental outposts throughout the world? and military too? and why? is it to bestow some familiarity ... a stamp of Americanism along with the stars and stripes? wouldn't we be better served using local businesses and manufacturers in a sign of respect, compatriotism to the foreign land we are occupying? I'll tell you that much of the plumbing fixtures and other little details we take for granted are much more cleverly constructed in my new land, especially those meant to capitalize upon smaller spaces with efficiency. how much money has the inventor made? why the HELL haven't I or someone in my family come up with a good idea? just one?

mind then wandering further to consider lane dividers, speed bumps, traffic signals ... well all sorts of things that are similar in nature in terms of spread across lands, slightly invisible and yet invasive in their innocuity.

as I flitted down the exit path for a final flirt with my guard boy/man, I pondered these improbable topics ... until I was greeted with smile and wink ! back to la belle Paris for more interesting adventures to be sure.

wait until you see the dessert I treated myself to after all of that fol-de-rol!

paris and my failed power cord ... don't blame me!

so I've been off the grid for nearly 2 weeks! first I went to Paris for some business (sans laptop) and some pleasure. One day after my return, my power cord conked out.

now one thing about having a Macintosh computer is that it isn't like there's an Apple store on every corner. Or in every city. Or even state for that matter (in the U.S.). So imagine dealing with the consequences of a failed Macintosh power cord in a small village in rural Dordogne!

I grasped about for options...I knew they sold Macs in Perigueux at the Auchan so I headed there toute de suite, thinking problem solved.

not.

Yes they sell Macs but not peripheral accessories. So I could buy a new laptop and get my cord ... ha! He directed us to the service department, thinking maybe they could help. no again.

returned and borrowed a friend's computer. the closest apple store is in Bordeaux, about 2 hours from me. Looked at the apple.fr site. 8-10 days delivery.

racking brain frantically.

my cousin was coming to meet me on Thursday. 3 days plus without power isn't as bad as 8-10 days. My cousin is a Mac user, I thought he would feel my pain and could go buy the cord for me and bring it with him.

well, better yet, he had an extra cord. he brought it. it works. I'm here.

I'll regale you with random Parisian observations next. just you wait and see.

pretty tired!

well, this semi-job stuff is really cutting in to my days! I'm just about worn out ... (smile)

I know I know, happens to the best of us ... but I'm juggling quite a bit these days trying to keep up with the garden ... including harvesting and preserving the fruits and veg ... keeping the yard cut ... trying to clean house every now and then ... searching every Wednesday for old furniture to renovate, renovating said furniture for the shop (finished three pieces thus far plus one for Étienne's bedroom) ... and various other sundry items.

in the face of a heat wave no less.

yesterday something kind of cool occurred. I was in the shop and a little lady with a younger woman entered. She was excited to tell me in her rapid french that she knew the property ... in fact, as I began to comprehend I realized she was the daughter of Monsieur Briant, the former owner. Her eyes were welled up looking around at the renovated forge where her father used to work. She was so pleased to see so many original touches remaining! Jean-Yves reminded me, "the photo, Kim...the photo". Ah yes, we had recovered only one personal item in the house and that was a very tiny photo of a man holding the hand of a young girl, standing in the garden. I ran to the house to retrieve it.

It was her uncle, the brother of Monsieur Briant. She asked to see the garden and I also showed her the new kitchen with the 2 new windows. She gave me her address in la Rochelle.

They also bought some things. In fact, they got a few extras that I forgot to charge them for ... oops! JY and I had quite the lunch yesterday with aperos and a bottle of wine ... so I was a bit perky, to put it nicely! lol.

well that was fun. I'll have to see about scanning that photo and sharing it.

Blogging is getting tighter and tighter, now that I'm supposed to be doing 3 of them! two shops and mine ... le sigh.

but I keep hope alive!

lovely evening in Nailhac ...

I was invited to a "Fête de Noix" in Nailhac, a small village near Hautefort last week-end. English friends, Ruth and Steve, who I met through my french class last year live in Nailhac and have put forth a lot of effort to integrate into their area. This year Ruth was on one of the fête committees and spent many hours fashioning paper flowers that were strung into garlands and other shapes and used to decorate the tiny village.

This village celebrates Friday through Sunday ... one 'repas' won't do it for them! I closed up a bit early and headed over (it is about an hour's drive) ... did my usual getting lost a bit before getting guided back and was warmly greeted with a nice cool gin tonic ... what's not to love about that!

