effrayante. terror in my heart.

after the garage punk concert, I made it an early night and was on my way home by 9:45 or so. Now that may seem early to you. But 9:45 p.m. on a Sunday night in the French countryside is a wasteland. pitch black, unlit country roads ... dark as dark gets when the stars are tucked in for the night under a duvet of thick rain clouds. sleek slippery roads.

I stopped after my evening 2 beer limit (thankfully) and had a Perrier as my one for the road. My ride home is really only about 20 minutes from Les Toqués, especially on a deserted Sunday evening. Being aware that because not many people are out on the road at this time/day, I was paying close attention as I'm sure any gendarmes who had ventured out would have their caps set for a quick ticket.

I was making my way on the wet dark road at about 80-85kph in a 90kph area. I rounded a bend and up ahead in the distance I could see some systematically flashing lights. they were oddly out of place and I immediately suspected one of those random DUI stops the cops set up on week-ends to snag unsuspecting victims. as I grew closer I could see it wasn't that ... but not sure what it actually was. Just as I was about on top of the scene, it dawned on me that it was an overturned car. glass and detritus littered the road. the smell of burnt rubber and metal was in the air as I slowed and lowered my window, turning down the music. it was so fucking dark. it seemed like whatever happened had just occurred. it was eerily quiet as I pulled to the side of the road and fumbled for my purse. my heart was pounding. I immediately felt on the edge of tears as I crossed the road, repeating to myself under my breath, "please no dead people, please no dead people".

I started to get down on my hands and knees, feeling the crunch of glass and debris, and peer through the broken window...I lost grasp of what language to call out in, finally just saying 'quel qu'un? est quel qu'un la?' I heard nothing and saw the same ... and then another car miraculously turned the bend ... I jumped up and started waving my hands and bag in the air and over my head ... a man emerged from the car and also shouted, but to me ... "Quel qu'un?" I replied, "oui ... je pense mais j'ai juste arrivé" and there was a woman with this newly arriving man and I screamed at her to call for help ... then we heard someone saying "oui" ... we reached down again ... it was a man grabbed a hand and he was pulled free ... he was obviously dazed ... and kept repeating "oh, ma voiture, ma voiture" in a distressed voice and kind of shuffling about ... I returned to his car and knelt down again. The man was so out of it, I just wanted to make sure there wasn't someone else inside ... it was really impossible to see much of anything in there, but I couldn't hear anything either. as the 2 men talked, I again was struck with how dark it was and how poorly placed we were. Not wanting another accident to occur, I got in my car and made a U-turn so I was facing the damaged car about 10 feet away and put on my flashers. Monsieur was still upset about his car and I told him I thought he was lucky and in fact, he was alive! he was getting a bit more coherent now and was saying how it was his fault, he was going too fast. Another man who stopped asked him if he had been drinking to which he replied "oui, un peu ... " A few more cars began to assemble and I was being asked if I had been a passenger... I think because I was visibly upset.

Ever since my husband was killed in a car accident so many years ago, I have what I think is a considerably exaggerated reaction to car accidents. I find them very traumatic and unfortunately have witnessed 2 that resulted in deaths ... where I actually saw the thing occur and dead person afterward and those marked me.

It took a lot for me stop (of course, I had no choice) and even more for me to get out of the car and go over there. all I know is I am thankful the man wasn't hurt and even more thankful the 2nd car arrived within minutes of me. Once I realized that there were about 3 cars that had stopped to assist, all French and more helpful than I, I made the decision to take my leave. I approached the man (who I discovered also lives in Brantôme) and wished him well. He thanked me.

quite the finish to my rock hard week-end.

ridiculously, afterward I realized I didn't even know the number to call if someone hadn't arrived. now I do. dix-huit. 18. pompiers. fire department.

dix-huit. dix-huit. dix-huit.

rock hard week-end.

I had a great week-end. Sure, the weather was still shit ... maybe a few steps up, but not great... however, I managed to get my rock on.

There was music on offer all week-end. I punked out on Friday but Saturday ... different story. Had my class in the morning (surprisingly better ... more on that later) ...

Saturday night my friends Wreckless Eric & Amy Rigby were playing in Chalus (about 45-50 km northeast from me) at the Lawrence d'Arabie restaurant and bar. They have played there regularly for a few years now. Sadly, the owners sold out and it will soon be just another English pub (we're littered with them round here). Sans music. So, it was their last night performing there.

Some of you might remember during my first year here, I was having one of my lonely, what's it all about Alfie periods and Amy, a fellow blogger as well, reached out and invited me to hear them perform in the same spot. It was such a treat to learn there was a fellow 'merican (well...we KIND of own up to that - ha) not too far off. Eric is a brit, but I forgive him.... *ducks,lol*

Well I'm here to report that although I have always enjoyed them, Saturday's show reflected how even more (in my unsophisticated opinion) in tune with they are with each other as performers. Maybe in tune isn't the best phrase for it, as musicians they were always in tune. But they were cohesive, relaxed and obviously having fun. Not sure how to put my finger on it ... because before they weren't disjointed, uptight and miserable. But there was a certain degree of sympatico in their playing and harmony that was a treat to observe. Does it come from lots more time playing together? I don't know, I'm not a musician and have no clue...would be for them to verify. But I recognized a certain something. I stayed for both sets and was sorry to leave immediately after (12:30 or so)...given my drive home. I got to hear their new music (bobblehead dolls) and a song Amy wrote about meeting Eric ... amongst all the other goodness. I would have loved to hang around a bit for the last hurrah. Eric and Amy are headed back out on tour in March, I'll be posting their stateside dates here as they are announced...or stay tuned here to follow for yourself.

