almost did it all my damn self.

 this is a year of living single here in la belle francy pants.  as such, I have been able to occupy myself with various and sundry projects, within my capacity or just outside thereof. thus far, I have ... (although single, still with a little help from my friends)

- put in a garden terasse where for five years there have been various piles of building debris, sand, tall weeds, short weeds, mown weeds, ongoing nettle infestation.  my son was here for a time and managed to clear all the debris and weeds out and bring it back to a pile of sand, with a stone border/short wall.

that there to the left is another little path my son made alongside the little succulent/cacti garden he planted for me...

I continued levelling it and covering it first with layers of recycled cardboard boxes (now who's the packrat?!) ... followed by framing it out with some leftover beams and wood that's been laying about for all the years I've been here. I went down and ordered a square meter of calcaire which is crushed limestone.  It was delivered on the back of a flatbed with a crane to lower the huge square sack on a pallet.

I spent about a week laying out the weed blocking fabric attached to the ground with big staple looking things.  (technical term).  After that, I shoveled a multitude of wheelbarrowfulls (technical term) of crushed limestone from the front of my building, through the boutique and out the back door and up to the terasse space.  I put in a layer about 3 inches or so (technical measurement) thick.  I also did a big space (technical measurement) out the back door of the boutique into the garden and a pathway to my back door from the kitchen.  I proceeded to dampen and tamp, dampen and tamp (technical techniques) and voila! I have a new terasse instead a shitpile that has been discussed ad nauseum as a great place for a terasse.  go me.

- I hand dug through thick sod grass from hell (t.t.) to create a space of about 30' x 20' for a kitchen garden. I did this in winter, doing about a meter or 2 a day. I had to do this twice to get down deep enough and break up the clumps of grass/soil.  Winter never got as cold as it should in order to kill off the grass clods in order to do a 3rd dig/clean but fortunately, Ian and Jean Yves came around and rototilled it in early spring.  They also helped plant (actually mostly planted) all the seeds I had chosen and even brought my requested out-of-the ordinary design to fruition incorporating some old iron bits and bobs and flowers and such.  It has been a joy even though the shit summer cockblocked my yield. yeah. i said it.

- I relocated 3 fruit trees and planted an olive tree (help from son also!)

- I removed all the old putty/glazing from a beautiful paned picture window in my soon to be sitting room that everyone insisted I should just replace as the window is too old, the insulation is bad, etc.  Not wanting a new window, not having the money to have a replica built or to pay someone else to repair the window - I set about carefully removing all of the old putty from the 16 panes. Finally, 6 had to be removed but that left 10 beautiful old hand blown wavy panes for gazing through and dreamily dreaming.  Just about the time to reputty and replace the panes, who shows up but Jean Yves who volunteers to help me.  Being JY, he also didn't mock or argue when I told him I wanted to relocate all the wavy panes to the lower level so I could look out them when I sit by the window.  We spent a day placing the glass just so and then I puttied, he smoothed/finished.  I left that to sit for nearly 2 weeks, to dry out and ready for painting.  I painted the window frame in a pretty soft grey that I blended and was very pleased with the color. But not so pleased because the mastic wasn't dry enought and the linseed oil has spotted through the paint after 2 coats.  I've left it for the moment while I sort out what to do next. In the meantime, I have painted all the window frames of the front windows of the house and repainted the shutters with another coat of white. oh and the front door too.

- we had several big rain/thunder/hailstorms in May which broke through a crappy broken skylight window and created a leak. no money for new roof so climbed up there and crab-crawled on hands and knees on the roman tiles for a few hours removing tiles, positioning a tarp, replacing tiles.  hope it holds up and makes the black and blue knees worth it. no pictures, so I guess that never happened. (i wish.)

so there. a short list of stuff I almost did my damn self so far this year. more to come.

oh hello little blog.  wonderful space that used to excite and inspire me.  my virtual kitchen table where I could sip on coffee and blather on and to my faithful (but probably somewhat bemused) followers.  Or load you all in the car to go with me on adventures in the french countryside and marvel along with me at the absolute improbability that I was actually HERE.  Doing this!

After all the ups and thrills and chills, I didn't have the heart to drag you through the bad and sad and dark and scary times.

But I am still here and things are better! and more upbeat ... I am doing new work and lucky to have it.  My boutique is still a part of my life and has evolved and grown. Oh how I love it most days, it is a pretty and colorful and sweet smelling place to pass some hours during the week. My customers have been faithful (like a few of my readers) and what a pleasure to have them enter and tell me how pretty they find it .. or fun .. or unique .. :-)

I have completed a few house projects - mostly documented on Facebook but I think I can and should also share them here.  That was something you all used to love ... I went through a period of being worn down by my worn out house ... but I am back at, doing the best I can with what I have and finding ways to make it more functional and cosier if not new and perfect. My next biggest worry is my roof and all fingers and toes are crossed that soon I will find a way to repair it before it caves in ! I try and focus on what I can do and not what I can't since it is out of my control anyway ...

a lot has happened ... my daughter went and got herself married! my son went and fell in love!

my dear buddy Louis lou lou left me last fall.

so yeah - some blows and some grows.  but all in all, I am still head over heels with France.  and hoping soon to share with you some convincing stories and arguments as to why.

I don't say it often enough little blog, but I do love you and what you gave to me... and readers, I owe you some tall tales so gonna get crackin' xx kimberlee

while you were out

poking around in my blog, trying to get a sense of my level of inspiration ... which is always a petite flame but hard to ignite.  Lo and behold, I have acquired about 15 new followers in my absence! this makes me chuckle ... of course one or 2 appear to be circling vultures waiting to attack the carcass ... but others seem to be legit.

Which leads me to wonder, is the secret to interest not writing at all? or just slagging off for months at a stretch, adding to the mystery of my so-called glamorous life? hmmmm.

it has been and up and down summer.  Cold wet weather was with us clear until June, I even had to ignite the heater in June!  July brought unfathomably hot heat, in the hundreds for days ... canicule (heat wave), which is nearly as devastating for merchants as the cold.

See, tourists skip the region for their summer visit if it is cold.  If it is hot, they may arrive but they can only muster the courage to visit the river, the lake, the beach and in the evening the terasse.  So restaurants might do ok (if they are by water) but the rest of us are in the shit.  Who wants to try on clothes and such when you are sweltering, drenched in sweat?  (of course if you have a/c, you might fare a bit better, but few do).

Pile on the economic woes of the region and the fact that probably 50% of French are not even leaving during their vacations and it makes for a challenging year.

Rumor (somewhat verified) has it that a score of shops and restaurants in Brantôme will close by winter.  I am sure that will be at least half a dozen.  This is sad.  Of course, we are a popular spot so other candidates will emerge in their stead.  I hope that those that quit are those more fly-by-night affairs who flung open their doors with the idea of making it big in a month or 2, and not those merchants who have been soldiering it on for years.

The Bohemians will persist and hope for better in 2014.  Next year is the 400 year birthday of our town's name sake, the author Brantôme (Pierre de Bourdeilles) and it seems there are a number of village festivities planned.  I hope those attract a larger number of visitors....and that our weather is improved and more even-keeled throughout the summer.

It is the year of the mayoral elections (2014) so that too will be interesting to observe and report upon.  I see pros and cons to our little village's administration, which I will share more about in the future.

Signing off for now and thanks to you newfound followers, hope you had fun poking around in the cobwebs.  Only 1 more to reach that nice round 100 mark.... perhaps I should wait a few months more before writing again, just to be sure we make it....

I wrote earlier about making my own chalkpaint and I also wanted to share what happened with the professional version .... drumroll ... Annie Sloan. I am sharing this from my boutique blog and site
as I have received some interest from both blog audiences.

