Soar-Dream-France

Are You Up?

Most people wouldn't see it, but believe it or not, being the very very very early bird I am has many benefits.  Sure, it's still dark when I get up, but I get to commune with the morning moon, Orion, constellations, and the Milky Way on a regular basis.  Over the years, I've blamed it on split shifts in high school that had me at the bus stop in the dark at 5am to get to school for 6 and most recently menopause, but the truth is I like it.  It's the best time of the day.  I'm energized. I have a head start on the rest of the world.  Since moving to France, I've learned that a side benefit to me getting up between 3 and 5 am on most days is that friends and family back in the states haven't even gone to bed yet.  The first thing I do in the morning is check e-mails and write.  It isn't unusual to have received an e-mail from my sister Kat, that I'll respond to.  Sometimes, she answers me back right away.  At that point, I'll send another e-mail that starts off with: "Are You Up?" I think that's a pretty fair question, since I'm just getting out of bed.  She'll often write me back and say "yes", and I'll respond or sometimes call. This morning I called. I chuckled when she said: "I was going to go back and check the e-mails before I went to bed because you usually write back or call.  Then the phone rang!  I guess I could ask you the same question...Are you up?" She knows me well. Even though there's thirteen years between Kat and I, I hung up the phone this morning wondering when it was we got so close. It really doesn't matter, I'm just glad we are. Today's photo is a "twofer"-hanging out in my overalls in the Delmar Loop with Kat and photographer Tom!  Happy Saturday!

Colorful Columbus Street

Once I made up my mind from France that I wanted to repair the Columbus Street House and Apartment to put them both on the market for lease, I had no idea what was to come. It seemed "doable" given all the known quantities at the time.  Without going into all the details of this horror story, let's just say that knowing what I know now it was "don't-able". I never thought that one day I'd be turning my home of 26 years over to contractors and inspectors who were going to turn it into something that was pretty much unrecognizable to me.  But then, it wasn't going to be my home anymore and everyone kept telling me that I had to "let go".  If I had followed my guts (on more issues than just this), I would have done the minimal repairs and renovations to get it on the market as soon as possible.  But, I was advised that there should be more bathrooms, bigger bathrooms, more closets, renovations on the second floor, dishwashers, and no color.  I am a color person, as evidenced by my rather "bright" pre-storm kitchen in the big house. (I did put my foot down on changing out the bathroom in the apartment-it still has the ivory wall paper with Paris scenes highlighted in blue that was there when I bought my place in 1980. Those Eiffel Towers were staying.) I was frequently told: "Most people just don't live like you do Laury", which I now know should have offended me.  And John, my property manager has had to frequently say: "Try to think of it as just a nice piece of rental property." Or the people at Chase, who called it an "investment property" when I talked to them about refinancing the mortgage. That was all well and good when it was "a nice piece of rental property" during 2007, but in 2008 the big house didn't rent and the tenant who lasted in the apartment only a few months was a horror story all her own. I was never quite able to make the mental and emotional leap to only a "rental" or "investment" property. My heart hurt on every visit. So, I return to New Orleans the first week of December on a quest for the New New Orleans.I expect that journey will begin in my own little corner on the second floor of the big house when I smack some color on those walls.  It's time to put some of me back in Columbus Street!

My Ghosts and the New New Orleans

Writing about Dali and I walking in City Park yesterday, reminded me of all the beautiful photos I have from our walks and my mornings journaling from behind the urns at the New Orleans Museum of Art.  It is difficult for me to post about New Orleans, for reasons that I may or may not share over time.  I've asked myself why I haven't shared many of these beautiful photos with you before.  They are hanging in our library here in Cadrieu.  I must confess that I cried the day I framed this and many of the other photos to take them to the Mairie.  They are ghost photos.  Some of these photos that I am going to share with you over time are photos that you couldn't take today.  This tree is gone. All the trees you see in the shadows along the left of the photo are gone. I must admit that I had hoped they could be saved.  Imagine my shock when I returned in May of 2007 to handle some problems with the house, and discovered the views below when I decided to return to Columbus Street through City Park.  So, as I get ready to return to set up my own little corner of the New New Orleans in the upstairs of my former Columbus Street home, I expect more ghosts will continue to rise. When Gaynell and I talked about our plans for the house, we agreed that we're looking forward to what our New New Orleans is going to become from Columbus Street.  And, I'm sure you'll hear more about that over time.

Both yesterday's and today's overalls photos were taken by my friend Greg in City Park.  I got to know Greg because he generally lived in the Park and slept near the Casino.  We talked every morning. He was always polite, never asked for money, bright, and eventually I discovered that he had begun working in the park. I didn't see him in the park anymore once I returned after the storm.  At that point, Dali and I began walking in the neighborhood and then I would ride my bike through the park.  Even on my bike, I think I would have seen him.  I just hope that wherever he is, he's fine and doing well.