By the way, if you haven't listened in already, do check out Wreckless Eric's radio show. How many chances to you get to be hosted by a british rock legend, anyway?

As if that wasn't enough ... Sunday I had plans to go to an "apero concert" in Perigueux at Les Toqués. That's a polite way of letting you know it will start and end early! I was having some misgivings after I checked the site and discovered it wasn't the usual blues on offer ... but was described as garage punk. Now, those who know me know I lean towards the more soulful variety of music ... but I had plans to meet Paul and Janice so decided to soldier on ... and I'm ever so happy I did! It was a BLAST!

1st off, on arriving it was a decidedly different affair...instead of the usual laid back version of blues listeners ... it was wall to wall leather, hair gel, tats and piercing! (well except for a few of us...). The age group ran the spectrum, but the attire was consistent across generations. Thank god I was at least all in black. The group wasn't up yet ... but I spotted Paul and Janice quick enough ... and then to my surprise I also saw some faces from the previous evening. Not so surprising, I guess, since rock isn't exactly wall to wall in the countryside so I imagine fans are willing to make the hike. But Eric and Amy's friend Emmanuel was there with a (or his?) ladyfriend.

The band began to assemble and I swear to you, it appeared only one of them was old enough to have a beer!!! beard free, but with the prerequisite tousled spiked and assymetrically fashioned hair, pointy leather shoes and skin tight jeans. Thee Vicars they were and they were SURPRISINGLY good...and got better with each song. I expected I don't know what, maybe something less rhythmic and more metallic. But they just broke it on down, driving each chord with enjoyment ... and the lead singer had a signature screech (yyyeeeowwwlll) sprinkled generously through each song, accenting his high pitched singing. But they were great. They were rambling about their french tour in a big van, headed on to Spain and then ... *GASP* ... the States! I chatted with the lead singer a bit ... after hearing the news they were going to California ... in looking in on their schedule, they start at LA and work their way east for a spell ... use the link above to check out their schedule, listen to some tunes, etc. Worth a look! they were adorable, each and every one ... the drummer was amazing too.

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...)

a kilo for a fiver!

on special down at the local boucherie (butcher) ... a random cart in the middle of the lane, piled high with pig parts and veg ... and a sign proclaiming "your choice, 5€ a kilo" ... burrow around in there and you'll see piggy tails and piggy hooves as well as slabs of piggy pork ...

when it is snowing outside, a big hotpot is just the thing.

squealllllllllll!

farkle family sewing - just call me sparkle!

as mentioned, I bought a sewing machine last week in the thoughts of taking a sewing course...that didn't pan out. But I still have visions of sewing grandeur and so made my way to a fabric store and bought loads.

after staring at the pile for a number of days ... on a particularly foul snowy morning I decided to take the thing out of the box and at least see if I could operate it. given that the instructions are all in French and I couldn't find an English version online, I was a little nervous. but only a little.

until I remembered my eyes. tiny problem. I arrived here with 2 pairs of eyeglasses and quickly proceeded to lose one pair (my favorite, of course, and the newest). The 2nd pair had been soundly abused in the states, the lenses scratched ... and were supposed to serve as my 'back-up'.

I'd been holding off on eyeglasses until my Carte Vitale was all sorted out...one of the immediate horror stories one hears about is the horrible wait for an eye doctor... I of course started calling in November or so, when I got my health insurance ... and everyone was on holiday until January. because of that, appointments were indeed backing up...so mine is now the beginning of March.

In the meantime, being Kim (and a farkle by trade) I paid absolutely NO undue care to the remaining pair ... who are now in 3 pieces ( the part with the lenses and then each side bit broken off ).

Returning to the topic of threading the sewing machine ... do you have any idea at all just how SMALL that stupid little hole in the needle is? forget about that, the drawings demonstrating the 42 step obstacle course for getting the thread to that hole was also unfathomable. for my poor eyes.

I doubt the glass of red wine accompanying the process was of much use, either.

I tracked down a needle threader in one of those complimentary hotel sewing kits. I KNEW I'd been saving and hauling around those things for a reason. I have about a dozen from my jet-setting days.

But to use the needle threading device, one still must be able to see the hole to stick the damn thing through.

So there I was. In my left hand I held the scratched remnant of a pair of eyeglasses to my face. With my (now slightly trembling) right, the threader ... after several misses, I got it through and then had to repeat the process with the thread itself...

I'm not convinced I got the thread guided correctly through all of its many stops.

I only attempted one project. I made a draft stopper for the door ... not using any of my pretty NEW fabric but some recycled curtain leftovers in a 70s mustard gold velour. heh heh. I filled it with kitty litter.

As far as adjusting the tension, refilling the bobbins, or attempting one of the 16 other stitch varieties, that will just have to wait.

For either another freezing cold day with a fire and a bottle of red.

Or new eyeglasses.

Anyone wonder why our family moniker has been "The Farkles" for as long as I can remember?

up to my neck in alligators, I mean potential projects!

okay, I've just about reached the *no excuses* stage...I've assmbled materials for innumerable projects and now have to buckle down ...

I'm still in the middle of my chair project, and now bought the fabric (a grey/taupe linen, basic) that will complement the turquoise/teal I'll be painting the legs and arms.

I've purchased bits and bobs for making brooches, just need a few jewelry type items via Etsy and can get going on that.

I've purchased fabric and ordered patterns for a few things I wish to try my hand at, sewing wise (pillows, totes and maybe some drawstring lounge pants) ... if they are decent, I'll be selling them.

I've still got a bathroom project and the rest of my stairwell project.

We're still a potential *go* on a scaled down version of the café and work will commence on that shortly.

The garden continues to softly call and woo me, each day of sunshine I feel the pull.

