Day 55 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Tomorrow - the Day of Liberation

Salut les amis, pour la dernière fois dans cette serie de blogs! (Hi friends, for the last time in this series of blogs.) When midnight strikes tonight the lock-down in France will end. I will stop writing for a while after this post. I'm sure after so many weeks, that makes you smile for us. We are going to be freed from this "Confinement" tomorrow. It's supposed to rain, but I think I'll be doing a happy dance anyway!

View from the vineyards looking at Argeles sur mer and St. Cyprien

Day 55 - We both woke up early and listened to the rain patter on the roof. Eventually, I rose

The planter by Chez Elizabeth
a green grocery in Argelès.

and rolled up the shutters. "Je vais me lever dans dix secondes," promised Y, my French partner. I knew that his "I will get up in 10 seconds" meant nothing of the kind and so I assured him that that there was no need to hurry. "C'est dimanche, prends ton temps." (It's Sunday, take your time.) I put on The Commodores singing "Easy like Sunday Morning," and headed downstairs for breakfast. He was only minutes in catching up. We handed our phones back and forth so we could share the posts of all our friends telling us their plans for tomorrow. Nobody was too worried about the weather. All they could think about was how great it would be to leave the paperwork behind. No more one hour limit on how long we can stay out! 

 I think back on my decision to shelter at my partner's house in Argelès sur mer instead of my village of 1,000 people with only a tiny épicerie. I knew I'd end up driving to the grocery store a lot because the little store only carries fresh fruit and veg. What if we needed a pharmacy? The doctor? How many times could we walk around my tiny village before it got to be a drag? We wanted to be together and here, there were more options for bread and basic supplies. 

I know some of my friends worried that this would test our new relationship to breaking point. I laughed and said I could always grab my cat, the guitar, and my suitcase and risk the 375 euro fine to drive to my place if that happened.  We had taken our time last year getting to know each other. In October, we finally decided to share a life full-time. We smiled through the 48 hours of international travel by bus, train, and plane that culminated in 30 days of staying with various in-laws. I was pretty sure I'd chosen the right guy

I love my village but it is small!

with whom to weather the pandemic storm. 

 Tomorrow makes eight weeks since the French government announced that we should stay home excepting one hour a day to deal with basic needs inside a perimeter of a kilometer from the house, I told Y that I intended to write a blog post for each day we had to be under "Lock-down." I felt I needed to do something structured with our time at home. I planned to write about the news from France.  But the moment I began, I realized that wasn't what I wanted to share. Any news outlet could tell you the news. Only I could share the intimacy of a mixed culture new life of two people very much in love faced with a life of confinement while the Covid-19 pandemic raged. And so that is what I did.

  I never expected to be doing this for 55 days! I look back now and see that I have shared almost 400 photos with you during these daily musings. I told you on the first day that I wanted to share the positive and that as the size of our world contracted, we would stay in each other's lives this way. It has been an interesting journey. We have, to quote the fantastic comedian, Carrie Snow, "Gone through the fire, come out with a tan." Because of you, we are still feeling connected and loved. We care about you too.

The "confinement" has been focused on the goal of keeping the health system from being

A Catalan and a French flag.

overloaded. Our part of France has succeeded in that. Today, in the department P.O. there is no one in the ICU with Covid-19. That tells me we have slowed it down to the point where it makes sense to lift the quarantine. The deaths in all of the country yesterday totaled 80 and today the news told us the total had fallen again. 

The north of the country has been harder hit, and so although they are coming out of quarantine, they have been told to be very careful tomorrow and in the days to come.  It is inevitable that some people will become infected even as they try to be careful. The government warns us that a spike in cases is inevitable but that if we can avoid an overwhelming second wave, the health services are ready. We have braced for a slow return to life. The shops will open. We will distance ourselves from others. There will be hand sanitizer and masks. These are not to be feared. They are all signs of love.

I know the things we will miss the most in our far-flung corner of Catalan France are the festivals and closeness that summer usually brings. Our economy has been battered by the lack

I love our agricultural landscape!

of tourism and will be until a solution is found. Our friends with cafes, hotels, boutiques, camp grounds, bars, and restaurants are worried sick that they won't make it through this year. They echo the thoughts of every worker in France. The markets may or may not open. The farmers are feeling the lack of sales and even employees to plant and harvest the crops.

