Un Vignoble

I'm not sure how many people were in attendance on the final night of a three day wine and music festival called 'Le Son du Vignoble',  but it was beyond my expectations, as was the parking.  It was smart that I did not go in my chic dress and heeled sandals  - 'les talons',  as we had to trek across a field that looked as if in wet weather it would be water logged.

It was the 4th year.  I didn't realise that and hadn't understood that one could spend the day there and take a picnic.  I don't remember information telling me how much it would be, so thankfully I took monetary notes! Like many experiences in France I discover BEAUTY.  This was an interesting evening!
A 14e entrance fee provided me with a tampon (= an inky rubber stamp! The difference in language is always amusing!) stamped on my arm, a ticket and an inscribed glass.  This is civilised France and I didn't see any broken glass! Long may it last!  It wouldn't happen in UK!  Far too dangerous!  In the glass was a paper token for the first glass of wine. Thereafter one exchanged euros for jetons (plastic disks) which could be exchanged for wine, juice or food.  Pretty neat idea!  I haven't been to Music Festivals so had no idea how it all works.

I am not sufficiently knowledgeable to comment on the musicians. The Healthy Boy played for the first concert in the garden. It was nice as the sun was shining, children were playing far away under the orchard trees, people sat and listened nicely.  I found the echo system of repeating and overlaying phrases played by a single guitar a bit much for me. I was really impressed when the SOUND man for The Healthy Boy was doing it all on an ipad!
The second concert was by Thomas Fersen who is well known in France and I think hails from Bretagne. That was under a huge hangar. I could not understand the poetic nature of his music.
HOWEVER
I love Ampelidae wines especially Pinot Noir, which is why I went all that distance.  It took me an hour plus to do the journey so didn't get home until the early hours but did buy a case of 6 Pinot Noir to indulge the Summer.
These organic wines are sold in our village shop. It's been a long while since I set forth into that terroir.  I had forgotten how rich it is on many levels. I went to Marigny Brizay for a dégustation in about 2008 when the company were just getting better developed.  The enthusiasm of Kate the proprietor of the Chateau and Frédèric were palpable... such enthusiasm poured from their hearts... we were shown the vignes, the cuves,the cellars and part of the chateau and generally the group we were in were keenly welcomed and indulged.  That was then.

Last night, as I sat by the bar,  I found again that warmth and trust in their mission to create quality organic wines. Then along comes Kate who seemed to remember me and I enjoyed speaking to friends of hers from London, who worked in the technological domain.
I could not avoid listening to a discussion that a french lady had with an expert behind the bar, about the effects of citric and tartaric acids used in white wines causing muscle cramp.  She could not drink white wine because of this.  He suggested Pinot Noir and a massage.. at which point I was included in the conversation by laughter.  Not many moments later she brought her female friend who had not believed her to listen to the expert explain, at which point I was very much more included in the exchange.
An attractive man discussed with the same sommelier the connection between passion, oenology, trust, horses and the natural world. I was astounded at the intellectual discussion which I only in part understood,, but then the chevalier and I discussed in English.  Only in France does this level of Passion seem so tangible, yet it makes me feel so ignorant, humble and questioning as to why on earth I stayed within the four walls of an educational establishment much of my life, seemingly trying to educate, failing to educate myself, and generally wasting precious life!  Mind you, the pace of technology has brought about so much magic to the world that who can keep up with it!?
I sat where I did at the end of the bar, perched on the end of a table feeling comfortable and safe as a single woman, occasionally having interesting conversations, maintaining French as much as possible. I discovered the sommelier was part English/French/German. As I have said his passion and knowledge for oenology was fascinating as I concentrated on listening to improve my language skills.   I had two tokens left but he offered me a glass of the new Rosé which was the BEST rose wine I have tasted..... SO I wish to buy a case for Summer and friends!  THEN, he gave me a glass of PN 1328 -- which is named after 'une parcelle' of land.  This was such a fantastic wine and I did just sip and sip.  I'd like a case of hat too! The palate can taste the difference between wines even if one has tasted others before. And with that, when the music ended,  I came home to hot chocolate and bed, sensing that I had possibly missed a marvellous opportunity because friends from Toulouse called the chevalier to travel on. Probably just as well!

