Soar-Dream-France

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.

 

Truth, Justice and the American Way

 

 

This morning, I had the laptop on because I was going to be facetiming with my brother Jim who lives in California.

We always schedule.

You see, there is a 9 hour time difference.

His 9pm call in California on a Monday night is a 6am call for me on my Tuesday morning.

 

It works for us.

 

 

 

After we finished, I decided to leave the laptop on.

I knew I had some projects to do AND I've begun a "French with Fred" course.

I am doing it daily.

I can work at my own pace.

It's definitely part of everything being more France for me, and improving my French is important to me in the

 

NOW!

 

 

 

In the meantime, I was looking for some photos and stumbled on these. The before the fire shots always grab my heart. These were taken during the few months I was able to be here during 2016. Sammie cat stayed with Mike and John. I continued on, but ended up looking from that point in 2016 forward and into 2017. I stopped way before the fire, but Sammie Cat and I were here together permanently by then.

 

Seven years later, it sometimes seems like yesterday and other times a million years ago.

So much struck me.

First, we all looked so happy in earlier 2016. Little did we know that our whole way of life would be upended in the next election. That election continues to define all of our lives, and the world, to this day. I looked back, feeling the feelings I felt from then through the photos.

 

 

During those times: I was taking care of taking my social security early; I took my road trip through the south eastern quadrant of the US seeing people who are important to me; I returned New Orleans to be on time to serve as the foreperson for a very important trial; it was important to me to go to DC for the Women's March in January; and by May, I was ready to be full time in France.

 

I knew I needed to sort out my life in Cadrieu from France, as BREXIT was unfolding. 

 

Secondly, the loss. It began with Mom, and continued on: losing Sam in the fire; stateside friends and friends from here over time; Dad the first of 2020; COVID; and then, selling Columbus Street and Mike's departure a year ago this month.

Last, but certainly not least, was the realization that I had lived life by a set of core values and beliefs that:

 

 

all people are basically good;

truth prevails; and, 

in striving for justice for all.

 

Long before scrolling through these photos, I knew I no longer believed.

 

 

 

This ultimate loss took hold in 2016.

 

 

It doesn't mean I've given up. It doesn't mean I don't care. I have always been someone who walks the walk. I just don't know what to do anymore.

 

 

Where is Superman when we need him?

 

Or Wonder Woman as the case may be?!?

WE NEED THEM BOTH and MORE!

 

 

This Melody-Cette Melodie

 

When all my goodies arrived last week, I asked everyone to guess what was the first song I played? I'd given it all a lot of thought. Afterall it has been almost six years with no music here besides me and my Monsieur. So many memories and feelings are tied up in our music. I could go on and on, and I might at some point, but today it's Julien Clerc and This Melody that have center stage. They were my first choice for our new music in our New Book of here...the second twenty years!

 

During 2010, I was in the process of buying the barn. I wrote about the barn here on the blog regularly. I still do today. At the time, it made no money sense, but made all the love, passion, romance and immortal magic sense in the world to me. The barn and this place speak to me.

 

 

One of my friends, Jennifer Borel, sent me the email above and attached this song. It was such a great gift. I loved it so much that I made this collage to include in the "Barn Book," that I'd made for my Mom and Dad. They were never able to make it here in the flesh. Their barn book has since returned to me. They visit in spirit regularly.

 

 

This song makes me happy. It makes me think of all of the life, love and living that I have crammed into this place of my heart. I am loved back. I'd often sing it to the barn. I'll put a YouTube selection for you in the FB post.

 

 

 

We are back.

 

 

 

We are Cette Melodie!

 

The Bibs Professor and Bride Return

 

There are so many things that stir the memories. I knew Niels and Bodil were planning to come in September, but we hadn't finalized it all. They had both been during the late summer of 2012. Here we were talking arrangements for 2023.

 

 

When I was confirming that the bus was the bus to Cadrieu, Niels wrote: "I still remember catching the bus in the early morning when we were leaving the last time!" I wrote back:

 

 

"Isn't it great we have so many wonderful memories to share?"

 

Niels and I became friends through our blogs. Both overalls enthusiasts, we had a lot in common. He and some other "enthusiasts" began International Overalls Day that was celebrated at the  end of November 2009 for the first time. It eventually grew to International Overalls Weekend.

My village still talks about our first overalls celebration here that November of 2009.

 

 

Niels and I became fast friends. Once he and Bodil came here in 2012, we became a trio and even faster friends.