We will keep on having to make do with "Cafe Y and R" for the next month at the very least. He and I know we are among the lucky ones. We have learned how strong our love is these last two months. We've spent hours hanging out together just reading and writing. We've made silly videos and played at being kids together. Yesterday we culminated our antics by re-creating an avant-garde version of Michelangelo's Vitruvian Man. No, it's not for the blog. We were just having fun.

And now it's the last afternoon. He's busy giving the whole house one last vacuuming and I made Soupe Carole earlier so that

We'll always have each other - and espresso!

tomorrow we don't need to think about cooking. (Seems like I was telling you about that soup when it all began. Still a great soup for pennies a bowl.) I'm writing this final blog to you. I love doing this but the other has not made much progress, so it's time I applied myself to my novels and author's website that needs a re-vamp. I'm sure I'll blog again when there is something beautiful to share with you. Thank you for being so supportive! We have loved your comments, emails, Facebook posts and messages. 

This will not be a summer of dancing "La Sardane" - the traditional Catalan dance - hand in hand to celebrate the circle of life. It is a time to keep putting one foot in front of another. This is the

La Sardane in my little village.

year to keep our heads above water, meditate on the good things we do have, and even mourn the lifestyle we have put aside for the sake of everyone we love. However, tomorrow, Y and I will not be grieving. (He'll do that later when he realizes that the beaches are still closed!) No, tomorrow we will feel elation when we step out of the house without the restrictions of the last 55 days. Although, he's not really a guy for dancing, there are always exceptions.

La Sardane in Argelès sur Mer.

I'm pretty sure that we will be dancing with you in our hearts.

And what of "The Day After?" I don't know. I only know that tomorrow is nearly here. It's the next step. We are all hoping that a solution is found for treating people and that an immunity or vaccine arrives. Whatever else we do now - we will remember how precious every day is and how important every person is. There are no "expendable" people in our lives. Keep on staying safe. Keep on sharing your thoughts when you can. The French will be going outside tomorrow and they will be free. I will be smiling behind my mask as I think about the fact that this quarantine has proven that even though they protest and demonstrate about nearly everything when the chips were down, a huge part of the population followed the rules and the numbers fell. It works when we all work together!

 And although there will be no blog, we will be thinking of you! Adieu jusqu’à ce que nous nous revoyions, nos chers, chers amis. (Farewell, until we meet again, our dear, dear friends.)

The sun rises over the Albères foothills. Beyond them lies Spain.

day 54 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Anticipation

Bonjour nos amis! (Hello our friends!)  I have happy butterflies in my heart as I think about the end of the lock-down. But I can hear my dad's advice to the young me which was, "Nothing is ever as good or as bad as you think it is going to be." The years have proved him right. So, when I'm looking forward to something, I try to be realistic and remember to just enjoy it and not feel let down if it's not as fantastic as I've been thinking it will be. Conversely, I remind myself that the dental work will not kill me and to just be brave. Eight weeks ago, we went into confinement. We will soon be free. Anticipation is growing. 

Where I hope to be on "D-day" is in my little village after 55 days away.

Day 54 - The excitement about what the French are calling "le jour de de-confinement" or "le jour de liberation" is building. I'm calling it "D-day." Ever since the day we began this people spoke of what they would do when it was over. The most common phrase was "We'll share a good cold

Espresso to go from Arnaud's this morning.
Will this really be the new normal?

beer with friends at the brasserie" or "Raise a glass of wine in a cafe."  One friend fervently vowed, "Champagne!" If my parents still lived in Paris, my mom would have exclaimed, "Lunch at Maxim's." My French partner, Y planned for us to sit at a sidewalk cafe, soak up the sunshine, drink espresso, and watch people go by.  It is one of our favorite past-times, especially on market days. I know now that we had a misplaced fairy-tale hope that life would miraculously return to normal.  But "D-day" is real. Things will change on Monday.

