peas

Ria is skipping around the house eating peas I bought from the market and singing an ode to peas. Most of the ode's lines are, "Who could not like peas?"

food

Now that Thom's gone, I'm making more all-vegetarian meals. In fact, that's all I am making. And I am much happier eating no meat. I've also determined that, in all honesty, I prefer Italian food to French, by far. It's a good thing I can cook whatever country's food I feel like cooking, although I can't find peanut butter here, so Indonesian is out.

from Thom

Thom emailed from his hotel in Amsterdam this morning, saying "All is well here. Flight went well. I took the train to Amsterdam, which I can describe as another large, somewhat dirty city. The hotel is very efficient and a bit weird. It is about a 4 minute walk to the airport from the Citizen M hotel."

Ria's day

A&B took Ria to the flower festival, where there was a drawing competition for children. Ria entered it, and drew this lovely picture:














She was entered into the 6-8 year old contest, and to A&B's delight and pride, she won! She was awarded a large prize, including a package of art supplies and a book and CD of stories in French about a violinist. We are incredibly proud of her. Here she is with the prize package:


















And here are several pictures of the festival which Annabelle took:

Saturday - Thom's last day

Saturday morning Thom and I packed up all the gifts to take home, and the few things of his that were returning to the states (and aren't destined for a French dumpster). With that done, we all headed to a local abbey for an exhibit of tapestries made by a local couple who have a son in Ria's school. We loved the tapestries, and hope to buy one or two for our new house. Here's a picture of Ria sitting on one of them, making drawings of several others. The attendant at the gallery was a wonderful woman, delightful to chat with, and encouraging of Ria's artistic pursuits in the corner.

After a big family lunch on the picnic table outside, we drove Ria, Annabelle and Benjamin up to Venasque for the village's annual Fete des Fleurs. Venasque has been awarded two flowers for prettiest village (I assume out of three, although I don't know), and it has an annual flower festival each year to celebrate. Ria, A&B spent the day there while I drove Thom to the airport in Marseille.

The drive was boring, the airport in a blighted industrial area, and in need of updating. But Thom's check-in was uneventful, and I left him there and headed home, following the directions of our beloved GPS system Tom-Tom. Did I mention that it stopped working right outside of where we picked it up? Yes? And did I mention that we stopped at a Renault dealer in Annecy to see if it could be fixed? No? Well, we did, and the service man looked at it, did all the same things we had done to troubleshoot, and then turned on the radio, which fixed it. Turning off the radio didn't re-break it. Mysterious. Anyway, it has been working well ever since, and we adore it.

When I was almost home, the low-fuel alarm went off, so I asked Tom-Tom to find a gas station for me. It took me to a village that was also having a Fete des Fleurs, so all the streets were blocked off. Tom-Tom just kept finding new routes for me as I missed the turns she urged me to take, and eventually got me to a gas station, which was all torn up and under construction. By this time, my estimated range left had gone from 28 km to -- km, which is hardly reassuring. Tom-Tom found me another station, a nice young man pumped my gas (all 65 euros worth), and off I went, merrily back home.

Vaucluse 3

From the Bories, we drove into Gordes, a town filled with the prehistoric walls made in the fashion of the Bories. This town, we decided, should be called Wall.

Gordes is perhaps the prettiest of the perched villages we've seen, and we walked along a public footpath toward the centre ville, until it started raining. Ria and I will have to come back here and explore.

Vaucluse 2

Then we headed to the next town, Gordes, and on the way we saw a number of prehistoric structures called Bories. We stopped and looked at the intricate structures, made only of flat rocks carefully fitted together with no mortar or even smaller rocks in the chinks. Whole large villages are constructed this way, and modern houses have been made in and amongst them, in some cases actually attached to the prehistoric bories and making use of them today.

Vaucluse

After lunch with A&B, we headed out to show them this beautiful part of France, and area they haven't been lucky enough to see yet. We followed our road, the Route du Murs, up to the Col du Murs. (Col means peak.) We were expecting a view from the top, but it was too forested to see much. Still, the drive up was beautiful, through what passes for wilderness in France. It is rugged and dry, and steep and rocky.

