And I have a winner for the necklace- Amanda. Congratulation Amanda.
I wish I could send a necklace to each person who left a comment. I appreciate all of you. Linda

I’m writing this before something happens (the beginning of March). I won’t post it until it does. I’m hoping to send out some positive vibes out into the universe to bring about something that we want.
Let me start at the beginning. When I married Maurice he already had an apartment that he bought before we got together. I liked the apartment but was immediately struck by what I thought was wasted space in a long hall with rooms on either side.

The kitchen was really small and there were three small room with doors along the hall. Eventually we knocked out one wall to make a kitchen that opened into the living room. A couple of years later we knocked out one more wall to enlarge the size of the living room leaving us with one bedroom. If only we hadn’t done that.
To continue–I always hated the fact that we didn’t have an elevator to get up to our third floor apartment (fourth if your an American) especially when lugging up suitcases after a trip or heavy groceries. We tried to talk other apartment owners into putting in an elevator but didn’t succeed.

I looked at a couple of apartments for sale in our area but not very seriously. I half kiddingly asked an American friend who lives not too far from us if her apartment was for sale. She assured me that it would never be because she was sure her children would want it. Then, a year or so later when we had decided to just stay where we were, she called and said her children didn’t want the apartment because they didn’t want to pay the inheritance taxes, not to mention the monthly costs of keeping a place that is only used once or twice a year. So Maurice and I decided to put our apartment up for sale, sure it would go quickly. Then the bottom dropped out of the economy in the States and Europe. I think only one or two people looked at our apartment so we gave up and waited until the next year-this winter-to put it up for sale again using both a real estate agent and an ad in a sell it yourself type magazine/website. The economy was better and we had many lookers. We had someone give us a low bid which we turned down and we had one lady very interested but after looking at our place three different times, she decided against it.
What was wrong with our place? My guess: no elevator and only one bedroom. I think we could have sold it a dozen times if we hadn’t removed that last wall. Sigh.

One lady came to the door huffing and puffing and said, “There’s no elevator?” Our ad said that. Many people came and said, “Only one bedroom?” That’s is in the ad too. They didn’t like the courtyard, they didn’t like the cave, they didn’t like the view, they couldn’t see the sky without walking to the windows, they didn’t like the bathroom because the toilet isn’t in a separate little room, they said the electrical system was old fashioned, that electric heating was too expensive, that we weren’t near enough to Nation. One man called and asked Maurice if our apartment was ugly which really ticked Maurice off. Poor Maurice-he had to deal with just about everyone, especially on the phone. He got really tired of what he called tourists, people just sort of curious, not really serious in buying a place.

We had one man who loved our place and who said he was coming back to measure to see if his furniture would fit but he called the next day and said he was afraid the stairs would be bad for his weak knee. A divorced woman loved the apartment but when she brought her daughters to see if they liked it and they talked her out of it. One lady was interested but her friend who never saw the apartment said it would be too dark-even though since we knocked out those walls there are three windows and the light streams in. Another friend of a looker walked around with her arms crossed-always a negative sign-and had a look on her face that said: “What a dump”. Really, we were just about to give up and we had a less than a week before we returned to Provence for Easter with my son and his family. We love our apartment and we were saying it wouldn’t be a hardship if we stayed in it. Finally, a single man came and loved it and made an offer. Guess what day the offer was made?—My birthday! Isn’t that incredible? A wink from the universe or something. The man had seven days to back out of his offer but didn’t so it looks like everything is going to go through and that we will be moving either in June or the beginning of July. Our new apartment will be just steps away from Nation, the source of many metro and bus lines, it’s in a nicer building with a guardianne, on a lovely wide boulevard and, best of all, there is an elevator! I’m excited although I know the move is going to be a lot of work. I have a lot of things to go through and get rid of, especially clothing and books. So a big change is coming. I’m excited about it.

To celebrate my 9th year of blogging: You can win this necklace designed by my daughter in law, Liz, using two of my photos. Leave a comment and you are entered. The drawing will be done tomorrow.

Does anything look more beautiful and smell more fragrant at the same time as wysteria? I know there are roses, jasmine, honeysuckle and lavender but I think wysteria has more wow power-maybe because they last such a short time at the beginning of spring, just a brief couple of weeks, and because they can be so difficult to grow-it can be years before you see any blossoms. I know someone who had one for over twenty years and it only bloomed one time. In any case, I’m seeing them all over Provence right now, just breathtaking in their beauty.

This huge wysteria is in the center of a village called Pepin d’Aigues.

A closer view where you can see the fountain which sits underneath.

This one is in la Tour d’Aigues, running for feet along a rod iron fence.

Doesn’t it look gorgeous against that blue sky? I planted a wysteria last year and it didn’t do much of anything. I was told to cut it back, which I did, and I can see some buds so its getting ready to grow.

A trip to visit the Pont du Gard isn’t complete without stopping in nearby Arles. It’s a lovely city which was once sat on the sea but over the centuries lost that as their port filled up with silt from the Rhone River. The Romans made this their Provence capitol and it’s too bad more doesn’t remain from their time here but what there is is great.

It’s best known for the colleseum there. Bullfights are still held here, both Spanish and Provencal.

Some more ruins.

Two of my grandsons explored the colleseum and bought medallions sold there.

The area around Arles is known for its white horses and black cattle and all sorts of art related to both were sold in town.

During festivals there are wonderful costumes worn, especially the women, with long dresses, shawls and interesting head wear. These wall hangings give you an idea of what they look like. I went to the festival once and it was fabulous.

Don’t forget to sign up for my drawing celebrating 9 years of blogging!

You probably think I am in Paris if you go by my recent postings but in fact I have been in Provence since April 1st, celebrating Easter with my son and his family. While they were here we made a visit to the famous Pont du Gard, an aquaduct built by the Romans during their occupation of Provence to carry water. It is always breath-taking and probably the crown of all that is left by the Romans.

A closeup. No motar used. Somehow they cut and fitted all of these stones without it, stones that are each about the size of a car. Amazing.

An even closer shot.

I usually take photos from the other side of the river but we walked on the other side and I got a few different shots. It’s such a trip to think of Romans once living and building here in Provence. They were planning to stay for a long time.

They have two trees there, a gift from Spain, that are 1000 years old or so.

Don’t forget to leave a comment on my posting entitled Blog Anniversary Giveaway. I will do the drawing for the winner on April 30th, my 9th year of blogging.