Unexpected encounters

PART ONE:
Herein lies a strange tale...where at this town square, a story evolved, where someone met another one, and a third one met the two ... oh no! oh ho! Funnily enough it wasn't that funny at the time, although I didn't know how to stop laughing.  I had to control myself for fear of ridiculing the situation. A flare-up would have been totally unnecessary.  However, I didn't know what to think, feel or do!  If I did this then that .... If I did that then this ... to retreat and leave the restaurant entirely? to sit down as invited? or to sit elsewhere? A few days later we laughed at the odds against such a rendezvous in France! An extreme experience!  
I am obliged to conduct discretion!  There was a sense of the ridiculousness in the distance that some people might go in order to meet others and / or feed from clandestine liaison; a ridiculousness in being furtive, in being not open! What does secrecy and deception achieve?  Lies, hidden truths, in its many forms, including being economical with the truth will result in being discovered.  I am not being high-minded! What goes around comes around!
The event happened because there were coincidences, circumstantial changes, changes of venue, changes of days, times, changes, changes, changes. Factors conspired to converge into making a story worthy as part of a novel:

1. Travel on Monday was altered to travel on Sunday.
2. Monday postal delivery arrived on Saturday.
3. Saturday energy levels were low. Sunday surged with energy, anticipation, excitement.  No reason to delay!
4. Admin and household tasks were completed on Saturday.
5. On Saturday lawns were mowed and a good weather forecast meant they wouldn't need a cut for ten days. A rarity this year!
6. A week earlier, there was a desperation for sights, sounds and smells of the sea but I couldn't find a cat sitter or else I would have been on that isle earlier than the invitation.  Alone, is perfect but company always welcomed.  Then, Saturday late afternoon, a window of opportunity emerged as a cat sitter WAS available.
7. Monday lunch was altered to Sunday supper but not to include me!
8. La Rochelle was altered to Île de Ré but not to include me!
9. I arrived. I wasn't going to 'eat out' but changed my mind.  I'd eaten my dessert on the beach and a can of mackerel and oat biscuits was to be my evening meal!  BUT, AS I was on holiday and could please my very own Self, unafraid of dining alone, an impulsive choice was made!
10. 'Dress up' was in mind, but I 'dressed down' because I only dress to please myself.  When I dine out I always, always 'dress up' and sometimes am 'over-dressed',  so I wondered what it was that made me change into faded blue, not such clean shorts and a favourite pretty top wearing THE summer hat?  I'd taken off the pretty blue double spotted summer dress that I had travelled in that afternoon.  In the suitcase were two other black dresses and a black classy jacket but nope I did not wear them!  I splashed on perfume which I always do every day!  IN FACT, I had no intention of meeting anyone!   I think that is why I dressed down! 
11. A favourite restaurant exists in the town of that particular campsite where three converged.
12.  One cannot rely upon seemingly instant internet communication being received and read!

PART TWO:
The following day a different encounter ensued. Last September a charming, attractive English speaking French man chatted to me on the beach whilst I ate my peach. We wrote. In Springtime I ended correspondence because  despite his romantic compliments and invitations it wasn't going anywhere.  
This September: with a backdrop of yachts in the harbour and stripey coloured awnings, oh my goodness, he came into view, but 2 metres from me!!!! We greeted, we chatted about his health, his travels to Spain and France in his camper-van, and how he had downsized his van from last year. We didn't discuss me.  As I indicated that it was time to get on my bike, he inched a step toward me, I stepped a step away, repeatedly, eventually stepping over the boardwalk chain.  It happened in the way that some people step into personal space.  It happened in that way that says, "I like you".  Time to travel!  I felt compassion and rather sad, a little guilty, but not responsible for being a heart-breaker!  It was how he described me in the Spring when I said I didn't wish to have a relationship! 
Later, I sat with companion one.  We agreed it was 'Touché' and laughed, but in my case this wasn't an intended or wished for rendezvous!
Strange and not so funny when so many people of my age live solo.  One rarely is aware of single people out and about. In France I rarely see them. Should we singles all wear a badge?
Not so funny when all of us have basic needs for a companion, mutual support, appreciation and respect from others and to care for others who are able to share emotional competency and well-being.