I have several furniture pieces awaiting *relooking* and a few bids out for custom projects.

all this awaits but what I really want to do is go to the beach.

sigh.

mother nature is a tart and a tease.

well me lovelies, we have our 4th round of snow (I only count those that stick to the ground)...woke up to about an inch in the garden ... shortly after it began falling.

I bundled up and got on the bike to get a few things in town (une chocolatine, un pain de paysan boule, une sac des tomates, etc etc). I'm going to prepare something savory and mexican today. why not?!

but really, Miss Thing needs to stop toying with our emotions ... one day its all sunshine and sprouts peeping up and birds trilling ... the next it is the calm cool silence and the glare of snow crystals! the hussy.

I mean, who is going to want to come into my freezing cold boutique and look at the spring sundresses? brrrrrrrrr!

I've stoked up a big fire in the fireplace, refilled the oil heater, put on some tunes ... made my cozy nest and think I'll try my hand at some sewing.

maybe one of those things you put at the bottom of your door to block drafts. let's see, I'll need about 34. better get crackin'

heh heh.

glacial (glah-cee-alle)

no snow but heavy frosts, ice on the roads and cold, cold air.

bad timing to run out of heating oil (sunday)...got the delivery this morning but it will take hours to reheat the house...thank goodness for my 2 little oil heaters and my hot water bottle!! I actually was almost too warm last night and turned off one of the heaters (I had placed both in my bedroom). the boiler doesn't want to restart and belches smoke as I try .... hmmm ... allowing for age and sensitivity, I give her a break and try again ... she digs deep and starts up... I dust her off and polish a bit, I need to nurture every last breath of warmth she's got as my budget won't support a new furnace.

This morning I can see my breath throughout the house! My friend Kathleen tells me el Niño is in Oregon and it is in the mid-50s everyday....we are seriously considering a visit!

my dear monsieur and I had an amazing day yesterday. it is hilarious the simple things with which we can entertain ourselves...talk about reverting to our childhoods. a delicious lunch together, dancing cheek to cheek, scheming and plotting, merriment abounded....giggling and conspiring and generally having a wonderful time enjoying each other's company. we do marvel at how 2 like spirits found each other from across the seas ... life is strange and marvelous and confusing and ... well ... life.

le sigh encore.

frisson de printemps...

got a little spring itch yesterday...it was a sunny day...clear and crisp...

first time this year I hung out some sheets in the sunshine...

pulled on my boots and determined to do some digging in the garden. turned up 3 flower beds. repruned the roses and pulled up the dahlia tubers. gathered up all the old capucine (nasturtium) leftovers and rearranged stone borders. Cut back all the dead fern.

Jean-Yves arrived and puttered along with me. He pruned the peach and pear trees a bit. My fruit trees are old and need nursing. The trunks and branches have all sorts of stuff that need to be removed (mosses, funghi)...these have weakened the wood and rotted some branches. It of course affects the fruit yield and quality. Being JY, he thinks I should remove them. Being me, I am trying to shape them up a bit. So yesterday I also scraped moss by hand and dug around their bases a bit. Worried that it is still going to be very cold, I didn't do too much to disturb them.

While out there, I also some some lettuce appearing. How optimistic are these young sprouts? Just a week ago we had snow ... all week we've had heavy frost, and yet the radicchio soldiers on!!

When JY was here, he saw the dahlia tubers laying exposed and tut-tutted that I better put those back (he knows me and how easily distracted I am).

Well, thankfully I did separate them and replant. This morning when I arose, the garden was blanketed in a heavy white frost. those little babies would never have made it.

I also did a bit of a clean-up. All winter, we've done this and that little brico project and the remains were piled in my small courtyard. Along with bottles and empty heating oil containers and other bits and bobs. I got the heavy duty trash bags out and bagged up a dozen big ones for the dechetterie. We have a major trip to do!

I snagged the laundry back just as the light was fading ... buried my nose in that unmatchable scent of sunwarmed cotton and got a miniscule spring fix ... we've a ways to go so it will have to last.

and another thing ...

so I've also been taking an upholstery class. It has been interesting.

First off, the instructor wasn't sure she wanted me in her class because she has an antique shop and design business that includes upholstering. When I first attempted to enroll (through a local arts group), they posed a series of questions including why I was taking the course. Upon hearing I had a boutique, I was told I had to speak directly with the instructor before I could enroll.

She grilled me re: my business and motives. Would I be setting up an upholstery service? etc. etc. I was honest and even invited her to visit my shop. She told me that upholstery was considered a 'metier' and it required a 2 year course of study to become certified, which she was.

My goal is to familiarize myself with the techniques and if I come across an old chair I want to restore for myself or for resale, I would. But I don't have the time nor inclination to become an upholsterer.

She agreed to take me.

For some reason, the stars have not been aligned throughout the process. First, when she came by to 'visit' she informed me the class was to be delayed due to pending snow. Then, when she found out I was considering travelling in February, she was put out and quick to note there would not be 'make up' sessions. Understandable, but the world closes up in February for school holidays. Ahhh, she had indeed forgotten that and so then her attitude was reigned in.

Compounding matters, I ended up missing the first class ... sigh. The 2nd class (my 1st) went okay ... but I quickly saw that she really had zero English ... and made few attempts to make her French more understandable to me (e.g., speaking a little more slowly, etc.) I didn't earn any points by needing to leave early to head off for Paris.

The 3rd class (my 2nd) was cut short due to snow. During this class, she also invited me to join her sewing course. I was interested because they are making all sorts of purses and bags, including a bread bag ... which I've had an idea for ... she told me I would need to have my own sewing machine. So, I went out and bought the machine and then emailed her to check if there were other materials I needed. Lo and behold, the sewing class space was no longer open (hmmm) and now I have a brand new sewing machine. Also, while there at my class, she showed me a range of fabrics available for my chair ... (or so I thought). I then lugged the chair home to paint ... with my selected fabric in mind.

