We headed to the town of Grignan one sunny day to check out the roses. The drive isn't taxing and there's a lovely tea salon with a garden full of blooms right next to the town's lavoir--a circular pool that was once used for washing--as extra incentive.
Shortly after lunch, we got into our eight-year old Peugeot and headed on our way. I suspect that the rate of calculating the life span of cars is a bit like converting dog years into human ones, and puts our vehicle into something past middle age but not yet doddering. Like us, the car's surface shows some wear and tear and it's been needing a few replacements. The tab was less than the dental replacement that I need but still noticeable. We'd just put on two new tires and felt much safer if a bit poorer as we rolled through the Cotes du Rhone vineyards on our outing. The vines were looking very sprightly, waving their new tendrils straight up in the gently blowing air, in a celebration to spring, youth, rebirth and all the great May growing energy around us.
Once there, we realized that the roses were a bit past their prime too, still lovely but a bit overblown, the way I like to think of myself on a good hair day. A sudden burst of heat must have pushed them along but they made us happy anyway and glad we'd made the effort. From there, we headed for the tea salon, pots of Mariage Freres tea, an apricot rosemary tartlet and serene surroundings. In a wonderful display of life's serendipity, the roses in their small garden were just at peak and we felt doubly rewarded for treating ourselves.
And so,whether springing fresh, at prime or edging towards decline, beauty and life give pleasure to those who seek and see.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Home Improvement
Last week was home improvement week here in Mollans which meant we spent most of our days on a ladder.
After painting the wall we'd had repaired last fall with special, water sealer paint, we moved on to ceilings--covering spots on my bedroom "plafond" and a total overhaul of Hallie's.
This, of course, required paint. Somehow, we managed to justify a trip to Avignon and the requisite gas by deciding paint would be cheaper at one of the big box stores there. And, since we were there, we thought we might as well visit one or two of our favorite clothing and shoe stores, just in case something caught our eye.
Luckily for the pocketbook, we weren't that taken with the apparel collection. It was really a good thing as the cost of paint sent us reeling. We'd planned on doing Hallie's walls too but, at about 45 euros for a 5 liter container (that's about $60.00 for a gallon and a quarter) of pale yellow paint, we decided to just focus on her ceiling for this year.
We also were yearning for our own ladder. Normally, we borrow one but it seemed time to step up (pun intended) and get one of our own. Arriving at the store, we realized we didn't know the word for ladder in French but fell on a nice stepladder that the store was using for stocking the shelves. We asked a passing clerk where they stocked "un de ca" or one of those. She laughed, told us the name in French--escabeau--and told us to follow her. At the ladder section, she left us and we found a lovely, four-step, aluminum stepladder for 42 euros. Ouch. We left it there, richer in vocabulary and cash. One container of ceiling paint later, we headed home.
Calling our friend, Ian, we borrowed his escabeau and settled in to our task. After scraping, patching, washing and taping over several days, we'd completed our prep and slathered on clean, white, transforming magic all from one single tub of paint. Bliss in a bucket.
Interspersed with all our labors, we made sure we were also enjoying ourselves. We went to markets, had a friend over for dinner--chicken, of course--and laughed a lot while dust and drips of paint fell in our hair while working. Not a bad week, all in all.
After painting the wall we'd had repaired last fall with special, water sealer paint, we moved on to ceilings--covering spots on my bedroom "plafond" and a total overhaul of Hallie's.
This, of course, required paint. Somehow, we managed to justify a trip to Avignon and the requisite gas by deciding paint would be cheaper at one of the big box stores there. And, since we were there, we thought we might as well visit one or two of our favorite clothing and shoe stores, just in case something caught our eye.
Luckily for the pocketbook, we weren't that taken with the apparel collection. It was really a good thing as the cost of paint sent us reeling. We'd planned on doing Hallie's walls too but, at about 45 euros for a 5 liter container (that's about $60.00 for a gallon and a quarter) of pale yellow paint, we decided to just focus on her ceiling for this year.
We also were yearning for our own ladder. Normally, we borrow one but it seemed time to step up (pun intended) and get one of our own. Arriving at the store, we realized we didn't know the word for ladder in French but fell on a nice stepladder that the store was using for stocking the shelves. We asked a passing clerk where they stocked "un de ca" or one of those. She laughed, told us the name in French--escabeau--and told us to follow her. At the ladder section, she left us and we found a lovely, four-step, aluminum stepladder for 42 euros. Ouch. We left it there, richer in vocabulary and cash. One container of ceiling paint later, we headed home.
Calling our friend, Ian, we borrowed his escabeau and settled in to our task. After scraping, patching, washing and taping over several days, we'd completed our prep and slathered on clean, white, transforming magic all from one single tub of paint. Bliss in a bucket.
Interspersed with all our labors, we made sure we were also enjoying ourselves. We went to markets, had a friend over for dinner--chicken, of course--and laughed a lot while dust and drips of paint fell in our hair while working. Not a bad week, all in all.
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