Day 15 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Dispatches #2 - Battle Stations!

Salut nos amis! (Hi there friends!)  It's a sunny day in the South of France but there is something missing.  Yes, it's you and all the people who normally fill the world with sound.  Sure, I hear the occasional car go by and it's a gendarme's van checking to see that everyone is respecting the quarantine.  There is the whistling of our neighbor as he works on his 2CV but even that is a bit quieter than usual.  The ladies are chatting less from their balconies.  We lost over 400 souls yesterday and no amount of sunshine can make up for that. It's sobering news here and there's no way I will sugar coat that...

The Castillet in Perpignan flying the Catalan flag

Day 15 - It's morning as I start the blog, but as to what time, it hardly matters.  I'm not going anywhere.  The day divides into parts instead of hours now.  There is the part when we've risen - we call it morning even though some days that is nearly noon.  We don't set alarms and we don't plan.  We break fast and ask the everyday things like, "Did you sleep well?"  "Coffee?"  "Oui. s'il te plait."  It's a Tuesday according to my phone but these days that is also meaningless.  The bank that is closed on Mondays is closed everyday.  Sure you can call them if you need something you can't do online, so technically they are open.  The sign on the door tells you that's not the case.  

Thankfully, I don't need them at the moment because the last time I did, I discovered the person answering the phone was in Montpellier and not here where I do my banking.  On that occasion, I drove into town and went to the bank so I could ask my questions face to face.  It's very challenging for me to do anything important on the telephone.  My French is pretty good, but when it comes to details, it really helps to look the person in the eyes and verify with hand signals, figures on paper or dates written down that you understand one another.  Right now the only person I can speak with face to face is my partner.  We tend to stick to things like, "What would you like for dinner?"  "That was delicious."  You know that kind of thing.

And just like you, we're not going anywhere, not spending anything more than we need to on food and newspapers.  Yes, I know we can read a lot of the news online and we do, but it's not the same.   The printed newspaper is big and takes me all day or sometimes even two days to read.  My French partner spends at least an hour reading it, so as you can tell, there is still a whole lot of information in it.  I haven't even looked at today's yet.  Though I've been listening to the TV in the background.  For a while I tried to ignore it and spent time doing what I hate - organizing files in the computer and updating all the information and passwords.  Somehow whole hours disappear and it's noon. 

Then, because I was at the computer, I read the region's local news online.  I probably

shouldn't have done that before lunch.  I have been thinking a lot about Perpignan, the closest city to us. I love it. This small, Catalan city is just 18 kilometers from us ( about 11 miles) but at the moment it might as well be on the Moon.  I'm depressed as I get up to fix lunch.  The news is not good.  The poorer quarters, sometimes referred to as "gitane" (gypsy) other times called by it's proper name "Quartier Saint Jacques" is being hit hard by the virus.  It figures.  Poverty binds communities more tightly than affluence does.  I've often walked through the area when shopping at the open market in Place Cassanyes.  It looks like a close-knit community of tiny houses and apartments.  I have a feeling the number of people in some of those houses might be more than I would find comfortable.

I read that we have 2,126 people who have tested positive for the virus. of which 365 have recovered.  Sadly, there have also been 81 deaths from Covid-19 in our region of

Occitanie.  The rest are still in hospital.  Nine of those deaths were during the last twenty four hours but that does not tell me how many of those might have been in Perpignan. Since the region is approximately 28.000 square miles (72,724 square kilometers

according to Google) it's just a little bit bigger than West Virginia and has at last count, 5,845,102 inhabitants (think Los Angeles plus Phoenix),  so it still means we're better off than the north of France where the hospitals are now starting to struggle to keep up with new cases being admitted.  On that note, I must stop and have lunch.  I'll be back afterwards.

We watched the news as we ate and that was better than I thought it would be.  We've had enough bad news from the front lines today.  Now for the stories that were bright lights.  As this crisis unfolds, we see the evil actions of greedy people.  But there is so much goodness  that comes comes out at times like this.  

When the veterinarians heard that the medical services needed more ventilators, gloves, gowns,

Chili helps take away the chill.

and masks, they sent theirs.  It turns out the same equipment is used in veterinary surgery.  But don't fret - they told us that in each region, there would be emergency vets still equipped for extreme animal emergencies.  This is happening both in France and in America.  

A least one family in France has opened a sanitized wing in their house for truckers to stop over.  It made me tear up as I watched the report.  They said, "The truckers are keeping us all alive by bringing food, cleaning supplies and medical equipment.  We want to support them."

The highways are no only being used by the forces of order, the military, truckers and ambulances.  But the usual rest stops are closed.  A local company has set up a fast food van at the truck stop with free hot meals.  There are signs on the highway stating which days at which stops they are open.

Air B&B owners who rent out secondary homes, are providing free lodging for those care takers on the front line who can't go home, either because it's too far or because they fear contaminating their families.

Décathlon a big sports store, has made 30,000 diving masks available only to the medical profession. Turns out that idea works very well for taking the place of the traditional ones used with ventilators thanks to someone who designed a 3-D printed gasket to modify it.

My own visit in 2018 - lots of folks!

The National Orchestra performed La Bolero via Skype at the end of the news.  It was inspiring to see them on the screen, each at home, playing as one.  Here is the link, I hope you can see it. National Orchestra Skypes Together.

The sight of Mont Saint Michel with no visitors was impressive.  The nuns and priests said they felt closer to everyone in their own isolation.  It's fitting that it is once again what it was meant to be - a monastery.