Ever encounter some one you just connect right away with? sure you have, and that's how I felt with Ruth. We were able to chat and laugh immediately (in class) and have had some nice afternoons ... they don't live here full-time so it is another 'flexible friendship' where you 'profiter' when able ... I'm learning more how to do that these days ... as potential friends are fewer and farther away than in the states. Ruth offered to put me up in her guest room so we could drink to our heart's content! lol, plus the fact we could walk there left us feeling able to throw caution to the wind!

uh oh.

well, j/k ... sort of. I had a lot of fun meeting some of Ruth's friends and checking out the village party. I think the tinier the village ... well no maybe not, anyway, I will say I have encountered such a broad variety of experiences with these village happenings ... they can be quite charming.

this one felt somewhat familial ... casual ... and fun! there were a couple of village characters ... the old gent who(french) who likes to take his 'bises' one step further ... and the young man(french) who is a performer at heart and dresses up in various costumes each year with accompanying personalities and entertains the attendees.

and the table full of brits we were 'reserved' with ... some colorful folks there as well...I sat next to a gent on my left, 3 across and Ruth to my right. All were spouses of others at the table. Everyone was quite friendly, jocular even. Except for the man at my left. Soon after I sat down, I was rummaging in my purse and he asked what was I after ... just as he saw me find a pack of Camels and a lighter.

"Oh. surely you're not," he exclaimed. I was kind of taken aback, first of all because he was peering into my purse right along with me. Okay, we were sat on benches ... but it was still a little forward. "Not at table. SURELY no," he kept repeating.

I'm not sure why, but it instantly irritated me! All who know me know I'm not even a serious smoker, just with cocktails or what not. and we were drinking aperitif, no food had been served. and we were outdoors. and all the tables with the french (just next to us) had smokers. smoking. Ruth piped up and pointed this out.

But let me also say that, in seeking out the pack, I wasn't planning to have a smoke just then. It was just that we were a bit scooched in there and it was on my mind to set them out on the table for later.

but then mister nosy mcnosy decided to tell me what to do. or not to do. the fellows across the way urged me to go ahead, have your fag, we don't care.

and so I decided to torment this slightly annoying article just a bit. (Ruth, I know you've begun reading me ... begging forgiveness in advance! :P)... I can be naughty that way. when inspired.

I placed the pack firmly on the table between our 2 settings, along with the lighter ... looked him straight in the eye and said, "I'm not planning to smoke just yet ... unless you piss me off". he was more than startled! I told him "you know us 'mericans are quite direct and I'm a best example of such ..."

The chaps (seems in keeping with the theme here) across the way had a laugh and kept trying to instigate a ciggy lighting session. I proceeded to point out the other folks around, smoking away. He then pointed out a guy standing off to the side, french no less, and smoking. Maybe I'd like to join him was his retort!

Sorry, I considered it but he was already with a pretty lady, so no go! I grabbed the pack and extracted a cig, rolling it twixt my fingers and toying with the lighter.

Now normally, I would never smoke at a table full of folks (picnic table it was) who were obviously non-smokers. but I was being pushed by his smug disapproval. I managed to hold out through a couple of courses, but after a few (more than a few) aperitifs and a glass or 2 of wine, I turned my back to him, sitting with my legs facing outwards of the bench and lit up. I felt his eyes boring into my back (and glimpsed him sideways, with an evil smirk).

He said nary a word.

after this, there was dancing. Ruth and I got on the dance floor a few times, and even stayed after her husband caught a ride with friends due to a case of the gout in his foot. I snagged a few photos of the dance floor but missed the best part ,,, which can only be described as some sort of giant seated, caterpillar dance. everyone is sat on the floor, legs spread and close to the next in front ... sort of seating swaying dancing and then ... ZUT ALORS! ... it morphs into a seated mosh pit ... the end person dives into the upraised arms of the chain and is passed to the front!

hilarity ensues.

somehow we walked home with our little 'torches' (about a mile down a country lane) and when we arrived (around 3ish) Steve was in the pool! I donned my suit and we went down ... for some reason I only sat on the edge and cooled down ... it was still warm at that hour. next day I couldn't remember why I didn't swim. that alone shows it was probably for the best.

needless to say, the hour's drive back to Brantôme and the afternoon working in the store were *cough* a challenge *cough*, to put it mildly.

but it was SOOOO! fun! especially letting my merciless contrary nature roam free a bit.

life in a bubble ...

life seems a little strange and floaty these days ... my French, while improving, isn't at a standard to fully immerse myself in the news and happenings of my newly adopted country ... and while my circle of French friends has grown a bit, it isn't huge. so making the transition to stimulating discussions of culture and events here is going to take a bit more time.

