Friday, August 26, 2016

Poetic death

Once again the Francophone media has waxed lyrical about the death of a celebrity. Marilyn Monroe didn't die, she went to join her beloved Arthur. Lions ceased their roar when a well known lion tamer died. And so on.

The latest poetic death is Sonia Rykiel.

She has gone to design clothes for the angels.

I hope they like their new styles and their wings do not create too much of a design problem.

Wednesday, August 24, 2016


A typical market day meeting with friends at Coté Place for coffee, tea, juice or whatever and much conversation as the marché buzzed around us.

One of the regular group had just come back from the UK where she had stayed with others whom she knows because they have second homes here. It was much like Rick and I did recently with a couple we adore and they are now ensconced in our nest, there own home having an overflow of people.

We talked about how Argelès was different in the summer with the tourists than in the winter but it had its own magic all year round.

Magic is the right word. People arrive tired and spent and the quick turn around time to relaxation is seen on their faces. 

We are from several countries.

Friends gather and share with those that live here all year round. There is an undertone of caring and support for the bad times and a joyful acceptance of the good.

We know each other's children and cares. We try and help one another if not in person at least in moral support. 

My personal experience thru my recent cancer challenges (over hopefully) was I had a cheering team from this group.

In a way the relationships are like the spider web on the wall behind the table where we were sitting. Unlike the spider web, the network keeps growing.

They are delicate and beautiful friendships, but more lasting than the spider spins because we build them that way.

Tuesday, August 23, 2016


Thank you for the visit. Please come back to read a wide range of topics.

Back in my pre-menopause days, I never suffered any pain. What did happen a couple of days before was overwhelming energy. I would use the energy for mega projects. In fact I kept lists for things to do during those periods.

This morning, I woke up with a similar attack of domesticity. I woke early. Before lunch I had...
  • Cleaned the fridge
  • Ironed (yes I iron normally because I prefer the feel of the clothes)
  • Mended clothes
  • Made raspberry muffins (recipe below*)
  • Delivered muffins to friends
  • Misc. cleaning chores
Hopefully the attack will pass and not happen in the near future.

  • 1 3/4 cups flour
  • 2 teaspoons baking powder
  • 1/3 cup oil
  • 2 eggs lightly beaten
  • 1/2 cup coconut milk
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
  • 1 teaspoon cinnamon
  • 1 cup minimum fresh raspberries

Sift dry ingredients including sugar. Beat eggs, milk and add oil and add to dry ingredients. Fill greased muffin tins or paper muffin cups and bake at 350/190° for about 20 mins. 


Monday, August 22, 2016


Thank you for visiting
Please come again.

Dum, da, di, dum, da, di, dum, di, dum, di dum. 

I'm humming the proper funeral dirge as I carry my loyal food processor which helped me for over 13 years, chop, mix, slice food. Mashed potatoes, soups, meatloaves, puddings, meals too numerous to list passed under its blades in part or in whole. It was always my most valuable kitchen tool.

Today I killed it.

I was making a vegetable curry and I swear I don't know how a small spoon slipped in with the yogurt, mint and cucumber chunks that would accompany the main dish.

The death knell was loud and heart breaking.

I'm carrying it in full pomp and circumstance to its next to final resting place. It will wait there until our next trip to the decheterie where it will join other appliances for whatever eternity and rebirth awaits.

I am sure the authorities will consider it involuntary appliance slaughter.

Dum, da, di, dum, da, di, dum, di, dum, di dum.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Found in translation

Thank you for visiting.
Please come back again for a wide variety of topics.

Last night we walked the 135 steps to the movie theatre. It would have been 70 had we used the front door.

The movie was L'aigle et l'enfant, almost a documentary of a young boy in the Austrian Alps trying to save a young eagle, deal with a suffering father and being encouraged by a helpful ranger (Jean Reno). The scenery was breath taking, the plot touching.
It reminded me of a film I saw many years ago, L'Enfant et le renard, only with a girl and the Jura mountains, equally beautiful.

As soon as I was home I looked up the film on and they said it was in English and narrated by Jean Reno.

Hmmm -- sure sounded like French to me and there was conversation more than narration.

Then I realized. In the Anglo world the title had been translated to Brothers in the Wind.

Changes in titles from country to county is nothing new for me. 
The first time it happened was in the 80s. Llara was living in Germany and raved about a film Out of Rosenheim. "You have to find it Mutti," she said phoning me in Boston from Munich.

A few months later, I saw Baghdad Café and told her in another overseas call (expensive then) that she had to see it.

As we discussed the obese German woman in a dessert town that changed both her as she changed the ambience of the place and those that lived in it, we discovered it was the same film.

A few years later and living in Geneva, Switzerland, I loved a new medical TV show, Urgence, about an American hospital emergency room. Appreciated one of the handsome actors, too.

Only after about six months, when I was reading about new hit American TV shows, did I realize that Urgence and ER were the same program. Even in reruns I think of it as Urgence not ER.

In other words, a lot has been found in translation.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

Art clothes

 I admit it!

I'm prejudice of the work of Eva Rödseth, a renown Swedish artist living in Argelès-sur-mer, France.

I am lucky enough to have one of her works on my wall.
When she told me she was going into a new phase where her art work would appear on clothing, I could hardly wait to see some of the first examples. I haven't been disappointed.

There is also a beautiful scarf that I have my eye on (hint, hint, hint Rick-Christmas is coming. Maybe a Christmas gift or two as well.)
The idea of wearing the work of an artist rather than corporate clothing thrills me.

Now, I'm guilty of encouraging others to look into her work as well both at the store where you could buy an item or read about the artist herself at

Thursday, August 18, 2016


Thank you for visiting
Please come again.

The Burkini being forbidden on some French beaches is the latest stupid religious brouhaha.

Women's clothing has been and can be used as a wedge issue. It wasn't that long ago in human history that this was the only acceptable woman's swimming costume on a beach.

And although I don't like the dress limitations for women in public, it is not my religion.

If men can't control themselves if a bit of a woman shows, than it is the man's problem, but that is a western feminist point of view. I have no right to dictate what my sisters believe. Although it is many years since I've received unwanted wolf whistles or sexual comments while walking down the street, the protection of being hidden does have an advantage.

And except for full face covering for security issues it seems to be the Muslim coverings aren't that different from Catholic nuns a few years back.

I am much concerned about the refugees made homeless by the manipulation of the western world against the Middle East. I care more about those who tomorrow, next week, or next month will be killed by a western drone.