And finally, when I went back online before I came back to write to you, I saw that doctor's wife in the states had worked out how to make effective HEPA masks from vacuum cleaning bags. 

It's amazing how wonderful humans can be when they work together.

So keep on looking up.  We are stronger together.  I hear you - you are doing the right thing and staying at home.  You are singing, writing, taking photos of life under lock-down, sending out posts, jokes, making videos, and sharing beauty of being alive.  Thank you!  Everyone needs the sound of life - and love.  We love you!

A demain, nos amis!  Link to Day 16

Day 14 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Let Us Eat Quiche!

Salut!  Ça va?  Hi - (How are you today?)  I know, this confinement is tough.  The news is depressing, and every time you sneeze or cough you think, wait a minute, am I okay?  Yep.  We're with you on that.  But so far, we're doing okay and we sure hope you are also.  So, I see the milk has been open for a few days and we still have some eggs.  There are bits and bobs of leftover veggies and a bowl of smoked ham pieces.  I did buy two ready-made unbaked pie crusts.  There - that's lunch sorted.  My partner can get it started for us. Meanwhile, I'll chat with you about all things trivial and wonderful that come to mind.  After that we'll bake lunch -  yes, it will be quiche! 

Vineyards in the fields above my village - leaves will soon burst forth 

Day 14 - Boy, this deciding whether to write in la cuisine (kitchen) or le salon (living room) is getting to be old - and even worse, they are actually the same room... then I remember how lucky we are to have a really large space for the kitchen and living room.  We keep thinking of the folks in the cities like Paris who have an apartment room the same size as this.  If I were really feeling ambitious right now, I could walk across the hall into the office that leads out onto the terrace.  I could even go sit in the guest room upstairs or work in our bedroom or out on the small balcony where we hang the laundry.  Yes, we are very lucky.

So, I'm sitting at the kitchen table while my French partner, Y, gets the ingredients ready for lunch.  I had fun yesterday taking photos of street signs here in Argelès sur Mer and I wondered about the town shield.  My own village, has a shield beneath the

My village has a place de la république too!

clock tower.  

I was looking at photos on my phone that I'd taken when we were last there.  Oh, how I'm missing my little house and neighbors!  It's only a few miles from here.  Usually we swing by there every few days and do things at my house.  But right now going anywhere without essential need is forbidden and fined.  So, my house is locked up and waiting like we all are.  Um... Where was I... oh yeah, the shield.

My own village shield (or Blason, in French) is a very old-fashioned one that is based on the heraldic shield of the Marquis d'Oms - a powerful family in the Middle Ages.   His shield was three stripes of gold and three black stripes.

 The shield that represents my village is the same - with three stripes of sandy gold interspersed

Village shield beneath the clock tower

with three black stripes.  The only difference is that across the top band are three black square diamond shapes.  The villages around my own have similar shields showing that they also were governed by the Oms family.  The family motto - "Noblesse sert comme sert vieux lignage," makes me smile.  "Nobility serves as serves old lineage."  Right.  They couldn't come up with one that was more cool than that?  Just sayin'.

 The village has updated the old style blason and if you look closely at the street signs in my village, you will discover that the village uses a modern blason these days - a Catalan striped shield of red and gold with the image of our landmark clock tower.  It was built during the period that the Eiffel Tower was being constructed in Paris.  So, as many towns and villages did at the time, they built the clock tower in the same shape. 

Instead of being made from iron, they were built from stone and brick. Most of these homage towers disappeared over the years, but the one in my village still stands and the

clock tower

clock rings out the hours and quarter hours. I can see it from the terrace on my village house.  Sigh.  I will see it again, when this is all over.  It's a very small price to pay if it helps stem the spread of the virus.  Luckily, I love to read, write and spend the day making music. I also enjoy discovering the past.  Clues and signs of history embrace us, if we just look for it. 

So, I went looking for it.  The name of Argelès sur mer seems to be based on the fact that this area has a lot of clay in the soil and the word Argile is clay in French.  There was a lot of pottery made here in the Middle Ages.  Next, I looked at the street sign photos that I took with the blasons on it.  Okay - it's a white square diamond shape with a green band at the bottom.  At the center stands a prickly plant in bloom.  Below and at each side are blue fleur-de-lys.  Ah, I recognize that as being related to French royalty.  I'm off to look it up.  

Okay, the prickly plant is the common gorse bush.  Appropriate, there are a lot of them growing wild around here along the roads, rivers, streams and in the fields.  I have no idea what the green is for.

 The fleur de lys usually represent allegiance to French royalty or sometimes to the Pope.  And the town motto?  "Qui s'y frotte s'y pique!"  Love it!  The history searches say it's "Collect Thistles, expect prickles."  That's cute.  A direct translation is less catchy but makes sense too - "He who would rub against this will be pricked!"  That's a lot less stuffy than the Oms family motto.  But I must stop for a moment and help Y get the quiche ready.  He's pre-baked the crusts for 15 minutes and chopped up onion, bell pepper, courgette (zucchini) and ham.  I need to slice up some left over steamed potatoes and help get the quiches ready to bake.  Yes - two, I'll explain when I get back.

Okay - the quiches are baking in the oven.  Two because one is for my omnivore partner and the other is a vegetarian quiche for me.  You know, if you'd told me when I was young, that I'd love egg pie I would have run a mile.  But this is one Y and I have learned together and we love it.  Sometimes he eats vegetarian with me, but other times, I'm happy to make two so he can have ham and cheese in his.