Then at my last class ... which was extended to accommodate the forfeited snow time ... I was told that no - that fabric wasn't for THIS class but another. She then pointed out a few fabrics that were available. The only one that didn't make me puke was a kind of chartreuse green, so in my head I worked through the paint and this fabric and decided okay. Later in the class I told her I would take it ... she proceeded to tell me maybe there wasn't enough and she unrolled the fabric to confirm that indeed ... it wasn't sufficient. She then showed me a chocolate brown linen that was off to the side that I could have for 25€ per meter and I'll need 2! She will only hold it through Monday so now I've got to go search fabric as I don't really want to spend 50€ on this little side chair. harumph. and oh, by the way, she told me that the sewing class is now finished! (why did she invite me in the 1st place if there was only one more class?!)

Much of it is the language barrier for sure. And she doesn't seem inclined to try and understand me. And for whatever reason, I find her manner one of trying to intimidate.

probably all in my head. I even showed up with a cake knowing the class would be extended 2-1/2 hours for make up time.

The others in the class are nice enough (4 other women), one who lives in Brantôme and seems she might be friends with Laurence (the instructor). All have been very cordial to me. I'm thinking it is more of French style thing and I regularly seem to lose things in translation so I'm giving the benefit of the doubt.

JY says she is more likely a typical Perigourdine! ha.

But in spite of all of that, I'm acquiring knowledge on a technique and that's great. Let me tell you, I now have a better understanding of why upholsterers charge what I used to think were astronomical prices. It is not easy work, it is physical and acquires a great degree of attention to detail. It is all, of course, by hand ... and the care taken can ensure a high quality result. But the time and effort combined with the cost of materials means it isn't to be taken lightly. or cheaply.

I've spent about 8 hours in the class now and am just arriving at the stage where the seat will be stuffed! Next week-end there is no class because she can't make it. but February 20th she IS holding a class, in spite of the school holiday and then taking a break until March 6th.

If I go anywhere during spring break, it means that I'll probably receive about 50% of the instruction time I paid for.

merde!!

But ... who knows what might be possible in the weeks ahead...her store is lovely and her work is divine. I'd be happy to refer clients to her if I felt the relationship improved. Guess I'll just buck up and examine what is really going on ... how much of it is in my head or elsewhere! ha... but here's a few photos and there are more on the flickr page (sidebar) so feel free to check it out.

à bientôt!

p.s. the last class involved some heavy-duty pulling and tightening of the cord that secures springs, etc. this morning I awoke to pains in funny places (muscles in the front of my underarm!!!) ha! so I'm getting the free benefit of that as well! I must factor that into my investment...

Le Bistrot Rouge, Tocane Saint-Apre

Thursday afternoon was the monthly English ladies who lunch club. It actually started snowing a bit and I debated whether or not to go, not to mention the fact I was going to be arriving quite late because of the morning's festivities! I decided to go for it and I'm very glad I did!

I got to see a bit of a new village (Tocane St. Apre) and try a new restaurant (Le Bistrot Rouge) AND meet a cool new couple, New Zealanders Paul and Janis. They have a cozy establishment to die for, a great approach to their café and warm positive attitudes which were refreshing.

They weren't decrying winter and its lack of visitors. They were celebrating the flexibility winter provided in this country ... if it is quiet ... no reservations? ... it is just fine to decide to pass on opening today. If inspired, then go for it! Their menu wasn't just the regular french fare but had some zing.

They have renovated their little spot (maybe 25 or so covers?) quite charmingly with loving attention to detail (wood floors, stone walls, interesting artsy touches like inlaid pebble flooring and niches here and there)...The format was your choice of 2 options per course (entree, plat, dessert) as well as nice wines. All fresh and tasty.

They also are hosting 2 or 3 'chambres d'hotes', sort of bed/breakfast affairs ... the rooms were phenomenal and with a 4th nearly finished.

A lovely courtyard with a small but welcoming pool.

They just opened their restaurant in July of 2009 and I predict next season will be terrific for them. Any of you who are in this region (their village is just after Lille on the way to Riberac) ... I recommend you call ahead to reserve your spot and make sure it is on your itinerary!

Le Bistrot Rouge, Place des Tilleuls, 24350 Tocane Saint-Apre 05.53.90.26.37

I'm adding them to my sidebar ... they definitely make the grade!

une (not so) petite salope!

well I've been up to all sorts of stuff, high time we caught up!

there was that dreamy trip to Paris ... I'll be saving most of the highlights for my shop blogs ... mostly prattling about beautiful furniture and décor, fashion and fashionistas.

you France grumblers will be pleased to know I finally had a less than admirable experience with some French service workers, after nearly 2 years here I'd say that was still a pretty good record.

I had my ticket in hand but had also checked out subsequent departures in case I wanted to linger in Paris (which of course I did). Naive me, I planned to board on the next train ... the friend I was staying with told me I needed to arrive earlier at the station and get the ticket changed.

So I got there (not really early, just a normal arrival for a 1pm departure) and headed into the gare. Bitch woman number one informed me that it would be 30 euros. When I asked why (my original ticket was 40euros), she just glowered and got sarcastic. When I accused her of being sarcastic, she agreed that yes she WAS being sarcastic. When I asked if she spoke English, she pointed at her sign above. When I asked for someone else who spoke english, she told me I understood and basically we argued back and forth for several minutes. I wasn't minding the time, and by the time I got to someone who would explain further (no change in situation) it was too late to take the train I wanted and the next one was 3 hours later. I felt my American rising and wanted to grab the 2 of them, 3 stooges style, and knock their stupid heads together!

bitches.

