Christmas letters

 

 

I love Christmas letters from friends. 

Over the years we've been close to people and then they moved or we did. Some people we keep in close touch, for others it is the only contact. I see photos of babies I held hold their own babies. Heads of hair turn gray or disappear forever. Small houses or flats become bigger than smaller. 

In the time of covid the letters are different. The best are where everyone is still alive. One we received from a couple in Australia who baby sat Sherlock a few years back. We giggled throughout where trips to different exotic places were replaced with stories of mowing a lawn in a pattern and painting on their porch.

THIS IS OURS

2020 started with Rick enrolling in a three month intensive French course in Geneva. He needed to pass a test to qualify for his Permis C, permission to continue to live in Switzerland. We watched a lot of French language TV as well.

Our first inkling of crisis was when the language exam was cancelled because of the virus. He still sent in all his papers and the results of a test-test not an official one. At least we proved he was working on the language requirement.

Being kept in Switzerland was not a hardship. It's a joy in many ways, covid not withstanding. But what was frustrating to not be able drive across the border for Chinese or Indian food--only ten minutes away rather than going through Geneva traffic downtown.

Because he's married to me he can now fast track for Swiss nationality, but even without me, the Permis C means he can apply at the five-year end of this Permis C. I had to wait 12 years, but the requirements are harder now.

I joked that he no longer had to treat me well to stay in Switzerland, but if anything, he treats me even better-- if it is possible.

We decided to head south to France for Easter just in time for a lockdown. Strange feeling with everything closed. Good Lord, we had to do all our own cooking, no escaping to La Noisette, Gametta, or Bartavelle. 

We also realized we were not going to Ireland, Norway, US and several other countries that we had planned. A big treat was a walk in the veggie allotments to let Sherlock off leash and to run and to get back before the time on our necessary attestation ran out.

And speaking of running out, Rick's Permis B was due to run out on May 17, and the possibility of him being barred from the country ran large in our nightmares.

The lockdown ended the 15th and we made a run for the Swiss border some 700K away slightly over the new 100K limit. On the drive not a police was to be seen. 

At the border there was no problem for Rick. Me? I couldn't locate my identity card, but after a frantic search, I found my driver's permit and the waved us through for our last leg to home. 

A few day later, a miracle mail happened...his Permis C arrived in the mail. It is good for five years and it is no longer dependent on being married to me which was the case with his Permis B.

It was good to me home as spring burst into its full glory. The garden seemed to increase its floral show as a way to stick nature's tongue out at the pandemic.

We ate socially distanced in restaurants, saw a few friends, although not like we would have if no pandemic existed, got caught up on bills, filed the paperwork for taxes and had our medical checkups. Even a tooth cleaning became a treat of being normal er almost.

I continued to work on my new novel Lexington, and received copies of my latest publication Day Care Moms. Rick adjusted to different magazine schedules, did webinars and even a conference virtually. When he does those in Geneva I hide out at my friend Julia's. In France to do those things, he goes up to my Nest, the studio where I used to live BR (before Rick) saving him from dog interruptions. Somehow Sherlock barking at a cat, just does have the professionalism he wants to depict.

He also continued to play golf and hickory golf whenever he could. He joined the board of one organization. For the first time we went to the Italian section of Switzerland for a tournament. In finding a sitter for Sherlock, we found a new friend. 

I never travel through Switzerland even after 30 years not being gobsmacked by its beauty.

We decided to go back to France for a "short" time. Short depends on shutdowns we have learned.

On the way down, I fainted in the ladies room after a great meal in Avignon. I spent my birthday in the Perpignan hospital until they diagnosed an intestinal infection. Compared to those people in another building fighting for their lives, I could not be unhappy. And since my first thought was cancer, a puny infection was a cause for rejoicing.

While in the hospital, a male nurse, with whom I'd had late night conversations, learned that I loved the French/Canadian singer Garou. He beamed his Sous le Vent https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a2_ss9y-VjE 

In France we found the village still had a large number of tourists but nothing like other years. Every time we saw a friend who braved travel from other countries we celebrated, usually at a distance and masked. So many events like a major music festival and the street dancers were cancelled. 

Pauline, our talented local baker outdid herself with my birthday cake. 

I've swallowed my disappointment at my daughter not being able to come from Boston. I was happy that she was healthy, working from home and working in comparison to how others were suffering. We Facebook message several times a week. I'm so lucky to have her.

It is a psychological challenge to maintain our equilibrium between the horrors of the political world, the disease and our good fortune to have our love, friends, basic health, our writing and golfing passions and that we concentrate on. We have food and roofs over our heads in two countries.

Everyone is looking forward to 2021. Who know what will happen but it is our wish for peace in all its forms for the planet, humans, animals...

Interesting that Rick's blog http://lovinglifeineurope.blogspot.com/ picks up other things.