Changing horses in midstream

Is that an expression? I can't decide if it is or not.

This chap is changing horses in mid match. Most players do that now in order not to tire their mounts. The horses, when they get tired, lose their brakes. It's no fun to play polo on a horse that won't stop. (See traffic jam below.) So fresh horses are a must. Sort of like ideas. Fresh ideas are more interesting than stale, old ideas. I have to admit, I'm a nick-picky reader. If the plot is stale and old, if the characters are recycled, then I'll more than likely skip pages and even change books altogether.

It's the same, alas, with writing a book. Changing books in midstream is not unheard of. Sometimes the book just doesn't take off. Like a tired polo pony, it loses it's ability to sparkle. Then, the only thing to do it change books and hope the sparkle returns. This pony rested and was played again in the last chukker - so sometimes putting a 'WIP' away until it gets fresh again is the best thing to do.

No use flogging a dead horse. :-)

unfuckingbelievable

This should be required reading:

URL: http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/story/16076312/the_great_iraq_swindle

Read it and Weep. (Especially if you're a US taxpayer like myself. ) I cannot believe I paid taxes - over 15% of what I earned - to support this. It's unfuckingbelievable. If there is any justice at all, the Bushies will all be cockroaches in their next lives.

President Bush (center) surrounded by members of his family (top left) and key members of his government (right top and center) and ex-government (right bottom.)

Crash!

Have you ever felt like everything was happening at once?
Like you can't slow down, or turn around, or turn around, or get past the guy in front of you?
Have you ever felt like the ball was just out of reach?

OK, I have to admit, I think this is the most hilarious polo shot I've ever taken. It was serendipity - the play slowed down, but no one told the guys in the back, and everyone telescoped together. My favorite is the horse in the middle with just his head sticking out.

I also feel like I'm in just such a traffic jam right now. I have deadlines galore, most self-imposed, but those are the most important ones. And a book to write, and another simmering in my head, and there is Calderwood Books about to launch in September (more closer to lift-off) and I have a new book coming out with Loose Id, that is a Terrific Book - and totally original. And fun. And I have to start promoting it. What am I thinking of?
Well, to tell the truth, today I was thinking about mowing the lawn, scraping the garden chairs, and so I did.
Na!
:-)

Toréador, en garde!

I just read in the newspaper that Spanish national TV won't be showing bull fighting during the daytime anymore because they don't want children subjected to violence.
I can only agree the idea that bull fighting is a cruel and violent sport. But to say that taking it off TV will ensure children don't see violence astounds me. There is enough violence in cartoons to make me shudder. Bullfighting is nothing compared to a Mel Gibson movie.
While in Spain we saw several bull fights on TV. In one, the bull was pardoned - in other words, he was saved by the matador because the matador thought he fought so well he should live. So the bull was taken away, washed off, and taken back to his farm where he will become a breeding bull. Lucky for him. Most of the others end up as steaks. Bull fighting has existed as a sport since ancient times. In Crete the boys did gymnastics on their backs, in Greece they fought each other, in the Middle Ages they were pitted against dogs and bears. In Roman times gladiators fought them. Bulls are a symbol of strength. And the matador doesn't always win.




Toréador, en garde!Toréador! Toréador!

Et songe bien, oui, songe en combattant qu'un oeil noir te regarde

et que l'amour t'attend,

Toréador, l'amour, l'amour t'attend!

(Carmen, Act II)

The Night Zoo

The Night Zoo

There are only two zoos in the world that are open at night. One is in Singapor, the other is the Fuengirola zoo in Spain.

If you visit the link, be sure to look at the virtual visit - click on the map, you can look 180° around the area, and click on the camera icons for information about the animals in the zoo.

The Fuengirola zoo is another zoo without cages. The animals live in large, grassy areas with plenty of trees and water about. The settings are beautiful - actually, the whole zoo is gorgeous, and no detail is spared for animal or visitor. I was impressed at how clean the zoo was, and how healthy the animals appeared. Another first for a zoo - several different species live together in the same area, and we saw monkeys playing with a large hornbill, an otter playing with a water buffalo calf, and the cutest little baby orangutang in the world!