Murs is a town, and its name means "wall." There was nothing about the town, pretty as it was, that suggested that it should be called Wall. At the crest of the town is a castle, and just outside are beautiful green fields which made a nice background for photos of Ria and the town.

Friday - house guests!

After dropping Ria off at school, Thom and I drove to the Avignon TGV station to pick up Annabelle and Benjamin, who came in from Paris. The train station is gorgeous!

We came home, and A&B were tired from having stayed up late and gotten up early, so they fell asleep while unpacking, and Thom and I fetched Ria from school while they slept.

Wednesday in Avignon

Wednesdays are only a half day of school in France, and at Ria's school a much smaller group of children comes on Wednesdays, so we kept Ria out of school today, and spent the day in Avignon. Thom wanted more time with Ria before he went back home for a month.

We started by shopping at a large mall, buying spring clothes for Ria. The sizes here run very small compared to in the U.S., and Ria fits in clothes tagged for 8 to 10 year olds. They're too wide for her at that size, but they fit her length.

Then we headed into the old town and got a delicious lunch at a cafe with an outside seating area. Of course, all the cafes spread out onto the sidewalk when the weather is decent. It amazes us how Europe makes such incredible use of all spaces, regardless of their size and qualities. Everything is squeezed in, spaces have multiple uses, and cars fit into spaces that appear considerably smaller than the car. It's both claustrophobic and impressively efficient.

We next took her violin to a luthier, as her D string had snapped. Chez le luthier was a beautiful space -- I am kicking myself for not photographing it -- with one wall of glass facing a plant-filled courtyard, and the rest of the space taken up by instruments and parts. It was so peaceful and pretty there. The rest of Avignon is crowded and a challenge to negotiate, now that we're used to the peace and wide-open spaces of Provence. We adapted to the extra space, after Paris, quite quickly.

In Paris we were walking down a very wide sidewalk along a major sidewalk and came to a street that had been closed to traffic. This created a parking opportunity, between the blockade and the major street it was perpendicular to. So two cars backed themselves into the spot, leaving only a tiny passageway for pedestrians, between the cars and the buildings adjacent to the sidewalk. This space was the spot a woman chose to have a long argument on her cell phone, waving her arms around furiously and paying zero attention to the people trying to squeeze through. She had to be shoved out of the way, and in typical French fashion, didn't seem to notice or care. There is something odd about their sense of personal space (almost none) and their comfort being touched (or shoved) by strangers. It's not something I can easily adapt to. I didn't like it in New York, either. I guess that's part of why I ended up out west.

settled in

Our lives are pretty well settled now. Thom walks up the hill to Venasque in the morning, and buys freshly baked bread, croissants, and pain au chocolate in the morning. We have breakfast together, and head to Ria's school together. At home, I work while Thom putters about in the house, washing dishes, doing laundry, reading. After Thom and I share lunch, we get Ria, and spend the afternoon together. Usually around five or six Thom goes running, and just as he gets back a thunderstorm rolls in, bringing lightening and thunder but not much rain. Then dinner, shared stories, and bed. Some days we go to the local market (there is one on Monday in Mazan, the town where Ria's school is, and another on Friday in Carpentras, the main town near here).

Tuesday, though, was a special day. It was Apple's birthday, her 12th (despite the fact that she is Ria's daughter -- in the land of makebelieve, a daughter can be older than her mother). Ria has been planning this since we were in Paris, and had assigned to me and Thom the job of purchasing gifts and making a cake. The kitchen here isn't really set up for baking, and the bakeries here are incredible, so after we picked Ria up from school, we took her to the bakery and let her pick out a chocolate cake. We bought a few small gifts for Apple (things we thought Ria might actually like, too) and wrapped them up in pretty blue paper. Ria set up the party in the salon, and we all ate cake.

