Soar-Dream-France

Yes, My Dali and Sam...

...it won't be long now. I have a last weekend here with snatches of time for me, between last minute paperwork and projects of all kinds at all levels. It doesn't stop. That means, I don't stop. So, I keep these sweet faces in sight and know that they are waiting for me along with the light at the end of this tunnel.

"BOSSing" at the FEST

Bruce Springsteen during the first weekend of the JazzFest in New Orleans...Mon Dieu! Talk about a memory mixer. My brother Tom just posted the news on Facebook, so when I saw this picture of Tom and I with the Lucky Dog Vendor taken on Decatur Street in the French Quarter I had to post it. The last time Bruce was at the Fest was 2006. Given the times, it was a heartwrenching, poignant performance for me. But, sharing it with both of my brothers was incredible. At the moment, it's difficult to think much further ahead than February 5 when I will be home at the Chatette and sleeping in my own bed with Dal and Sam. Could JazzFest 2012 be in my future?

Hearts Galore

After spending a lot of time with kids who seem to live to draw and make hearts, I went to work over the weekend to transform my remaining Christmas cards into Valentine's Day cards. It may seem early, but I'm planning ahead. By the time I get home on the 5th of February, I'll barely have enough time to get my cards in the mail to my friends and family in the states. I also know from past experience that I will be totally exhausted, et voila...mine went in the mailbox to the states yesterday! As if my weekend actvities weren't enough, I found myself back in the heart making business again at the art table... some are heart making experts while others are still learning. Drawing again myself, someone commented on how pretty my heart was. I thanked her and told her how beautiful hers was too, and added: "I've been making hearts for 50 years!" She giggled. The staff thought it was hilarious. Me, I just keep making hearts while encouraging the rest.

Jacket Art

Beautiful buttons, tailored sleeves, double-breasted, and very 'militaryish'; I had to share the new jackets with you after yesterday's post. I only hope that they will show up on this black background. I may even wear one to work. The question is-how much paint, play dough, glitter and glue can I manage to decorate them with today?

Retail Angst or Retail Therapy?

As much as I love living in the country and spending most of my time in my overalls, I have very painful moments when I'm out clothes shopping. You see, I still want the pretty stiletto boots and high heels along with the swishy, short, dancing sequined numbers. I'm the one you see standing/twirling at the mirror in Dillards wearing the tres chic, fur-lined, very high-heeled winter boots, saying to Kat: "Oh, I want these...but I'm going to buy those." Those, being the very sensible, short, black, well-made, heavy soled, slightly heeled ECCO boots, that come with a WARRANTY. If you had seen the pair of shoes I bought in Figeac that I left at Dillards after my purchase, you would understand. The sales-woman turned to Kat and said: "You let her go out of the house in those?" (Little did she know that I had traveled all the way from France in them.) We had a good laugh, but they truly were a total wreck. I'd only purchased them for a not small price (100 euros) at the beginning of August-this was early November and they were crumbling around my feet. I've had to ask myself if it's that: I'm hard on shoes; I live a life of walking on railroad tracks, country roads, rocks, farms and mountains, or, maybe the shoes I get in France are just not made very well.  Not one pair of the shoes/boots that I have purchased since I moved to France has lasted me to the following season...3-6 months at the most. (I do, however, have high hopes for the winter boots I purchased here in Holland.)

Yesterday, I returned to a shop I had first visited with colleagues. Most of the clothes were way out of my price and practicality ranges, but I did find a beautifully made gray jacket on the budget rack for 30 euros. I tried it on and imagined how pretty it would be with a fancy scarf and my overalls this winter. It was large enough to fit over my long-johns, huge black cowl-neck cable knit sweater, and my overalls. I was ready to buy it, but the saleslady and my colleagues kept telling me that it was too big and bringing me other things to try that were way more expensive and didn't fit my lifestyle. Frustration set in. I bought nothing.