We woke up to the last weekend of confinement to a grey, cloud-covered sky. The wind blew in a cold front last night, but I finished the painting before

Réouverture 11 mai!!!

bedtime so that I'd be finished with my project. I wanted to be free in the morning to go out with my partner and see how the village was preparing for next week's liberation. It didn't disappoint us. There were more people on the street than we'd seen since the lock-down began.  Most people wore masks. Everyone was careful to leave plenty of space for those they passed. It was lovely to see signs in windows that announced "Re-Opening May 11th!" I know the shop-keepers really need our business. We will do our best to spend the money we haven't spent on cafes. After all the workouts at our house, I plan on getting a second exercise mat so that Y doesn't keep stealing mine when he works out and not putting it back where I expect it to be. And besides, it would be nice to each have a good mat for yoga instead of one of us working from the rug. I think he is going to buy an electric bike in hopes that by mid-summer we can take our surfing gear to the beach again. It's a lovely dream. Don't wake us up.

The clouds didn't matter. Neighbors and friends were out and about. It was nice to say hello, even from a distance of 6 feet. Some businesses have figured out how to do take away on the street. Arnaud, who runs an upmarket gourmet coffee shop with sweet baked treats to die-for, whole coffee beans and high-end loose-leaf teas for sale, has realized he can do some business without opening the cafe. He's started doing take away dinners. Last week was Couscous and this week it's Tanjine. Y said the Couscous was great. I can't say since it wasn't vegetarian fare but I know how good the muffins always have been, so I'm not surprised that Arnaud can make a jamming dinner. Today he had take-away coffee for sale and if I wasn't being careful about the confinement calorie intake, there were his special shortbread cookies. Like everyone, we are moving less at the moment, so I will wait until next week to indulge in sweets!

We bought espressos and wandered down to the bakery for bread. Y's brother and sister-in-law were on their way home and so we finally got to see them and say hi. In the days and months

No beaches for a while.

"Before the Virus" we met them every Saturday in the cafe. We haven't really seen them since they live outside the kilometer limit. But today they were on business for next week's reopening and so were in the village. It was really nice to have this tiny sliver of normality return though, of course, we stood 6 feet apart and made hand signals of hearts and kisses to represent the "bisous" (those air kisses we usually exchange in France with the ones we like.) We couldn't talk for more than a few minutes today. It was only an anticipation of what is to come. Today we carried our "attestations" stating the time we'd left our houses and had to return within an hour. We stayed inside our limits. 

But soon it will be "D-day" and that's only a day and a night away as I write this to you.

Will my car look like that when I go
to get it in the parking lot after all this time?

Ironically, it may rain. The weather report today threatened us with that. We won't care. Being allowed to go out of the house without a time and distance limit will feel like freedom. We have our plan, as I'm sure everyone does. It won't be a trip to the beach - because just like the restaurants, cafes, and cinemas, it will still be closed. It won't be into the city of Perpignan. That can wait. We take my car and go to my house to open the windows (even if it's raining!) and to check on my neighbors.  I can hardly wait to see my village. I may even shed tears - but they will be happy ones.

We are full of anticipation. And while it may not be as good as we'd imagined the day of liberation would be, my real hope is that the aftermath - the second wave - will not be as bad as worry it will be. We're going to take it slow. We're going to keep to the rules and do our very best to avoid adding to the load on the

We won't be at the cafe for a while yet - but we have a dream!

health care systems. Here's to the words that they've mentioned a lot on TV lately, "Une nation libre" - a free nation. And I'm looking forward and wishing we will once again have "Un monde libre" - a free world.  Now there's something to anticipate. And while it may not be perfect or like it was for a long time to come, it's worth working to make it happen - Together.

À demain les amis! (Until tomorrow friends!)
Link to Day 55 the last day of confinement!

Day 53 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Music in the Air

Salut, les amis! (Hi Friends!)  It's May the 8th. I saw a Tricolore (French) flag hanging from a neighbor's window to celebrate the day Germany capitulated in 1945. Is it my imagination, or is there more hustle in the bustle of the village as we count down the last three days?

A flower festival at Valmy.
 I'm sure there was romantic music in the air
when we went there - or was it just my imagination?

