Low Key Monday

Aude on a grey day

Mondays here are almost as quiet as Sundays.  Many businesses are closed for the day.  After all, they were open on Saturday, and they'd like two days in a row to recover.  We've been told to never buy fish on Mondays, as there are no deliveries.  Fishermen take Sundays off.

I have been reading a little more about Saint Vincent, who met his gruesome end by being pressed to death; thus the connection to the grape press.  Sunday's La Depeche contained photos of a wine press being used at Saturday's festival.  I missed that--there were too many people blocking the view, I guess.  Honestly, once I got my glass of wine, I headed home.  After all, it WAS lunch time.

La Cite stands watch

Apparently simply crushing Saint Vincent to death didn't satisfy the prosecutor Dacien.  He ordered the body be thrown out for all to see and for the animals to eat.  Well, a crow protected his body, so the story goes.  We certainly have never lacked for imagination in inflicting pain and humiliation upon our own kind, have we?  

Yesterday's church service was okay--Jean-Pierre took the last hymn our of order and that threw me for a loop.  When did I become so easily rattled?  I had practiced those hymns, but nobody could have told that from the way I played, or rather, mis-played them. Members of the congregation still came up and thanked me for being there.  It's really humbling; I know how BADLY I play.  I tell you, I think it's karma coming around for all the negative thoughts directed toward organists who can't play.  The shoe's on the other foot, now.

Notre Dame de la Sante window...reminds me of carrots

The forecast called for sun yesterday--they got that wrong.  And grey today--they got that right.  As soon as my dishwasher finishes its cycle, I am headed out for a walk, and maybe a warm-up.  Although it's grey, I think it's not as cold outside as it is here in my apartment.  After a nice walk, warmed up leftover chili is going to taste mighty fine!