I had to wait in the ever-so-dull Austerlitz station. I couldn't do much more because I had 2 giant, unwieldy suitcases. I called JY who lamely tried to calm me down over the phone. I was mostly upset because it was a weekday/schoolday and he would have to come retrieve me at nearly 10pm, 45 minutes from his house.

I was so enraged I forgot I wasn't on the usual line I take (Angoulême) and instead had opted for Limoges, which passes through JY's village. So, happily, once I remembered this, I called him back and told him I would just get off there. He too was delighted and we instead shared a beer and I came home to my pups.

So for those of you who think I'm nothing but the French Pollyanna, there - SEE? - I too can get irritated when something goes wrong here. hmph!

I came home on a Wednesday and Thursday we had a meeting with a potential client for JY. He is Irish and lives up the way. I played interpreter and it isn't exactly easy! especially with 2 fellows talking building repairs. erg. The good news on that is I think now JY can deal with him directly, I hate being in the middle of their business transaction.

Next update, I'll let you in on a great new spot for dining here in my area ... tootles!

seriously delinquent

but if it is because I am in Paris, I can be excused, non?

jetsetting with designers from all over Europe (I can tell because the number of languages I don't understand has multiplied)

bedazzled by an enormous display of design and potential consumption at the Maison et Objèt show

inspired by an incredible assortment of color and imaginative creations

crisply strolling through the Sentier district in Paris (somewhat equivalent to NY's garment district) to dredge up frugal yet interesting finds for spring in the boutique

sharing a sweet visit with our family friends, Lucille and Jeff and Camille ...

dashing off for my final day ...

more on all of this soon

bizzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!

planting seeds ... which will grow best?

continuing to sow seeds (rarely of discontent...:P) regarding gainful activities ... I'm enrolled in a 'cours de tapisserie' (upholstery class) for working on the old chairs etc here... it was supposed to commence last Saturday but was delayed because of the snow. So, try again this Saturday. Nontron is a little more than a half hour or so north of me ... so hope I like it... I'll be hoofing it back in time to open the shop in the afternoon (January).

I'm also headed up to Paris for the Maison & Objet show . We have been to several similar home shows in the states, always hearing that the Maison & Objet is THE show to attend. We daydreamed (my daughter and I) about coming together. So, this year I have a free ticket in and I'm going to go and and soak up the inspiration ... I'm trying to do it on a shoestring ... staying with Madame Pascual, going by train ... buying only the merchant catalogue (23€) versus the inspiration book (90€). I'm also going to check out a quartier where all the small clothing designers who do pret-à-porter for wholesalers congregate. A good friend gave me the scoop on where to go etc. So, I may spend a few centimes there to have some interesting new pieces for spring. I'm hoping my inspiration soak will lead me to finding or making some handmade items that are unique and cool, upon my return.

With that in mind, I've bought a jeweller's starter kit and am looking about for a used sewing machine (any pointers on that ... good brands here, maybe even with english instructions! ... but french cables and plug-ins and such)...

I'm garnering up courage for a return rendez-vous with the Chambre de Commerce to inquire more specifically about a tea or coffee shop and selling à emporter ... I seek the least amount of restrictions, red tape while dipping my toe into the pool ... maybe just some nice coffee or tea and a homemade treat?! that's not really a restaurant, is it?

We still are looking about for ways to do our original idea ... sans complications and plus paysage (foot traffic) ... we love our idea of a tapas/wine bar with week-end music... summers only. le sigh. but I'm nothing if not persistent ... so who knows.

I'm also considering something part-time related to real estate (negotiation) and have some ins and connections there...this would be sans-salaire (commission only) but could be nice to supplement. So any of you who are in the market for a pied à terre, or know someone who is ... or who might be thinking of selling in France ... please think of me. I will be associated with some really amazing agents who have many years of experience and a broad network...

Continuing my little brico-projects that I can manage on my own ... I painted and sanded and varnished the wainscoting in my stairwell this week. I primed the walls, and I sanded all of the steps after doing some repairs/fill work. Now I'm trying to decide whether to varnish them (likely) or just wax them. The wainscoting is a cream color, I distressed the wood. I'm leaning towards olive walls and a slate blue ceiling in the entry and stairwell.

JY (mon trés cher monsieur, qu'est-ce que je fais sans lui?) fixed the leak in my heating system but we had to order a part for the radiator that goes in the family room. So I'm still on the oil heater two-step. sigh.

Next home project for me is painting the upstairs little hall and bathroom. I've been procrastinating as I secretly wish to make the bath larger and kept hoping the bathroom fairy would descend and offer. Still no sign, so I'm thinking I'll just move forward with an interim paint job and keep sending out wishes...

After that, I will have no choice but to commence with the old kitchen (shudder). I've been using it for a storeroom / workshop. First task will be to move everything to a newly designated work area or the dump. After which I have to knock out a bunch of flimsily-crafted walls and brico-hell. Once that is done and I can begin painting in earnest, I might be able to get some help in relocating the furnace boiler... (MAJOR pain in the ass). putain.

I've also began pondering this year's garden design. Oh and (wooHOO), finally got my app't set with an ophtalmologiste (March!) ... yay.

all of these activities (and other secret dreams) are being started and observed ... I've seen before how testing multiple paths let's me see what doors do or do not open ... hinting at what directions might work. which seeds will take root.

in this case, it might end up being a combination...which would be okay with me too. I just want enough to pay my (fairly minimal) expenses and leave a little over for hobo travels.

snow is on the way ...

yes, more snow is predicted for today or tomorrow.

yesterday, Jean-Yves and I got together ... we decided to walk a bit and froze our tushies off.

we ransacked the house, looking for the remaining parts for my radiator in the salle à vivre...to no avail. so it didn't get installed.

we were somewhat lacking in inspiration and mostly huddled around the fire...

today I'm off for a lunch rendez-vous near Nontron ... and wondering if the snow will commence 'en route'...