Today, we added sliced potatoes under the cheese and he says it was delicious.  A quiche is really simple - not like a souffle where you have to be careful to keep the eggs all light and not open the oven door suddenly.  You pre-bake the crust, and then set the oven for 190 C (374 F).

Spread a cup or so of something yummy across the bottom - his was braised onions, the smoked ham, the already cooked potato slices left over from yesterday's lunch, then top it with Swiss cheese - about a cup of that.  Mine was sauteed onions, peppers, and courgettes with herbes de Provence topped with the same cheese.  The 4 eggs in each one can be three, and then you whisk them up with a cup and half of milk, a dash of salt and pepper then pour it over the filling.  Into the oven it goes and 30-45 minutes later you can see it's ready from the way the egg is puffing up a little bit and the edges are browning.  

Don't wait too long or it will be hard.  Still edible but not nearly as nice.  The center should still be a little wiggly when you give the pan a gentle shake. My pan is deeper than Y's and is less wide, so the filling is deeper.  His is ready 5-

10 minutes before mine. And if you don't have a crust or want to be gluten-free, you  can even make a crust-less quiche, I googled it to be sure. So, what's the difference between a crustless quiche and a frittata?  It's the milk and the cooking it on the stovetop to start then just browning it in the oven.  So, if you're short on milk - look at frittata recipes and you know what?  Recipes are just sign posts and guidelines.  As one of our Irish friends says

about speed limit signs: They are just advisory. (Recipes, I agree.  Speed limits, no, no, no, dear lady!  You know who you are.  I am pretty sure you are just being funny.  Love your sense of humor, darling girl!)

So that was the big event in our day. Cooking together. I know a lot of you are spending more

A Table! (Come and get it!)

time in the kitchen than ever before.  It's a good thing.  We are feeding our bodies and our souls as we prepare food to keep us all strong.  It's what we need to do to win this battle.

And after the dishes were done, we took our exercise for the day.  It was a walk down to the river where the recycle bins are.  We cleared out our lungs with new fresh air, looked at the beauty that spring is creating even if there are not many visitors in the  village this year to enjoy it with us. We stretched our muscles and did our civic duty of recycling.  There, that's Day 14 done....  

Be of good spirit, believe we will come out of this, for we shall.  The world may never be the same as it was before, but we will go on making it the world we want to see.  Step by step and even if we can't do it hand-in-hand at the moment, we will do it together.  Hang in there, nos amis.  We are thinking of you and sending you good wishes.

Flowers by the Massane River

À demain! We'll check in with you again tomorrow, nos amis!  Link to Day 15

Day 13 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Just Like a Sunday

Bonjour à tous!  (Hello everybody!)  You are helping us so much with your kind, funny, hopeful, and supportive posts and notes.  We hope we can do the same for you.  Here in the south of France it feels just like a Sunday.  But there is a noticeable difference...

Another beautiful day finds the streets empty in France

Day 13 - The clocks went forward this morning in Europe.  We didn't bother to set alarms, we just woke when we weren't asleep anymore. There was no worry about being late to arrive at the cafés.  They have been closed now for 15 days. (That happened two days before the quarantine.)    The sun streamed in as we opened the shutters and it told us it was very late in the morning.  But, as I said, there was no need to rush off for coffee or anything else.  Sundays in the village have always been a bit quiet anyway and today was no exception.  And, we were out of bread again.  (I do know how to make bread but I make it American style.  My partner has yet to develop a taste for it and it may be just too late in our lives for that to happen.)  So, it was off to the boulangerie.

With our required forms in hand, we walked the regulation meter apart.  It was father apart

than that most of the time as I was taking photos for you as we went on our way.  We went

This door in the city wall
leads to an apartment.

down through the rampart wall via the staircase and I took a shot of the second door in the wall.  I've often said hello to the couple who live there.  How groovy is that?  A front door that is inside a city rampart!  I'm guessing their windows are above the stores on the Route Nationale that is at the bottom these stairs.  I always wonder how long these stairs have been here.  Was there a stairway or ramp here in the days when Argelès sur Mer was a walled citadel?  Was this apartment once a room for soldiers on guard against  Pierre IV of Aragon in 1343?  (He took the city in just three days, so somebody was very clever or somebody else had not stocked up sufficiently on essential survival goods, though I doubt that toilet paper was big on the list of things you couldn't live without.)  

We stepped out onto the Route National and continued toward the bakery.  Y, my partner, saw Adrian on the other side of the street carrying a bag of mortar to continue the work on his house.  They discussed the fact that we would all have to do what we could with what we'd bought earlier in the month as the hardware stores now would only let us order supplies "of the first need."  That means things like parts for your water heater or light bulbs.  In other words, only the things that are used to repair or replace the items we need on a daily basis can be ordered.  In yet more words, you can't buy paint or a DIY kit bookshelf at this time.  Thankfully, Adrian and we have enough supplies to keep us busy for a few weeks.  But will it be enough for as long as this lasts?  They discuss this and then we wish each other, "Bonne Journée!" (Have a good day!) and head on up the street.

