Soar-Dream-France

The WHAT of "So what?"

 

Many of you may be wondering why in the world I began this blog post with this photo? Once again, it is my effort to try to push myself into hope that the results of our upcoming Presential Election in the states will save our democracy and that no violence will ensue. For those of you who are paying attention, and maybe even more for those who are NOT; a recently unsealed document by Special Counsel Jack Smith has served up even more information about what Trump was doing and saying on January 6, 2021. 

I know how bad it is and has been. I've known since 2015.  What about you?

Do you want to elect someone as President of the United States for a second time, who when told his then Vice-President Mike Pence was being rushed to a secure location for his safety from the rioting mob of insurrectionists, said: "So, what?"

Think about how many important, lethal, violent and dangerous things this man has said: "So what?" to. The list is endless. It brings tears to my eyes again and again.

This Former President has said "So what" to the whole country, to each and every one of us. He doesn't care about any of us and dismisses every single one of us. Is this the kind of man you want to be running our country and dismissing you and your life?

 

Think about it. Vote Blue!

 

Daddy's Girl Still

 

Being the immensely happy childless cat lady that I am, I often find myself being tremendously grateful that I don't have children (or a partner) when I listen to trials and tribulations of my friends everywhere.

I am a realist. I know that I would not have the life I've had, or have been able to do what I've done, if I'd had one or the other or both.

As fiercely independent as I am; I confess to still being a "Daddy's Girl" at 70. I am proud to be a Daddy's girl by choice. I've often said that my Dad set a very high bar for men in my life. When I watched him write "I love you, guess who?" in the snow to my Mom with his cane, or saw him leave little love notes in the kitchen cabinets for Mom to find; I think you can see that would be a hard act to follow.

 

Even so, Dad always encouraged me. He was the "yes" in my life. All I had to do was hear his voice and I knew I'd be okay.

 

Back in 2009, I had an opportunity to buy the barn, "our girl," behind the Chatette. I'd been loving her a long time. I'd divined her to come, et voila. Only thing was, I was dipping into what little was left of my retirement post Katrina to do it. I wanted to check it out with Mom and Dad. 

We sat around together on one of my stateside visits and talked about the barn. Of course, it wasn't the first time they'd heard about our girl. I didn't have to do a lot of persuading, especially for the great price of 8000 euros.

 

 

I knew the deal was sealed when Dad said: (semi-teasing-semi-serious) "And once you have the barn, everything will be perfect!"

 

 

And, you know the rest of the story.

 

The Barn joins us in wishing Dad the happiest of birthdays in heaven today. There's not a doubt in my mind, that he and Mom are proudly looking down on our girl and all the changes and improvements for us and the village we are a part of. 

 

Happy Birthday, Daddy

 

Then and Now: Our Lavoir Spot

Looking back and reacting to these old photos, big changes are the operative words.

Today: the train tracks are gone;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

the barn has a new roof; and,

 

 

the lavoir is on its way to huge makeover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As many of you already know, the shelter covering the lavoir in this photo is now totally gone. 

 

 

There won't be any of this going on any more!

 

Happy Monday!

 

So Many Lavoir Memories

 

With just finishing up a big birthday at the end of August, I continue to find that I am experiencing time differently.

As I've been watching the unfolding of the new lavoir project here in the village; there is a looking back in the looking forward to what the future may hold here in just this spot.

By the time the work of the moment was finished, I had over 700 photos, videos, and animations.

 

I made a USB key for both Christiane and Xavier.

 

 

Christiane asked me if I had a photo of the lavoir before the archway stone was removed.

That light bulb went off.

I had many, but where?

Truth be told, I have more than 22 years of lavoir photos that portray the lavoir's rich life way before this recent work began.

 

 

 

I had to go back and look. I found photos sprinkled throughout the years, but most fell after the Barn became part of our "we" in 2010. 

 

 

Part of the reason for that was having the barn brought me over to that side of the tracks more often AND, the barn brought along some parcels of land when she came to be with us.

Some of that land was right beside the lavoir.

I was driven to take care of it all the best I could!

It always felt like we belonged together no matter who owned the land.

 

Going back through all those photos took me places I hadn't been in a long time and to feelings I haven't felt in what feels like forever.

 

 

It's time to take a look back with our eyes to the future.

I hope you'll join me.

 

 

Happy Saturday!

 

As the Tournesol Turns!

 

It's Sunflower Sunday. Join me on a little journey back into how the tournesol turned in my life here in the Lot, since I bought the Chatette back in 2002.

These first shots are from 2008. The one on the right was one of my Mom's favorites. If you look close, there are even sunflowers on my dress. My pal, Joan took that shot. We had lots of fun that day, running through Monsieur Faret's sunflower fields in Saujac, directly across the river from me. 

 

For a while, I could count on sunflowers out my front windows every other year.

They were a rotation crop, mostly for oil I believe. And then, it stopped.

It meant you really had to go on the hunt.

 

 

It was kind of like the full moon out my window. It's just there. One day, the sunflowers would just be there. I miss them being easily in my life.

That's what made yesterday's sunflower field discovery between Tour de Faure and St. Martin Labouval so special. I'd been missing sunflowers. Then, I noticed these off the road on the left on the way to Jean-Luc's. I thought I might stop on the way home. I'm glad I did.

I ended up pulling over and stopping short enough that my grocery bag slid and fell. When I stopped at the corner of the field, the heads of the sunflowers were NOT looking at me. Maybe they were angry since it had been such a long time since I stopped for them. 

 

 

 

I scooped a few angry and ignoring shots and then thought I'd head to the other side and force them to look at me.

I got back in "Mikey," but we opted for an adventure instead.