I am kind of a day late and a dollar short, as the expression goes. Once I randomly started googling about ways to simplify my painting life given my abundance of projects and scarcity of time ... I discovered that my problem (endless preparation time for redoing furniture) had been solved ages ago. le sigh. because of the myriad of plaudits for the Annie Sloan brand, I decided to try it for my professional test. And now I will join the angelic chorus in shouting hallelujahs to painting high heaven, amazing amazing where have you been all my painting life?

First thing I noticed when opening the can is the luxurious whipped texture. Now this is a can that was shipped to me from Northern France. so it did not come to me fresh off the paint can shaker thing at the paint store (technical term there) so this texture is obviously inherent to the product. It is smooth like frosting, but a little less thick. I chose the Old White because it is presented as devoid of any color pigments (yellow or pink) and thus a welcoming base to any color.

I used the paint on a client project I had overwintered. A large, 2 piece buffet from the 60/70s, pine, covered in a hideous orangey varnish, so well known on pine of this timeframe. I felt this would make a handsome test for the Annie Sloan chalk paint claims of no sanding, no priming, just paint. Normally this sort of finish would reauire either complete sanding or 1-2 Coats of primer to avoid bleed-through to the new finish. especially a light colored finish.

My client had already chosen a color, somewhere between a seafoam and sage green ... the Annie Sloan duck egg made a close match. So I wanted to test not only the ease of using the product, how it matched up to its claims ... but also the economy of it as I have seen some complaints about pricing. For this project I ordered 1 liter of Old White and 1 test jar (100ml) of the duck egg paints, and one tin of the clear wax. I wanted to lighten up the color to get to my client's desire. I mixed approx. 1/3 of the white liter with 3/4 of the sample pot and several tablespoons of water to create the supply of paint for the exterior of the piece. I anticipated I might need to do 2 coats.

For the interior, I blended about 1/2 cup of the white with a yellow acrylic I already had. Also wanting to see how well the Annie Sloan product could integrate with other brands. I covered the entire buffet with one coat that went on smooth as silk, no streaks. I kept the consistency pretty thick like a pancake batter, not very watered down. I did a second coat solely on the top surface of the buffet as this area would experience the most wear.

I did the interior more as a wash because the old wood / veneer was fragile and slightly warped in places and I did not want to get it too wet. I had already contracted with my client not to do any repairs and I did not want to create any more work for myself! After the paint had dried, I was ready to wax.

With chalk paint, you apply wax vs. a clear topcoat of varnish. This goes against everything I have done for years and was the more awkward step of the new process. The weather was super cold here and the wax was not soft (as when it arrived in my warm kitchen) but really firm and difficult to get on the brush. I warmed it up a bit to room temperature and took another go. This will take some adapting on my part, but I can already see where I can improve my approach ... and a little extra research has given me some good tips. Like heating the wax to form more of a glaze you can lightly brush on and then go back to buff. In warmer weather I can see where this would not be a problem, but in my unheated atéliér in the frezing winter of countryside France it is a different story. You apply wax BEFORE sanding which also goes against all instincts for a clean final finish but trust me it worked! only sand what you want to distress or change the look of, you do not have to sand the whole piece to achieve a clean final finish. once you have done your sanding, you can buff the piece to the desired glow or shine. If it is a little streaky or you want it glossier you can add some wax and polish on. The wax adheres to the paint and through buffing creates a finish that will continue to harden and age to a nice patina.

One thing that kind of stumped me was the interior of cabinetry. I usually paint and topcoat the interiors and drawere for a more finished and clean outcome. I don't think it is feasible to wax and buff the interior of cabinetry. No worries there, you can topcoat chalkpaint as an alternative to wax. Which I did.

I am impressed by the ease of working with this product as well as how easily it adhered to the original finish on the furniture! As far as the cost goes ... here it was 22€ for the liter and 9€ for the sample pot. I estimate I used about 20€ of product on this very large two part piece. I did not sand and I did not pay for primer. I used my existing brushes and tools. At a minimum the expense was about the same. I still have plenty of the white paint and wax to use on another project. Which I already have planned! I also purchased a sample pot of their Antibes Green which I was immediately attracted to. I think I can stretch this for 2 projects I have ... wait and see!

I know there is a plethora of other techniques to discover with this paint such as layering more than one color and revealing with water vs sanding, using the dark wax to achieve an aged patina and some of the other specialized finish products like crackling ... but for now I give an enthusiastic 2 thumbs up!

 

merci madame la maire!

I found out last night that I am the talk of the village ....

see, after four years of hearing about it, this winter work commenced on the road outside my house. Big improvements are underway; it is all very exciting! The electricity and phone lines have been placed underground.  The street is being redone, it is being made narrower with a reduced speed limit more fitting of a road that passes by commerce and a school.  And best of all, sidewalks are being installed, yay for me and my shop!

yes, the work is a righteous pain in the ass.  I have never seen the level of rework in various stages, but I guess it is necessary because the road is a main artery in and out of the village.  So trenches are dug, work performed below, everything covered up and then a week later a new team arrives and trenches are dug, work performed below, etc. etc.  The street has been torn up since November, to varying degrees.

This is a major investment for the village and it is being accomplished in partnership with the Conseil General for our departement (county).  Just the modernization of the electricity is over 200,000€.  The project is a huge win for us, it improves the look and functionality of the road and ultimately the value of our property.  So, to me, it warrants the inconvenience.

The mayor's office has been quite accommodating. On more than one occasion, when I have had a question, I have been welcomed to the office to discuss or invited to meet with the project architect (a woman I might add!) to address my questions.  I greet the workers with a smile vs. a complaint, they are doing their jobs and in the end, I will benefit!

Many other folks along the road complain. and scowl. and grab the workers or mayor's representatives to provide a piece of their mind or whine about the inconvenience.

So when they arrived in front of my property (kind of in the middle of the entire project) on Valentine's Day to install the first tranche of sidewalks, I smiled.  Already I have heard grumblings because there are no parking spots alloted in front of my house or store.  Now I have a great expanse of beautiful walkways, and they are not just in plain cement but are pebbled which are really attractive.  The sidewalks are two meters wide!  It is like having a terrace in front of the house!  and on either side of me nothing has been installed.  The lead guy for the sidewalks told me 'vous avez la chance' I am lucky, because they are starting with me ... and a wink!

So I had to laugh last night at our soirée des filles (girls night) when one of the the women told me everyone is talking .... Yesterday was market day in the village and many people pass by my property to and fro.  This gal is a real Perigordine, and hears all the talk and chatter.  People are trying to figure out why I am the first to have the work done.  She told me someone said it must be because of my blue eyes ... ?? lol

I told them it is because I am the only one on the road who is not continuously kvetching but I always have 'une banane' (big smile) for everyone and guard my patience.

Probably it is just business as usual and the plan was to start at this point.  But it makes me chuckle to think of me as the center of the buzz!  tant mieux!

from if only to it's only ...

coming up on five years since I chucked caution to the wind to embark upon my mid-life adventure.

it is interesting to look back and see how it has changed me.

I spent a lot of years in If-Only mode.

If Only I my husband hadn't died.  If Only my mother had watched out for me.  If Only I had more money.  If Only I could meet 'the one'.  If Only I wasn't unwillingly raised in a cult. If Only I could speak French.  If Only I were thinner.  If Only I felt more secure.

I wasted a lot of time reflecting on these If-Onlies and more, and then trying to solve them.  Starts and stops, always starts and stops.  Some of them were solved by putting them in a box, locking up and throwing away the key.  Others were solved by striving for more, working more and yet, really doing nothing.  And still others I would start a plan, do a plan, discard a plan.  And get back to the easiest thing in my life, working.  The main part of my present was that.  The work.  Sure I was pretty good at it.  But it also afforded me a hiding place from which to practice my religion of If-Only.