I wave to the lady above who is on her tiny balcony.  She lives in an apartment across the street from our terrace.  She and I exchange waves on a regular basis when Y and I are eating outside.  She's probably closer to eighty than seventy and has a happy smile.  Her voice is high and I can just hear her say, "Bonne Journée, madame!"  I call out, "Bonjour, madame!   Le

soleil fait du bien aujourd'hui, malgré le vent!"  (The sun feels good today in spite of the wind.)  She nods and says, "No terrace for you youngsters today!"  That makes us smile.  I agree and

Avenue de la Liberation - deserted!

say that the wind, like this quarantine, won't last forever.  We wave again and I walk on to where Y has already bought a baguette and is now looking into the window at the real estate agent.  With Brexit done, there are a lot of houses for sale that once belonged to British holiday makers.  They bought the village houses when owning a vacation home in the south of France was the thing to do.  The glut on the market has really brought prices down around here but it's still not cheap!

I walk on past him and continue to the end of the street.   I look over at the newly created Place Gambetta.  It's nearly deserted.  Instead of children

The new plaza should be filled with
families and joyful sounds.

playing in the plaza, there are only a few pigeons and some solitary people like ourselves.  One lady is wearing a mask.  This is the new normal.  I hope it won't be normal forever!  We walked down the Rue de la Libération.  It's as empty as a ghost town.  This is where we should be on a Sunday, but not just walking for exercise like we are today.  We should be at one of the many cafes here, people watching, writing, drinking espresso and chatting.  Oh well, I know that in time, normal life will return.  The recession that is going to follow this year will be hard.  When you put together the problems caused to the commercial sector, especially the small shops, by the 'gilets jaunes,' the general strike, and now the confinement, the economy is really going to suffer.  But we will survive it.  We will beat this.  We need to be patient and that's not easy.

We keep walking and I take a few shots of the street signs.  We have at least three types:  the

standard blue ones you see everywhere, the village ones that have the crest on it, and the pretty ceramic ones.  I like them all and it's interesting to think about the names.  Some are obvious like - the "Route de ___" with a town name after it, like "Route de Sorède" which eventually takes you to the charming town of Sorède.  "River Street" or to put it in the vernacular, "Rue de la Rivière" is pretty clear too.   Sometimes I see one and think, "that must have been the name of an important family... and now there is no clue here as to why the name wasn't changed like the others."

The Ramparts, or "remparts" in French, are still very much in evidence.  Our house stands on the top of one, but there are many other parts, like this one on the riverside that are still 

The renovation of this tower
 has taken years

standing.  I have to take another photo of the renovations that have been going on for years.  This tower is nearly restored now.  I've walked by it on occasion for almost 17 years now.  It is like we are.  It has had its hard times but it has risen again, thanks to human will, effort, energy, and funding.  We will rise again too.

Then there are a whole packet of them that were clearly renamed after the French Revolution.  Names like "Rue de la Paix" (Peace Street)  "Le Place de la  République" (The Republic Plaza) or "Rue de l’égalité (Equality Street), "Rue de la Liberté."  and those with dates like "Rue du 14 Juillet" are very patriotic and you will find these names in every town.   In the new outlying sections of town where the houses look terribly like computer generated plans of what a villa should look like, the street names are often flowers, birds, trees, famous people, and places. 

I take more photos as we turn onto the street by the river before we head home.  The floods the

village suffered in January are now a distant memory and the waters are low again.  The sky is blue.  People are walking their dogs on the grassy banks and we stand on the bridge  (about two meters apart, of course)  and for a moment we savor the feeling that it is almost a regular Sunday at the end of March.  The yellow daffodils nod in agreement.

It's too cool to stand there long because the Tramontane (north west wind) has begun to gust

across the village with a force that sends my hair flying into my eyes and bites at our faces.  We turn and head back to the center of the village.  The bread we've bought is for lunch and that can't be far off now with us getting up so late!

I hear someone playing a piano.  A bird trills from one of the trees and I see the pale green leaves of spring are making dappled shade on the sidewalk beneath my feet.  There are the voices of a family preparing their lunch.  We're running a bit late ourselves and I've planned a pasta with spinach and walnuts cream sauce.  Tomorrow it

The Music School in le
Place de la République

will be two weeks since this quarantine began.  I know everyone is beginning to chaff at the lack of human contact.  It will be another two weeks minimum.  But in some ways, we are living life that feels just like a Sunday every day.  It's a strange time.  But it's also a time when we can reflect on what it is that's really important.  The noon bell rings, the shops are closed just as they always would be on a Sunday.  We walk home.

It's the second Sunday of our lock-down and we're still here.  We have plans for the future.  That is what hope is all about.  Before I fix lunch, I'm going to think about that for a bit.  I'm thinking of you

too.  I'll upload the photos after we eat and share the morning walk with you as soon as I've eaten.  We need to share our blessings with each other.  I love the photos of nature and family you are all sharing with us via Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.  Thank you!  You lift us up.  And yes, that pantry that we stocked so well over two weeks ago is another blessing.  Sometimes it takes a reminder to see how lucky we are.  We have shelter, we have pasta, tv, and we have you in our lives.  The numbers are grim.  But stay as safe as you can and we will ride out this plague.  Hang on, we are doing this one day at a time.  Ensemble!  (Together!)

À demain, nos amis!  Link to Day 14

Day 12 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Keeping Busy

No cinema or restaurants for distraction for the time being

Hey!  It's just after a rather late lunch and I have opened the laptop.  When France announced that quarantine would be extended until April 15th, the horrific statistics made staying home easy to accept.  At the time of the announcement, nearly 2,000 people had died from CV-19 in this country, with over 35,000  reported cases (& we all know there will be unreported ones), and only 5,700 recovered.  I'm not doing the math. It's too scary. If the scientists are correct, the peak is still some ways off.  So, for those of us confined, we need to find a way to pass the time and avoid over exposure to the news at all costs. That way layeth only stress and heartburn.  So, what's a girl to do when she can't go shopping.... (Actually, this applies just as much to my guy - he loves to shop!)  Well - it's time to play  "let's keep busy!"

