The outdoor metal heaters standing six feet high or more were probably always outside Paris cafés, except I never noticed them. This year I did when one allowed me to do the Paris thing of sitting and watching people outside the café. The high price of coffee is low if you consider one cup can rent you a heated space for a morning of observation or even writing. Franck has bought one for La Noisette, although the need is borderline.
After days of rain, the sun daned to make an appearance. Although the storm made writing time cozy and productive it was wonderful to take a walk along the river. River is a loose time. I had come here for over a decade before ever seeing water. Today the river was racing, bubbling and gurgling. Several entrances to the village were cut off by water flooding over the road.
SNAKE…As I walked along a river, a small brown viper no more than a foot long twisted leisurely across the path. I must have scared him? her? Although there was no way to tell, but it trebled its speed and disappeared. I hope it has nightmares of giant women tonight.
The olives trees in the groves are ladened with fruit. Some are the size of large green grapes, but on the same tree others are ripening into pretty shades of purple as well as dull black.
I am getting ready to go back to Geneva for the winter where I have much to look forward to. There’s friends to see and I feel I NEED a fondue at the Café du Soleil. Chitra has a dance recital and Nandita will appear in her play. This group is run by a man and each year he works with young kids who write, design and direct the production. For anyone who had sat through terrible Christmas pageants, forget any resemblance. Not only will I see one with the family, I told them I would drive Nandita to the one up in the Jura. The performance is over before there’s any desire to check a watch. And there is the rock star, who will do a concert of operatic songs. The Library will hold its book sale which reminds me so much of Reading’s Church of the Good Shepherd Christmas Fair with its sandwiches and desserts. I am to go to Bern or Zurich to line up with Christianne, a former coworker from the first few years in Switzerland. And in between I hope to get some writing done.
Two inheritors still need to sign off on the sale to my flat and I am trying to get to the notaire who is in charge. I don’t trust the real estate agent, but for the notaire dealing with all those people trying to get this place off his books must be a nightmare.