Somehow, who really knows exactly how ... I started thinking about regrets.  I started thinking about how when my husband was killed and I was just a girl, really, five months pregnant ... I was so angry at the world and told everyone, 'that's it, fuck you ... it is all about me and this baby now.  I have learned a valuable and ugly lesson very early in life.  Lucky me!  It can all end in a blink.  Nothing is promised.  The hell with you all, I don't care what you think.  Going to live my life my way...

And then life began to happen as it can when you just sit in the canoe vs. take hold of the oars.  Life went this way and that ... my goal at first was really just to stay afloat.  don't go under Kim, you've got this baby girl counting on you.  So we floated.  Somehow we didn't sink.  But I didn't chart my course, I let the currents take me... away.

Away from my dreams, away from my pre-death self (young careless writer girl), away from my post-death self (young angry fighter girl) and slowly lulled into survivor-self (exhausted and numb working mom womanchild).

Sure, I had some highlights.  Take a look at the two kids that turned into amazing adults in spite of their broken mother with the growing case of If-Onlies.

well.  somehow I allowed, well maybe forced, myself to start to look back at those girls I once was.  and how I had turned into practically everything those girls did not want to become.  I took stock of where I was and how much time I might have left.  The dawning realization that I didn't want the rest to be like what had already transpired.  I had too many regrets and could take no more.  I plotted and planned and really, with a stroke of luck found the courage on that   one particular day to take a step in a different direction.  Through a long imagined and dreamed-after door that I could never find the key for.

Great.  I wish I could say and so she lived happilyeverafter.  Grab your dream and all your remaining life will be cake and ice cream and frosty cocktails and handsome lovers.  unicorns and fairy dust.

The funny thing about life is wherever you go, there you are.  So sure.  I discovered many of my If-Onlies. Read the blog... lol.

I changed.  I changed for the good and, hopefully temporarily, for the worse.  I came here on a high.   high of an amazingly successful career for a nobody like me.  I came here with a portfolio of security achieved through those days and months and years of work.  I came here with an American whirl of high-velocity drive to accomplish .... who knows what.

The ensuing years have chipped away at all that.  I arrived with an identity that no one cared about.  My high-faluting portfolio of security disappeared in the American housing crisis like a sugary fairy cake left in the rain.  My newfound compatriates regarded that high-velocity drive with a well-curated laissez-faire sneer of contempt for the ways of an étranger.

As my idea of what life would be has evolved to what my life is... I have learned to adjust.  Anyone who really knows me know that my sole claim to fame, the quality above all else that has allowed me to survive is .... my adaptability... it is a hallmark of the abused child.  I have earned an advanced degree.

I have been shaken to my core in the past few years.  A couple of those years, I have earned less in the entire year than I did in a month, old life.  I have eaten and choked on more humble pie than I care to admit.  I have had moments of such self-doubt and loathing ...experienced moments of abject futility and failure.  And yet, I am here.  Living my dream.  Fighting to preserve what's left.  Aiming high to rebuild anew.  Drawing inspiration from those I used to inspire.

Life is funny that way.  At one of my lowest moments, I was in the U.S. for a few months, taking any and all work that I could find in order to stay afloat.  Because of the kindness of friends who allowed me to sleep in their spare rooms, drive their extra car, recommend me for an odd job here or a nice project there ... I was able to make it through another winter.

But it was this next little moment that led me to a sunnier spot inside my dark and musty persona.  And it was given to me by someone who I inspired for many years.  I nurtured and fretted over and fought with and tried to give the best example to in spite of my pain.  My beautiful daughter.

In America, I worked in her shop.  Painting furniture.  Something I love and yet even that left me intimidated and doubting ... I had reached a point of feeling so worthless and stupid.  What the hell was I doing? Had I destroyed my life? all those doubting voices that many of us are familiar with were now shouting at a feverish pitch.  I had in mind that everything I had done was just. well. wack. lol.

And so I am painting some piece of furniture.  And I messed it up. And I was so upset about it.  Somehow, all of my fears and insecurities and anger and disappointment were now summed up by this fucking piece of furniture and the shitty mess I made of it.  Johnelle was there, looking at it and looking at me.  I was nearly crying (well, probably crying).  And she looked at me and said, Mom, don't worry about it.  It's only paint. really, who cares? It's only paint.

I don't even know if she realizes what those 3 little words did.  I felt released and reprieved.  It was like...everything else was okay too.  Because It's Only.  It's only things.  It's only money.  It's only stuff.  It's only.

Really guys, It's Only has become my new rule of thumb.  Because life is too goddamn short and complicated and hard.  When something breaks. When something goes wrong. When something falls short, I use the It's Only litmus test.

Like, you probably wouldn't say It's Only Stage4 terminal cancer.  But you would say It's Only a crystal vase (that broke).

You would avoid saying It's Only a dog when your friend's 16 year-old pet/companion got run over. But you would say It's Only a stupid job interview, there will be others.

You probably wouldn't go with It's Only rape.  But It's Only my umpteenth break-up. le sigh. but ... meh not so awful, really.


See what I mean?  There is a much shorter list of things than we think that really matters.  I have gotten caught up and released and recaptured so many times in the tangled net of what other people, societies, media lies have told me that are important.

thank you Johnelle for inspiring me with your beautiful life lesson.  

Now that I realize that pretty much It's Only bullshit, I am finding myself back on track.  Charting a new course that pleases me.  But more than that, thankful that nearly all of my problems and worries are not If Onlies and mostly It's Onlies.

painting, painting

So I have been playing around with paint, investigating options to make it easier, prettier, easier, for myself.



I have been dabbling in painted furniture for about ten years now.  When we first opened Mignonne Decor many years ago, we didn't paint the furniture, we bought it from artisans.  My daughter, the artist, became inspired to try her hand at it, first for the savings .... but finally as her passion.

I had dabbled here and there in various crafty projects for a while, but never seriously until moving to France.  But before that, I started collecting painted furniture for my homes ... never thinking so much about technique but just being drawn to pretty pieces.

There was a little shop on the coast of Oregon, a collective, where I met Darla, someone whose furniture continuously drew me back and sparked a flame in me about the beauty of the old becoming new again.  I blab on about this because she has been on my mind while I conduct my experimentation with chalky type paint and its merits.  See, this little table I am working on is one of the first pieces I bought from Darla.  It was just a plain creamy color.  But so many little details ... the rollers, the lion paw feet, the gateleg, the insert, the carved edging ... she has travelled far with me, this little lady and is in need of a touch-up! I hope to learn something new and do her justice for one of my early inspirers!  Darla, if you are out there ... I think of you often!

So, regarding paint.  I stumbled across some videos demonstrating and debating the virtues of various paints...milk paint, craft paint, chalk paint...various brands like Miss Mustard's Milk Paint, Ce Ce Caldwell's true blue American paint, Annie Sloan's sophisticated English Chalk Paint ... I found homemade recipes for paint that include growt, calcium carbonate, baking soda, plaster of paris ... antiquing treatments with boot polish, walnuts, coffee grounds ... wow!!! talk about Alice's hole of painting wonderland!

I will be honest.  I have too much to do and not enough time to do it.  Last year, my furniture inventory suffered because I was stretched too thin. I love doing my furniture but there were not enough hours in the day or energy to do it all.  And since I have been considering offering some workshops, I want to make it easier for my customers too. So when I started reading about chalk paint eliminating mountains of prep time, I made one of those Scooby Doo snorts and started researching.

Being in one of those too much to do moments presently, I decided to start my experimentation with the homemade version.  I am leaving in a day or two to head to Paris for the Maison et Objet show in Paris. 