But what's magical is at night - when the sun sets, the zoo changes. The monkeys all curl up in trees to sleep - but the leopard and tiger wake up and start to roam. The deer and the alligators are on the move, and the creatures who were dozing are suddenly playing. The zoo has a show at night as well - called 'The Forest Clearing', it features trained owls and other creatures of the night. Then there was a musical presentation from an African group of musicians and dancers, with all the children invited to dance on the stage.

My pictures don't do justice to the zoo - here is one of one of the animal settings. My night photos didn't come out, because I didn't want to use a flash. My daughter shot this picture of a parrot and wanted me to include it in the blog!

If you're ever in this corner of the world, don't hesitate to go visit this tiny but beautiful zoo. It's right in the middle of the city, but once you step inside, you feel as if you're in a tropical jungle. And you must stay for the night - it's open until 1 a.m. during the summer months.

Queen Victoria's Railroad in Spain

Queen Victoria made a lot of railroads - and one of the most picturesque is in Spain. What happened was this: Queen Victoria wanted to see Ronda, but the roads were not safe (banditos and such) So she sent engineers and commissioned a railway to be built from Gibralter to Ronda. It's still in use today, and what is charming (besides the conductors in their red hats) are the stations - all Victorian style with the added touch of Spanish cafés and flowers.
We took the train from Gaucin and went up the mountains to a small town ( Benaoján) where we got out, had lunch, and took a walk. A lovely day!
The train tickets cost 2 euros for a two-way trip. The coach was modern and comfortable. The Gaucin train station is in the valley, and the drive down from Gaucin is spectacular. (Check your brakes before you start down the winding road...)


The views from the train were beautiful - tall mountains, steep gorges, cliffs, plains, and groves of cork oak and olive trees.

The stations are all painted white and ochre - the yellow ochre is famous and is called 'Ronda Yellow'. There is usually a small café tagged on to the station, where you can get a cold drink and relax in the shade.

Links:

http://www.andalucia.com/province/malaga/benaojan/home.htm

http://www.andalucia.com/province/malaga/home.htm

http://www.andalucia.com/gaucin/home.htm

Viva Espagna!

I probably spelled that wrong, lol.

Anyhow, I'm back!

The weather in Spain was lovely - hot and dry. Well, it always is in the south of Spain. From where we were, we could see Gibralter rising up in a sharp angle and just beyond it was the Africa with the Atlas mountains blue in the haze.

Here is a view coming down the hill toward the polo fields, with Gibralter in the background, and further on, the mountains of Africa.

To get to the polo fields, we had to cross a river, and the bridge was an interesting three-arched bridge designed by Gustave Eiffel - the same man who designed the Eiffel Tower in France.

And here is the Port of Duquesa, where we stayed. You can see the marina on the left and on the right, the beach. We had a good time not doing very much. I read a lot of books, I took a lot of walks on the beach, and we went to visit a friend in the mountains and went to see a very interesting zoo. I'll do a post about both those!

Spain is a wonderful country. Where we were on the coast it's very touristy, as you can imagine. There are lots of huge construction projects going on, and the coast, which used to be mostly fishing villages and farms, is being transformed into a paradise for golfers, retired folk, and English people. There were more English people in the village of Duquesa than Spanish. Almost all the shops were run by English ex-pats, who had moved from their country in search of sun and reasonable property prices. I was amazed by the change. I've been coming to the south of Spain for 26 years now, and it's day and night. Before, you had to look hard to find a restaurant - now they are all over, and there are Chinese, Indian, and Argentine restaurants as well as traditional Catalonian restaurants. (I do NOT recommend eating at a Chinese restaurant in Spain...) And there are souvenir shops everywhere, most souvenirs being made in China, alas. We went to the mountains to find a pottery shop, and we bought some fans. They are now in fashion - everywhere we went, pretty ladies had their fans!

Here is a pretty girl with a fan. We were at the Gaucin train station, getting ready to take a train to the mountains. It was a hot day, and women had their fans out. Most match their fans to their outfits. I saw many at the polo games with ropas (dresses) and abanitas (fans) that matched. It was quite chic. A nice fan made of light balsa wood and cotton, and hand painted, costs about 5 dollars. The more fancy ones were more expensive!

Another typical Spanish item is olive oil, but I didn't get any this trip -it's expensive when it's good quality. And there is also the Iberian smoked ham, which we eat with sliced melon.

