May Day and Muget

White coral bells upon a slender stalk

First, I have learned that it's pronounced "moo-gay," and it's made an appearance in both the open-air markets and supermarkets alike.  There was even an article about it in La Depeche, talking about possible shortages of it due to wet weather.

Lily of the valley by my garden walk

Lily-of-the-valley.  Such an old-fashioned flower, one I adore.  One slim stalk is perfuming the whole room.  I remember them growing sort of wild on the property of my childhood, but I haven't seen them in the States in decades.  

They are a symbol of good luck on May 1, and are exchanged between friends and colleagues here in France.  Apparently sometime in the 1500's King Charles of France received one as a good fortune token and the custom has continued ever since.  

O don't you wish that you could hear them ring?

The 1st of May is not exactly a "national holiday here in France; it is however a day where NOBODY works.  Everything is closed tomorrow, and I do mean everything:  restaurants; the big stores out in the commercial zones; little shops that may normally be open on Sunday mornings. The Sunday supplement to the newspaper came out in today's edition.   Most things are already closed on Sundays, which I love.  A few things. like a handful of bakeries and butcher shops, Monoprix and Carrefour, the two "supermarkets" are open until noon.  But Sundays are reserved for family time here, not necessarily for church-going.  It's like the US before the repeal of "blue laws."  

That will happen only when the faeries sing

So, unlike Labor Day in the US, which is supposed to be a day off work, but in reality forces retail and fast food workers to serve a public that seemingly cannot stop consuming, May 1, "Labor Day" here in France, gives everyone a day off. 

Lilacs from today's market

I guess the only person working tomorrow is me--I have to play for the church service.  

Karmic Chickens are Roosting

Some of the Irish gang

For a large chunk of my journey on the planet, I have pushed people, singers mostly, to do things far outside their comfort zones.  I wanted them to demand the very best of themselves, because I honestly believe the greatest reward comes from the greatest effort.  In particular, I think of ORCA and some of the magnificent moments we shared when we'd mastered a particularly difficult piece (remember la ma ragashu?) Getting there was a sometimes painful process as people, including me, were stretched.  I hope it wasn't too much like being on the rack of the Inquisiton.

Joined by an accordion player

Now I am operating far, far outside my own comfort zone, culturally, linguistically and especially musically.  I am not used to being the "slowest" student in the class, but that is precisely where I find myself every Wednesday night at the Irish music workshop. Frankly, I don't like it much, but it is what it is. 

Guy's protege--she's been very supportive

What a learning experience! Now I am the one being pushed, urged, scolded.  To be fair to myself, I am really just learning the dulcimer.  I did buy it a couple of years ago, but it languished in the closet while I tended to the business of life and I directed my learning energies to the piano(That process is still ongoing, as well)  For all intents and purposes, I am at the beginning of the beginner level.  

When he's playing, Guy looks like a softie!

Having said that, I go every Wednesday evening for my weekly dose of humiliation to play with these people who've not only mastered their instruments, (fiddle, flute, penny whistle, guitar, bagpipes, bodhran) but are also well on their way to mastering an entire repertoire of Irish jigs, reels, hornpipes and the occasional waltz.  (Guy, the leader, is not a fan of ballads or anything with words, much to my disadvantage)  The net result is that I am at a significant deficit when it comes to making music and I am NOT accustomed to this position.

Last night was marginally better.  I have been practicing fiendishly, and I was actually able to play two of the four pieces I know without errors, with the group.  That is a major breakthrough for me.

Which flute to play?  He also has bagpipes

Not only have I learned more about the dulcimer and Irish music, I have learned some things about myself.  Now that I am the one being pushed, it's been interesting to see my response.  I haven't given up; if anything I am more determined than ever.  I have learned that while I may never have Guy's facility and mastery (after all, he's been playing for 50 years and I don't have that long left to live!!), I can still participate on a level that will be rewarding to me and not painful for the others. It's okay that I won't be the "leader" here.  

Beer, wine, tea and music!

Last night I was thinking that it's a shame that these Irish musicians don't have a place to play for dancing.  I started thinking of possible places to have a dance, a ceilidh, if you will.  (Although that's Scottish and Guy only plays Irish music.)  Maybe I could organize it?  At that point I stopped short, realizing that part of the reason I love it here is that I DON'T have to be the one to organize things.  

Old habits die hard, I guess.

Hands making music

This Morning's Market--A Score and A Splurge

Fruits or flowers?  Maybe both?

The Saturday market this morning was not as crowded as it was last week. There didn't seem to be as many British tourists.  Perhaps I was a little early or the weather was a factor.  I think there might also be something going on up at La Cite--some re-enactments at the Chateau.  I may walk up after lunch to check it out.  Whatever the cause, the market was a real joy.