Day 12  - Oh mon dieu - un autre quinze jours en avril... et il ya meme quatre jours qui rest du mars... (OMG - another 15 days in April... and there are still 4 left in March...)  While my French may not be very literary, I'm sure you can hear the angst.  I mean, we sorta knew it

would be longer but when I actually think of another 19 days of going no farther than the

Y had five left, I had six.
Drats! I lose again!

bakery, supermarket or pharmacy for a maximum of 1 hour and not getting to hold my boyfriend's hand as we stroll outdoors, it's a lot of days.  Well, we can keep on playing games but how many times can I stand for him to best me at a game of logic?  Grrr!

Then I think of those who are fighting this virus on the front lines like my partner's brother who is a doctor and I know we are the lucky ones to be quarantined and not exposed every working hour to the risk of infection. Silly writer woman, me.  The mere thought of the courage of the medical profession and the people stocking the shelves with food and supplies makes me feel like a real cop-out.  I know staying home is doing our part but it's demoralizing right? 

The lady at our bakery looks exhausted.  A baguette doesn't keep as it has no preservatives, so her team  has to keep making fresh loaves all day.  And we do freeze some to avoid going out for a few days but eventually, we run out again.  At least it's sunny today and it was nice to walk down the nearly empty street to get our "French stick" this morning.  Oh.   Hang on, just thinking about it, I suddenly need to wash my hands again.  Ridiculous, I know.  I scrubbed my hands the moment I got home.  I've been here on the terrace since then.  Don't budge, this will only take a minute... or twenty seconds to be more precise.

With hands that have grown chapped from being constantly washed I'm back.  Did we ever realize how long 20 seconds was??  The discomfort is small potatoes in a bigger picture of what we are trying to keep from becoming a still life.  Side note - when the French talk about

Checking in on the web with our
"pots" which is French for our buddies.

paintings that we call "still life"  they say, "nature morte" (nature dead)  Ugh!  Let's really try to avoid being in that painting!  Like the village, we are taking the quarantine seriously and with the sun shining today, it almost feels like a regular spring day.  We're having coffee on the terrace and we watch videos and laugh at things together on our phones.  I have a feeling lots of other people are doing much the same things as we are.

Finally, I turn on my laptop and think about the special connection we are all sharing right now.  I squint at the screen from beneath my sun hat and there is some muffled dance-house music pounding from a distant window down the street somewhere.  It's not unpleasant.  It's a sign of life and I appreciate it in a way I probably wouldn't have a month ago.

The sound of quiet voices of the couple next store  drifts down as they sit on their unseen terrace.  I hear ice clink in glasses.  They are a young couple with a small son.  They came to care for family and now must stay here until it's over.  Then a voice from that terrace calls down to us, "Profitez du soliel."  A man smiles down at us and I wave back. It is the son-in-law of our neighbor and he chats over the railing with Y, my partner.  I hear him say, "Si nous devons être coincés quelque part, au moins c'est au paradis,"  Yeah, you probably could tell that meant that if they had to get stuck someplace, it least it was in Paradise.  And I think again how lucky I am to be here, even if the virus is ravaging the country.  There is no where else I would rather live.

 Isolation with my romantic man is actually a special time for us.  We've only known each other

Coffee and Mind Games
on the Terrace

a year and our life here began in October.  We suddenly have a lot of time to talk about our childhoods, what we did before we met each other, and some of the books we love.  We share the memes that make us laugh and translate for each other what these say.  Sometimes the humor falls as flat as a souffle when you open the oven door too quickly.  But we'll get better at bridging this language gap, I am sure.  I try to explain the MU puzzle I'm working on but he decides it's just too much like something a math teacher might like and begins to read his magazine.

Everyone here is keeping very busy.  It's just confined to barracks, so to speak. I know people are cleaning, baking, and sewing like never before.  Knitting needles are clacking and those to-do lists are being whittled down.  The neighbor is renovating his adorable old 2CV van and as he works, I can hear him whistling.  The family beyond that is in their salon (living room)  watching a game show where you have to remember the lyrics to the songs to win.  A third neighbor is hanging her laundry out of the window and chatting to another lady who lives across the street from her.  (As I've mentioned, the street is about 3 meters, a little over 3 yards, wide.)  They are having a real gossip and I even hear one laugh.

The French have done this before, not for a long time, but they know how to take these things

Trying out the MU puzzle

seriously and how to keep up their spirits.  They have not forgotten the second World War.  For them, it is still recent in the memories of the grandparents, if not the parents.  And at school, they actually do study history.  Just three weeks ago, we watched a daily history series about President De Gaulle.  We saw the footage of the war, we saw the suffering of the people.  This palls a bit when you compare what we're doing. The enemy may be invisible but it isn't flying overhead to drop bombs on us or marching into town and banging on our doors with guns to round us up for execution.  I'm taking my cue from these brave people.

The "Bricolage" is going on in earnest! (That's DIY in our language.)  Adrian, three doors down, is finishing a long-term project by creating a living space in the upper floors of a previously decrepit building.  Last year he made a small studio apartment on the ground floor and then started a business renting it out to tourists.  This year, he hopes to move in upstairs so he can save the money he spends on rent and keep an eye on things.  It's a big job!  I can hear him sawing the boards that will become the supports for interior walls.  I can see the worry in his eyes as he thinks about how long this quarantine may go on.  You know the people who work in the tourist industry are going to really suffer this year.  But, he is carrying on, because, hey, not doing anything and worrying would be accomplish nothing.  

