Soar-Dream-France

Digging and Toting

Imagine the photo above totally submerged under a foot to a foot and a half of soil, gravel, and stones! I can't get over how beautiful it is, and just do a little bit each day.  I'm at the stage where soil must be moved somewhere so I can progress.  I have a bunch of buckets that I fill, carry out and dump along the edge of the train tracks where there is already a deep gully.  The soil is good and is going to even out the land nicely.  I'm close to reaching my goal for now...to get as far as the post and two cross boards you see in the background.  Off to dig and tote!

 

Mélange-ing a Little Magic for a Friend

Last year, I had what I thought was a great idea to make some money and stay here at the Chatette.  I called it Mélange-ing Magic, advertised a little, and ended up offering the opportunity to pilot the idea for me to my new blogging friend, Evelyn Jackson.  (You can learn more about Evelyn over at www.redbellfarm.blogspot.com) Evelyn spent the month of September here with us, and as I've told her: "You are the magic that was mélange-ed." Yesterday, Evelyn's photos arrived to be hung in this year's vernissage-The Gallery in the Cave-and it pushed me to ponder.  Lots is dangling for Evelyn at the moment, and I wondered what magic we could mix here for Evelyn to get that immortal magic moving in her life.  I began with Evelyn's creative magic and her music magic, and mixed them into our own very special formula here at the Chatette.  No further explanations are needed...when you see the photo collage below-I think you understand.  I have a feeling it's working already!

Cahors-ing is Always a Good Thing

Saturday was a beautiful sunny, cool day that made my journey to Cahors even more enjoyable than usual.  After too much champagne the night before, I considered skipping the trip; but I had an upcoming birthday mission that needed to happen sooner than later.  I'm going to take you on a bit of a photographic journey of my trip.

My first mission of the day was to see if they had Louise Bourgeois commemorative stamps at the Post Office.  I arrived to a short line, but even so, the man came out and asked what I needed. I told him: "Un timbre special de Louise Bourgeois." He says: "Je ne connais pas le, mais vien ici je regarderai." He returned with a huge plastic bag full of Louise Bourgeois stamps. Even he was surprised how beautiful they were.  Although I can use them for postage to the states, they were meant for presents for friends and family.  I went to hell with myself and just bought a whole sheet.  At 1.35€ each...40.50€-we like our stamps in my family!

My next stop was my regular office store on the Rue Gambetta since it was cartouche time again, I'll need another journal soon, I'm out of card stock, got a few birthday cards and found these interesting bookmarks...light, pretty, cheap, and hold your page with two tiny magnets at the bottom!  (The orange gerber daisy is already on it's way to my brother Jim for his birthday, and these will be hitting the road shortly with Louise.)  I hit my flavored coffee shop for reinforcements, and then headed on over to the market and St. Etienne.

I've been particularly grateful as of late, so it seemed only right that I go to hell with myself here too...Gratitude Partout! I got one big candle, one small candle, and then one of the little votives of St. Therese for good measure.  Lots of Grateful is Good!

In the market I scooped these beautiful pink lilies. It was the usual question-are they a gift.  I tried my: "C'est un cadeau pour moi", but it didn't work this time.  I only got a hunk of newsprint around the bottom.  As I turned around to leave after I paid, the man beside me was taking a photo of me and my flowers. I smiled.  We talked about how beautiful they were and I thanked him and went on.  I'd sure love one of those photos, but that's the way it goes! "Made" a few groceries at the Casino and then headed down to the station.

 I arrived at the station planning to have a ham and cheese and a little glass of red wine, but ran to the toilette first.  I sat a moment and watched the 12:30 train coming in from Toulouse on its way to Paris.  Since the service was a little slow at the bar, I opted for just the red wine. On my way to the bus I scooped my International Herald Tribune and of course, a couple of sinful favorites to make up for no sandwich.  (At least that's what I told myself anyway.) Another wonderful Saturday Cahors-ing!

Cahors-Mission Accomplished

Teasing you just a bit this Sunday morning, as I am running out the door to do something that starts with a "D".  If you guessed "digging" you would be wrong...today it's "Drinking"! The village has what they call a bar d'été (summer bar) at various times during the summer. They start at noon and are usually on Sundays, so I'm on my way up to make an appearance.  I thought I'd tease you with just one of the photos from yesterday's sojourn into Cahors.  I had many missions, of which all were accomplished.  You can see a couple of them in this photo.  More photos and stories to follow.  For now, Happy Sunday!

Petit à Petit...

Tardy and tired from a long day in Cahors; once I unpacked the purple backpack I hit the sofa and fell straight to sleep.  No digging in the barn for me today, but (as you can see from this shot on the left) I make a little more progress every day.  I've picked up a few more tools, and have some ideas about how I can keep the soil from sneaking back in and covering up all my hard work once more. As hard as this work is, I love the immediate gratification.  It's beautiful and I can see the progress a little bit every day as I go.  Happy Saturday!