Time and the Art of Living

I'm not sure who this surrealist sculpture is by, but it is one of my favorites in Paris that you can find near the Gare St. Lazare as you're walking down the Rue d'Amsterdam.  It does an amazing job of catching the concept of "time" visually. It always seems that time evaporates as I'm getting ready to return to the states.  This year feels like it has flown by.  Mon Dieu, it's November already.  It seems that the older I get, the faster time flies. One of the things I love best about living this sweet, slower, uncomplicated life in France, is that there is a sense of timelessness in this place.  I sometimes sit on the stone front steps, at a break along the road in the stone wall of the train tracks, next to the lavoir, on the terrace or in the barn, and feel that this really could be any moment in time in this sweet place.  It is a luxury not to have to worry too much about time here.  I have to coordinate business in the states from time to time, catch a bus or two, but I enjoy the soft, easy, natural flow to life that doesn't have to be crammed into someone else's schedule.  That said, it's all about to change next year.  I'm hoping that I'll have perfected the art of hanging on to these timeless, boundary-less moments of here and translating them to anywhere in the world.  To be honest, there is no where I'd rather be than just right here.

During 2000, we had hail the size of softballs rain down on us in my  neighborhood in New Orleans.  It was the Sunday night that the St. Louis Rams won the Super-bowl.  I heard pounding noise on the aluminum siding and thought that someone was breaking into my house on Columbus Street. Dali was barking like crazy. Imagine my shock when I saw this huge hail.  I got my umbrella and thought about moving my truck, but realized I'd be injured if I went out in it at all.  I needed a new roof and windows, but my truck ended up being fine.  That was the winter that Dali and I began to drive to City Park in the mornings to walk.  With all the work that was going on at the house, it was nice to be able to get away from the neighborhood a little bit and enjoy the peacefulness of the park in the morning.  This shot of me in my overalls with Dal, was taken by one of our morning regulars over by the Casino Shelter and Cafe.  I'm not out of overalls shots yet...I think I'm going to make it to the 20th! Happy Armistice Day!

French Stamps & Columbus Street Smiles

On Saturday's "coach" trip into Cahors, one of my main objectives was to head to the Post Office to mail a few important packages and...my invitations to my friends to International Overalls Day.  As always, the line was huge but I eventually made my way to the window.  I love it when the postman asks you if you want "jolis timbres", before you have to ask for them yourself.  I asked if they still had the chocolate stamps.  He returned with chocolate stamps, some cartoons, and these very beautiful dolls.  It felt like Christmas! I couldn't resist-2 sheets of chocolate and one sheet of these dolls.  I've already used half of the first sheet of chocolate and will probably put a doll stamp on letters to Mom as a little extra present, since she loves dolls so much.  I've now been able to get chocolate stamps at post offices in Figeac, Cajarc and now Cahors!

After yesterday's overalls but not quite overalls shot of Gaynell and I, I thought you might get a kick out of what the rest of the outfit looked like below my smiling face.  I expect to be out in the garden and doing some painting inside the big house in my overalls on this next trip back to the states.  I'll be in New Orleans/Baton Rouge/Covington from November 30 to December 9, in hopes of getting Columbus Street back on the road to being a happy place once more.  It hasn't been a happy place since the storm. So, as I ponder having my own little corner of the New New Orleans in the upstairs of the big house, I'm detecting just a hint of a Columbus Street Smile.  Maybe it'll be on the way to smiling like me in the photo by the time I head back to France and Gaynell is settled in and comfortable! 

Collage-ing Photos and Columbus Street

I've been trying to figure out for a while now here, how I could share the collages of photos I make as greeting and holiday cards for my friends and family.  This morning I tried scanning this card and it has worked, but the colors seem to be a little washed out here in translation.  I'm going to keep trying and see if I can get a little better quality.  I have a few more ideas to see if I can get these colors to be their brilliant selves that they are on the originals. 

Looking for my overalls shot for today, I came upon this shot of my friend Gaynell and I on the back steps to the apartment on Columbus Street.  It may not look like I have overalls on, but the strap had detached and I just kept working.  I was full of paint and having a good old time painting the lattice work around the bottom of the house and the apartment a very pretty soft lavender color...I believe it was called "pussy willow"! It was 2004, and Gaynell took a pack of pictures that day of me in my overalls...working, being silly, and then we got this shot together with Gaynell holding the camera. We had a lot of fun that afternoon.  You'll remember Gaynell as my Ms. Williams of More from an earlier post.  I'm really excited to say that Gaynell is going to be living in the big house on Columbus Street.  We're going to be sorting out all the details and arrangements when I'm in New Orleans in November, but we have a plan.  It's a plan that's going to be good for both of us.  More on that another time-hooray for my Ms. Williams of More and a friend who loves me in whatever I'm wearing...especially my overalls!