At the very end of the street, a family is working on a similar project of renovating a ruin into a home, but in their case it won't divided into a rental and an apartment.  They are a lovely couple and have a kid named Merlin.  I just love that!  We got to know them during the last six months as they tore out the old rotten floors, replaced the tile roof and created a terrace.  We can still hear them working on it as we pass by, but for now will have to wait to see what has changed.  This summer will be filled with a lot of "What did you do during the confinement?" discussions. 

Some neighbors have made made videos to pass around and cheer people up.  I've seen humorous ones, sweet ones, very artistic ones.  I laughed so loud at a one earlier that they probably heard me in the main street.  A young man is talking earnestly about how wonderful

ooohhh - lots of wires!

it is to be quarantined with his girlfriend.  Meanwhile, he's holding up cards that say things like

"can't talk, she's in the other room."  "I never knew she was like this!"  "I want to die...."   Then he smiled and said, "Take care everybody.  See you tomorrow."  

And we?  Well, reading and writing take up a lot of our day.  We love music and listening to the radio.  Last month, my partner un-boxed his hi-fi system from the early nineties.  Classic boxy set up!  We listened to France Inter for several weeks and then a ghost in the machine began to make a strange noise from the cassette player.  We couldn't see anything moving but we could hear it and it was irritating.  Being a confident guy he took it apart, found a bit of rubber that had died in the works, removed it and - Presto! The noise stopped.  One day, perhaps we'll get a specialist to replace that bit and make the cassette player good - but we really don't have many of those left anyway so it's cool.  Then he put it back together and asked me to put on a bit of vinyl.  Yes!  The sound was great. And so I danced.

Just do it!

And that's what we need to do.  Keep busy.  Find as much courage as you can and dance with me.  Sing and know that someone here is singing along, as James Blunt almost said in a song.  We're doing this together.  Nobody likes it and we're all looking forward to the time when we can go out and see each other in the streets and not have to stay on the other side of road.  We love hearing what you're doing.  We understand when you feel down and don't worry about sharing that either.  We are thinking of you.  And you know what I believe.  We will get through this together.

A demain, nos amis!  Link to Day 13

Day 11 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: The Joy of Cooking?

Hey!  I've just done all the veggie chopping for lunch, but there is no way I'm missing my date with you, my friends.  I've given control of the kitchen to my partner and have a little time to share happiness with you.  What's the weather like?  Still cold, but at least it's not raining.  I love that you have been sharing how you are coping with this isolation.  We need that right now.  The statistics each day are making us cry but until the lights all go out, we have to sing to each other, send jokes, share whatever it is that is bright and beautiful inside us.  My talent is working with words.  So I reach inside for the best part of me that I can find and I'm smiling at you as I tap away at the laptop.  Dealing with the dread and the fear is like a tug-a-war but we're on the same team so I know we'll get through this together.   

A bit of a dream - view of our village seen from the Alberes. Photo taken by my partner last year.

Day 11 - This quarantine thing is getting a little surreal - I dreamt about planning meals and cooking last night.  Those who know me should find this funny.  I've never been a kitchen goddess before.  This is still very new to me.  I was just out of college when I married a man who loved to cook.  The next thirty-five years I was feted with creative and delicious meals.  I

Learning to cook is a challenge!

was good at baking and fine with frying eggs without breaking them, but for the main dishes, it was down to my husband.  When he passed on, it meant I had to start learning new skills.  Thanks to friends, the internet, and that fabulously Cockney Jamie Oliver, I have slowly begun to catch on.

Anyway I woke up with the firm idea that it had to be Italian food.  I guess it was the two courgettes (read - zucchini squash) and the trio of pretty bell peppers that I'd bought in the supermarket a few days ago.  I thought they would be for a Moroccan Tangine or a French Quiche, but suddenly, I had a hankering for basil, tomatoes, oregano and parmesan cheese. Yeah, I can make a killer quiche these days and our tangine is getting better every time.  Oh the herbs and spices I've added to my man's kitchen cuboard!  He had no idea what a difference having a woman who demands gourmet food on a retired couple's budget was going to make to his eating habits.  And, I'm pretty sure he likes it.  "Je l'aime quand on cuisine ensemble," he's told me on a number of occasions.  (I like when we cook together) And he really is talking about making meals.  SERIOUSLY.  Stop smiling.  Ah heck!  Actually, let's smile together about that.

So, it had to be Italian style food for lunch today.  When I lived in the States, the big meal of the day was always dinner.  Lunch, especially when I was teaching, was a quick fix to get through

But it's getting easier

the busy afternoon.  It was usually a large sandwich, something to go with it, like soup or crunchy carrot sticks, a jumbo thermos of coffee, and an apple.  I often found myself finishing it during recess or after school as the thirty minutes for lunch were not long enough once I'd taken the kiddos to the cafeteria and checked the mail cubby in the office.  

When I joined the dating sites, practically the first question I would ask prospective men was, "Do you cook?"  Well, as fate would have it, the guy who won my heart has about the same level of skill in the kitchen as I do.  And that's not so bad.  He'd been working in Paris for years and so his go-to lunch was often a brasserie.  I'd been living on salads and sandwiches.  Together, we have spent a year learning how to put meals together that please our palates, our budget, and our sense of joy.  We now have a dozen

And now we're getting the hang of it!

favorites and we're working on new ones all the time.  The rushed lunches have become a thing of the past.  I have learned to eat like a Frenchwoman.  A princess's breakfast, a queen's lunch, and a pauper's supper.  Well that's my take on the old saying. (Wink!)  