I opted to mix up the Plaster of Paris/paint version to create a type of chalk paint.  I am no expert, the little I know is that the chalky substance allows the paint to adhere much more strongly to the surface you apply it to, theoretically allowing you to eliminate the sanding and priming prepwork I so judiciously adhere to with all of my furniture. 

I whipped it up and painted my little table.  It was slightly gritty in bits, even after looking like the pancake batter  texture recommended.  It dried like a matte paint, a bit rougher and brush strokes were evident.  I used two coats on a painted, polycoated surface.  It sands like a dream, becoming smooth.  For the bottom, legs and such, I proceeded zith the recommended wax vs. poly, applied with a brush and then I buffed it.  Nice result.  Since this is a kitchen surface piece, I think I will poly the top.  This format was easy enough to work with but from what I see, would be most useful on distressed furniture vs. modern slick undistressed effect you might use on later dated furniture.

After the conference, I am ordering some Annie Sloan product to test.  I have heard nothing but rave reviews about this paint and I am looking forward to testing it out.  If anyone has thoughts to share, please do? how interested would you be in having this product available in the Dordogne? perhaps with some workshops? have you used it before and what did you think? inquiring minds and all!!!





I am sharing this on both of my blogs ... trying to get the most feedback with reader experiences!


so that is it for now, my slam packed agenda calls!!! more updates soon about the great paint experiment!!

greetings from the trenches. ugh.

so unbelievably I am still here in the (notso)united states of america. without going into all of the gory details, the truth is I decided to come and spend the winter months building up reserves for the coming year. I have a number of projects on the plate in the next two years related to growing my business and decided to try for some supplemental funding. winters in the Dordogne are quiet and cold and my prospects seemed better by taking this route.

I have been in an ongoing state of culture shock (previously mentioned) since arriving. there are obviously some positives as well. I've gotten to spend more time with my kids than I have in quite awhile. I have hung out with my dear friend Christie a lot, so fun.

I am staying in a sweet little cottage (my daughter's) and have the use of a car (thank you baby) and an iPhone for connectivity. The cottage is sans television (yay!) so I have been soaking up public radio to keep up with all of the turmoil in the world ... and also here in the states.

From time to time, I get access to one friend or another's computer, like today ... so I am taking advantage to do this update. I miss home terribly, my house, my friends, my little dogs ... and can't wait to get home and get settled in to start my third business season!

I have been having fun tracking down this project and that ... I have landed some "rental agent" work (prepping, marketing and renting investment properties) which are going well. Also been helping in the shop here, continuing to work on furniture and pick up tips from Johnelle. And I have other gigs in the hopper.

It is funny. Yesterday on NPR there was a bit on american un and under-employment. Interviewing a few different couples where individuals had gone from making 6 figure salaries to struggling to find entry level work. or piecing together part-time jobs. and projects. the only difference between them and me is that I am over the moon to be in my current state versus my old corporate career and they are longing to return to the grind!!! My life is so much more interesting and satisfying than it used to be, I can't imagine returning to the old approach. ever.

In general, it seems many Americans have surrendered to what have been considered the 'norms' of society (consumerism, keeping-up, symbols of so-called prosperity) and continue to strive to maintain at any cost, or feel inadequate if they can't sustain the old ways...

Another thing I find so surprising is how accepting of media reporting or 'misinformation' it seems folks here are. I guess I thought after all of the woes American society has been through in the past few year ... such as financial crises where corporations and banks are 'bailed out' by the government while the average american is really struggling and losing ground ... more people would be reacting against corporate interests, and demanding more for the average citizen.

Instead it appears Americans are angry at each other. and seem to be more than willing to blame each other versus some of the obvious inequities ... for example ... there is a huge budget crisis here right now and there is a lot of reporting coverage over what to do. Naturally, the 2 parties are having a media battle over it all. State governments are also struggling. With the recent elections, Republicans have regained power in Congress, and several republican governors were elected.

Spending cuts are being proposed all over the map ... with the (surprise surprise) exception of the military, Medicare, Social Security. So instead, social benefits are in the cross hairs....benefits for the poorest segments of the country. Oh and of course, no revenue increases (tax increases) and in fact, tax cuts for the rich put in during the Bush years have been extended!!!! The majority of big corporations in America pay no federal taxes!

So instead, what I've been hearing about is the elimination of public radio. cutting in half a national program that pays for heat during winter for the nation's poor. efforts to reverse the health care bill. cuts to food programs for the poor. cuts to programs for teens leaving the foster care system with no family or support system to rely upon as they enter society.



And the latest craze. union busting. elimination of collective bargaining for workers. and weirdly enough, many non-union workers in the private sector have jumped on the bandwagon and clamor for unions to be disbanded. screaming (in a very inaccurate and misinformed fashion) that public workers (many unionized) are 'pampered' and should have to suck it up and help the country recover....instead of realizing how fucked they are without a union, without being organized to ensure proper working conditions, pay levels and benefits are in place. Governments (state and fed) are crying broke (and maybe some of them are) ... but there are deep pockets of opportunity in many arenas outside of worker's backs and they should be drawn upon. More workers should be organizing. Don't they see there is a REASON the private sector fights unionization so aggressively? When I was in my old life, I was sent to courses on how to detect signs of potential organizing and what to do to nip it in the bud. Scare tactics like 'you'll lose your job, this plant will close, etc.' are put in place for the simple reason that it is the corporations that are afraid ... afraid of losing a cent of profit. Watch any of the protest coverage here and you will see citizens protesting against citizens protesting!!!
2010 was the second most profitable year in the entire HISTORY of the American stock market. Corporations are posting the largest profits ever. Banks are back to paying bonuses again. or finding creative ways to award the fatcats by drawing the least amount of attention. and banks are back to redlining, beginning to aggressively close branches in poor neighborhoods. I could list on and on the dismal reports I've heard. The gap in salary between rich and poor has never grown faster! the middle class is shrinking at unheard of rates.


Lots of news programs and talk shows inquire "what are YOU willing to do to help out the country?". My reply (and yours should be too) not a damn thing until the government stops bailing out the rich and treating corporations like royalty. not a damn thing while we feed the voracious appetite of the military. not a damn thing while over 50 million people are uninsured. while 8 million people considered 'employed' have poverty level part-time jobs. not lifting a fucking finger while millions have been unemployed so long they don't even show up on the rolls anymore. ZERO effort while we fund lobbyists and corporate farms and prop up international dictatorships and pat oil companies on the back.

it is really depressing to see what is happening in this land. I frankly just don't get how so many people just don't seem to get it. that the government is there for the people. Citizens are the employers of these bozos. and these bozos need to be fired.

I am ever so slightly heartened to see people in Wisconsin taking a stand. People power needs to spread. there absolutely needs to be a major course correction in this country. Continued striking would be awesome and it would be wonderful if it spread to the extent that businesses and corporations had to pay attention.

somehow I don't think it will happen. Americans are easily discouraged. and unwilling to feel much pain ... or maybe think they are numb to it. Around the world, folks are risking (and losing) their lives to live in a democracy.

Here not very many people seem inclined to leave their armchairs in order to maintain the elements that made their democracy great.

je suis une champignonniere!

Today I went mushroom hunting with my neighbor and friend, Nicole.  She is a champion of the forest, a veritable ange des champignons, could it have anything to do with being named Dubois?  she adores her precious Perigord region and until today, seemed reticent to bring me along to her secret places...but invite me she did and I jumped at the chance.

I have been a few times before with groups, never being any good at it but enjoying the walk.  Today, it rained softly and the first hour or more, we found zilch.  We were on our third location when we struck gold.

Nicole had found three or four cèpes, and was decidedly downcast.  Me, I found lots of inedible stuff that had to be put back.  But now, after a few outings, I am confident in this variety ... cèpes, of the boletus family, a cousin to porcinis so I am told. 
