It may sound bizaare, but it is a true experience.  I have never crashed on someone's date before! 

Twelve years ago

... today, I became the owner of half a former English inn ... it was 400 years old, behind which, were old Tannery buildings, some had been demolished but others were renovated as storage, garage or workshop. I employed my best friend to renovate which he did exquisitely!  That house was my pride and joy apart from the fact traffic vibrated the living accommodation on the second floor in the loft space!  The pavement in front of the house was not really wide enough for a wheelchair or pushchair. One could almost reach out and touch the buses! I have some regret leaving that beautiful home which was haunted and I only discovered that in the last week.  The stained glass window on the front door was my design, representing the town and common, painted beautifully by my friend's daughter. One of our cats, Little Feat, used to greet Neal Powell, an author, almost every time he walked through the back yard. He adored her when she rolled over his brown polished leather shoes.

I must find photos of interior and exterior. It is one of my jobs to trawl through a lifetime of photos, paper, framed and unframed, and those on CD and on iphoto........ help!

My house was by the river, not far from Elizabeth Jane Howard's island. I always thought she was a most beautiful woman but when I lived near her I was too busy to read her novels. I enjoyed the recent BBC radio 4 serialisation of The Cazalets, always thinking that I could hear “her” speaking, then to my surprise I discovered that much was based on her own experiences.  I could sympathise and empathise with her somewhat Bohemian lifestyle, failed marriages, affairs of the heart, passion, mooning over men, mistreatment yet she'd had a good life …such ambivalence is there in love and passion. I know bohemian but not all her traumas, thank goodness!

I had the enormous privilege of meeting her in her kitchen. I remember being served tea and cake,  being in awe of her very simple lifestyle which reminded me of my grandmother, being allowed to wander onto her very own island. What joy to be on that piece of land that I had coveted and marveled at just a few years before, when, not knowing the future, I had stood on The Common and decided that I wished to live "over there". Unwittingly, unknowingly, I completed my dream in 2002.  It was several years later that the memory of the incident returned. 

What a wonderful thing for her to have lived where she lived and to have written from her heart.

What a wonderful thing for me that I met her... just the once and I can write from my heart.  She was a great authoress.  In Memoriam.

Feeling the pain and rising above it........

I felt the breeze change last night. Autumn cometh.
The weather has changed: temperatures  in / out  for day / night have been similar for some time BUT NOW a 10C degree difference between outdoors / indoors accompanies the rain, scuppering an idea to clear the wood pile! Sabotage!

I feel Life's tempest brewing ......

I haven't posted because living alone allows too much opportunity for introspective thinking on making sense of this world and I am fast coming to the conclusion there is NO SENSE:  it is all NON SENSE!
LIFE is short.  Perhaps it has to be enjoyed no matter how hedonistic.  I've invested too much time and energy in the man that I thought I loved. I know I did love him even back in 1998 when first we became unstable.  Why has it lasted so long? Why does it take so long to heal? 

MY STRUGGLE IS THAT I HAVE deeply rooted PRINCIPLES of prudishness, pride, honesty, loyalty, integrity, decency and dignity and feel that I should be honoured and cherished for my womanhood and that THAT is also what I should offer for any man who wants to be with me!
BUT IT AINT ALWAYS LIKE THAT!!!!!!
I've made errors of judgement with my principles / behaviour but I don't have to punish who I am. 
One tries to go with the flow of life... tries to keep busy... tries to keep calm and reflect, consider motives for what I WANT TO DO IN MY LIFE, now that someone says I am a liberated woman with a thousand voices and says I rock his boat !
How nice! How flattering but it can't last!
BUT then the dream and reality of unreality crashes on the rocks! The rock is on a stormy sea. I clearly contributed to The Previous One's behaviour.  it wasn't all my fault even though he blamed and criticised me for my imperfections, failings, weaknesses. THAT is exactly what he worked upon to keep me down whenever I got strong.