Day 53 - Today, the first post I saw online said, "Soon there will be singing until the sun sets." Well, it was written in Catalan and read, "Pronto sera el canto hasta la noche," which many of you will agree is the same in Spanish. With the the whole of France waiting for Monday's de-confinement there really isn't much to report as far as the virus goes. The numbers fell again

Today it feels like happy times in my garden.

yesterday with recorded deaths being 178. The mood in the streets is good. But the reference to music made a lot of sense.

Once again, there is happy music drifting in from the neighbor's windows. I decided to leave our windows open and enjoy theirs. After all, I often sit in the stairwell to play my guitar and sing. (The acoustics there are great!) No one complains about me which is kind. Sometimes I recognize a song. But mostly, I have no idea what it is. I ask when I get the chance. As a result, I've added albums by Florent Pagny and Julien Doré. More will follow, I predict. Speaking of French music...

When I began dating the charming Frenchman I now live with, I was just putting the finishing touches on a romance novel that starred... yes, a Frenchman. I was searching for a romantic song to use as "our song" for the couple in the book. Until I met Y, I tended to listen to music known as "Classic French" - you know, Edith Piaf, Maurice Chevalier, Charles Trenet, and Charles

May is when the artichokes arrive - I grew these!
The variety is called "Purple of Perpignan."

Aznevour. This is not unlike listening to Doris Day, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, or Perry Como. (Yeah, I can enjoy that too, in moderation.) Of course I'd seen and heard a lot of Johnny Halliday on TV and radio. I have a feeling it is not permitted to live in France for years and not be aware of the late, great "French Elvis."  

Then I met this guy. We were nearly the same age and both listed music as something we loved. I made the mistake of letting him see my French Music Playlist. He said with a twisted smile of amused amazement, "C'est vraiment les années cinquante." (Literally "It's really the 50's" but I can see that he meant "It's a bit old-school").  I knew he was worried about my tastes as he added, "I really cannot stand the timbre of Edith Piaf's voice." 

As a person addicted to music from my past, I was ignorant of any French rock or pop music. I'd heard a bit of rap but it was a turn off. I didn't want to tell him that I only had heard a

In May the bougainvilleas bloom.

couple of 80's songs by French singer Jean-Jacques Goldman (who has recently retired and is darn good too). My slight acquaintance with that was because he wrote a song and worked hard to support the "restos du cœur" a charity that provides meals for those in need. It's not meals on wheels - it's an incredible project that collects the leftover goods after the street markets close and donations made to food banks. This is coordinated with restaurants and brasseries that volunteer to make the meals. Pretty cool.

Anyway, I didn't want him to realize how little I knew. I hurriedly tapped my "Daytime Rock" music and he listened to my English language playlist - having quickly scrolled past my Andy William playlist!  His expression showed relief that it did not sound like Edith & co. We both liked the Beatles, Bowie, The Stones, and Queen. I was surprised that he'd never heard of the Eagles, Ed Sheeran, or even James Blunt. 

It just shows you how language-centric each of us tends to be. We think of the big rock stars as "international" because they play concerts everywhere.  (or did before this year!) and although they get air-time on the streams and radio, the person who speaks another language really only hears the sound. At least now, the internet translates the meanings for us all. I can tell you it is hard to understand all the words being sung in my second language. 

Next, my new boyfriend shared his playlists.  His music sounded a lot like my own favorites from the 60s, 70s, and 80s. I like his lists, but I just hear the music and not much of the words. I

An early date, I wrote, he read,
and there was music.

look up the lyrics for the ones I really like. Sometimes I leave the words on the screen and try to sing along. Yeah - not making a video of that! The first one he played for me was "La Vie est Belle" - Life is beautiful by Indochine. The first line sold me on them and the song. It is in French, bien sûr but what it says is, "I was born here to be only with you." I could understand it and it was extremely romantic. Yes, I used it in the book! 

We continue to listen to music together. We trade off each other's playlists so we have both languages in our ears. The confinement has meant we play a lot more every day, though now as I write to you and he does his accounts, it is only the music of others we can hear drifting in. 