Well, more about my Spanish trip tomorrow, with the story about Queen Victoria's train, and the trip to Gaucin and the mountains.

Adios!

Spain

I'm in Spain!
We're way down south, in a place called Puerto Duqueso. It's hot, dry, and dusty - and we're mostly hanging out and playing mah-jongg (my daughter insisted on bringing the set with us).
My husband is working, so we're living by his schedule. He works from 5 pm to about 10 pm - and in the morningm before noon, we go to the beach, and after he gets off work we go out for dinner and hang out at the docks. Puerto Duquesa is a big marina.
It's hot - so we mostly stay indoors actually.
We went to the mountain village of Gaucine to visit a friend, Karen, and that was lovely. The drive was hair-raising - all curves and mountains - but the view once there was breathtaking. We had a dinner of tapas outside, overlooking the gorge.
Tonight we're going to the zoo - it's open until 1 am - it's the Fueringola zoo, and we're looking forward to seeing the nocturnal animal exhibit.
I'll be back in France the 22 of Aug. and I'll post pictures!

Sam

Mah Jongg

Mah Jong every which way

family style

My daughter's stylish set

Porch style

Outdoor style

We've been playing all summer. I love the game, and my daughter is completely hooked.

You usually play with 4 people, but you can play with 3 or even 2. (Or 5 if you switch like in bridge). There are several ways to play it. The Chinese play it very much like gin rummy. The English have a whiole book of 'special hands', and my aunt, who taught us, learned the English way while she was living in China, lol.

The real difference is in the various 'hands'. They all have cool names, like 'Gerties Garters', and 'Heavenly Twins', or 'The Ruby hand', or 'Dragon's Breath'. There are three suits, (bams, cracks, and dots) and three dragons (red, white, and green) and the four winds (north, south, east, and west.)

The set-up is easy, once you get the hang of it. And playing is fun and for all ages.

We wanted to get a set, but they are hard to find. So this summer, I promised my daughter we'd take a trip to Chinatown in NYC and see if we could find one. We went down the last day of our visit, and stopped to see Sam, who offered to take us to Chinatown for lunch and help hunt down a set - so off we went. We had lunch in a Fabulous restaurant, I will definitely recommend it to anyone who loves Chinese food - it's called Shanghai Cuisine, and it's located at 89-91 Bayard street downtown Manhatten. (corner of Mulberry and Bayard). Everything we had was delicious - I can't say enough good things about that place.

Anyhow, after lunch we headed east, and hit a small street with some tiny shops, and Sam spotted a mahjongg set in the window! We went in, and the shop owner took down a box, opened it, and took out a huge wooden box with a dragon on it. She opened it, and my daughter gasped in delight. A lovely mah jongg set. My daughter asked the price, and her face crumpled It was expensive. I was just starting to tell the lady that we couldn't afford it, when Sam said, "Wrap it up! It's for her birthday!" My daughter was jumping with joy, and all I could think of was 'we are going to have to carry this 30 pound mah jongg set with us on the plane'. Actually, I was thrilled, and am planning on sending a care package to Sam, with some chocolate and some 'get skinny' tea - LOL!

My son managed to cram the box into our luggage, so all we had to do was wheel it around the airport. And now, every night, we play a few hands of mah jongg.

Last night I won with a hand called 5 odd honors.

:-)

Thank you Sam!!!!!

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday to me!

I'm 47 today - (I'll only admit to 35) and I mowed the lawn and lifted the old lady next door.

?

Yes, for the past few days I've been helping the nurse who takes care of the 104 yr old woman next door, because the nurse sprained her arm and can't lift her anymore. So I've been helping out. It's been an interesting experience. The woman in question (104 - that makes her 57 years older than I am) is deaf and cranky, and has slight dementia. Otherwise, she's in fine form. She can't walk, but she can complain - which according to the nurse, she does constantly. Today she complained I set her down too fast (I actually nearly rolled over with her onto the bed. She's heavy!) But she's strong, and she can usually hoist herself into her wheelchair, just not back into bed.

My son, who is a fireman, said that most of his missions are picking up elderly folk who have fallen down and can't get up. He told me to call him if the old woman got stuck. So far the nurse has managed on her own, until she sprained her arm.

The old woman saw me the first day and said, "Who's that?"

"La voisine!" (the neighbor) shouted the nurse. (she has to shout, as the old lady is deaf as my dachshund when he's decided he wants to stay in bed.)