Italian veggies on rice
with Veggie Chick nuggets!

The thing is, we're all having to cook right now.  The quarantine and the closed restaurants have given us the need to eat at home.  And I hope everyone is being creative with whatever is in the cupboard.  My favorite chefs always seem to think I'll have a lime or a bit of lemon grass at hand.  As if!    So instead, we're doing what I suspect a lot of people are doing. throwing out preconceived ideas about following set recipes and making combinations with what we actually have in the cupboard.  I have been looking at those cans of food, the dry pastas, rice, and other grains in our "garde-manger" (pantry) and trying to think how they can be used with what is in the freezer and the fridge.

It's a new adventure.  One of the best discoveries this winter was a soup recipe that Y's sister in law shared.  We call it Carol's Soup in her honor.  It's so simple.  One onion, braised.  Half a cabbage, two big potatoes and two

Carol's soup - It's light and delicious!

carrots all chopped.  Into the pressure cooker with two bullion sachets, water to the max line and a bit of salt and pepper.  Forty minutes later we open the cooked veggies and carefully use the immersion blender to blend and puree it into a velvety soup.  It makes enough for ten people!  And so it makes our entree dish for several days. Oh, and speaking of food.... lunch is ready!

Let's keep on sharing, keep on caring.  I hope you are eating well and discovering stuff in the back of your cupboards you had nearly forgotten you'd bought.  I'll check in with you tomorrow and tell you all the useless trivia that pops into my head - and I'll be wishing you well And... even when we're all down to spaghetti and oil with dry parsley for dinner we'll say - Bon appetit!

Another dreamy memory - the days when we would jump on a plane to England
and return to this lovely scene of Carcassonne, the walled citadel.

A demain, nos amis!  Link to Day 12

Day 10 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Ordinary Life

Bonjour and Good morning you absolutely beautiful folks who are staying at home!

Café life has become a fond memory for now

You know what?  You make my day.  Whether it's by reading our posts here, commenting, leaving us notes on Facebook, Messenger, Instagram, Twitter, and those emails with memes that make us laugh, videos that inspire, and best of all - photos from your daily lives, you are lifting us up.  And so today, I hope I can do a little lifting for you.  Come into an ordinary day under quarantine.  How lucky we are to have a shelter during this storm and you for company!

Day 10 - After yesterday's seriously blunt dispatch on the gravity of this epidemic, I woke up

Rain, rain go away.. oh heck!
Just get on with it!

and said, "Gotta think about positive things today.  We're all up to our ears in bad news." (Right, maybe I used a French word for bad news, you know, like MERDE.)  My partner, Y opened the  shutters and it was raining!  Hard. Ugh.  I tried to think positive and stayed in bed.  No, not for the day, just long enough to check the messages and look at the headlines.  That definitely made me want to stop doing that and I pulled myself to a sitting position.  I heard the shower running and knew I'd better get going on my morning exercises.

My brain is foggy first thing in the morning.  The kids in my class could have told you, "Never go near the teacher until she'd finished her coffee and the morning quiet routine is done."  Little did they know that all those exercises they had to do first thing in the morning were actually designed not only to make them review the previous lessons

The headline: The Wave
Batters Paris

and establish the habit of routine tasks being done first - the routine was to help my foggy brain stay on task and get the roll taken, verify that homework was done and on the desk, get my head around the day's lessons to come, and breathe.  Now that I'm retired and a writer, I have my own exercise routine to keep me focused.  And it definitely makes me breathe.  I lay there a few more seconds not wanting to brave the cold just yet.

The inner dialogue prompted me, "What was that last thought when you finished reading and turned off the light?"  I wondered.  "No," my inner thoughts chided me, "Not the MU problem presented by Hofstadter... that clever writer."  Oh yeah, I remember - sometime between doing the blog, working on the novel, reading the news, fixing meals with my partner, drinking lots of hot herbal tea, doing exercises, playing with the cat to give her some exercise, and getting a bit of housework in, I'd take stock of the fridge and pantry.  Especially the meat my partner buys for his main dishes.  I've never had to deal with it, but I'm pretty sure those dates on the packages probably are important.  Most of my vegetarian stuff will just lose it's pretty sheen or consistency.  Most of it is fine after that date thing.  I've proven it many times when I was living alone.

Okay - I had my plan.  Anyway, it was time to exercise, shower, and join Y for breakfast.  I realized that there was something different when I saw that he hadn't eaten the tip off the

Baguette with and without
"Le Crouton."

baguette.  Now that is almost downright un-French!  But when I asked him about it, he

said, "It's glacial outside.  I had to keep my hands in my pockets!  Oh, that explained it.  I made up for it by breaking off the "Crouton"  as it it called and ate it right away.  It might be bad luck not to, you know.  (Oh yeah, I loved it too when I realized where we'd gotten the word crouton from!)  Gotta keep up these traditions.  The newspaper was next to my cereal bowl.  I read it while I savored my mug of coffee.  As I might have predicted, the news was not on my list of "makes me happy" today. 