I may or may not return to a newly installed radiator.... something tells me nay ... lol

thank goodness I have some portable heaters.

well then ... no other profundities at the moment. à bientôt!

food.

so I was involved in a comment exchange on a blog I like reading ... Ask A Frenchman on a topic that often seems to surface there ... food.

I've noticed that there seem to be 3 camps that regularly comment on that blog. The expats living in France who enjoy deriding everything French (and why was it they live here again .... ?), the French who read out of curiousity and defend their culture vigorously, and the rest odd bits and bobs like me.

On the topic of food ... camp 1 seems to think the French have their heads up their asses and that their food is either a bore or a legend in its own mind. After all ... they (the French) screw up everything (which really consists of those things that aren't really even that french like barbecues and sheet cakes... lol).

camp 2 stridently believes that France is the cradle of cuisine and everything is better in France. even things like Mickey D's. end of discussion.

I believe that no culture understands and reveres food in quite the same way as the French. Sure, every culture has its 'cuisine' ... the history of why it eats what it eats ... methods of capitalizing upon the local products. But no other culture has made food... its cultivation, preparation and consumption, the science AND the art AND the fabric of life that France has.

And this to a certain degree is an Achilles heel of many of the French I know.

On this most recent blog exchange ... the topic was what is missed by American expats living in France. It was jokingly commented that it certainly couldn't be the cuisine. That American food is regrettable and there really is no 'there' there. The idea that American food could be missed was (and I quote - ha) "ludicrous".

Here is where camp 3 pipes up again. Because frankly I agree that there really is very little in the way of "American" cuisine in the context of French cuisine. This is of course using the context that the only 'real' Americans were the Native people living there and everyone else just arrived. bringing their food ideas with them. and hell since its only been a little over 200 years ... in comparison ... yadiyadiya.

And in fact I even mostly agree with this. But I also think no one plagiarizes the wide variety of cuisines out there better than Americans do. probably for the simple fact that we DIDN'T have our own. I'm probably referring more to restaurants and such as opposed to cooking at home ... which I think the French have beat hands down.

But what I do think about the context of food in France is that because there is such an amazing history and culture of French foods here ... that many French are missing out on the delicious flavors of the rest of the world. There exists an attitude that we created it, this is our history, our trademark ... nothing else would even come close ... so why bother?!

I've even seen the internal variations (Basque as an example) mocked a bit as not being 'true French'.

Many of the French I know would not want to even try (or be interested). Last year when I prepared my birthday dinner (Mexican ... but with a variety of tastes ... prawn ceviche, sauteed fish tacos, chicken enchilada casserole, beans and rice and guacamole) ... about half the table picked at the plates ... eating only the rice and guacamole really, because they were afraid it would be 'too spicy'. The other half, mostly the fellas, devoured it and had seconds.

I see many of my French friends assuming that other cuisines will be too 'spicy' and won't venture there.

And the restaurants here cater to that mindset. They have equated spicy with HOT and different and change the recipes (Chinese for another example) into unrecognizable versions. Spicy does NOT equal everything folks...Chinese, Indian, Mexican foods ... in their most authentic versions...are savory more than spicy ... and utilize unfamiliar spices and flavors that have been lumped into one bowl here.

So when you do find a supposed 'int'l' restaurant here, most often the sauces taste like they've come from a jar or can or packet. With lots of sugar and gelatin.

It's disappointing.

I expected that with the reverence for food and flavors, the French would be adventurous. Would display more interest in experiencing and experimenting with other foods.

I would love to be wrong. I would love for someone to clue me in to some examples to the contrary, even if they are in the bigger cities such as Paris, Bordeaux, Marseilles and the like.

Just no one from camp 1 please. because if you really believe that American food is "cuisine" and you jump to defend it and deride French food ... well, your judgement is automatically suspect!!!

(ps-okay ... I absolutely DO miss American breakfasts... they are easily replicated at home here but not the same as going to a warm inviting café and lingering a couple of hours with friends)...and bars with great cocktail menus .... but I'm sure those are found in Paris.

sad and yet affirming news.

Yesterday I found out that a casual friend and former colleague, Cheryl Hoffman, passed away. Cheryl and I worked together up until the time I formed my corporate exit. She too had left work ... but for medical issues.

We were not close friends...but we did share the experience of being the only females in our corporate management reporting group ... and had some laughs as a consequence. Our styles were very different ... but some of our work-related experiences were the same ... facing the unique challenges affecting women in corporate america, striving for leadership positions. She was single and, like me, had a wild streak. She had a delicious laugh and an expressive twinkle in her eyes.

After I left and moved to France, out of the blue I received an email from Cheryl. Now, we weren't close enough to have stayed in contact after I left my employ. But she had contacted me (through my blog) and inquired if she could come visit. She had a friend who had ties in France and had planned an extended visit to Europe. I said sure ... after all, they were wanting a hotel ... not my ramshackle mess. Apparently, she had been following my progress and wanted to see what was up first hand.

Cheryl was battling cancer, and had won the first round. After her treatments ... she was on the mend and doing all she could to get the most out of life. I booked their hotel, they arrived and we spent a lovely September day together. We shared some laughs and told some old stories and drank some wine. Later, they splurged and ate at the Michelin star restaurant in town! we visited and toured Brantôme ... checked out the grottoes and little museum and other tiny sights my village had to offer. They got to see the Friday market and all its little antics.