Why is it that my rebellious teenager or my playtime seeking child won't listen to my adult? 
 
How much can anyone ever believe anyone?
How much can anyone trust others ... or is it all to be interpreted as a pack of lies as each one of us in the world seeks to meet our own individual needs in a selfish world?
Have I become too cynical?
Have I too much time to think?
Is it because I've been down on the floor so many times, picked myself up, dusted myself down and started all over again that I will keep doing that until I learn what it is I need to learn?
Someone please shout at me the blindingly obvious!
How can anyone ever protect themselves from the pain that is bound to come when one has had pleasure or feels bliss when it all disintegrates?
I get blissful whilst on my bike, whilst looking out with wonder across stubbled fields, clover, fields where millet ripens, huge leaved crops that must be the Nicotiana family ... tobacco,  yellow and green sunflowers in serried ranks, praising the SUN, which I do too ...... I bow my head as I eat my apple and praise God for the fact that I am alive and mobile and my happiness pours forth into the world.
I need to be emotionally inert.  That's a laugh a minute ... it'll happen when I am dead!
One tries to see good in everyone ... and know that as human beings we all feel the same ...
One tries to be compassionate and caring. I do try to love who I am and what I am so that I can share that love with others. It all sounds so trite.
One tries to know purpose in life and to what degree of fulfilment one could achieve for Self and to give to others.
I wish to meet new people, go to new places, hear new stories, do new things, see culture, so that I can learn more about REALITY.
I want to go travelling, be a hobo, but the time is not yet here.
There is a roof to be re-roofed, a kitchen to be gutted,  a bunion to be lanced, logs to be collected / delivered / stacked and how to do this with a hobbly foot will be interesting and then the rest....
This the former professional, a sometimes feisty woman who used to juggle two kids as a single parent with a full-time teaching commitment working all hours that God sent in order to prove my worth (the failing school grew from a roll of 30 ish children to 120 on roll when I was Acting Head [for my sins]). I studied for my degree status  at the same time. Before that the three of us lived in a house with subsidence where inside temperatures were below zero! Was I too busy with my job to take care of me and my kids. On reflection it did not seem to be enough but it has to be because it cannot be redone!

Mindful in solitude, I try to do the following but make little headway because of self-sabotage. 
1. Wake up ... go to sleep.
2. Eat and drink a balanced diet to lose weight before the foot incapacitates me for 3 to 6 months.
3. Exercise - I spent too long on my bottom last winter.  This Summer into Autumn I am proud of activity. I can easily walk fast for an hour in the morning and cycle for an hour or two each afternoon / evening.  It is not enough. BUT is enough for someone who had M.E., who could not walk between two groynes on a beach without a helping hand, who had to crawl up the stairs and shuffle down on her bottom, who fell asleep whilst the kettle boiled!
4. TRY to tick off jobs and tasks...e.g. currently having to make a decision on MUTUELLE payments as this is a task that has been shelved for 7 years and the recent enquiry with quotes is one year old... I have to pay out for my health costs because I have chosen to live in France. Only a percentage is picked up by the NHS... (what is that these days?)  Other goals must be to decide how to purchase a new vehicle so I pray that my little Clio keeps on moving....
5. TRY to Sort & Clear out STUFF I have not used, do not use, will never use again... Whew that is such a challenge!!!!!!  There in my attic are family photos ... newspaper cuttings, memorabilia, treasured items of monetary and emotional value...  There on my computer are photographic memories and a muddled collection of writings....and the whole story needs strategic thinking and a million ways of threshing to dump or keep in an honoured way. It's pretty scary to open sealed boxes from the past, when memories good and bad arrive to hit one in the head and heart. Currently the floor is littered with books not sold at the Books Festival ... not the same as a UK Literary Festival! but that is what this village needs to do.  It is stuck in old ways and is not keeping up with modernity... One can't keep presenting the same format... We did that at school for sports day and barbecue nights and then someone came and shook it all up!!!!! It needed a revamp and so did we, the staff!
6. TRY to think clearly, proactively. logically. No thinking would be good too.
7. TRY to formulate ideas for a plan for the future!
8. Laugh A Minute!    It keeps a level of sanity in the why of why this has happened in my life.