Finally! I spotted a corner of a mushroom hiding under a branch.  A big cèpe noir, a luscious dark brown cap (or chapeau), firm and enormous stem ... entirely edible.  I had stumbled upon a grove, it seemed! Suddenly we were discovering them left and right.  Big and small.  They are clever, these fungi, hiding themselves under grass and leaves, camouflaged well.  We estimate our hall at about ten kilos of mushrooms!!!  check the prices out on those babies and you will see why we were reluctant to depart.

Now, I am gently sautéeing them in only olive oil, after which they will be frozen for winter. 

Day by day, I am trying to recover that woman that tossed everything to the wind to come here ... and also to recover those experiences that made it all worthwhile! like mushroom hunting.  doing my own small winter projects.  Improving my french.  expanding my ring of friends.

I have been lost, struck hard by financial uncertainty and trying not to lose it all! my zest, my foothold here, my adoration of this feisty land and her citizens.  nothing that has happened to me is france's fault ... thankfully!  no, the reality is that France keeps trying to save me.  And she is succeeding, along with my help.

As I wandered in the woods today, I thought about the time when mankind here relied on such activities for survival.  I wonder if they took pleasure in the act itself or when turning up empty handed, returned to their living spaces stressed and concerned?  for surely, they were like the squirrels preparing for the cold winter.  No Carrefours were around to ensure full larders.  They of course planted and reaped, bartered and sold and bought in the village open markets.  and they foraged, and found ways to preserve and store their precious foodstuffs without electricity's helping hand.  Life was without doubt precarious and yet, I can also imagine the pleasure of being in their land, their woods, observing all that nature could provide or would in coming seasons.





Today, we not only had a bounty of lovely cèpes, the forest floor was littered with hazelnuts and chestnuts.  we could see the beds of coming girolles in spring.  the ground was a veritable natural compost layer in action, rich earthy springy goodness.

what a delightful day.... I'm beginning to remember those again.

a long cold winter.

I've reopened my blog. I have had much to say and nothing to say... I shut it down because I had laryngitis of my writing voice.

Unlike many blogs I have read, I began my blog filled with excitement and hope and optimism about my coming adventure. Writing about my experiences, sharing the ride brought me great joy.

I struggled writing in the last year because I was struggling in life. I know I probably could have written a lot about all my challenges and received positive words of support. I have even, from time to time, written about a down point here and there. But when it came to the point where it seemed in staring at my keyboard, I could find nothing but personal turmoil and difficulty, I could only shut down for a pause.

At some point I may share some of the challenges which I think might relate to someone considering making such a leap as mind ... I might be able to give some tips to manage or overcome potential hazards.

Suffice it to say, sometimes we become so wrapped up in the stress and problem of the moment, it is hard to step back and look at the bigger picture ... it can become a matter of digging in to find make it through each day.

This blog of mine has always been a pretty open and transparent lens into my life. When I felt the only view I could give was through a strong filter, I decided just to cap the lens for awhile.

I hope to be able to get back into my groove here, write more and move to the next chapter. Not only has writing here given me great pleasure ... I have made some great friends and acquaintances simply from this site. I would hate to lose that future possibility.

à bientôt!

man's inhumanity to man.

just a short note regarding recent developments related to the 'arab spring'.

the darkness of the human spirit is evident, even in the midst of individuals professing to fight for freedom in their world.

I have been sickened to read the ever-deteriorating stories about the fall of M. Gaddafi. First were the elated news bites that he and members of his entourage had been captured. Then, reports of his dying of wounds received during a battle. To follow were more reports, ever changing stories and then videos of the depravity.

One reads he was found hiding in a drainage ditch. He was shot in the legs, suffered a head wound and died in an ambulance on the way to medical attention. No wait, he was captured and though bloodied, coherent and speaking to his captors, telling them "don't kill me, my sons". But also, videos emerge of his killer being congratulated for shooting him in the head. Oh but the head of the transitional government says he was killed by his own people. Today, a video emerges of him being sodomized ... who knows what further degradations will emerge.

I am sickened by all of this. to those who say he was a despot, guilty of terrible acts, I do not doubt it. To those congratulating Western governments on their success in Libya ... so clean, so quick, I say look in a mirror, you hypocrites.

It is disgusting the fleeting memories that exist in the world. How proud we are of governments whose greater integrity can only be measured in the slightest variation of gray. The United States, France, United Kingdom and others have provided financial support, military weapons and other aid to the most flagrant violators of human rights, requiring only that their demands are met. When that fades, US and other nation's backs are turned.

Gaddafi for example. How is it that Lockerbie was forgotten and Libya's leader was welcomed back into the fold? when it was convenient and to the benefit of the countries involved. And when it became expeditious to turn on him again, well then ... so many modern examples of this scenario exist it is mindboggling. Kennedy and Johnson's governments played these types of chess games with other governments and people's lives. Nixon...Reagan's administration did it. Both Bush Administrations did it. Carter, Clinton and Obama's as well. American hands are as bloody as any.

It seems now in Libya we have ushered in one set of depraved 'leaders' on the tail of another. Drowned out by the celebratory back-slapping are the weak cries from human rights groups to investigate what has happened.

The number of civilized societies in this world are dwindling and those that remain are at risk. These are dark times we live in.

we now return you to your regular programming...

first off, apologies.

I needed to take a break from things here, I am going through some serious changes in life and haven't yet decided what to get into here and what to leave private...also some of the changes mean that maybe I don't want my life to be the same open book it has been these past three years.

unfortunately, I still haven't figured that all out yet. so for now, I am going to continue writing about this and that and try to divine the direction for my writing.

yesterday, on my way to see a man about a horse ... lol, no but seriously yesterday on my way to see a man about a door purchased on leboncoin (a french site similar to craigslist), on a random seemingly deserted country road in the middle of nowhere I stumbled upon a newly erected monument, not yet open to the public ... jutting up from a large field, accopanied only by a lone oak tree and remnants of a stone wall. this beautiful monument of a combat soldier with a dead or dying comrade in his arms, was a sombre anthracite grey, on top of buttery limestone. It was erected in memory of American soldiers and marks the site of one of the first major battles, involving Americans, of the first world war. Over 1100 soldiers, french,german, american, were injured in this field and 162 Americans died there. This was the Battle of the Croix Rouge Farm, July 25-26, 1918. Nimrod T. Frasier, the son of one of the injured soldiers and a director of the foundation at Croix Rouge Farm, helped sponsor this monument in memory of his father and his father's comrades. These soldiers were from the Rainbow Division of Alabama, part of the U.S. National Guard.

There was not a soul around, not a car, a person, an animal. yesterday, it was a cold, foggy, misty day in the north of France; to view this monument you had to climb down a large ditch and up again, or scramble across a pile off large boulders. I really had no idea what we had stumbled across ... until I did more research. I discovered the real significance of this battle ... and the sculpture itself. It was difficult to imagine this peaceful farm field as it was on that summer day, filled with young soldiers battling in blood soaked fields, the soldiers remaining alive recounted hand-to-hand combat unlike any other they had experienced. The fortified farm buildings blasted from existence, a small stretch of stone wall all that remains.

Instead of regurgitating everything that has already been so carefully documented on a wonderful site here, let me just tell you it is worth the visit. To the website or the actual site, whichever you can manage.

The dedication of this monument and opening of the site will be November 12th. The sculpture made its first stop in England and it looks so different and formal in the picture I have shared. Mounted on plain blocks of French limestone in the middle of a large nearly empty field, accompanied only by a lone tree, the remnant of a wall and a lone stone bench ... its charcoal color seems more like a charred ghostly remnant of the piteous nature of battle.