"Justine?"

"No, la voisine!"

"Oh. Bonjour Justine."

"No, pas Justine. Ta voisine! She's here to help!"

The old lady calls me Justine now, and complains that I don't lift her high enough to get her situated right in bed.

According to the nurse, she's being difficult because she refuses to let the nurse lift her with this handy contraption that would make life considerably easier for everyone. But the old lady refuses, and so the poor nurse has to come knocking at my door every morning and evening to get the old woman set up right.

Next week a new nurse is coming, and I'm leaving on vacation, but my son said he'd be standing by in case she needs lifting, so don't anyone worry.

:-)

Vacation!

Vacation!

I love summer vacation. I love not having a schedule. I dont have to worry about forgetting appointments, getting days mixed up (they're all the same during summer!) and setting the alarm wrong. I feel free. I just took my daughter to the dentist today for her monthly checkup for her braces, and the dentist remarked at how relaxed and happy I looked. Thinking about schedules must put lines on my face. Oh well. I still have a month left. So what am I up to? I'm headed to the south of Spain, where I will try to catch up on my reading.
Books I've read so far this summer:
The Coal Black Horse (fabulous)
Killer Angels (even more fabulous)
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows (made my plane trip home so much more fun)
And a couple of decent books by good authors, but I've forgotten the titles, sorry.
Some photos of this summer:

At the military cemetery in Saratoga, where my father is buried.

Here is my daughter fishing at the lake at my uncle's camp.

This is a photo taken at the cemetery at Gettysburg.

Me holding my niece, and my mom, in her new house. We have to strip the wallpaper and paint this room, but the woodwork is done.

New York

I just got back from the lake. A lovely vacation with no computers, TV, e-mail, or any loud noises except the truck that started up every morning at 6 am when the neighbor went to work. And that was fine because at five we were up, drinking gourmet coffee, and sitting on the porch (or sitting in the canoe) admiring the silvery lake.
My sister and her husband own a restaurant and they came laden with food - and so we had wonderful dinners every night. My cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents all came to see us, and we fished, played mah jongg, and walked around the lake. And that was it. And it was heaven.
Now I have sporadic internet use - I'm at my mom's house for a week. Next Monday I'm going to Pennsylvania for a few days. I've never visited Gettysburg, and that's where we're headed for some historical events. My daughter and I are watching the TV series 'Gettysburg' that we rented from the library in anticipation of our trip. We're going with my school chum Debbie, whom I haven't seen in over 15 years!! I hope she recognises me.
;-)
I haven't had time to work, and I'm falling woefully behind. But I do have two new books out - Hotline - over at total-e-bound books, and My Fair Pixie is now in print in an anthology called Lady Jaided's Virile Vampires.
If I had more time I'd add links and such, but I'm headed out the door to help my mom with her new house. We just got the dry wall up, it's alnost all taped, and we'll start priming soon.
Got to run!
I'll write more later!

More about e-books & stuffed animals

I have discovered something terrific with Adobe Reader! They have a wonderful full screen option. But it's hard to find. When you open the pdf file, look at the very bottom left hand corner. (Yes - LEFT - I made sure, lol.) Bottom. Small icon, looks like a TV screen. When you hover over it, it says 'Full Screen View'. Click on it, and the result is a GREAT page for reading e-books, similar to the microsoft reader page.
I'm amazed. I never noticed that before. That'll teach me to read directions.

I am packed. My suitcase, though small and complete with wheels, weighs a ton because of all the French soaps I'm bringing back with me. French soaps are really nice. But they're heavy.

My daughter's suitcase (a school bookbag with wheels) is packed too. She is bringing her stuffed bunny with her. The bunny has been travelling back and forth with her since she was six. My son Sebi has a small stuffed seal called Lightning. He still has it, (he's 21 and he got the seal when he was 3). He's carried the seal back and forth from France to the US, to Argentina, and England. Lightning was once forgotten in the stables, and a big white horse named Ajax 'took care of him'. (My son had left him in the horse's stall during a game of hide and seek when the grooms had taken all the horses out to exercise.) Sebi was always attached to his stuffed animals. He had a stuffed rabbit named 'Apple' and a sort of yellow monkey named 'Saucisson'. Apple, Lightning, and Saucisson went everywhere with us for years and years. And my son still has, like I said, Lightning the small seal. (And like the old rocking horse in the Velveteen Rabbit, his eyes are gone, his nose has been rubbed off, and his fur has gone bald in spots - but he's still perched next to my son's bed.)
My daughter's bunny 'Jumper' is rag-worn, shapeless, and his ears have been sewn back on twice. But she loves him. She loves him better than the plush, new stuffed animals she got for Christmas or her birthday last year. Like Sebi, who pushed away a brand new rabbit with howls of "I want my Old Bunny Back!" when Apple was lost, my daughter prefers her careworn creature.
She looks at Jumper through eyes of love.

