This a a photo of the exterior of the gite where we stayed. Love the ivy.
April 10, 2005
Last night we went to a jazz show in the little village of La Tour d’Aigues, not far from where we live. The leader of the jazz group, and clarinet player, was a neighbor of ours just up the road, an owner of a gite. Maurice and I, along with my sister and her sister in law had stayed at the gite once when our house was still being built. It is a wonderful building, a couple of hundred years old with thick stone walls and antiques everywhere. It wasn’t the cleanest place I’ve ever been, but I loved the feel of it. I was really surprised at the professional level of the band. If I closed my eyes, I could have been in a club somewhere in the States, even New Orleans. Mostly the band plays New Orleans type jazz but last night they had a fabulous older guy, a professor of music, who played a few tunes at the piano and the music went into what I call smooth jazz. It was a great evening. We did get to bed until 2 AM. We have found, the longer we are here, the more we enjoy it and alot of that has to do with the people we are making friends with and the happenings we attend.
Saturday, April 9th, 2005
For those of you who come to my site on a regular basis, I’m sure you have noticed that it looks entirely new. I’ve been doing an on-line journal since 2001-hard to believe-and I guess you could call it a blog but I’ve decided to set up the site as a true blog and my son, Jason, is helping me. Excuse the disorder while I am trying to figure out how to do it all.
For those new to my site, I moved to Paris in 2001 having married a Frenchman with zero knowledge of the French language or the French in general, which is how I came up with the title, Frenchless In France. Four years later, and my French is still horrible, much to my shame, but I love my life here and all that France has to offer. Maurice and I have also built a house in Provence and, when I am there, I post about my experiences there. If you click on photo journal on the right you can get a look at what we did in Provence, as well as earlier entries in my journal.
I am writing this today in Provence. I am sitting at a desk I brought with me from the States and if I look to my left I can see a fabulous view which the back of our house faces. We are in a fairly isolated area and I can often hear an approaching car or truck headed for our house long before it arrives here. At night I can see the moving headlights of cars on a hill about ten miles away. Spring is having a tough time arriving here. It is coming in like a lion, as they say We had rain all day yesterday and, although the skies are now blue and the sun is out, there is a nasty wind out there to make the freezing temperatures feel even lower. The Mistral, as the wind is called, is the one thing I don’t like about living in Provence.
The Pople has died, as most of the world knows, and I have found it is a much larger issue here in Europe than it was in the States. There was almost full time coverage on the news right before he died and, of course, when he did. The funeral was shown on every tv station from beginning to end. Maurice and I went to Notre Dame when a mass was done for his soul the day after his death. We couldn’t even get near the cathedral. The huge area in front was packed with people. There was a huge screen set up outside so that the mass inside the cathedral could be seen. Everyone seems very moved by his death. He did do alot of work trying to bring peace between countries.