The green of the asparagus mirrors the fresh green of the trees

Asparagus sorted by size.  (The waiter in the backgound at Bar Felix is Herve)

It is definitely asperges season....several booths were selling nothing but the green pencils.  I never knew there were so many varieties and that they are graded, apparently according to size.  The price has most definitely come down.  I was able to score two boites (bunches)  for a Euro a piece; at that price I have no reservations about making soup.  I won't grind up the more expensive spears; I eat them whole.  This stand also had a special on little melons, scarcely larger than a softball--3 for 2 Euros.  I had to try them.

There were also artichokes, some nearly as big as those red rubber balls we used to bounce in elementary school.  Some were scarcely bigger than unopened roses.  Artichokes have been available at the market all winter, but now they are quite plentiful.

Artichokes from small to gigantic

The market is awash in color and growing plants. The lady in the red hat and I had quite the conversation

But the biggest change I see in the market is the availability of plants--herbs, flowers, vegetables are overflowing the tables and the shelves.  The gardeners are in heaven and I am so sad that I don't have an "outside" where I could plant some basil, a pot of strawberries or a tomato plant. 

My windowsill "garden"  Jade plant, Christmas cactus and the newest addition, a gardenia

I have a windowsill "garden" that is thriving right now, but the plants are all indoor plants and do not need direct sun.  That fact does not stop me from lingering at the plant stands, wishing, wishing....

  

This morning I struck up a conversation with two other patrons.  One of them, an elderly gentleman with a definite twinkle in his eye, joined me at the flowering cactus table--and we marveled over the delicate blossoms on such fierce-looking plants.  "Ah nature," was his parting comment.  Further down the table, I encountered a lady in a jaunty red hat who traded me the French names for the flowers for their English counterparts.  When the market is really crowded, these kinds of exchanges are more difficult with so many people jockeying for passage through or to pay for their selections. 

General Sikorsky clematis?

I meandered over to my favorite vendors...tasted some honey with sunflower oil--superb, and I am not a great lover of honey.  My favorite organic vendors were doing a brisk trade in eggs and squash.  The girl is the one who introduced me to white beets.  Today she is a bit under the weather--perhaps she's caught a little cold.

On the way to one of my favorite vendors

But the splurge of the day came at the florist's....pivoines....peonies!  White, pink, and a coral that I have never seen before.  They are my favorite of all flowers and I splurged on a ready made bouquet.  I spent 5 Euros on my food and 7 on the flowers, and am thrilled to have done so.  I inhaled their fragrance and was transported immediately to the front yard of the place where I grew up.  Grandma had a lined of peony bushes ( I grew up pronouncing the word as pee-OH-nee)  I could hardly get enough of their perfume.  The florist told me that they have a relatively short window of availability, so I will be sure to look for them for about the next month.  

My Score and My Splurge

And after that, well--at this past Thursday market, I bought a gardenia plant with three buds, and I am positive one will perfume my apartment all by itself. 

Take the "L" Train (to Limoux)

Just photos, taken from the train window on today's ride to Limoux and back.

Naturalized bearded iris along the tracks

Vineyards stretch endlessly

In pencil striaght rows

More volunteer iris

Fields and hills

Far distant village

Yellow flowers all along the route

Lunch in Limoux

Flowering plum--brilliant against the stones

I NEVER tire of this view of the Aude

I know it might sound petty but I have been a little down in the dumps this week.  The only thing to which I can attribute it is that all this learning has taken a toll on my spirit.  Not very much is easy, and yes, I know it was my choice to make such a radical change in my life.  Most of the time, I feel pretty sunny, but certainly I can be allowed one or two moments of frustration.

Happy surprise--market day in Limoux, but where is the produce?

Today, I took myself off to Limoux for lunch.  It was more of an excuse to take the 1 Euro train ride through the countryside, and with each new sighting of spring, I could feel my spirits lifting, lifting, lifting.  I took some photos from the train window, so please bear in mind that the quality isn't always the best, but I would like to share some of the pictures of the surrounding environs of the Carcassonne area and the Aude.  

I just finished reading a history of Limoux that I really enjoyed.  So much Roman influence is  apparent and there are spots now that I really would like to visit.  I am fascinated by the Roman feats of engineering, especially having watched local workmen tear up Rue Verdun, replace the utility lines and repave the streets.  And they used heavy equipment.  

Street?   No problem, just build across it

This gargoyle looks scared rather than scary

Limoux's bubbly white wine predates Champagne, but they didn't do as hot a job marketing as did the vintners up north.  But the Cremat de Limoux  tickles my nose in the same way.

The Aude was swift and clear, I watched several ducks simply ride the current downstream.  I still quake to see the high water marks from historic floods.