Sunday, a day of rest

We spent the whole day Sunday at the house, playing with Ria mostly. We walked up to the little town above us, Venasque, which Ria had not yet been to. Here are a couple of pictures of Ria, one with her trying to get Mama Giraffe out of a tree where she was stuck, and another of her showing a rosemary bush to Mama Giraffe, smelling the rosemary. I've also attached a couple of photos of the local church, for Tuck's benefit mostly. As you approach the town from the valley below, the town covers the crest of a long peak and the church appears like the mast on a prow. It's quite dramatic. I'll have to get a photo from below, to show you how beautifully sited the town is.

Avignon

We spent the day in Avignon today, starting at the flower (and vegetable) market, where we bought flowers for Ria to plant, and veggies for me to cook. We wandered around, saw beautiful buildings, and had lunch: ravioli for Ria, chicken filet for Thom, and steak tartare for me. Then we went to the kitchen store to deal with the inevitable problems one finds in a rental vacation house: knives as dull as fingernails, pans of minimal quality, and a lack of specialty items. My weight limit is going to be severely compromised by the lovely steel pan we bought, but my cooking will benefit immensely!

our house

Gary and Marilyn asked for more pictures and information about our house, and the way that buildings are constructed in Provence, so here are photos and the description I emailed them.

The buildings here are built almost exclusively of stone, which just wouldn't survive in earthquake country. It makes them very stable in temperature -- cool no matter what's happening outside. The walls are very thick, so looking out the windows is a little like looking through a tunnel. The floors are tile, never carpeted, only occasionally wood. The interior walls are stucco, often painted in warm colors. It's a very different style of building than in the United States, and there aren't a lot of right angles. There is absolutely no siding anywhere, and I haven't seen any wood buildings either. In the cities the big buildings are the same steel and glass as the U.S., but the smaller buildings are still stone.

On another note, although the news is all about how Iceland's volcanic ash is disrupting flights and closing airports all over Europe, including all of France, we can't see any evidence of the ash here. It must be much higher in the atmosphere than we can see. We are so thankful that we made it across the Atlantic before the big plume messed everything up, and are hoping that Thom's flight home is not delayed next week.

Day Two

Ria's second day in school went as well as the first, although only she and Leo were there in the morning, and Leo left just after lunch, so Ria was the only child in the afternoon, playing with Jonah the whole time. She found a chicken egg, which delighted her, and climbed trees (forbidden at her Waldorf school in the States), which similarly delighted her.

She told me after the first day that I picked the right place for her. Although all the teachers are terrified that she'll have awful separation anxiety and will be distressed if she stays there from 9 until 3, Ria is very happy there and has no problem staying that long. She is happy that there are children to play with, attentive teachers, roosters and hens to play with, art supplies to use, and a great outdoor space to play in. Thom and I are very happy knowing that she's so happy, and not at all stressed by being in a new place and not knowing the language. She has a good ear, and a good accent, and a good memory, so I think that she will be speaking basic French before long. She is also eating new foods, as they provide lunch, and that's a good thing too.

After Thom and I picked her up, we drove up Mount Ventoux, a historically important mountain in the Tour de France, and a beautiful place besides. I've mentioned, I believe, that we've got a good view of Mt. Ventoux from the toilet in our second-floor bathroom. It was snow covered, and the road to the top closed, when we last came here in March 2007. And alas, it was snow-covered and the road to the top was closed today too.

In the car, Ria asked me what "cuckoo" means, and I said, "crazy." This puzzled her, because at the local school, whenever someone knocks on the door, they all say, "Cuckoo!" I explained the other meanings of the word.

This reminded me that when we arrived at Katrin's apartment building in Bern, I rang the doorbell to her apartment, which (it turns out) is on the fourth and top floor. Katrin opened her window, popped her head out, and said, "Cuckoo!" looking for all the world like a cuckoo clock -- in Switzerland! How appropriate!

In the evening I cooked from Julia Child: boeuf aux onions, a long simmering beef stew with onions. It was surprisingly good. Ria started watching the Lion King in French while we did the dishes.