They even came to New Orleans to celebrate my first New Orleans International Overalls Day.

 

Having that International Overalls Party on Columbus Street was a big deal for me.  Almost everyone wore their overalls. It was a chance for me to make new friends and reconnect with the old. I remember telling John that having that party made it feel like Columbus Street was being reborn after the storm. It was important.

 

 

 

 

 

Now, with the return of Niels and Bodil, I am having similar feelings about the Chatette. Each visit made by friends and family, brings new life and more magic that we've so needed to be able to feel again since the fire and the pandemic.

 

 

 

We are coming back around.

 

Decisions

 

When I first came back to the Chatette and Cadrieu during March of 2018 after Christmas of 2017; I was still living in the apartment in Cajarc while the repairs were being made after the November fire.

I would ride my bike back to the house and wander around to see what was what.

Was there anything I could do?

It was projected that I could be back "home" at the end of April, probably at least a month away.

 

 

There was so much...so many feelings, so much to decide, so much to miss...of which, Sam was the biggest.

 

 

My piano was important to me. It was under plastic. I had been told by one person it was "dead" and another who came from Cahors wanted 10,000 euros to repair it for me. While I was in the states, I connected with Philippe Jolly who told me we should be able to do something together once I  got back and they were in the valley as well. My Monsieur was his baby too.

I told Eric what I was up to.

 

Eric was Eric. I told him how sad my Monsieur Winkelmann was, as were most things. I told him that we were "empty," except for me and my Monsieur. I'd already sat on the front stoop with my empty house behind me and felt that even as is; it was enough for me.

Eric said: "all you really need is your piano, a chair, a coffee pot and a place to sleep."

We were off!

 

 

In that "so much," I'd decided that : the windows were works of art bare; I had my Monsieur and didn't need a stereo system; the walls and the stone were works of art on their own; and, that I didn't want to clutter us up. 

 

 

After Katrina, I remember riding in the car with my friend Barbara.

We were on our way to the Napoleon House because it had opened. I got the first post-Katrina Reuben Sandwich they sold.

 

I told Barbara: "you could look me in the eye and tell me that I was missing a leg, and I would look back at you and say: oh really, that's nice. I'll think about it another time!

 

I recently realized when I was reading about grief, that the best thing that you can do for the people you love who are grieving is to just do something nice for them on your own initiative. Don't ask. Grief is not made for decision making. Asking our friends what we can do for them, or telling them to let us know, is one more thing that they probably just can't think about.

A huge light went off for me.

 

Lately, I've made some big (or maybe just different) decisions. As I've been: buying my new stereo system; picking out some "replacement and new" CDs; and, choosing special curtains for all of the windows in the house; I was asking myself why now?

 

At that time, it was easier to decide to do nothing...I didn't need a new stereo. I didn't need new curtains on the windows. I didn't need to replace all my CDs that went up in smoke. Call it triaging. Call it self preservation. I just couldn't think about it at the time. 

It's almost six years later.

 

 

 

 

Apparently, we're ready now.

 

 

Feeling the Wandering

 

 

What do you do when you know you're not yourself, but you aren't really sure what you are?

I've known that I've been wandering through my life for the years since the fire.

 

 

I accepted it. I rolled with the lack of energy and immobilization at times. I didn't like it, but I knew that: losing Mom in 2016; the fire and losing Sam in 2017; BREXIT; losing Dad on New Year's Day of 2020; COVID on the heals of that loss; selling Columbus Street; and, I knew I had to roll with it all the best I could and certainly NOT beat myself up for anything I felt and did or didn't do.

 

 

Often, clarity comes for me in hindsight.  

Interestingly, getting "us" empty of all the useless stuff left over from the early days in the addition, the useless stuff on the terrace and the vernissage cave, cartons, and boxes; gave me new perspective.

 

 

 

It isn't always easy to get things done over here. I expected to just have yet one more dumpster in my life and I would slowly get it all out. I did some research. Asked for some help. And, Christiane found me Monsieur Julien Lascout, who would do it all for me.

Turns out, he didn't need a dumpster and finished everything I'd asked for and more between 10am and 16:00.

 

As I prepared for yesterday last week and then saw yesterday's results; I realized how it wasn't just the memories and losses that were weighing me down, it was the stuff.

 

 

As yesterday went on, I felt like I was back.

When Julien finished, we sat out on the terrace and had a coffee together.