It's my blog... I can write about what I choose.

Summer Scents with Springsteen

It was 24 degrees in the twilight tonight as I danced in my kitchen and courtyard to Bruce Springsteen Born to Run and many other wonderful magic songs by he, the man who is such a delight with the E Street Band........ Go to here.
When I walked around the town earlier to descend stone steps and ascend different ones, to stand on the bridge to ponder, then walk under the bridge to be stunned by clematis and roses,  the heavy, heavenly perfume-ladened atmosphere identified near the chateau, clung to me wherever I went and still the scent haunts me but I wear no perfume......the lingering, scent that I have not experienced before in this village is creeping through my open doors.......and the smell of wisteria or jasmine or I don't know what,  pervades and is so wonderful that I do not wish to go to bed........nights like these where I can sit in my courtyard and feel WARMTH through all my skin and bones ..... oh my love......it's when I love France and love Life and Flowers.

November 2011

 

NOVEMBER 2011

She walks along the village street where houses made of stone

hide and then reveal an ancient proud chateau

rising high to meet the sky.

She greatly wonders with surprise at this edifice vast and tall

and whose immense imagination

laboured to create such a visual foil.

She marvels at the awesome sight where none have lived since ancient times

and stands to stare in disbelief

like a visitor for the very first time.

She continues walking downward strokes a cat along the way

until she comes to her favourite place 

a mirror for antiquity, a pretty water way.

She stands to listen better

To the silence of the river

As it travels ever lower

Listens to the talking river

Hears the water chattering over

The weir babbling drops together

As thoughts and smiles of laughter

Walk precariously by the river

Broken branches stepping over

Rocks stones and mosses gather

In awe hearing mighty water

Like a child of Hiawatha

Alone with Mother Nature

Golden brown and fading ochre

Cling to trees as Autumn cover

Carpets leafed grey-brown-a-flutter

Scuffle shuffle smell and wonder

River winds around the corner

Of the silhouetted verdure

Forgets her other culture

City life and social banter

Forgets crowds and people chatter

Remembers though the fun and laughter

Remembers holding hands with youngster

Throwing stones in ocean water

Splash. Allow the sea to chase her.

Remember. Arm in arm. A lover.

Hear the buzzard screel and the caw of crows

Marvel at musky damp beneath her toes

Emanating from stones and leaves

Mother earth and moist wet trees

The sight of vivid verdant emerald

Of grass-bright-green moss-cushions-gold

Wonder the source of this wild French river
As Azerables joins the Gartempe and ponder

The damp wet beauty and olfactory aroma.

Evp November 2011

To marvel at the water's edge

More frequently do I arrive at the river

to marvel at the water’s edge,

to walk against the current, or to walk with the flow,

to sit on a rock contemplating the wondrous day,

to hear burbling,

to meditate how deep reflections of trees are

with upside-down trunks playing trickery,

causing my mind to think that the course of water runs so deep,

when in reality

the river bed is not much more than a metre below the surface

on which leaves float,

where here and there

a surprise splash of frog or fish breaks the quiet surface tension

between wetness and air.

Towards the evening sun of October

look up high

to the bright blue sky and watch a distant plane paint its path,

look down low

to see the ball of heat reflected with sparkling, twinkling, diamante rays.

A small breeze buffets newly grown poplar shoots arising from old trunks cut down last Autumn before Winter 
to make way for Spring growth.

Passers by with dogs,

elderly arm in arm,

young in a different embrace,

family scenes,

solitary ones,

all enjoy pleasure from this garden.

I alone, learn to be alone, walk alone at my own speed,

having to wait for no one else but only me alone in my world,

not lonely,

yet sense aloneness

as I frequently arrive at the river to marvel at the water’s edge.

Evp

October 2011

Another marvellous female musician

Anna Calvi

Zaidi Zaidi - a Macedonian Song

Exquisite Sevdah sung by Amira Medunjanin from Bosnia and music from Sidonia, Romania, Estonia.
Listen to the delayed acoustics and the beautiful duduk, a variety of shawm.