It's Day 53 and VE day -Victory in Europe. This national holiday is usually just called,"le 8

Flags on the Mairie's in Perpignan

mai, 1945,  le Jour de la Libération, or le Jour du Victoire." It was strange to see Macron lay the wreath under the Arc de Triomphe in Paris without the crowds. The usual choir was reduced to four to sing the national anthem but not the traditional Chant des Partisans (Here is very moving video of it. Has cute guys and a nice bit of background as well.) Rather than line the streets, it was suggested that people hang flags from their windows. The French president maintained the correct distances from the few soldiers and they nodded instead of the warm handshakes I watched them exchange last year. He used anti-bacterial gel after writing in the official book. It is a very different world. 

Normally Sunday would be a day of celebration but the country will still be on lock-down. I suspect the day we will all celebrate here will be Monday, the 11th, the day of de-confinement - our modern day of liberation. 

And so, Day 53 is nearly done. We have two days to go. I know everyone feels a bit nervous about the idea of being in public again. It won't be perfect but we'll do our best. I believe that everyone I know

For now the beach is off-limits -
but Y is hoping that wind-surfing will be allowed!

and love is going to be careful. That's all we can do but with enough of us doing the right thing, we're going to get there. I believe in that and I believe in you. Stay safe!
A demain, les amis! (Until tomorrow, friends!)

Link to Day 54

Day 52 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Checklists

Salut, les amis! (Hi Friends!)  Remember all those plans we made for doing projects when this all began? The windows are all wide open and so are the doors. Is it really that hot? Nope. I need the air! It's time to check one of my projects off of the checklist. It's a short meditation today  - bet that makes you smile!

View of Canigou from the Vineyard above the village

The first post I saw on FB this morning read, "Bienvenue a été!" (Welcome to summer!) While there is still a month to go until summer is officially here, I knew what our friend meant. I can

This is how close we all are!
A photo taken from my roof. 

smell the warm tarmac out in the street as I sit at the laptop in the kitchen and write to you. It is a welcome feeling after the weeks of grey or wet weather. I'm especially happy about the lack of rain at the moment as I have a few DIY tasks to do that need dry air and an open house. I just hope it will last for a few more days. Fingers crossed! As I type this, I can hear three children making a lot of racket with a couple of old bicycles and a skateboard. I don't mind. It's another sign that life goes on even under quarantine. Our across the street neighbor is telling her husband something in a rather high and loud voice. She's a bit deaf and so speaks louder than he needs her to, but he's good-humored about it. I can't tell what it is as I think it's in Catalan. I've only managed to learn to say "Bon dia!" (Hello) and Adéu (Goodbye) which sounds like Ah-day-oh to me.  It's enough to make them both smile when I try to use the words. From that moment on, though, I am lost. It never seems to bother anyone as long as we all smile.

If you cannot bear to have a part of other people's lives enter your life from day to day, and to share your own with them, then French village life is not for you. In my own village the road is about three yards wide. When I open my shutters I often end up saying "Bonjour," to Marlene across the street as she stands on her balcony in the mornings to have her first cigarette. Thankfully the breeze blows down from the church that is behind my house and sweeps the smoke away from my side of the street. 

When I lunch on my terrace,
I have privacy and a view.

The family on the corner are usually getting into the car to hurry off to work but they look up and wave then call out, "Ca va?" (How's it going?) I nod vigorously and yell back, "Ca va!" (It's going {well}). These are the little things I love about my village. There is an intimacy we share after all these years of windows and doors that face one another. It's just like that. I am content with the rituals. Sometimes Dani is in front of her house sweeping the gutter and often has already done mine as well! When I say I will do it, she protests that it is her geraniums that filled both of our gutters with flowers. That's true. But you can bet there are summer mornings when I get up earlier so I could be the one to sweep it!  The children next door on the other side are sweet. Don't tell the older boy I said that - he's thirteen this year. I have a feeling it would be un-cool to be called sweet by "la dame americaine!" His little sister is precious and the last time I saw her, she ran up to hug me. I reflect on the fact that the next time I see her, we will have to keep our distance. I hope to goodness that one day life can be like that again, but I do have doubts. Here in the village where we are spending the lock-down, everyone we know is being extremely conscientious about following good social distancing.