I told him he gave me back my life!

 

 

 

We are moving forward!

 

The Tracks of Trains

 

 

I really seem to be feeling my way with my life here these days.

I am more focused on: me; our life here; France; French; and, being as in the moment as possible, while still honoring the memories and looking forward to the future!

It can be a challenge.

At one point I wrote about feeling the "gones."

Today, I found myself feeling the "stills."

I'm finding strength in letting go and in the power we cannot see!

 

Hmmm, there is a metaphor to be found in the tracks of trains. More specifically, these tracks of trains that at times felt like mine.

 

 

Happy Saturday!

 

Me and Thomas Wolfe

 

Back when Dali, Sammie Cat and I came here to clear our heads after Hurricane Katrina so I could make some difficult decisions; I read Thomas Wolfe's "Look Homeward Angel" for the very first time. The meaning of "home" had escaped me living in my flood ravaged house on Columbus Street.

 

 

 

 

 

My Dad said:

"Go to France, Laury."

 

We did.

 

I still struggled with home.

By Christmas of 2006 the decision had been made.

I was in France. Columbus Street was being repaired so I could rent it out and be able to live here in Cadrieu with my Dali Dog and Sammie Cat.

Of course, it wasn't that easy.

As I was reading Thomas Wolfe, he spoke to me.

Fogs cleared. I didn't struggle so much.

 

 

But when I did, I'd found something wonderful that helped me. I won't make you look for it yourself. I'll put Wolfe's last page, last paragraph, right here for you:

 

--Yet, as he stood for the last time by the angels of his father's porch, it seemed as if the Square already were far and lost; or I should say, he was like a man who stands upon a hill above the town he has left, yet does not say "The town is near," but turns his eyes upon the distant soaring ranges.--

THE END

 

When I did struggle, I'd often picture myself upon a high place above a place I'd just left; holding Thomas Wolfe's hand.

Visualizing was usually enough.

But when it wasn't, I had more than enough high, beautiful places to go.

 

 

High or low, holding Thomas's hand or not; the Lot always brought me home.

 

Begin Again

 

 

This is a post to say that I am trying to feel my way with how I want the blog to fit into what truly does feel like a new and different life for me. All of this change has been on the wind.

If I'm totally honest, my first twenty years of here were more about working towards and building to this second twenty years than I ever could have known.

 

 

It is the new book.

 

 

I've made a couple of changes here that are small but feel huge. Huge in the difference that often screams at me.

I am not changing SOAR-DREAM-FRANCE. Doing that rearranges too much with the blog from prior to now. I have, however, removed "Melange-ing France New Orleans Magic," and changed the subtitle to: "Lot River Love Song-The Next Twenty Years!"

I expect these years and this new book to be more here and less the states. It means more France and French.

It means moving forward in this adventure in ways that were just not possible before.

Both of my feet are planted here.

 

 

 

I am even more deliberately putting one foot in front of the other, petit a petit. My feet are where my head and heart have always been, here.

 

 

I am centered, focused, and closely paying attention to the "lots in the Lot!" I am also feeling a senses of freedom, wonder, excitement and some awe, that I'm not totally sure how to put into words at the moment!

 

 

I'm planning on letting go to enjoy this ride of these next twenty years, and marvel at every step along the way. I'm not really sure where it will take me. I'm hoping you'll come along.

 

Bonne Maman Advent Calendar JOY

 

We are no strangers to Advent Calendars in my family.

Last year, I went a little crazy with them for family and some special friends. Here in France, I treated myself and my neighbors to a Foie Gras Advent Calendar and my friend Christiane to the Thiriet Ice Cream Advent Calendar.

Stateside, it was all Bonne Maman.

 

 

This year I decided to get myself the Bonne Maman Advent Calendar, along with the others I was planning to have sent for gifts.

 

Pretty soon, I realized that since none of my family will be together during the holidays that it might bring us all together if everyone had their own Bonne Maman Advent Calendar. Far be it from me to tell anyone how to do it, but there clearly is a right way and a wrong way. Patience is essential.

Everyone has theirs. Some of us are looking forward to getting started tomorrow. Others have jumped the gun...possibly peeking and partaking. For me, it was fun to think about all of us participating in some remotely parallel activity every day leading up to Christmas.

 

Togetherness at a distance!

I'm guessing there will be more Bonne Maman Stories to share. 

 

 

Happy Advent Calendar Eve!

Happy Wednesday!