Living and Gardening in Brittany

Wednesday, August 23, 2006 Visitors Unfortunately for my August visitors they arrived the day the 'canicule' ended. The local Festival de Jazz was not affected. We enjoyed Dixieland, Samba, Salsa, African, Brazilian, Trad and Hot Club rhythms amongst others, all free in a variety of beautiful settings. One day the Festival came to my village and as it was my visitor's birthday the band played Happy Birthday for him. The same day we joined the walk to a nearby lake where we enjoyed our picnic to the strains of the same band. We then walked on to the main festival site exhausted after the 10 kilometre walk where we were re-energised by some friends who met us for a birthday drink whilst we listened to three more bands. My favourite by far was the big Salsa Band who had been to Cuba to learn the rhythms and had the hundred strong crowd dancing in the street. I have never seen so much musical dexterity on my doorstep.

I am still confused. Now matter how hard I try to sort out my blogs and my identity they become more and more confused. Who am I? Why is it so difficult to be one person. Is having multiple identities an illness?  The problem is I am not really any of them. I am above my body looking down on this person who can't sleep,  who wants to write, who wants to garden, to watch tv, to read. I am bored with reality. I can't be a mother or a granny.   Maybe this is just an excuse so that I can excuse myself from the mundane.

Wednesday, July 19, 2000 What's in a name? Quite a lot I think. I have been playing about with names partly because I was wondering if male authors are published more often than female authors and also because I am trying to choose names for the characters in my book. I can't keep on calling them he/him and she/her. Or maybe I'm just having another identity crisis. I usually move the furniture around it's not so drastic.

Monday, July 24, 2006 Club Des Aines Sometimes we meet to play games, boules, belotes or scrabble. Sometimes we have outings. Sometimes we have a communal meal. Last week we had a communal meal. The numbers vary from 100-300 but everyone is found a seat and we are waited on. The meals are usually five courses, sometimes more, and each course is accompanied by a drink. First of all we begin with the customary greetings at the door. Having lived here almost three years I mostly know who to kiss once, twice, three or four times and with whom to just to just shake hands. As you can imagine this takes some time especially when some people stay to chat which I always hope they do because it's one of the few opportunities I get to practise my french. We began with a choice of aperitifs, Ricard or whiskey with crispy nibbles and endless plates of sausages on sticks. I was assured that they were pure meat unlike British sausages which are famous for a variety of ingredients of which meat ...

Everyday starts with 'What shall I do today?' Sometimes when it is raining it's a relief because that cuts down the options. How lucky I am to be able to decide what to do and what's more my choices are exactly that, choices. There is very rarely a 'must do' on the list. If there is, it is usually to go to the ferry or airport to pick up visitors. This is always a pleasant task because the roads are traffic free and the scenery is charming and I look forward to having guests from time to time. Last weekend I went to St. Malo on our monthly outing to the Thalassotherapy Centre. It's an enormous salt water Jacuzzi with jets for every muscle followed by 30 minutes in the water gym with an instructor who shouts instructions to exercise the same muscles. This evening I shall go to the gym class. Tomorrow is Breton Boules and Friday evening is Breton dancing. I have no idea why I do not lose weight. Do you think it could be the five course meals? Or maybe it...

Girl and boy Gathering buttercups Running hither and thither ‘Look, look at these Stop, standstill.’ Boy holds large buttercup under girl’s chin Catches shimmering sunlight in iridescent cup It reflects on her throat, ‘Yes, yes you like butter. ‘Let’s find a four-leafed clover’. Running bending plucking ‘I’ve found one. I’ve found one.’ ‘Oh no. Oh no.’ Over and over. ‘One o’clock, two o’clock.’ Scattering seeds float up, up and away. ‘Three o’clock, four o’clock’. They drift high into the sky ‘Five o’clock, six o’clock’. ‘Look, oh look at mine’. ‘Over there, white clovers. You can get milk from white clovers’. They place them gingerly in their mouths Then wrinkle freckled noses ‘Agh, agh’. They fall rolling in the grass Laughing with utter delight. They lie listening Melodious, meadow music surrounds them Unseen insects sing soprano Contralto and alto from birds and small mammals Bees provide the drone Basso profundo from the big beast beyond the hawt...

My flight for last Tuesday was cancelled due to a strike. I booked another flight for Friday which gave me three un-timetabled days here. I defrosted the fridge which was very much needed. Today I gathered as many plums as I could and also some blackberries. I hate leaving fruit to fall because the birds and insects don't eat it all. I managed to give a large bowlful of plums to Jenny and I then stewed and froze a good quantity. I did the same with the blackberries. I also managed to stick the gladdies. Next year if I plant them I shall plant them among the bushes or stake them earlier. They remind me of my dad and the colours are amazing.

There was a Fête in the Village on Sunday. It was organised by the school for everybody. After 7 years I am still amazed by the organisation of these village affairs. Makeshift structures are erected in case of inclement weather and the tables are prepared for the usual five course meal. It was a starter of beetroot with a kir and meat of some kind, followed by barbecued pork with potatoes and ratatouille and red wine, then cheese and a sweet then coffee. A hundred and fifty meals were served. Then the games began. Villagers had organised themselves into teams to take part in the traditional local sports. A pool had been constructed from bails of hay and a giant sheet of polythene. A moving diving board was provided by a local farmer and the contestants had to put on a pair of overalls while travelling along the moving platform before they reached the edge, otherwise - splash. Another game was rolling a giant bail of hay around an obstacle course. The team who achieved the shorte...

My last weekend before going to UK. has been great. I knew the weather was going to be sunny and warm. I have only been to the coast to swim once this summer and was determined to go once more because I believe that it will be my last chance this year. So I drove to collect Sylvaine and we drove to Les Hopitaux my favourite beach. The car park was empty unlike the last time I came when it was difficult to find a space. We went through a gap in the rocks and discovered a tiny beach completely empty. We set up camp and I swam in the sea. I love the coast here no matter which of them I visit on the emerald coast or pink granite coast. I yearn to live by the sea. Wouldn't it be great to be able to walk down to the beach. I wonder if one (I) would get tired of waking up to the sound of the sea? We lunched at Les Sables de Pins on moules frites (what else) with a glass of red followed by a wicked dessert. We took the coastal route back to Sylvaine's and I was home in time for a res...