We actually had some open moments ... probably more open than when we worked together. And she was so encouraging about my adventure. As crazy as it seems (the adventure, not her encouragement!)

They only spent the one evening and then went on for other adventures. I didn't hear much more from her this year, until in September when I reached out to last year's visitors for a hello.

Cheryl was in fine spirits, although she had faced a second round of treatments and such with her cancer reappearing. She was planning a round the world tour, told me her recovery was on track and commented upliftingly about my new life.

On December 22nd, she passed. I don't pretend to know all the details or to claim the loss of an intimate friend.

I do know, that but for life's crazy dice tosses ... her story and mine could have been switched.

I do know that it is possible that we both had already wasted too many years doing things that didn't provide succor to our souls and spirit.

I do know that Cheryl felt compelled to work longer than she should have ... solely to retain medical coverage, not only for her latest battle but for other issues that would have been considered 'pre-existing' and would have bankrupted her.

I do know that she made the most of these last years she had, packing in as much travel and dreaming as humanly possible when one is fighting for one's life.

I do know I can't change or regain the hours and days and weeks and years I may have wasted. For me, I choose to have no regrets. To celebrate the fact that I am on a new path. The path that was once a dream, but that I chose to make a reality.

I do know that all of these facts are lessons for me (and hopefully you too) and affirm the need for us to face our fears ... whether real or societally imposed ... and do everything we can to make this one life we are certain of the best it can be for us. The best we can dream of. The best we before only imagined. and we all need to do it now. today. this instant. A life of regrets is not the life we each deserve.

It doesn't take wealth or perfection or superhuman courage to live the best life you can. It just requires discovering (or admitting) what that best, most desired REAL life might be ... and then showing up every day to try ... to take that step to build the path that gets you as close to it as you can. for that day. and the next. and the next. tenacity. yep, it takes a touch of that.

I wish you peace and love and courage, Cheryl.

and I do know she wished that for me.

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 ...

experimental

well my xmas season has been a bust on many fronts...xmas morning I thought i was going to laze about until someone rapa-tappa-tatted my front door loudly. it was my neighbor across the street, a man who works for Sogedo the water co. He was there to alert me to what appeared to be a water leak. the night before when walking back from xmas mass at the church...i noticed an inordinate amount of water dripping from my roof.... i chalked it up to the rain and went on in to bed....the next morning (xmas) my neighbor was there with his portable in hand to tell me I had a water leak. we gazed upward to observe my rain gutters still overflowing... and even more strange, overflowing with hot water..........he told me it was necessary to turn off my water...he even had Sogedo (the water company) on the phone telling them they didn't have to send someone to cut off the water. I then called JY, leaving a disjointed message. Keeping in mind that it seems lately every time I call JY it is for a home repair problem....I've had heating problems up the wazoo too.

so I had Christmas without water, had to skip the 2 invites I had because no water.... and then the heat is affected because of no water...my neighbor and friend Nicole asked me to go listen to music Friday after the shop closed....and offered a shower if I wanted it...I went to the music concert but begged off of the shower... why not see if I could make it till Sunday? lol

Sunday I bathed. the village celebrated. today JY arrived to inspect my various water and heating issues. He is in a foul mood because of his supposed poor xmas. what about my fucked up holiday??????????????? he needs a spanking. or a trip to the beach. he's a bitch in winter....god, these fucking french countryfolks and their winter doldrums. freakin' Perigordins...

nothing that a bottle of white and a little puff*puff can't medicate.

also. I recently decided to try and cook from my larder till it is depleted vs. shopping and overflowing.

this has resulted in:

poulet en cidre encore.

lamb curry.

pasta.

rice and tuna salad.

fish curry with zucchini.

and various accoutrements. I continue to rifle through my freezer and larder as opposed to shopping. I wanted to deplete my larder before shopping further. For some reason, having lots of stuff on my shelves equalled security ... but moving here I realized that so many folks shop day to day for foodstuffs....I want a balance.... well-stocked shelves that can get me through a short spell, but avoiding the American sickness of weekly shopping and *hoarding* vs. capitalizing on what we have to put forth delicious well-balanced meals.

tonight I had tuna and rice salad, crackers with goat cheese and white wine. slurp.

um maybe I'm kinda tipsy and that is why this post is jimbojambalayed?! lol.

also strangely noticed that today I went from 74th most popular blog in France to 96th.

wtf.

oh yes its ladies night ... (soir des filles)

as mentioned, I managed to get myself re-invited to a girls' evening ... french girls, that is! ... in spite of my poor language skills and shocked expression at the snail gathering ... my neighbor Nicole included me and this time it was at Isabelle's apartment in Brantôme ... and there were only 4 of us.

I gladly accepted but confess that last night I almost begged off. I've been working hard every day and yesterday was no exception. Not to mention the snowy cold, standing 4 hours in my boutique with nary a visitor ... and a stone cold house (save my bedroom and bath). I was cranky and tired and anticipating a difficult time keeping up with the conversation. But I had already purchased my contribution and at about a quarter to eight, roused myself to begin changing clothes. no sooner had I done so then there was a rat-a-tat-tat at my door and there was Nicole. I 'desolée'd' all over myself as I struggled with my boots. I had about 4 layers on (knitted leggings over jeans and wool socks over cotton socks)... I couldn't get the damn things zipped up. I decided to forego the wool socks and achieved success. I had zero maquillage and a sour disposition to boot. I told Nicole I had a somewhat 'mauvaise humeur' today and she tut-tutted and told me a glass of wine could but help.

I threw on any old thing and let down my rat's nest (otherwise known as unwashed for over week hair that had been sand-dusted daily during my furniture project). I definitely have been looking my age this week, what with the fire starting, furniture sanding, and general harumphyness.