So I decided to play with the cat.  The wind-up mouse proved to be a big hit.  It's always amusing to find that the simplest toys make her list.  A piece of wadded up paper, an empty bag or box, the price tag hanging from a new kitchen whisk.  Life if full of amazing things if you are a cat.  More than a dozen times I have bought something whiz-bang exciting that the

Someone loves to play

manufacturers say cats will love.  And a few times she is interested - for about two days.  Only two have actually worked out.  The boll trapped in the circle with a scratching surface at the center and the Shiny bird feathers on a fishing pole.  Those are both at my village house well outside the kilometer range of this confinement with my sweetheart.  I saw this toy at the supermarket for 2 euros on Tuesday and thought, it's worth a try.  And yes, she loves it.  Just the sound of me winding it up makes her eyes dilate in anticipation.  It's exercise form me too as I have to monitor and wind it up every few minutes.  Finally, the mouse was chased down the stairs and is somewhere in the garage now.  I let it be.

Then I took stock.  I made lists with dates and began a rough outline of what we would have for our lunches and dinners until the end of the month.  And it's amazing the variety of spices and

Taking Stock and
Planning Meals

packets of things that are stored in the cupboards.  I'll have to improvise on the veggies and

meat sub that will go into that Pad Thai kit, but mmmm, it does look tempting.  As for serving it on Asian noodles, I'm sure spaghetti will do just fine.  However, today, we needed a main dish and it had to be quick.  I'd spent too long reading the paper, playing with the cat and taking stock.  It was nearly 13:00.  I looked at my list.  There were four large carrots in the veggie bin.  Yannick had the last of his roasted chicken in herbes de Provence to finish off and there were a few slices of two bell peppers and two eggs left in last week's carton.  The sesame seeds in the cupboard had reminded me how much we love glazed sesame carrots.  So, I scrambled my eggs with onion, bell pepper, and salsa while Y put his chicken in the over to get hot.  Then he peeled the carrots for me and worked on making our salad for the entree.

I took my scrambled eggs off the burner and put on a lid to keep them warm.  I thin sliced the

carrots  and heated oil in a sauce pan as he set the table.  The carrots went into the hot pan and

Glazed sesame carrots with a bit of
hot pepper - simple and tasty.

I sautéed them for a few moments, then added the magic ingredients:  something sweet (today it's maple syrup), something Piquanté (today it's pureed hot peppers - be sparing with it!)  a bit of dry mustard  and ground black pepper sprinkled across the top, and sesame seeds.  Next, I added a half cup of water, stirred it all up and covered the pan to let it simmer.  I turned down the heat to low-middle and joined my partner at the table.

We enjoyed the salad (he'd added Tabouli with a dash of curry to a traditional green mix then

adorned it with black Greek olives and raisins)  and discussed our plans for the house, when we

though we might do some yoga today (darling, if you will vacuum the floor, I'll descale the shower...)  and whether the rain had stopped. (It hadn't).  He got up and washed the salad bowl and I left the table to put my eggs back on low.  The carrots were cooked and almost ready to be a side dish. I took off the lid and set the burner on 9.  The water sizzled.  I added another drizzle of maple syrup  (if you don't have that - honey, brown sugar, corn syrup, or even white sugar in a pinch will do!)  

The water evaporated quickly and I added another dash of oil as I now flipped the carrots continuously.  (As a person who believes in buying special seasonings, oils and vinegar when I

Déjeuner - la salade et plat principale

can, I have a small reserve of sesame oil, but regular oil will do.)  I kept at it until I saw the first signs of braising - oh the smell is incredible!  I turned off the heat and kept turning the carrots.  The glaze was now even and there were many bits of almost burned sugar decorating the edges of the carrots.  We quickly put our main course on our plates and divided the carrots.  BLISS...  I'm having my coffee now as I write this to you.  He's done the dishes.  (Oh yeah, now that is one sexy quality, I assure you!!)  The cat is asleep in her basket.  

Soon, Y will vacuum and I will give the shower glass that treatment to keep the limescale away. 

I do love the results even if I don't love cleaning...  We'll turn on YouTube and do our Yoga. together.  I may fall over if I have to stand on one leg for too long, but we will laugh.  There will be more hot tea.  I'll work on the third Cinnamon Sands Academy Book.  (Those kids on Mars think they have it tough living under a domed city... at least they have parks to go out and play in!)

I think we'll build a fire on the hearth this afternoon, it's still rainy and feels unseasonably cold (10 Celsius/50 Fahrenheit) for the south of France.  And then there will be dinner - just like I've

Why does one of my books have
a different sized cover???

put down in the plan.  We'll have "Carol's Soup" as named for our sister-in-law who shared her recipe and then do our Carnivore/Vegetarian main dishes separately but eat together.  (I love this guy and fortunately for us I'm not that kind of Vegetarian.  I accept everybody's right to eat the way they choose.)  There will be baguette, there will be cheese and inexpensive table wine from a box.  We will binge watch our favorite zombie series until late and then read until midnight.  And it will have been another, very ordinary, very beautiful day under a cloud filled and rainy sky amidst reports that are much scarier than the zombies.  And we will have made it through Day 10 of the quarantine.  Yesterday, 231 people in France didn't have that chance.  They died from CV-19.  

Yeah, it's time to breathe deeply and gear up for the day.  I'm not talking about some metaphysical yoga thing here.  I mean take stock.  It's what we all need to do now.  The morning has come and our lives need a new routine in order to use this gift of time that has been imposed on us.  So breathe both physically and mentally - try to breathe in the good energy that your body and mind needs.  Face this challenge calmly and let's do it!  Ready, Set, GO!

How I envision the end of the day

À demain, nos amis!  Link to DAY 11