Thursday, October 22, 2015

Home again, home again jiggerty jig

Misty mountains muted the fall colors of the trees as we drove from Geneva to Grenoble...

We've done the route many times, but this one was the prettiest. The standard of wow-look-at-that is very high.

Then there is a blank as I slept. When I woke, the topography had changed to the vineyards, crusty rocks and scrub pines of Southern France. 

We made record time. Six and three quarters hour and if you are asleep it goes even faster.  When I used to travel with my friend RB2 we would barely be out of the driveway he'd tease, "You're still awake?" whenever we went any where. Part of the reason, I think of him as a brother wantabe, the teasing that is. If only when I have trouble sleeping, Rick would drive me around.

Coming into our street, our front door was covered with flowers. Our patio is full of flowers. My landlady had left red roses and a Danish friend had a single yellow rose. 

And there have been another kind of flowers. Hugs, including from the more reticent French, became abundant. 

After unpacking we walked around the village. The first person we saw was my favorite mammie who warned Rick to take good care of me. Then we were greeted by Laurent at La Noisette and Marco the artist who had taken off a lot of weight. He almost looked respectable. 

Marco brought a rose and a book to lay on my friend Barbara's final resting place. She sold books. Over the years, the villagers have staked out different memories in my emotional database.

My wonderful landlady brought down her fish soup full of salmon and shrimp that she knows we love. There were basics in the frigo so we did not have to shop.

The doorbell rang and PBJ (Swiss friends who we only see here) were there with more hugs. No, they aren't a sandwich but neighbors whose initials match the childhood lunch. Dinner is slated for Sunday night. Some day I have to make them one.

This morning on the way to say goodbye to C&W (not a store) who were returning to the UK and leaving at 9:15, I ran into Mattieu, the hotel owner. I still have to catch up with his partner.

Rick and I had an English breakfast at La Noisette, followed by more hugs and cheek kisses from people whom we know.

One of the reasons I love the village is that I get a chance to see people just by poking my nose out the door.

It will be a quick ten days. It will be a wonderful ten days.

Then we will jiggerty jig to Geneva until the new year.

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