Venasque

While Ria was in school, Thom and I walked the twenty minutes up hill, and through glorious Provencal countryside, to Venasque, our little village. It is a walled village perched on a hilltop with grand views of the surrounding landscape of cherry orchards in bloom, grape vines still appearing to be dormant, stone houses and barns, and other fields and trees. The streets are narrow, a fountain marks the center of town, and the bakery is run by a woman so kind and happy it must be the warmest place in town.

At the square in front of the castle we saw an American father playing catch with his two very young sons, five and three I'd guess. The five-year-old kept yelling "I'm open! Over here!" to his father, apparently not understanding that, in baseball, that's not really relevant. I bought stamps at La Poste, so perhaps now we can actually mail some of the post cards we have purchased. It's amazing, really, that I can pay about one dollar to a tiny village in France and they'll see to it that a card I've written is hand-delivered to someone in Bellingham.

Ria's first day in school

We've registered Ria at the local Waldorf preschool, which goes up to age seven. It's quite nearby, about a ten-minute drive. We took Ria to school Thursday morning, and the school was almost empty. Because the other schools are still on Easter vacation until Monday, many families are still traveling, and very few children were there.

When we got there, only the caretaker for the much younger children was there, with three little kids. Ria immediately felt comfortable, taking off her shoes and putting on her slippers, as she does at the Waldorf school at home. She first headed to the seasonal nature table, and straightened up the pieces on it, gently chiding a small boy who tried to moved them around, instructing him that that's not allowed. Then she started a drawing of an underwater scene using the same German crayons she is used to, and sharing them with a tiny little girl who was very sweet to Ria.

Ria's teacher, Helene, arrived shortly after we did, and welcomed Ria to the classroom for the older children. Thom and I chose to leave then, and this was the only time we saw any hesitation in Ria -- she had a moment where her face showed that she was worried about us leaving, but she bucked up, gave us a hug and kiss good-bye, and went back to her drawing.

We had planned to fetch her at three, but couldn't wait to see how her day went, so arrived at 1:30. She was a little dismayed that we were taking her away before the day was over, but was happy to show us around ... the toy garden, the roosters, the swings, the hammock. Helene told us that there had been three children total, and three teachers -- Helene (who speaks almost no English at all), Isabella (who speaks reasonably good English), and Jonas (a German student-teacher volunteer, who speaks very good English). Helene seemed very concerned that Ria would be at the school for too long each day, what with it being a new school, a new group, and a new language. But Ria left a bit unwillingly, which is a great sign.

In the car she chattered away about the two other children, Leo and Michel (who mostly followed her and Leo around and watched them play), and complained that it "wasn't very Waldorfy" because they have pretend swords the boys played with, and because they didn't make Ria wear a sweater or a coat when she went outside. She ate the organic lunch they provided (couscous with vegetables, and a vegetable pie) and apparently liked it. Overall, it was a successful day, and she spent the evening practicing the new French words she learned.

chez nous

From Annecy, we kept going south, arriving in Provence, and at our rental home, in the early afternoon. Below are photos. It's nicer than we'd expected, huge and comfortable, and everything works. Except the kitchen knives. Thom and I were joking that they could be used as props in a play put on by children. Who were blind. And had sensitive skin. We're on a mission to find good knives this weekend. There are markets galore in the area, and even the supermarket in Carpentras is very good, with a tremendous meat and fish selection, and a decent produce section.

The house has three floors. On the main floor are the kitchen, dining room, salon (living room), and full bath with laundry, tub, and shower. On the middle floor are three bedrooms and a full bath, with shower (and a perfectly framed view of Mt. Ventoux from the toilet). Ria has a room with a double bed to sleep in, and a room with two single beds for her playroom. Thom and I have a lovely master bedroom at the far end of a twisty hallway. There is also a balcony with a spectacular view of the mountains, the valley, our garden, and our pool (still way too cold to swim in). On the top floor is an office and a fourth bedroom. Spiral stairs connect the floors, and the tile floors are heated. Canadians owned it previously, which is probably why it is so well lit. One of our major complaints about European houses is that they're so dim and ill-lit. This one is marvelously bright inside.