I am going to try and make the dedication but if not, I feel as if I have already had my own private reception. an american, stumbling across something so profound and installed specifically in remembrance and support of franco-american relations. indescribably touching;

just another random Saturday of my french life.

summer is winding down ...

went to a dinner / barbeque Monday night ... will be about the last (felt like it anyway) of the summer's outdoor fêtes. school starts on Friday ... at least six of the guests are teachers and they are gearing up for the year.

three picnic tables were drawn together and covered with colorful cloths. when I arrived there was a huge circle of chairs, with everyone seated ... glasses in hand. I made the round of bises (everyone rose and there were only one or two vous-es in the group)

one of the guests manned the rosé and sirop de pamplemousse. there were all sorts of apéro nibblies, smoked salmon cake, huge bowl of melon balls, a gorgeous pate de campagne and another of rillettes de canard.

about 20 adults, plus kids. me, the only non-French. I managed some topics and followed several conversations. there were some fast talkers there! as dusk descended, it was not too cold and the bats made their whooshing appearance to partake of their daily apéro, insect-hunting high in the sky and treating us to their acrobatic swoops and swirls.

later it was a simple meal. i know some of you are always curious about the meal: bbq'd sausages (merguez and chipolatas - good quality ones), some big salads (endive, apple & emmenthal, bow tie pasta with tomatoes and onion, a big rice salad with vegetables) ... oh and an absolutely amazing ham quiche ... made with the real savory, unpackaged ham, a bit crispy and just divine ... then a huge platter of cheese and beautiful bread ... desserts : pear tart, raspberry tart, chocolate tart, nut tart ... and good red wine throughout. we finished with coffee. so yeah, not haute cuisine but simple and delicious and seasoned with laughter and friendship under the stars.

I sat eating and staring up at the leaves of the enormous tilleul tree tossing magical shadows on the buttery stone walls ... entertained by the musical notes of french voices filling the air and realized that I have indeed connected with this place. the smells, the sounds the colors of my life here resonate like no other. if I were a believing kind of person instead of the stubborn atheist that I am, I would think that I have lived here in former lives ... based on the fact that I have been drawn here for years and years like no other. and the sense of belonging that I have discovered since giving in to that pull and finding a way to get here.

but I was talking about summer's end. my fourth summer here. still head over heels.

the nights are starting to get a little fresh. summer is backing out of the room. soon flashy autumn will be here with her colorful, attention-grabbing glory and start stealing the show.

talk about seeing fur fly ... eep!

living in a centuries-old stone house means not a lot of closet space. Okay, basically NO closet space. so you get creative. of course, armoires, chests etc.

but I have also used the stairwell to the third floor attic as a storage space. I rigged up a crossbar and have hung a couple of hanging shoe thingamajigs; as well as using the steps as storage places.

so this morning I am rummaging through the shoes to find some grey boots, grab them and as I am getting ready to close the door I have this impression of something fuzzy and grey brush my hair and shoulder and then I hear a plopping sound.

I look down and see a mouse kind of bellyflopped on a step.

screech. ensuing door slam. minutes of shudders.

no, I didn't reopen the door. why oh why did my cat run away? she had plenty of options here! tempted to get another but in my current state of flux, doesn't seem wise.

anyone willing to stop by and check my cupboard?

funny little things I am forever finding in french

so four years into my life here and I still don't consider myself fluent. lots of people who know me disagree but I feel I have kind of plateau'ed for the moment ... and for the life of me I still blow most of the verb conjugations for "ils" ... j'ai un vrais tête de bois!

but here is another funny little thing just found ... the french view american eating habits as disastrous. (no that is not the funny little thing, I have known that for quite awhile now). I have heard lots of comments about folks who have been appalled after visiting the states ... things like americans are ALWAYS eating ! you walk down the street and people are eating as they walk! you drive in your car and look to your left and there is someone behind the wheel, eating! and so on ...

and yet, not only is there a plethora of comestibles in the metro here, but there are named times throughout the day just for eating.

maybe that is the trick, you eat at these designated times or you don't eat. a little more discipline is in order! I remember how shocking I found it on my first visit that if you didn't arrive at most village restaurants by 1:30 pm or so, you will have missed lunch. "complet" you will be told, and tant pis for you!

Here is a list of designated eating times

petit déjeuner ~ breakfast, early and usually simply coffee and a small pastry or baguette and butter with jam

en cas ~ just learned this one, "in case", typically a small something either tucked into a school child's pocket or worker's sack ... a small piece of fruit or bread in case you can't make it till lunch.

déjeuner ~ lunch and it begins at noon and is a proper meal. You sit at a table for it, cutlery is required and this includes the schoolchildren. You will have a starter and a main, fromage or dessert. You will finish with coffee and nobody will look askance if it is accompanied by some wine. Everyone has time for a real meal since, except for big cities, all of the shops, banks, and other stuff will have closed. For two hours.

quatre heure ~ 4:00pm, another small snack ... mostly children indulge but I know many adults who rub their tummies and take something as well.

apéro ~ 7ish, a beverage and little salty somethings such as nuts or a savory cake. Aperitif is not just for adults, kids have a sparkling beverage. It lasts no more than an hour and is a civilized end to the workday, a chance to connect with friends before returning home for ...

diner ~ yes, dinner time and traditionally during the week (although this is sadly changing and fast becoming a concern in France) this will be a lighter meal than midday ... perhaps a soup, a bit of pasta or a protein and a vegetable which balance out the midday meal.

I don't know if there is something yet after dinner. Since I just discovered 'en cas' this week, it is highly possible!

So yes there is ongoing eating in France as well, but it has been a more formal affair ... and until recently, it seems the population has been in better shape physically, as a result. But there is some concern that lifestyles of the younger generation are morphing towards american values.

there have been some national awareness campaigns to try and reverse this trend. The schools are involved in this effort, and in addition to the balanced meals they present to the kids, they keep the parents informed and even recommend possible evening meals that are appropriate nutritionally to complete the day's regime.

I suppose americans would say all of their non-mealtime eating was just 'en cas'.

probably ... ^cough cough^

telling time by traffic noise ...

wow folks, I think about my blog and blog readers daily ... but with sufficient projects to fill 48 hours in a day, I am woefully neglectful (hangs head in shame).

but I refuse to give up my blog all together and cling to the fantasy that someday I will be able to write everyday again. of course, it is probably all a matter of will. henri says to write a little story every day and in a year I will have a book. hmmmm....

so, the season is nearly upon us here in my corner of the Sud Ouest. By this week-end, thousands of visitors will begin to descend on our region and our village. many thousands. 3/4 of the year, the fact that my house is next to the main road out of town makes no difference at all. But during this part of the year, a steady stream of traffic flows by at particular times of day...

I never ever use an alarm unless I have an early plane to catch. I do not wear a watch. and I try not to look at clocks, relying on church bells for managing the shop hours. One blissful advantage of my new life.

But during the season, the road guides my timetable as well. I always know when it is around 8:00 a.m. because the road livens up. and then, just about a quarter to noon, it's on again. fast forward to 2:00ish and we know lunch time is ending. Finally, starting a bit before 5:00 p.m., a last flow for the day.

When school is in session (since I live just across the road from the Ecole Maternelle) I am also reminded of when it is around 4:00 p.m. because a few busses arrive. I love living across from the school and hearing the joyous shouts of children on the playground. Do you remember that buzz in the air when you and your schoolmates would rush, en masse, to release that pent-up energy from sitting in a school room? All of the voices merge together to form one large roaring giggle at the simple pleasure of being outdoors, free to run and jump and play.

My first summer here (just when I arrived in July and August) I wasn't so sure if I was going to like this summer noise. I bought my house in April, when the town was quietly springing to life ... soft sunshine, birds chirping, easy strolls through silent streets. I was shocked to hear the sounds just outside my windows ... that was before I decided to open my shop.