and while I can keep up with the American happenings via internet news (since I haven't a teevee) ... I'm missing the context that is provided by living in the country, discussing and debating the haps with my circle of friends and former colleagues... and even if I were wanting to expand my circle of English speaking friends, they wouldn't be American ...more likely mostly English. Who are most decidedly quite different from us yanks.

so, my life is a daily glide of domestic tasks and my never-ever-ending list of projects, big and small, related to home renovation, business creation, homemaking, etc.

its like being suspended in a bubble, the transparency allowing me to view various occurrences from a distance, the thin veneer masking the sounds and making communications difficult and complicated.

I've noted the effect of this phenomenon on my writing and blog as well. when I throw my opinions around, I prefer the confidence in my conclusions that comes from pre-flying them within my daily life.

I'm going to have to ponder this situation and see what I can do to alter the course a bit. Some of the folks I'd really like to create a new circle with either seem to travel a lot, making interaction a bit more challenging ... or live a good enough hike that requires planning and overnight stays etc. which isn't always too practical.

hmmm. here's one case where maybe the bubble does need to be burst.

new photos are up!

before and after of .... 'the project' ... !!!


click here to get a bird's eye-view

and if you want to check out (or even Follow!) our new blog for The Bohemians, click here ,

Bon lundi!

message in a bottle.

i'm going to toss this out on the big blog sea and ... see what comes back to me.

a little confession. as I started getting in to my blog and reading other blogs and seeing other bloggers find ways to get their writing published ... I began to dream a little dream that maybe someone out there might read about my adventure ... someone who knew more about these writerly things than I ... someone that might see a seed of something...I don't know ... adventurous, fun, entertaining ... maybe even a little inspiring. And might know someone who knew someone who worked somewhere and could give me some advice on how one might get their story ... slighty, semi-autobiographical whimsy ... in front of the right person. perhaps ? maybe? parce-que? pourquoi-pas?

I'm in a place right now where I could use a buoy. a marker in that big old sea to swim towards. maybe a lifejacket too, if it is going to be a long haul.

but I'd really like some insight as to how one might go about this rather daunting prospect.

that of being heard ... more widely.

that's it.

I've decided to cease reading email after 6:00 p.m. I find that most emails are either spam, bad news or irritating. With the time difference, they seem to arrive around the time I am winding down from my generally productive day or preparing for bed.

This means my good night's sleep is interrupted or terminated, depending on the level of irritation derived from the email.

At least when receiving such news in the morning, one has the day to process and resolve the impact.

Herewith decided and seconded. fin.

another milestone achieved.

I am no longer classified as a "visiteur" to France via my Carte de Sejour.

I applied for a revised residency card, allowing me to own a business and have an income ... or work independently. In order to receive this, I had to complete paperwork regarding my business plan, projected income, resources to support the business, etc.
I had to provide attestations from my bank and pictures of my inventory. Several trips to the prefecture were required as I either did not understand the requirements fully or additional documentation was requested. In addition, I had two meetings with the Chambre de Metiers to sort things out further.

Le monsieur at the prefecture has been nothing but cordial and helpful. We reached a stumbling block mid-way ... the chambre de metier would not issue my SIRET number without a carte de sejour change to commerçant / professionel and the prefecture would not change my carte de sejour without a SIRET number! After my 3rd trip to the prefecture, he took pity upon me. Excusing himself, he disappeared for about 20 minutes ... he spoke with Madame at the Chambre de Metier and convinced her she could issue the number.

I immediately called and set an appointment. She too was nothing but kind during our meeting, very curious about my new home and activities. Returning to the prefecture, le monsieur decided I had waited long enough. He disappeared again and returned with my temporary Carte de Sejour ... which is typically mailed to the mairie. From that moment, I could conduct business.

But in my mind nothing was official until last Friday ... when my postal carrier delivered my letter from the mairie, summoning me to retrieve my new carte de sejour. Almost as good as my new status is the fact that I have a new, up-to-date photo, minus several chins!!!

I now have my SIRET number, a new Carte de Sejour approved for my second year and commerçant / professionel status.

With this change, it is also possible for me to receive my Carte Vitale, which is the French health care card. My taxes paid will also contribute towards a small retirement fund.

um regarding the carte vitale ... anyone out there have some good tips for applying / receiving? my next residency project awaits!

All in all, telling you I am quite satisfied, trés contente, would be a hell of an understatement!