Favorites of the Summer

This summer has been busy, busy--chock full of laughter, fun and new experiences. Maybe my French suffered a bit from all the English speaking I've done (sorry Michele) but school is just around the corner and we'll all be back to business. Before it all becomes a blur of sunny happiness here are a few of my favorite moments.

Mom's visit and our girls' only--moi, ma fille, and grand-mere--trip to Provence.

We went to Arles, of Van Gogh's Starry Night and Cafe at Night paintings, on our way to Aix-en-Provence and stopped for a  cafe lunch under the trees, the view of the Roman amphitheater as a backdrop.

Roman Amphitheatre Arles

From there we headed to Aix and our hideaway gite; hideaway because neither I nor Nancy could find it and we had to work through a painfully frustrating telephone exchange with Francoise, the beautiful and patient owner in order to find our way.

I met fellow blogger Delana of du jour at the night market in Aix and it was wonderful to put a face and a warm hug to the life and experiences I greedily devour through her writing.

A scenic trip through the Luberon and a final stop in Gordes, one of the most lovely little hilltop towns you can imagine, had us all three oohing and aahing all the way up and down the mountain.

Gordes

Les Estivales in Montpellier

Every Friday night the esplanade in the center of Montpellier turns into a food and drink festival. Wine vendors from the area come to showcase their best and a selection of festival food--falafel, white funnel cones of 20 saucissons, Nutella crepes and ice-covered plates covered with oysters on the half-shell provide dinner under the plane trees.You buy a glass for 4 euro and get three refills of any of the wines. Of course you can buy bottles too and each vingeron offers to have you visit their vignoble for personal tastings. That's on my list of trips to make and now I have a collection of flyers and cards of places to visit first. That's motivation to keep on my French.


Paillotes 

Each May to September, beautiful beach restaurants take shape on the sand--paradises sparkling by the Med. They are elaborate constructions of wood, cloth and twinkly lights temporarily gracing the private sections of beach along the Grand Travers. Each have lounge beds thick with terrycloth cushions, sun umbrellas and attractive waitstaff. There are floaty curtains and grand banks of seats for those who come for drinks and dinner. We spent an afternoon having brunch sans enfants and it was magic. Pricey, but magic. And worth the luxury because like summer and its glittering moments, they'll be gone.

Paillote heaven

Vide Grenier

Or empty attic, literally translated are flea markets that take up entire villages. I've fallen in love with them and can't wait to visit on the weekends. The anticipation of what you might find, what little secret gem or perfect piece to add to a collection is bundled up in someone's van and driven into the village, displayed among the rows and rows of silver, doll heads, white monogrammed linens, stick furniture and dough bowls, just for you to find! Treasure! I've begun a collection of vintage parfum ads and my first is a beauty from 1948.

That's only four. I have a few more but the natives are getting restless. And boy is it a scorcher today....natives and pool beckoning.

Strong Like Bull

happy birthday you stubborn little bull!

Tomorrow is my baby's birthday. I call him 'the littlest' but really he's anything but. He's my big kid--the one who wears one size bigger than his age, eats non-stop, and walks around like he owns the world ploughing through any obstacles that might get in his way. He's a Leo two times over  so I've always thought of him as a lion. It doesn't really fit though. He's more of a fortress as his middle name suggests.
My friend Abby was here all last week and she described him perfectly: "He's strong like bull." (She doesn't really talk like that, it's just for effect.) And he is.
My grandfather's nickname was Bully and I always thought he got his moniker because of  bullying behavior, you know the kind we're told to guard against and be on the lookout for in schools these days. But now I am starting to think it was more bullish than bullyish....a series of shared qualities in his little great grandson. He stomps his little square feet, charges ahead and at times it is advisable to beware.

So it is fitting that tomorrow starts the Fete d'ete in our town. It's a week long celebration of all things bullish. From what I've heard there will be any manner of strange goings on. The bulls will run through the streets, mad teenagers and old men alike chasing alongside, literally 'grabbing the bull by the horns'. There will be something called a 'toro piscine' where a pool is placed in the middle of the nearby arena and the idea is that these same mad teenagers will chase and run with the bulls in the ring until everyone, bull and teenager alike, is whipped into a frenzy. And just when neither can take it anymore the teenagers jump into the pool, narrowly escaping the wrong side of the bulls' horns. Apparently bulls can't swim no matter how angry they get. Either that or they just think it's funny to scare kids into jumping fully dressed into a pool of water in front of the entire town. Surely bulls have a good sense of humor, right? Mine sure does.

These signs are all over the town in preparation for the fete.

Bittersweet

Yesterday could have been a super sad, super blue kinda day.
Mom left after a bit over three weeks of togetherness.
She settled into our new life here quite seamlessly. You could always find her on the terrace picking grapes from the vine that twists its way over the railing and popping them straight into her mouth for an afternoon snack.

Every morning she and the Baby would sit  together playing cars until he shrieked with giddy laughter. He'd vroom the cars along the arm of the chair and send them flying across the terrace, crashing and clanking on the tiles. Only to do it over and over again, laughter becoming more shrill each time.

She allowed the big kids to take it in turns sleeping with her. She'd do one night with each and then have a 'break night' to recover from the cricks and bruises caused by crazy kid legs and arms and actually get some sleep. Each morning after a kid sleep she'd have a story to tell--the Middlest slept horizontal and knocked over the bedside lamp, Ma Fille flailed her arms and punched her in the eye. All side effects of sleeping with kids. And all worth it to her because it made them happy.

She and I shopped, feng shui-ed, and decorated. The Baby getting a new room with custom-made curtains and the living room taking shape and feeling more homey. 

You already know about the priceless gift of our weekend away in Barcelona but we also got a couple of nights out, a day at the beach which I'll tell you about, and an afternoon to shop without having to bribe and kid wrangle.

But so it is. She had to go and now we'll plan for the next visit...what things we can do and see, how much more we can learn about wine and cheese and each other--as grown-ups and the people we really are and not just the well-worn roles of 'mother and daughter'.

And as I said, it could have been boohoo central around here....BUT!

We had the arrival of one of my two Besties and her kids to save us from gloom. Mom's flight into Paris and their flight out of Paris passed each other mid-morning at 30,000 feet.

No sooner had we dropped Grandmother at departures, rushed to Carrefour for more sausages, milk and cheese, over to IKEA (again!) for a mattress and a quick lunch, were we back at the airport, this time a few hundred yards down at arrivals.

The timing could not have been better.

Yesterday afternoon was spent by the petite piscine, sipping bubbly wine, eating more grilled sausages and laughing, laughing, laughing. Kids running wild and reconnecting like forever best friends themselves. It is an embarrassment of riches over here Chez Nous--all immeasurable, all appreciated, perfect bliss.