Special Bus Stops and Such

After posting earlier this week about Calvignac and the hike it would be if I were to try it on the bus, I discovered on my way to Cahors yesterday morning that the bus does in fact stop at the base of the bridge that crosses the Lot on over to Calvignac.  I ended up sitting in the front and got a very informative lesson from my bus driver on French pronounciation, varieties of buses and more.  When Ron and I were coming back to the Chatette from Cahors on the bus this past July, this particular bus driver invited me for a coffee sometime.  I don't know what got into me, but I said okay.  Here we are in November, and this is the first time I've seen him since.  Yesterday, I didn't say "non". I ran through Cahors in the rain and finished my errands in just about an hour so I could get back to the station to meet him there for a coffee.  We visited for about 45 minutes, until he drove the return run too and I took it home.  I'm guessing that I'm old enough to be his mother.  You should have seen the size of his eyes, when I told him about my Greyhound bus trip in 1978...30 years ago.  Oh, and it was a "coach" not a bus! I loved this Calvignac overalls shot where I am "happy" and having some fun! Happy Sunday!

Rainy Days Everywhere

You wouldn't know it at the moment, but when I left to catch the bus (or should I say coach?) to Cahors this morning, it was pouring down rain.  I had my bottles in my backpack to put in the bottle bin, then I crossed over to the other side of the road to catch my bus. I had already decided that this shot of Paris on a sad and rainy day, would be the photo for today's post. I'd even gone so far as to turn this color photo of Dali and I into sepia toned, so I wouldn't take too much away from my Paris shot.  Dali was quite an interesting puppy. She was almost 6 months old, when my brother Tom and I saw her for the first time at the SPCA in New Orleans.  Who would have known that this funny looking young girl, would turn into the raving beauty that my Dali is today.  There was a note on her cage saying her name was DD-and how wonderful she was. We took her out to the yard to walk with her and see how she was with us.  She was calm, sweet and once that paw was in my hand after I asked her to sit, that was all she wrote. Tom and I sat in the clinic with her so she could get her shots and other appointments set.  One of the vets, Jean McCall walked by and asked: "Are you adopting that dog?" When I said yes, she screamed: "You've made my day." I was told later by the staff when I went to volunteer that the DD stood for two things: "please Don't Die" and "Distemper Dog".  Even though she's a girl-if you look at those whiskers, snout and feet, the surrealism kicks in and you can see where "Dali" came from. I can't imagine life without my Dali.  I hate to say it, but if I had to choose between Dal and my overalls-it would have to be my Dal! Happy Saturday-I have a very fun bus story to tell you tomorrow!

From Calvignac-Change Was on the Wind

   

One of the prettier cliff-clinging villages along the Lot is Calvignac. I first ventured there in 1999 and fell in love with this cross, the view, its archways, and its tiny church that feels much more like a grotto than a church. I've returned many times since then with friends, but only when they have cars since it is on the other side of the Lot from me.

 I could probably make it over for a visit if I took the bus and got off in Larnagol, but it would be quite a hike.

I took these two shots on the left during that same trip during 1999.  I called them "Calvignac Coming" and "Calvignac Going".

One of the best times I had in Calvignac was in the summer of 2005, when my friend Jane was staffing their local gallery for the summer.  Joan and I would go visit her from time to time and sit outside the gallery drinking tea in very proper English Tea Cups, pinkies and all.

We spent a lot of time outside the gallery together that summer and made plans to have a girls night out at the local restaurant "La Terrasse" that has an incredible view of the river from on high. We managed to get a pack of six or seven of us together before those of us part-timers headed back to wherever we came from, and the full-timers had the luxury of hanging tight.  Little did any of us know at that last dinner that before we were all together again: one would lose a partner, one would separate from her husband, one would face a hurricane, and one would return to England with 2 of her children.  And don't you love how I snuck this Calvignac Overalls shot in on you? 

People and Pets and Moving On

I've already done a post on All Saints and Souls, but a couple of my regular readers would love to see some more of the photos that I shot in our tiny cemetery here in Cadrieu.  This one above is for me, since I love these china numbers so much.  The shots below are for Kat, Tom and Evelyn.  I hope you guys enjoy them.

To wrap up today's post, I of course, have an overalls photo to share with you from the past.  Here I am with my dog Cotton, in the garden on Columbus Street.  I got Cotton down in the French Market back in 1984.  A friend and I were wandering around, and there was this tiny white ball of fur screaming "I want to come and live with you!"  If I could have just walked on by, but no.  I had to pick her up and hold her.  So, I plunked down my $85 and my "Cotton" came home with me.  She was quite a photogenic girl herself, over the 14 years she lived with me on Columbus Street.  I look back on those years, and realize that the whole time I had Cotton I was working like a dog.  (No pun intended) My brother Tom was renting the apartment behind the house at that time, so he would check on her.  He told me that every day at 5pm she would want to go outside and wait by the gate until I came home from work.  She was smart.  She knew that I would always come home to see her and let her out if I needed to, before I went off to some other work meeting or event.  As she got older, she didn't wait for me by the gate any longer.  But, as soon as I'd open the front door...there she was.  She began to have a lot of problems towards the end of her life.  I told my Vet, I just kept hoping she would die and then I wouldn't have to deal with putting her down.  He told me that only happens in about 10% of the cases.  We weren't in that 10%. All I know is that it took me quite a while before I could walk in my front door on Columbus Street and not look for my sweet "Cotton Dog".