Packing

I'm finally packing for NY. Well, actually, I already finished. I pack in about three minutes. Then I leave the suitcase at the foot of the stairs and add things to it as I remember them. My daughter still hasn't packed, but she's said to me at least a hundred times, 'I wish I was in NY already!'. She's tired of school. In France, we have the longest school day of all European countries, and yet we're not the top performer - Finland is with the shortest day of all European schools, but they have a higher teachers per student ratio, and they offer lots of after school tutoring. My daughter loved the Finnish school system (she went there on a class trip). I wish they would shorten the school day here, but although our new president has said he wants to reform the education system, there haven't been any concrete propositions.
I haven't been blogging much - sorry. Busy with the garden (summer means lots of work outside - I love it!) And my son is on vacation from the university, so that means he's often on the computer during the day. I've been busy with Calderwood Books (and again, loving it. I enjoy reading the query letters and delving into the slush pile. I'm still excited about finding new books. I am waiting for one author to send in his contract, but he's hesitating because he's not sure he really wants to publish an e-book (he's holding out for a bigger publisher). In one way I'm disappointed. I fished his book out of the slush pile and loved it. But I understand an author's reticence. E-books don't have the best reputation of making tons of money for an author. And as much as I try to say that regular books don't do much better, it's true that even a small advance is often more than an e-book ever earns out over its lifetime.
I keep hoping that there will come an inexpensive and perfomant e-book reader. I think that books DO pollute. The industry is terribly wasteful. (But most industies are, come to think of it.) E-books are a good economic and ecological choice, but it's hard reading on a computer, even a laptop, and not many people have e-book readers yet.
I keep hoping...
And hoping.
A good, cheap e-book reader.
No bells and whistles.
Just a paperback size.
Thin, with good lighting.
Able to read several file formats.
Rechargeable battery with a long charge.
And then e-books will finally catch on. Imagine, you can carry a whole library in your pocket!
OK - time for lunch.

Dyslexia

I was writing some letters to find review sites for Calderwood Books. I have to run them through the spell checker because I'm a terrible speller. When I concentrate, I can usually spell most words right. Some I can never get right, so I avoid them. Mideival is one. I write it at least three ways before giving up and putting in Middle Ages. I have LOTS of words on my 'can never spell' list. And yet, I look the word up. I will spell it right by accident, then delete it because it doesn't look right. But I can't remember it.
I also can't tell my left from my right. I'm clumsy, bang into things a lot, and although I speak French, I'll never learn to write it. I'm dyslexic. It runs in the family. My mother can't tell her left from her right, and my daughter is so dylexic she didn't learn to read until she was 7, and she had to go to an orthophonist to learn to 'see' the difference between a d and a b. It was slow going. At first, she was at the bottom of her class. The school had a special teacher come in twice a week to work with her for almost two years, and her teachers only gave her half the amount of homework the other kids got. And yet, no one ever scolded her or told her she was 'slow'. We explained to her what dyslexia was, and told her she had to learn to live with it. She did, and now she's third in her class and has excellent grades. She's doing so well, we're thinking of putting her in a more challenging school. She wants to be a veterinarian. We're very proud of her. She worked hard and it paid off. She never got discouraged, and her teachers were all great and encouraged her to do her best.
My dyslexia never kept me from reading, although it does hamper my spelling, and if I meet a new word it takes me a while to get used to it. The best thing to happen to me as a kid was to be crazy about dinosaurs. Sounding out and then memorizing their long names helped tame my fear of multi-syllable words. I was never very good at sports - for some reason I can never catch a ball. I'm not great in math. I turn left when someone says 'go right!' and it took me years to catch the notion of 'early' VS 'late'. Time really does have no meaning for me. My most important helpers are my watch, my calendar, and my weekly planner. I use color-coded stickers, and yet I'm always forgetting what day it is, and when my friends invite me for lunch, they know they have to call me in the morning to make sure I don't forget. I didn't forget, I just don't know what day it is!
Weekends are the only times I feel like I can relax. There's no school, no schedule, no lessons, no lunches. And yet, I love having a full schedule. The more I do, the more energy I have. But sometimes I wish I could be organized. I wish I could put everything in neat piles, fold clothes (I can't fold clothes) and just organize my house. I know where everything is, but it looks like a rat's nest. But I am incapable of organizing my space. Dyslexia, for me, means having no concept of left-right, up-down, straight or crooked. I have three calendars on my desk, a yearly, a weekly, and a monthly. And I still get things wrong. Last week I arrived at the dentist a day early. (At least it wasn't a day late!)
Anyway, For those without dyslexia, it must be frustrating to deal with us sometimes. My husband mostly laughs it off, but he can't understand how I can get lost going somewhere I've been at least thirty times before. My sons can't understand how I can always be late picking them up from school. We don't do it on purpose. I look at my watch and see 'quarter to' instead of 'quarter past'.
Which reminds me - time to go to the pony club picnic! I'm riding today and my daughter is already mortified, just sure I'll fall off and humiliate her. I will be sure to get pictures if I do!
;-)