Now, the traffic sounds make me smile at the thought of travellers from around the world arriving to ooh and ahh at the beauty of our village. and also smile because maybe they will wander a bit up the road from the 'centre ville' and find my funny little store that they can't figure out... because it isn't exactly a furniture store, or a clothes shop, or a décor boutique, or a jewelry haunt or an art gallery ... no, it is all of those rolled into one ... with an open ateliér/workshop to boot. The french (in general) are more accustomed to a store with one purpose. So they find my little place a bit out of the ordinary.

which is ok. because I am probably a little bit out of the ordinary myself!

I'll keep checking in ... doing my best with an update during the crazy seasonal months. hope you do too!

miam miam >>>

My life has become insane in regards to work and available time...work is infringing upon my dream a bit (another post entirely) and it is difficult to even find time to shop for food ... let alone go to market day and seek out the most beautiful that France has to offer.

but somehow ... just when I am getting discouraged about things, someone ... something ... hears my silent cries and poof! ANSWERS APPEAR~ like magic I tell you ... hee hee

So enter the Panniers des Roches (probably going to have to go back and respell that later) ... there I was in the shop (when am I NOT in the shop these days? but anyhoo) last Friday ... arranging things and this woman comes in for a look. we get to talking and she asks if she can put some brochures up about her business. I say sure, what's your business and she points across the street and says "des panniers" ... I ask what panniers and she explains that .... drum roll ....

her and her husband have an organic farm near Nontron (about 20 minutes up the road) and they deliver vegetable baskets to subscribers. I ask if I can have a look and we cross the road where they deliver to the local primary school every Friday. She shows me a basket for 1 person and it is chock full of the most beautiful produce!!! I ask the cost and she tells me 11 euros per week. 3,50€ supplement if you choose, where it rotates weekly between sweet and savory. You will get homemade cornichons...or confiture... or other yummy stuff.

I decided (in about 10 seconds) to give it a try. So today I received my first pannier. Here is what I got:

1. The most beautiful head of lettuce EVAH!!! (ok picture sucks but you can still see how massive it is.

2. Two large fennel bulbs.

3. Two GINORMOUS artichokes.

4. A bunch of carrots just pulled, dirt clinging (maybe 12 of them)

5. A paper bag of new red potatoes.

6. Fresh sorrel.

7. A large bunch of fresh radishes.

8. A recipe for a galette with fennel and new potatoes.

So. instead of feeling sorry for myself that I am too busy to go to market day every week (only now and then), I am celebrating the discovery of this enormous luxury of having amazing fresh organic produce delivered to my door every week for a paltry sum... I will still enjoy France's bounty and be able to cook some delicous and healthy food.

I am still one of the luckiest girls in the world. sure, my dreams have become a bit tarnished here and there ... or maybe it is just that I am working harder for them. but they are still there!!

ALL of it is gorgeous. and it was 11 euros.

life is cool.

the season has yet to commence and still, I am a bit exhausted! the shop needed some major clean-up and refreshing and this year I am doing more vide-greniers to generate more awareness of the shop and also more revenue ... but that old adage remains true about it being different if you are working for yourself and not someone else (particularly if that someone else is a huge corporation )

all in all life IS cool!

let me tell you about a guy I met. it all seems slightly coincidental. not long after I had painted over Salle de Vente on my door and replaced it with my overall philosophy ... a youngish guy comes walking up the road and, having read the new sign, sees Henry and strikes up a conversation. in English. american english.

I am in back in the garden and here comes Henry and this tall young fellow. "Kim, this is Tyler" .... hmmmm, tyler is my son's middle name. "I invited him to have an apero with us" ... (my favorite time of day by the way) Tyler is from California... ok curious, I go and grab three cold ones given it is a very warm day. how did tyler from california happen to find me?

well tyler is walking across Europe. he started at Berlin with the smallest bag imaginable for such a journey. no he really isn't like the myriad of 20somethings you see barely able to lift those huge backpacks. Tyler is early 30s in hightop converse and is walking/hitching his way to the southern tip of spain. he is a photographer. he is on an extraordinary journey which may last for life.

see, tyler graduated from prestigious Georgetown University and went straight into investment banking. tall and handsome, I can only imagine the tenor of his life back then. after a period of a year or two, (yup much smarter than me) he realized how pointless, how absolutely soulless this profession was that he chose and determined to leave. he remained a while longer, saving for his escape. and then he walked away. He loved photography and went to LA and got work there in the television and film industry. after some time, he left that to pursue individual projects. last year he was in morocco and lived with a berber family; photodocumenting their lives. he had some funny anecdotes to share ... including how eventually he bought a rickety vespa in morocco for 300 bucks and ended up riding it all the back from Morocco to London ... imagine the tales!

this year he is taking 3 months to walk across Europe ... and then will be spending several months back in Morocco, hopefully finding the family he was with and finsihing up his work with them ... with the goal of maybe doing a book about the experience. I am witholding his full name to respect his privacy at the moment.

he has his own internal "rules" for his trip ... no buses or trains or airplanes ... just walking or hitchiking. He hitches quite a bit and leaves it up to the drivers to somewhat determine his path. that is how he ended up being dropped off down the road from me. as long as it is comfortable, he takes a photo of each driver.

I ended up telling him my own escape story. he had lots of questions about living abroad. I confess I am surprised I didn't frighten him off xith my enthusiasm and ardor for France. after about 20 minutes or so, we invited him to stay with us. we shared a wonderful, impromptu meal and I finally left him and Henry gabbing on at midnight. I was too exhausted to do dishes, I had our first vide grenier the next day. we rose early and tiptoed out for the event, the kitchen looked like a war zone.

I had offered tyler the use of my bike to toodle around and when I returned, he was gone but the kitchen was spotless!!

tyler stayed 2 nights, enjoying our big guest bed and few comforts of home. he told us more about his life and his family and we shared more about life here in France. another coincidence ... tyler's sister's name is Paige. which is my middle name. and the middle name of my daughter. just sayin' ... by the second morning, I could sense he was getting the itch to go ... he declined offers of rides and help, I think he was longing for the solitude of his journey. he gave us a small bottle of wine, collected from another journey, as a token of thanks. later that day, I also discovered a small gift to me of delicious handmade soap. I pictured his small stash of goodies in his bag that he collects and then proffers as he moves along.

he shared with us he is seeking a way to leave the US and live abroad somewhere. who knows, maybe he will end up in Europe somewhere. his family sounds amazing and meeting him was a wonderful coincidence, a reaffirming coincidence that there are indeed other seekers out there, other crazy folks like me, stumbling around on the road less travelled ... trying to find our place in this world.

yes indeed, life is cool.

big day tomorrow!

finally ready to reopen The Bohemians!

after over three months in the states and just about 2 weeks back in France, we are there. Did a vide-grenier last week-end and focused all week on painting, cleaning, rearranging. Working from dawn to dusk with Henry to get it all together.

made a quick overnighter to the Tarn et Garonne to visit our friends from Raison d'Art and to gather some beautiful new art pieces by Bruce Anderson for the shop ... then made a beeline back to continue working on everything.

Today, I delivered Henry to the gare in Limoges and now, going to go continue arranging and preparing ...

soon I am sure I will have something more profound to share ... like my observations being an American in France observing the meltdown surrounding DSK in New York (Dominique Strauss-Kahn). for the moment, wow. Just WOW. that about sums it up!

xx

beginning of a trend?

still wading through New Yorkers. Okay I confess, still wading through the May 9 New Yorker. And I know it was a recent subject, but hell found another quote to inspire me to streams of (hopefully)consciousness. we'll see.

but first let me tell you why I am only to page 30.