Life in the Lot Goes On

Just because I've been spending my time here on the blog being really grateful for my positive return to the states, doesn't mean that lots hasn't been happening in the Lot in the meantime. One of the biggest happenings for me has been discovering beautiful stone beneath the soil on the floor of the barn.  If you look at that first photo, you can see where part of the problem originates.  All that soil from the hill is washing down and we're partially below the ground to begin with.  I'm fascinated that the stone on the floor is so different from the stone used to build the walls.  The textures and patterns speak to me. I've mentioned before how this area around the Chatette and the Barn had to be filled in so both the main road and the train tracks could have been added in the late 1800's for the train and early 1900's for the road.  Evidence once more of our two lives in this place: before the road and the train tracks when what you see was the ground level and after the road and the train tracks where our beauty and charm are hidden beneath a foot to a foot and a half or more of soil and gravel.  I plan to keep digging.  What do you think?  Is all of that floor in the barn made of this beautiful stone?  The romantic in me hopes so, even if my body is screaming "No More!"

GRANDEST GRATITUDE #1-FIRST POSITIVE NEW ORLEANS RETURN IN FIVE YEARS

As much as this is the one thing I'm most grateful for on this trip to the states; it is the most difficult to write. At the onset of disaster recovery, everyone said: "It will take at least five years." I thought that was for the City. I didn't think it would be for me too. I've learned a lot about myself on this recovery path that I'll share another time, but here are the things that made this my first positive return to New Orleans in five years:

First and foremost, was having Gaynell living on Columbus Street.  In all the years that Gaynell house sat for me while I traveled to France, I returned to a happy Dali and Sam (not forgetting Hazel, PJ, Bijou and Stinky who are no longer with us) and a Columbus Street that was always in better shape than when I left.  I was in France when the levees broke.  The reasons I didn't lose more were, that I tried to be prepared and Gaynell took such good care of getting everything in the best places for all eventualities. I wasn't sure what I would find this visit, but Gaynell had done everything she could to make it as much like home as possible for me.  She hung my social work license and my Tulane diploma up in what used to be the living room and put my old bedding on the bed along with my pillow from Mike and Drew (or Michel and André) that says: "My Other House is in France." I cried when I came through the door-but that spaghetti waiting for me made me smile. I'm so happy Gaynell is there, for a lot of reasons.  But, the bottom line is that it's good for both of us.  

I took my coffee out one of the mornings that Gaynell was in Baton Rouge and sat in the dark in these plastic Adirondack chairs.  I looked at my house and garden now, and just cried.  No matter how often my property manager told me:"think of it as a nice piece of rental property", or the mortgage company calls it "an investment property" when they refuse to refinance for me...Columbus Street was my home for almost 30 years.  I don't think I'll ever be able to think of Columbus Street in just those terms.  Renting the apartment and having Gaynell in the big house has worked out well.  I've sat in that back yard and screamed and cried tears of frustration.  I've sat in that back yard and screamed and cried tears of anger.  These tears were different-These were tears of sadness. This is the first time in five years I've been able to cry those necessary tears of sadness, to continue to work through the huge loss this has been in my life. I should know this, but it was easier to be angry than sad.

Thursday morning I headed over to Stew and Eric's to visit a bit.  I had errands to run on the bike and they lived on my way, so I called ahead to say I was coming. One of my main chores was to hit Home Depot for a few things for the house and Rouses for some things for the wine and cheese Friday night.  In no time, Stew threw me into their big navy blue Cadillac and we were off for a morning of shopping together and an afternoon of burgers and Bruno. On the way back to their house after unloading the groceries at mine, I was relaying my tears of sadness story to Stew.  He turned to me and said: "Laury, your house has served a purpose." I told him he was right, but then he went on: "Think about it Laury-it's still serving a purpose."

And so, I'm grateful for finding some peace in New Orleans and discovering a formula for successful visits! HUGE MERCI!

Gratitude #2-Special New Orleans Mornings

Mornings are my best time of the day no matter where in the world I am.  This trip to New Orleans, they were even more special because I was able to spend three of the five mornings with Gaynell and the other two on her bike rediscovering City Park.  Staying put on Columbus Street was important.  It gave me a chance to truly BE there and to enjoy some of the routines that gave form to my life when I lived in New Orleans.