my rugby man calendar

When I went to play golf the other day, my daughter and her friends examined my rugby man calendar with much interest. I know because they hung it back up with Mr. September in view, instead of Mr. June. I suppose it might shock some people to see my 'nekkid guys' hanging on the wall but I've never thought of nudity as something shameful. In fact, I love the human body, even when it's not perfect. (But the rugby men are pretty near perfect, lol.)

Authors, pay attention!

Authors, pay attention.

I have been reading the slush pile again, and here are the problems I found. One book had too many heroes. The story was well written. I was hooked right away by a lovely description and some interesting action. And then the story went awry. Every character was a hero. The family - father, mother, and baby were all equally important. The neighbor's family - father, mother, and baby were important! And the secondary characters kept taking over the action.
If you have several heroes (thinking of Lord of the Rings here) then you need a strong, simple framework to carry them. The story has to be simple. "Take Ring To Volcano". What is simpler than that? Then you can have several different heroes. But be careful - don't overwhelm the reader. Each hero has his chapter. Each chapter has its structure. In the book I just pulled from the slushpile, the plot is complicated, the characters many, and I cannot get attached to any of them. I'm Overwhelmed.
I pulled a second book out of the slush pile. I read three chapters. Not once did I get into any of the character's heads. It was written in what I call third person omniscient. It's a good way to start a novel because you can introduce the setting and characters quickly. But it puts a certain distance between the reader and the characters because you're never deeply in their heads. So I read on, hoping that the second chapter would give me a clue as to who the hero was, and on to the third chapter, where the tone stayed the same. Good, clear writing. No connection at all with the characters. I needed a hero I could connect with, and I got comments on the weather.
POV is terribly important. Head-hopping is not bad if it does not confuse the reader, but it's a rare author who can pull it off. When I read the slush pile, I'm aware that most of the authors are just starting out. That's why we try to make our rejection letters as constructive as possible. We also invite the autors to resubmit if we like their writing and think they can fix the problems. Sometimes they are OK with our suggestions, and sometimes not. It's up to them. But I've never subbed a book anywhere without knowing that it will have to be edited. And my goal is to make the editor's job as easy as possible, and authors should keep this in the back of their minds. Their books WILL need editing. If the book needs too much, we can't afford it. Time is money, as they say, and if the book takes too long to edit, it's not worth it. So pay particular atention to POV. And count your heroes. (And heroines.)

Been Busy

Good news! My son passed his exams and he's admitted to the second year in his university. In France the universities are free, which means there are a lot of students in the first year. You have to pass tough exams to go on to the second year, and only 30% are admitted directly, so we're proud of him!