If I didn't love Carcassonne so much, I could be very happy as a Limouxine.  (At least as long as the 1 Euro regional train is available)  Limoux is sort of like the Arcata of the Aude--those of you who are familiar with that enclave of hippiedom on the northern California coast will know what I am talking about--but it's cleaner and safer.  It's very definitely socialist in its local governance, nothing gets in the way of their Carnaval tradition, and nothing is safe from ridicule during Carnaval.  There is a lively music scene, maybe even more so than in Carcassonne, although I don't have enough information to state that definitively.  I know that there's a very busy visual arts community as well.  It's a nice place to live, I suspect.  Certainly it's a nice place to come for lunch.

The Musee du Piano is still closed, the gardens that I visited in late September will open in two weeks.  Tourist season is getting underway in Limoux.  The Brass Festival takes place at the end of April, and there are several upcoming art exhibits to view.  I am looking forward to spending more time in the Limoux and the Haute Vallee area.

Musee du Piano--still closed

For those who are interested in lunch--I had a glass of rose, which I now prefer to just about any other wine.  I have learned that the best is nearly grey, and I would not have understood that until I saw and tasted it.  There was a composed salad of fresh tomatoes, radishes, cucumbers, hard-boiled egg and, oh dear, 4 anchovy strips.  I had asked them to omit the onions, so I got anchovies instead.  To my credit, I did try a forkful.  I still believe they are an acquired taste.  This was followed by an entrecote (sort of like a very thin rib-eye steak) with pepper sauce, a pile of delicious French fries--they actually tasted like potatoes and not cooking oil.  There was a basket of chewy, crusty baguette.  I confess to having a piece and wanting more, but I refrained.  I declined dessert (my, but aren't I virtuous?) and I finished with a cafe--a little tiny cup of espresso.What a treat! 

Beckoned through the archway

Such a big lunch warranted a long walk to aid in the digestion, so I set off.  About a block from the Place de la Republique, I smelled the most wonderful odor--and I began to follow my nose.  I recognized it as wisteria; the fragrance got stronger as I approached the Sous Prefectire which borders the river.  I walked beneath an archway to discover the source of the perfume--a gnarled, old-vine wisteria framing the doorway of one of the houses overlooking the quai along the river.  It took my breath away.  After spending some time trying to get some "arty" photos, I walked along the Aude for a bit  until it was time to head to the train station and home. 

The source of the perfume

Arty? wisteria

Arch of Pont Vieux echoed in the arches of the tree branches

No, I can't claim to have the same spectacular scenery as Boardman State Park between Brookings and Gold Beach, but this scenery here moves me equally.  I only wish I had a way to convey the smells and tastes of the day.  It was just the cure for my little case of the blues.  

I NEVER ever tire of this view

Les Dames de #34

Some cupcake offerings

Today Sophie organized an outing for the women of #34 Rue du Pont Vieux to a local tea shop, Merry Cakes.   The place is warm and cozy and stuffed to the gills with frilly, "girlie" decor: chintz, gingham, and cupcakes!

Sophie and her hot chocolate

Carol'a selection--strawberry, I think

We had a nice visit, low key and soothing.  Tea was the order of the day for some of us; others indulged in coffee or a hugely decadent chocolat chaud.   We spoke of travel, our working lives and our great good fortune at living in Carcassonne.

Susan laughs, probably at a remark of Debbie's

Sometimes it's nice to put a face to names.  Here are some of the women of #34. 

Debbie--I couldn't get her to face me

Carol

Sophie

Susan

 

 

 

Domestic Tranquility

Tidy and domestic

I have made a resolution to spend less time on the computer.  I know it's my own fault, but I find that it can eat up hours that I think might be better spent reading or writing or doing just about anything else.  And honestly, I don't think I can bear one more over-the-top Donald Trump antic posted to my news feed.

Chicken vegetable soup

After resolving to do this, I have had two wonderful days in my house.  The weather has not been really conducive for hiking or being outside for hours on end.  Mondays are sleepy and shuttered as it is, so there's no real incentive to go "window licking."  I have made soup, done some spring cleaning, done a bit of writing and generally accomplished some chores. I have enjoyed fruitful practice sessions on both the piano and the dulcimer. 

My clothes dryer (Nice enough to open the windows)

 I get why men want wives--someone to keep the house calm and running well makes for a happy disposition.  

No question where out food originates!

Today I went back to the beauty school and had a new student practice her coloring skills.  I am happy with the results and especially happy with the price.  I figure that nothing really can go wrong, as an instructor always casts a discerning eye over their work.  So now, when I sit in with the Irish group, I can be an Irish redhead.

My "Christmas" cactus has decided to thrive