Gaynell and I have been through a lot together. You can read more about her in the Storm Stories category.  There's a lot more to Gaynell's story that isn't mine to share.  She keeps telling me she's going to write it some day, and I hope she will.  The bottom line is that challenges continue to come in many forms for my friend.  In the face of HUGE CHALLENGE, she is always positive.  We sat around the kitchen table on Columbus Street together and shared flavored coffee. As soon as I got up at 4am or so, she'd come walking through the French Doors into the kitchen, and we'd figure out what the day was going to hold for the two of us and what we needed to coordinate.  We talked for hours on end.  Sometimes we'd even take our coffee out to our plastic Adirondack chairs in the yard.  Those three mornings were the best-sitting with my friend, feeling so loved, and basking in her huge smile that lit my heart.

I was able to bask in the glow on my other two mornings as well.  I took my usual route to City Park and saw the same people I used to see, doing the same things they were doing before the storm...some familiar walkers in the park, a woman I always saw riding her bike too, and a friend who bikes or speed walks with weights through the park every morning before work.  I stopped and told him how nice it was to see everyone out as I remembered and he said: "Here we are, all these years later, doing the same things we've always done...and you're living in France!" I cringed a little, but after I rode on it hit me-seeing everyone showed me that there are pieces to that life I loved in New Orleans that are still going on. My friend Thomas Wolfe would say: "You can't go home again.", but there was a moment there, when I felt comfort and home. After almost five years, it was a good thing.

 

Gratitude #3-Barn Book Fun With Mom and Dad

One of the main projects I wanted to finish before my departure to the states, was what I came to call "The Barn Book" for Mom and Dad. I shared my trip into Cahors with you when I purchased the special book. It did not disappoint.  It would have still been a hit totally empty, but instead, it held the story of the barn that I have shared with you here on the blog.  As you know, my Mom and Dad are unable to travel here, so finding a way to share the barn experience with them was important to all of "us". They found a little bit of everything...a letter from "us", posts, photos, journal excerpts, official paperwork, lyrics to Cette Mélodie, posts from Evelyn, music and words to Chez Laury, and even Keith's review of our blog. Needless to say, there was a lot there.  Mom said that she and Dad would look at it together when they had time.  (With all of us home on and off over a couple of weeks, it could get a little crazy.)  Once I got back from New Orleans, we had a little more time on our own.  Early in the week, Mom suggested that I read some of the pieces to her and Dad before I left. On my last morning we sat down together over breakfast in the living room.  I sat on the sofa by the light. They were both in their chairs; Dad with a tray that grabs onto the arm of his chair and Mom with her round brown tray that she rests in her lap.  I began by reading the letter that I had written to Mom and Dad from "us", and before I could get very far, my Dad says: "Let me guess...this isn't from just you-it's from all of you!" I smiled. He was exactly correct.  I finished the letter with a tear or two trying to escape and then chose a few posts that I thought they would enjoy...the day I found out the barn could be worth more sold for its stone, divining the barn, the day we were offered the barn for a very good price, being teased about being a "Land Baroness" and the day I decided to do the book to share with them to make the HUGEST MERCI that WE could make. We had fun.  It was more of that quality one on one time that is rare for us.  Mom said: "I think I understand more now what it means to you and how it fits with the Chatette." I knew that they would spend time reading it together after I left. I talked to them the other day and Mom told me she read Dad the piece that had Mike and Drew by the bikes from when they visited.  There were two names there that Mom didn't recognize.  I knew exactly what was puzzling her and explained: "Oh Mom, that's Michel and André...Mike and Drew when they are here in the Lot!" We laughed together, and I was grateful for the fun and sharing that began in St. Louis together and will continue as they read and enjoy.  I expect many more questions to pop up along the way.

You can find the posts and photos that I included in Mom and Dad's Barn Book in the category in the sidebar on the left entitled: "Barn of Our Heart".

Gratitutde #4-Special Time With Kat and Tom

I've shared many of my special times with Kat and Tom with you throughout my earlier gratitude entries, but they deserve an individual gratitude entry all their own.  From pink overalls and lamb shanks to Kat and I just being totally silly sisters together; it makes it difficult to say goodby.  I'd gone over to use their computer my last night before heading out, and we stood out in the driveway trying to say goodby.  After a few tries, Tom finally looked at both of us and said: "Say your goodbys now, I'm going in." Kat and I laughed, but we managed.  On the phone over the past weekend, I teased Kat that we might not even be this close if I lived there in St. Louis.  "Do you think we could manage the Galleria every weekend, with our stops at Anthropologie, Bath and Body Works, Chicos, L'Occitan and our soft pretzels and soft drinks on a bench in the mall? And then, I'd have to haul all the stuff I bought home to Mom and Dad's basement where I'd probably be living!" We laughed, but then she said..."You know, maybe we'd do it even more!" That was one of those comments that I heard, but didn't really register until after I got off the phone.  And the truth is...if I lived there again we would do it more! So, I'm grateful for all the wonderful times I spent on this trip with Kat and Tom and will leave you with a few more photos. Of course, Tom is the photographer behind most of these!