 

 

 

It looked like the road would take us to the river and I could take that direction instead. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It began with sunflowers. We were joined by horses and lovers.

 

 

 

 

And, the valley provided a pastoral and gorgeous backdrop...

 

 

...to this amazing life in the Lot...

 

 

...in sunflowers.

Enjoy!

 

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Mom!

 

I didn't want to let today get away from me, without marking what would have been 93 years for Mom. This is one of my favorite pictures of Mom and I. I confess, it feels like a million years ago.

While she is with me here every day, she never made it here in the flesh, just in spirit. It's the same for Dad. But, That's okay! I'm sure they're up there celebrating together, talking about their good old days and telling all their stories.

We are a story-telling clan.

 

But, Mom did make it to Paris. Every time I see this shot of her in Montmartre on our '96 trip together, I feel like she's still waving at me today.

I'd like to reach out and give her the biggest kiss and birthday hug I could. She knows! 

So, Happy Happy Birthday in heaven today Mom.

We're still loving on you and hugging on you from France. Maybe it's time for a rousing round of Moon River.

Love you always, Mom.

 

 

The Last Time I Saw Columbus Street...

 

 

...I was closing the door to my home of 42+ years that was holding on to my childhood piano for me.

It was the last days of April, 2022.

 

 

 

I'd just spent six weeks in the states closing up Columbus Street so I could get it ready to put on the market to sell.

 

To this day, I still wonder how it happened.

 

 

Today, July 15, 2024, is the two year anniversary of the final act of sale on Columbus Street...July 15, 2022.

It's been a chock full two years, and without a return to the states.

I've been back and forth about a 2025 return, but I'm still not sure.

 

 

 

I've been in the middle of all this thinking, planning, and teasing my way through the shape of our world today.

It hit me that it would be my first return with NO Columbus Street.

It feels a little strange.

Kind of like after Katrina when my sister said to me:

"You don't have a home in America anymore."

Today, it's even truer than it was then.

 

 

But what a home I have!

 

 

As my tarot card reader Otis Biggs used to say: "You've found your place in the sun!"

 

 

It truly is heaven on earth!

 

We Thought They'd Never End

 

 

So much about here is paying attention and timing. Being in a valley, surrounded and hugged by so much nurturing nature; wows me constantly. This photo on this particular Sunday morning epitomizes it!

Jane called this morning so she came over and we had coffee together out on the terrace. I teased that it reminded me of "the good old days" of earlier times for all of us. On those days, Jane, Joan, Jean, Pauline and I, were often out in that same spot on my terrace as summer was beginning. What a way to start those summer and holiday days!

Happy Tuesday!

 

A Long Time in Coming

 

The progress here and getting back to my blogging are both a long time in coming. 2024 is 22 years of here for me, or as I like to say: "us," me and this place. The evolution and change are staggering. As of late, I have spent a lot of time looking back AND looking ahead. The richness of here is such a gift. I never had any doubt that this is where I wanted to be.

Once I sold Columbus Street in 2022, I was finally able to focus on this place and "us" 200%. Surprisingly, it wasn't as easy of a transition as I had always expected it to be.

 

 

 

In fact, I didn't expect there to be a transition at all. It's been "interesting," to say the least. For the first time in forever, I didn't feel torn between two places AND I actually had enough money to be able to do the things I wanted to do here and not to have to worry.

It was (and is) wonderful.

Even in all that "wonderful," I found myself: wandering around; feeling a little lost; and, not doing things that had been part of my routines.

 

Sometimes, I found myself not doing things that I always loved. Blogging was one. Playing piano regularly was another. Even walking and bike riding seemed like too much effort.

 

 

Now, I'm seeing all the pieces of the past, the now, the future, and how all those old pieces and new pieces fit for me and our "we" of here. 

 

 

Happy Monday!

 

Snail Lessons Learned

 

I've known ever since I bought the Chatette more than 20 years ago now, that I would have to do something about what I came to call the "addition." The addition had been separating from the Chatette even before I bought it.

 

It always looked to me like it had been slapped onto the house and didn't really fit.

 

 

Back in the early days of here, it was on my list of things that needed to be done, but was not at the top of the list. That was the list that began in 2002 and was thrown to the wind when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005. The former friend/contractor who was working for me here, was also working on Columbus Street after the storm.

 

 

To make a very long story short, he walked off the job in New Orleans in 2007. 

 

 

Every time I looked at the addition, I was reminded of being left high and dry, friendship betrayal, and almost financial ruin.

It hurt too much.

The projected plans for the addition were set aside.

Since then, I avoided dealing with the addition at all. I used it for storage only.

 

 

 

 

 

In the meantime, it separated more and the roof was beginning to cave in.

By the end of 2019, it was serious. It had separated further, the roof caved in more and the floor was destablized.

It was dangerous.

 

 

 

You may be wondering what took me so long: my Dad passed; COVID hit; and, Hurricane Ida hit New Orleans. Any money I'd set aside for this from Mom and Dad, had gone to cover roof damage on Columbus Street during Ida and to paint Columbus Street. It took me finally selling Columbus Street during July of 2022, to have enough money to make these decisions and do some other work around here.

 

When the demolition began on Tuesday, I was a little weird.

 

 

It was such a long time in coming.

I knew the barn would be more visible.

But, there was no way to know just how truly "opened up" we would become.

By going back, we were going forward.

I was also letting go of the negative energy that swirled around this brick and mortar.

 

 

I was elated.

I knew we had done just the right thing.

I had paid attention to the communication with "our" place.

When I'm still in the silence, I listen and the stone speaks.

I've learned that even in the most heart wrenching and breaking times, the soul and magic of the centuries of this place never let me down.

 

 

Patience is required.