I arrived back in Brantôme a week ago Friday (you calculate the dates, my mind's a whirl and I am lucky I can pinpoint that much). Henry and I decided to drive at night and we actually made excellent time, getting in at around 3:00 a.m. The week-end was spent doing our premier checklist, open mail and see if there were any disasters looming, get to the bank for a deposit, go to the tax office and the mairie (carte de sejour renewal time) pick up the mower and make the first attempts to hack through the jungle.

Mail: does anyone else have this dread and foreboding when opening the mail? I don't really get a lot of mail other than my beloved New Yorker subscription. So three month's worth formed a surprisingly small pile. Even so, after a year of financial headaches that have now just about been sorted, I am always a little fearful of what small seemingly innocuous envelopes can contain. BUT .... nothing unexpected!! hip hip!

Bank: ok, here's a shock! banks in France suck too. I bank with BNP and they are utterly useless. at least the branch in Thiviérs. which of itself is a pain since Thiviérs is nearly 30 kilometers away. fortunately they are open on Saturday mornings, so off we went ... still night-driving and jet lagged. When I arrive and announce I am making a deposit in dollars, the woman immediately responds "ah non, c'est pas possible". "Oui, c'est possible, Monsieur whatsisname told me it was". Of course he wasn't there but his aide, Valerie was. Great! because I had a bone to pick with her too. Before leaving for the U.S., we were going back and forth over some usurious charges, and she provided me her email contact. Three months later and two or three emails, Nothing. So I asked her why. This is the one slightly helpful person there. She tells me the answer concerning a refund of said fees was no. To which I reply then why didn't you email me such? "Well the answer was no ... trails off".
Yes folks you heard it here. I am complaining. about a French person. but really I am complaining about banks.

I've done my research and I am taking my business to Credit Mutuelle this summer. Yes they are also nearly 30 kilometers away. But the other direction, in Perigueux, where I often visit. And from what I can glean they are like credit unions in america. If any of you have any experience with them, please share!

Tax office: yes, yes, you always hear complaints about french fonctionnaires in every branch of government. they are the butt of endless expatriate jokes and complaints. all I can tell you is that in nearly EVERY single instance, these folks have been nothing but thorough and helpful in all of my various transactions. maybe I am lucky, maybe I am more prepared because I try to think like a French person before during and after. I don't know. But before I left, I had sent a letter in disavowing my need to pay an income tax bill because of a recent ruling related to my filing status. I had helpful info from the site Start A Business In France and so followed the advice there. In my pile of mail were two letters, one marked urgent, from the fonctionnaire dedicated to serving Brantôme. We arrived and once introduced, she immediately told me in rapid fire French that she would have called but had no number, that she had been trying to reach me because she had no proof of status and the online file disagreed with my claim. Henry nudged me towards guarding my patience and civillity. I, thinking like a french person, had arrived with a dossier of all of my documents including the attestation of my status. "Bon, c'est parfait", she tells me this is exactly what she needed. After a few copies and entries onling, voila ... no tax is required. I provide her my phone number for any future needs, she likewise gives me hers. Finishing like a french person, I provide a multitude of thank yous and commendations, politesse, and it is done.

Carte de sejour: I gird my loins and head to the mairie with my dossier prepared in advance. After a few misfires obtaining photographs sans voiture ( another post entirely ), I arrive with my papers and the new form, which is not overly complicated but does demand more info than before. This year I am asking for a 10 year carte. Since I plan to apply for french citizenship in another year or so, I am not really sure how the two requests will synchronize (any readers with thoughts, experiences, opinions, please divulge) but I am doing it all the same. The local bureau at the mairie is likewise extremely accomodating and polite. I am not overly optimistic for this year's request since I am past the 2 month deadline and probably will receive the 1 year only. I paid the timbres for one year and if by some miracle it turns out differently, I will pay the balance. Now, I wait. I hate this period of waiting where, even though you can't think of reason, the possibility of trouble looms.

Mower: the automatic transmission on my mower went on the blink last year, and so we delivered it to the local shop before leaving. Cutting 3 foot high grass with no automatic is not a pleasant option. When we went to retrieve it, we were told the transmission was mort. dead. kaput. MERDE!! I don't have the resources to buy a comparable mower at the moment (several hundred euros). We look on le bon coin (equivalent to craigslist here in france) but find no deals. Thinking I have no option but to push, we get her going. MIRACLE OF MIRACLES!!! the automatic functions!!! thanks to the gardening gods, I am back in operation!! yes. I love my life in France. heh heh.

Okay. that covers just the first week's list of wants and needs. I got a hell of a lot more miracles completed ... that will be shared later.

But now I want to get back to my latest New Yorker inspiration!!! lol, deal with it as I think this trend may continue...inspired by new yorker quotes, i believe i can mine a treasure trove of foolishness ... days and days and weeks ... who knows? ha, seriously I take my inspiration where I can find it, wheter the humdrum every day encounters or reading pithy coverage by cosmopolitan authors living glamorous lives ... and of course, everyone is entitled to my opinions ... so ....

There is an article covering a ... gasp ... BLOGGER! in said same issue! a female blogger, a diarist!, who I am loathe to confess I have never heard of despite the fact that she apparently receives 23.3 million page views and 4.4 million unique visitors ... which, according to the New Yorker is about the same amount as read the Daily Beast!! No, she is not Dooce ... she is the Pioneer Woman ... some midwestern chick who lives in Oklahoma and writes her fairy tale dream come true after marrying her "Marlboro Man" and moving to the ranchlands....whaaaat??? not only does she have this astounding blog that won the Best Kept Secret Award at the 2007 Bloggies (her first year) but she has gone on to win numerous other blog awards as well as publish a book of recipes that debuted No. 1 on the NYT best seller list AND her book Black Heels to Tractor Wheels (cough), No. 2 on this year's NYT best seller list. I repeat. Whaaaat??as if all of that wasn't enough, now she is featured in a New Yorker article. le sigh.

Okay. some point soon I am going to go look at her site. I swear. once I turn a lighter shade of green and steel myself for the stories of the modern day cleavers home on the range, home cooking, home schooling, home making and giggling straight from home all the way to the bank. to the tune of about a cool mil per year, gross.

LE SIGH.

on a side note, she is now so totally famous that she has hordes of haters. hatin' on her via websites. and blogs. and twitter. let me remind me of that cool mil. I am certain she is devastated. heh heh.

BUT. in the midst of all this charm and glory, I discovered a very respectable, even somewhat inspiring quote. that got me going a bit.

" ... you should never assume that where you are in life or what you're doing is going to remain exactly as it is forever". (the Pioneer Woman). ((I cannot believe I just quoted someone called The Pioneer Woman. egads.))

regardless of the source, that's a pretty meaty idea. when that lightbulb came on in my head that things COULD change, wow. what a pivotal moment. For the longest time, I had difficulty envisioning what my life could be. I remember talking with a friend about the amount of money I had in reserve and how many years I could last on it. And THEN what? He looked at me and said Kim you make it sound like you can never make money again. like that job, that life, was the only option, it was unchangeable.

when I came here, I truly had no idea what the hell I was doing. or going to do. For the first time in my life, I was taking a leap into the great hereafter without a plan or a clue. ok sure, I had some ducats and a property. but for the person I was, it felt very crazy. there wasn't much in life I did without a plan.

I have said all this before, I know. but still I have readers who ask....in fact, my recent post on self-relevance was commented on by someone trying to figure out how to make a big change and probably sitting there somewhat in the same place I was. I never in a million years envisioned I would be mounting some of the projects I have since been doing.

When you are there striving for relevance, you tend to go with what you know. It isn't easy to imagine how different things can be, how simple it can be to get there ... depending on what you are willing to let go of in return. and that doesn't necessarily mean material things. it can mean your idea of yourself. of your life now and where it could go. it might mean being willing to jump without knowledge of a net. or a parachute.

many times it is only then that we can truly fly.