You know how it is. The calendar starts filling up, the days becoming crammed with appointments and 'things to do'. I'm leaving for the US on the 22nd, and suddenly there is a ton of stuff I have to take care of before I go. And then my husband got his job in Spain, so we'll be there for the whole month of August, and that means more frantic organising as I realize I'll probably be without internet for that whole time. (*gasp!*)

I threw a birthday party for my husband Wednesday and we had a great time. A golf tournament followed by dinner. The weather was wonderful, and we all had a great time.

My car, however, is falling apart bit by bit. It doesn't start well, the window is broken (it fell over when I lowered it the other day, and I had to prop it back up and close it to keep it from falling out again. Now I have to be careful not to open it. It's aslo making strange noises. I'm glad my husband got the job in Spain - it's paid well and hopefully we'll be able to get another car when we get back in September. Argh. As my son once said, 'Why does everything have to cost so much?' He was four at the time and was trying to buy an expensive stuffed hedgehog with only fifty pence - but I know exactly what he was feeling.

Happy French Mother's Day!

I had a lovely day. I spent it with good friends, in the sunshine, with lots of wine and song...Well, not any songs, actually, the group was not very musical, but it was a lot of fun.

When I got home, I found my son had made a batch of chocolate chip cookies!!!

(Happy Mother's Day?)

I ate two.

Yesterday there was a small tournament nearby. There were knights in shining armor, flags, a tavern (a tent, but it was quaint.) And there were people in costume but I didn't get a photo because my batteries wore out. Argh. I wanted a picture of the little boy in the musketeer outfit, complete with plumed hat and cape! It was very hot, so we didn't stay long. But isn't the barn fascinating?

Ye olde barn with ye strangely shaped round roof. (Probably an old pigeon coop)

Ye Olde Taverne (Perrier & Mead)

Applauding the winners

City life, country life

I used to live in the city. I was in NYC before I moved to Paris. In my apartment building, most people knew each other and said hello if they passed each other in the halls or in the elevator, but that was it. In Paris, we hardly spoke at all. I lived in my Paris apartment for three years and never saw my neighbors. In Lyon, it was a much more friendly. We had dinners with our neighbors, our kids walked to school together, and the mothers left the strollers in the nook next to the elevator. The apartment in Lyon was a big complex, with a pool, a park, and a wonderful view over the valley. Unfortunately, my husband couln't find work nearby, so we moved back to the Paris region.
We found a small house in a tiny village. I was used to city life, so I didn't rush out and knock on my neighbor's doors to introduce myself. My daughter, age 5, had no such qualms, and knocked on Everyone's door, so soon everyone knew us. I was used to a friendly nod as I passed a neighbor. Here, you stop and chat about the weather. I was also used to not knowing anyone, and not really paying attention to the poeple around me. What was considered polite in the big city was considered rude and stand-offish here. I had to learn to 'chat'. It was not easy.
Some of the people in this village have been here for generations. Their grandparents and great-great-ever-so-great grandparents lived here. Some just arrived, like us. The locals are friendly, but seem to have a rivalry between themselves. There is a veritable war going on between the two egg farmers, for example, and between the people on the hillside and the people on the valley side there is a sort of constant snipping. It's a war that has been going on for ages, I suppose. The village is divided into clans. The village fête commitee, for example, imploded because of the clan war, and they had to elect a whole new village fête commitee.
It may sound trite, but the people who live here and whose families have lived here for centuries, remind me of goldfish in a bowl sometimes. They peer out at the world, but to them, this village is their world.
For someone who has moved from one hemisphere to the next throughout her life, it's very strange. I can't imagine being so rooted to one place.
Recently the war escalated into a nasty graffiti written on the walls of a new house. The house was new - the family in it was one of the village's own. But the house was built on a spot of land that for a long time had been declared non constructable, the law (somehow) changed, and the house was built, which angered more than one person, obviously. Someone wrote a nasty slogan on the wall. The mayor issued a bulletin. People clucked and shook their heads. But for me it's obvious that the war is simply continuing along age-old lines. The hill people against the valley people, jealousy sprouting from a building permit and a covetted peice of property.
Does it make me wish I was back in the city?
No. Not at all. The villagers have drawn their lines of battle, but I'm not a villager. And most of them are caring, wonderful people. Graffiti is cruel, and the words were mean, but not harmful. And I'm pretty sure things will be smoothed out. Perhaps another building permit on another peice of land. We'll see. Life in a small village is never boring, despite what you may think.
I just have to be careful to buy my eggs from both farmers.