My jacket was still there on yesterday's return. I tried it on again and told my story to a different saleswoman. She seemed to understand. She cared about what I had to say and listened to my customer needs, even though English is not her first language. She brought over 2 other jackets off the budget rack, now for 25 euros. One was military-style, double-breasted, and a deep blue/grey-crinkled material with silver metal buttons on the front and on the sleeves. The minute I put it on, I could see it over my overalls and could wear it to work the remainder of my time here. What a deal! Two, beautiful, finely made, formerly expensive, jackets that I can wear for work and at the Chatette, for only 25 euros a piece. Now, that's my kind of retail therapy!

Looking at these terrains of my life and knowing me, as m any of you do...how would you assess my shoe/boot dilemma?

No Hearts for the Cauliflower

 

One of my favorite things to do when I'm working with children on art projects, is to sit with them, talk to them and draw, paint, construct, or color one of my own. One assignment had us drawing colorful and healthy fruits and vegetables. A variety of plastic fruits and vegetables were already available to begin our journey into healthy still life representations. I found myself thinking we might have future Cezannes and VanGoghs in our midst. We had fun. Everyone made their choice. Some filled their pages with collages of fruit and vegetables, while others put one on a page and came back for more and more paper. No one chose the eggplant, so I chose it first. I remembered the wonderful eggplant casserole with shrimp that my Grandma Bourgeois used to make, my favorite Mousaka at Spiro's Restaurant in St. Louis, and a layered number I do at home with eggplant, tomatoes and a cabecou cheese melted in the middle. The corn was the most challenging and the watermelon was the most fun. We learned the names of each fruit and vegetable as we went along, but pretty soon they snuck a heart or two in among the peppers, peaches, and strawberries. There were no hearts for the poor cauliflower. It just wasn't colorful enough, and probably difficult to draw. I had just been thinking that Mom and Dad had received very little artwork on this trip. So, voila. This piece is in the mail: To Mom and Dad in America!-Love, Laury

I thought a lot about how unhealthy I eat when I'm working-chocolate, cookies and sandwiches. Pining for home and healthy food-I thought I'd share this shot below of my table full of healthy summer fruit and color!

I Am My OVERALLS!

Seriously needing to feel like "ME" this morning, I woke with a drive to put my overalls on and just go to work in them. I know that is impossible for a lot of reasons...work for one and not having this particular pair even with me for two. But, this is me. As I've said before, I am my overalls. So, I put on my tights and my boots and my dress and head out once more...pining for the day when I'm back at the Chatette, in my overalls, in front of the fireplace, with Dali and Sam.

Sunflower Therapy

 

 

What field of sunflowers wouldn't put a smile on your face? Then, add in other crops (tobacco-corn), the causse, the rushing river Lot music and you get: MORE SMILES!

Jumping In Up To...

Having written about jumping into the work week with both feet on my last post, I had no idea that I'd be feeling a bit like this guy through the window at the end of Monday. I am now not quite through hump day and am still exhausted, shaky, a bit blurry, and not feeling quite 'balanced'-as Ceasar would say. My jumping in has gone way past my ankles and is resting somewhere just below that place you breathe. This weekend may call for 2 full PJ Days. You've probably noticed that not a lot of blogging is happening at the moment. I promise. I'll be back when I can.

Through the Eyes of Others

This evening, I was in the mood for pizza and invited some of my colleagues to join me...easy, no pressure, come if you want and nibble before jumping in to another week of work. We'd talked a little about my home and they asked to see pictures. As luck would have it, I still had the memory cards in my passport pouch of photos and movies I'd taken to show Mom and Dad. I always hesitate to do this with others, having once sat through 500 photos of a missionary trip to the Amazon. But, I skipped and edited a bit as we went along. Seeing this place...the way it rests, the history, so much left to be discovered...it was described as a 'dream', a 'dream world', and the kind of place that they too would like to find. Evelyn and I often talk about how when we are 'away' from home, it sometimes feels unreal. We know it exists. We know it is home. We know we've been there and we live there. But, this place is so different and unique from anything we have ever experienced in the world that had been our lives, it feels Brigadoonish when we are away. As my tarot card reader once told me: "You've found your place in the sun, Laury." Me, I know that I have found heaven on earth.