But I was excited to see this new friend's living quarters. As I stroll Brantôme regularly, I wonder what lurks behind those old sooty stone walls and often closed shutters. Isabelle lives just above my favorite butcher in town ... on the 3rd American floor, 2nd french. as we approach via the very old, very narrow side alley, Nicole points out the terrasse. I've eyed this flat with curiousity during my walks. I think to myself it looks as if she might not be there, the house looks dark as coal. We buzz and then Nicole steps back into the middle of the street. After a few minutes, the shutters and window opens and a smiling Isabelle leans out with a small box. She calls down key instructions and drops the box 3 floors down for us to catch. We let ourselves in to the lobby. It is clean and well-lit and could be any small Parisian entry...the staircase awaits and we ascend. Her apartment occupies the entire 3rd level, so the doorway is flush with the stair landing. It opens into a small entry way and then on into a hall.

Isabelle is a schoolteacher with 2 children (I believe!) and is divorced (also believe, some things I just try and go with the flow and await to be revealed as opposed to my natural American curiousity which would have me posing a thousand questions).

the apartment has been 'modernized'. I would guess this might have happened in the 70s. Everything is in good shape, the walls are papered with some sort of textured material with a fleck of blue and the trim is the same blue. lovely wood floors. 4 doors ( I later learn there are 3 bedrooms! 2 large and 1 smaller plus the w.c. and a bath. We follow the hall to another door and step down into a very large great room (living, dining, kitchen combo). There are vaulted ceilings (the REAL thing with huge original beams) one wall of stone where you can make out the outline of the original fireplace. the floors are tiled in red terra cotta affixed between broad wooden floor beams. She has a big leather couch and matching chairs (I exclaim about the difficulties there must have been in getting it in the apt), a huge armoire on one wall, a dining room table with seating for 6. the modern and well-equipped kitchen is open to the room ... kind of 'u' shaped but with a half wall and counter so the hostess can see her guests. The room is big and airy and lightly furnished ... some plants in a corner. She has cleverly used the old drawers from inside her armoire to create a coffee table ... there are 4 big drawers turned upside down to create a square. These drawers were made of solid wood and form a sturdy table. cool idea. noted!

The apartment was, on a whole, warm and cozy and inviting. The bedroom I saw was suprisingly huge! This flat is smack in the center of the village and I was told it was quite reasonable (by Nicole who is very frugal). The only drawback I could see was no garden or garage. But she has a huge wooden balcony with french doors leading out...I imagine in spring it is lovely to sit out there and look at the ancient roofline. It housed a table for four, various chairs, bikes etc and still roomy.

The table already has some apero items laid out ... little squares of caviar toast! nuts! etc. Nicole and I unload our sacks of goodies ... I've brought wine, paté de campagne, a little bag of goat cheese crisps, some olives & pickled goodies. Oh and some sliced chorizo (the meats are from said butcher above). Nicole has a huge green salad, some liver paté (she calls it mousse) and a bottle of Monbazillac. Isabelle has a large tart in process (tuna and tomato) and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

Our 4th arrives just as we are (finally) uncorking the wine. Its Nathalie (the fast talking Belgian escargot lover that I had trouble keeping up with beore). She carries a dessert tart.

we all settle down around the table and begin nibbling! and drinking! I notice a bit guiltily that I've made it through my 1st glass rather quickly but accept a refill...I seemed to keep a slurp or 2 ahead of everyone for the evening.

Maybe because there were fewer people, maybe because my French is slowly progressing, maybe it was the wine ... but I had an easier time keeping up this time. Let's see ... here's a smattering of topics discussed by 4 women in France on a Friday night ...

~~the weather and a funny story about a truck who lost its load of pigs today

~~car problems of Isabelle and Nicole and resulting frustrations given cost and immobility

~~the weather's effect on health and well being...including our collective dry and brittle skin! lol, this year I'm on a second round of dryness and cracking on my fingers. I had chalked it up to my wimpiness. who knew everyone had these 'crevasses' and it also has to do with lack of humidity and dry air and freezing cold, etc.

~~on this note Isabelle retrieve a book she had on ancient remedies (a gift from Nicole) and funny anecdotes were exchanged about family cures and traditions. For example, Nicole swears by her grandmother's hemorrhoid treatment (lol, imagine me trying to verify I had understood the ailment) ... but anyway the treatment (I SWEAR!) was to put a 'pomme de terre à ton poche', that's right - a potato in your pocket will do it. There was much chuckling at my eyerolling, but Nicole insists! Then other homeopathic and preventive measures in light of the flu season were examined thoroughly.

~~various diet and eating practices were chatted about.

~~we ventured into a discussion about skiing and a few funny experiences with giving it a go.

~~a few recipes

~~quite a bit of discussion about being unemployed in France and the various bureaucracies encountered in dealing with it, looking for work, receiving compensation, etc.

well there was more but that's a good part of it. did you all notice that there was no mention of men? no discussing the fellows, relationships, the good bad or indifferent. JY laughingly once called a group of Perigourdines a pit of vipers (gossip and plotting and such....)... so there, take it back, mon monsieur! :P

Throughout the evening, someone would stop and inquire if I had understood, if I were tracking along with the conversation. I was happy to be able to confirm and repeat back a summary to demonstrate I was indeed following along. A few times I contributed a bit. It probably feels a little strange to them, as it does me, to have this person sitting there and saying very little. But I do feel I'll be able to engage more as time goes on, assuming I continue to mind my Ps&Qs so I can be invited again!

Around midnight, we gathered ourselves together and bid our adieus. Nathalie was kind enough to offer us a ride back. I quickly changed and crawled under the covers.

brrrrrrrrrrrrrr.