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| THis boxwood arch, 15 feet high could have been planted by Louis XlV. It is the beginning of The Big Walk around the bowl. |
May 16, 2015
Yesterday was cold and alternately sunny and rainy, damp but
bracing walking weather. The rain was always rather light coming in waves with
the wind, not like the New England grim, cold and unrelenting nor’easters, and
the sunny bits were warm and bright and sparkling, not to mention welcome. In the
expanse of the bowl around us, the shadows of clouds flowed back and forth
across the landscape bringing the lines
of rain and pushing aside the sunny areas in their passing. In the right light, you could see the gusts of
wind push over the tops of the oats in waves. The whole walkabout was a frolicking
weather stew. Apparently the system is
going to be sitting on us for the week. A good time to read. On the walk I came by a field of oats strewn
with bright poppies that was straight out of Monet. As we have noticed so
often, France looks an awful lot like the Impressionists said it did. The farm where the poppies were is owned by
the Dutch lady who takes her cheeses to the markets. I didn’t see any cows around but when I go to
the market this morning, I’ll look for her. She said she always took cheeses on
trips and had no problem at customs. I might try that. By the way, we never had
our luggage examined anywhere.
From the Saturday market: Saucisson au Roquefort, au fenouil
{lamb?), au canard , paella, olives,
cheeses with lovely brown and olive green rinds cut from big rounds , unusual
looking head lettuce and potatoes for potato salad and the basket to carry it
all in. The cheese man kept giving me little slivers of cheese and I kept
trying to give him money and make a shape with my hands of how much I wanted. He’d
just give me another sliver and I’d like that even better. We were at an
impasse until a gentleman who spoke English helped me buy the last one. Next
time, we can get the one with Fenugreek or fenugeek or whatever. On the way home, I got French Mayonnaise and
it is yummy, much yellower and very lemony. So good. On my walk, I checked out the cherry tree I
used to gather from last trip. Que
Dolour! There were just a few green cherries and they won’t be ripe for a month. But last night I looked out the bathroom
window and there were cherry trees 3 feet away with lots of green cherries and
a few turning red! How did I miss this last time?
Random Notes: The
only hand soap I found is a hunk the shape of a pound of butter that is hard to
hold. But wait! I’ll cut it up. I
can’t get used to bottled milk sitting unrefrigerated on market shelves next to
dish detergent. It’s really convenient and almost as tasty. In Cabannes there is a jolly and colorful
RECYCLE sign with an arrow pointing around the left of the building to the
back. The right side of the building says ANTIQUES in much more muted and
sophisticated tones. I drove around to
the back but all I saw were stacks of wooden pallets. When you enter a town, there is a sign
with its name; when you leave it, there is the same sign with the international
sign of NO! slashed through it. So much
for YOU, town.
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