Since I’ve been away I’ve been chatting with the boys on Skype, which makes it much easier to handle the long separation. If you’re not familiar with this technology, basically we chat through the computer, and can see each other, so it’s like a video phone. Leo is very patient with the process and usually ends up with at least one squirmy boy on his lap and the other one leaping around him, both showing off for me on the computer. They get a little excited, which I think is probably a little tiring for Leo.
They also like to push, rather enthusiastically, the buttons on the computer. Which generally breaks the connection. So Leo has to keep them from doing that. Today, he sounded a little exasperated as he gently asked them not to push the buttons. I told Jamie I had a deal for him. If he could resist pushing the buttons on daddy’s computer, when I got back to Houston, I would set up a computer for him to use (I remembered that I have an old laptop I don’t use anymore). He looked pretty interested. He was sitting very still, a rarity, and paying close attention. “A toy computer?” he asked. “No, a real computer.” I said. “I’ll resist,” he whispered, reverentially.
jeudi 5 juin 2008
bakeries
It's been a few days since I posted anything, because really nothing much has happened. But I guess this means I'm settling into normal life in rural France. And what occupies people in normal life in rural France, apparently, is the bakery.
It's not unlike the cult of the bakery in Houston, where people swear by their favorite place. But there, you mostly go to the preferred bakery a few times a year when you need a cake. Here, it's a daily business. You've got to get fresh bread at least every two days, and preferably every day, because you need a vehicle for the cheese, and the jam, and the butter, and the honey. And something to soak up those rich creamy sauces. But the bread is more elusive than you might think.
In our little pocket of the Luberon, for example, there is a clear ranking of bakeries. We do have a baker in Menerbes, and she is actually open in the middle of the day, when nobody else is. So I go there and get bread for lunch, or a grown-up version of a pig-in-a-blanket, which is a rather transcendental concoction of pastry surrounding a sausage and mustard. Heaven. BUT, among people who actually have standards for their baked goods, our local baker can't even be mentioned. She doesn't count. Her baguettes, it seems, don't even rank. So the people of Menerbes must drive down the hill and across the valley to one of the other towns for bread. But even that is not so simple... the much-coveted bread of Apt is not available on Monday. The also good, but not so good as Apt, bread of Goult is available on Monday, but not, we discovered, this week because she is "en vacances." Try Lumieres, they said. Down the hill again we went. And so on. The day of the week, the time of day... it's so complex that I feel I need a spreadsheet. And should you wish to combine errands... say, hit the fruitstand on the way to the bakery, well, good luck.
It is all so worth it, though, when lunch means a fresh baguette, a fresh tomato, and some incredibly creamy cheese. Just don't tell anyone I bought the bread in Menerbes.
It's not unlike the cult of the bakery in Houston, where people swear by their favorite place. But there, you mostly go to the preferred bakery a few times a year when you need a cake. Here, it's a daily business. You've got to get fresh bread at least every two days, and preferably every day, because you need a vehicle for the cheese, and the jam, and the butter, and the honey. And something to soak up those rich creamy sauces. But the bread is more elusive than you might think.
In our little pocket of the Luberon, for example, there is a clear ranking of bakeries. We do have a baker in Menerbes, and she is actually open in the middle of the day, when nobody else is. So I go there and get bread for lunch, or a grown-up version of a pig-in-a-blanket, which is a rather transcendental concoction of pastry surrounding a sausage and mustard. Heaven. BUT, among people who actually have standards for their baked goods, our local baker can't even be mentioned. She doesn't count. Her baguettes, it seems, don't even rank. So the people of Menerbes must drive down the hill and across the valley to one of the other towns for bread. But even that is not so simple... the much-coveted bread of Apt is not available on Monday. The also good, but not so good as Apt, bread of Goult is available on Monday, but not, we discovered, this week because she is "en vacances." Try Lumieres, they said. Down the hill again we went. And so on. The day of the week, the time of day... it's so complex that I feel I need a spreadsheet. And should you wish to combine errands... say, hit the fruitstand on the way to the bakery, well, good luck.
It is all so worth it, though, when lunch means a fresh baguette, a fresh tomato, and some incredibly creamy cheese. Just don't tell anyone I bought the bread in Menerbes.
dimanche 1 juin 2008
medieval fortifications
Went on a field trip yesterday, to Arles and Aigues-Mortes. Arles is a Roman & medieval city, best known as Van Gogh's muse for some of his most famous paintings. It's a beautiful city with an incredible Romanesque church and a variety of Roman ruins scattered throughout. From there, we headed out to a marshy nature reserve alongside the Rhone before it empties into the Mediterranean. Out in the middle of this marsh is a city called Aigues-Mortes. It was built by Louis IX as a launching point for his (failed) seventh crusade. The city is
an amazingly well-preserved relic of the Middle Ages, with complete fortification walls and an enormous tower. When you build your walls six meters thick, they tend to last a while. And what do you think Sarah liked best?
Was is the crenellated ramparts?
Circus
A few nights ago I went, along with my two housemates, the program director, and her two kids, to a circus. Together we made up approximately 65% of the total audience. More math: we outnumbered the performers by three. Does this give you some sense of the scale of this circus? Yes, there were three human performers involved, along with a dancing horse and a counting dog. I took pictures to try to capture this indescribable spectacle, but the pictures actually make it look grander than it was.
Brangelina sighting!!
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