And speaking of life in this village. We got up extra early because we have arranged a morning appointment. When breakfast was finished I said I'd do the dishes since I was staying at home. Y, my French partner, loaded the attestation app in his phone, took his id, the papers for the car

Haven't lifted the protective tape yet,
but it already feels better!

and went off to find his vehicle. For the first time in weeks it was going somewhere! The Service Station that does his "renovation" opened a few days ago. Since it was time for his car to have it's annual service over a month ago, he took the first appointment that was offered. I think he had a happy swagger to his step at this opportunity to go out on a sunny day and not be restricted to only an hour, because the work would take longer than that. 

I got my painting clothes on and set out all the gear. It was time to paint that hand railing in the art-Deco curved stairwell. I know I sorta gave the impression that I'd do it eventually. But those who know me are well aware that once I've decided to tackle a project, I can't really let it rest until its done. The new pot of paint was calling my name. Besides, painting to decorate the house is my super-power.

The cat came over, took one look, yawned as if to say, "Not again!" then went back to bed. This was fine by me. I didn't need any distractions while I concentrated on not overloading the brush, keeping an eye on what I was painting, and not tumbling down the stairs as I worked. Of course, as anyone who has done decorating knows, the most important part of painting is preparation. I have an idea that probably applies to almost

Spring inspires us to do more.

anything we do in life! 

Yesterday, Y sanded down the old paint that was chipped and torn all over the place. Even more importantly, he removed the buildup of time that makes the surface become permanently grimy no matter how much cleaning one does. The taping of the bars where they enter the plaster took a lot of time, but two hours later, I was very happy with the results of the first coat. Tomorrow I can give it another coat and see what we think.  There is a second staircase to deal with in the next few days, but the straight bar should make that an easier job. It still needs sanding, so for the day, I was finished with my tasks.

I was about to text my partner with a photo and say that it was safe for him to come home again, when I heard him call out, 'allo! from out in the street. Yeah, it's a village house, I could hear him, no problem. He admired the new paint and I really felt great. I was as happy as he was that his car is now up-to-date and at a cost that was less than he'd budgeted. So we prepared our lunch, ate and talked about how good it was to have checked a few things off the "to-do" list. We wondered if the energy we felt was the effect of approaching freedom from quarantine or the lovely spring weather. Perhaps, we decided, is was a bit of both. We did the dishes and had our coffee.  I told him that I wanted to sit down to my blog and he said he had some reading he wanted to do. It's still early in the afternoon. Later, we will hear the news about what will happen on Monday when we are released from this confinement. But for now, the sunshine is calling me. I've had my chance to share with you and that is always lovely.  Now I'm going out to sit on the terrace and read with my guy. 

So, if you have a list, and I expect you do, I wish you the energy and possibility to check one or more

The house next door is well maintained, the one beyond that might need a bit of DIY!!

of those "to-do" tasks off before the end of the confinement. If you are already free, then perhaps you can check off a few before the end of the month. However, it's not compulsory! Don't let it get you down. It's easy to make the lists but checking things off can be a pain. Sometimes, if I start to get depressed by how many things are on the list, I take the list and throw it out.  It's allowed. 
A demain, mes amis! (Until tomorrow, my friends!). Link to day 53

Day 51 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Cherry Festival Time

Salut à tous! (Hi all!) The weather is warm as I sit down to write. Y is working on some DIY. That means I have plenty of time to share a happy day memory with you that takes place in a beautiful little town that is known as the "Cherry Capital of France!"

The cherry market at Ceret - last year. This year is has been cancelled.

Day 51 -We ate breakfast and it's now just after lunch. My French partner, Y, has gone to sand the railings of the art-déco staircase. Later on - like tomorrow or the day after - I will paint them with a gleaming black finish. I remember buying the paint at the start of this lock-down. I told him it would give us

The French Gate

something to do while we were confined. It's nice that we never really ran out of day-to-day things to do that made us happy. He's not really keen on the idea of painting as it turns out (which is why he is going to do the prep and I will do the painting) but suddenly we both realized that if we didn't do it now, we'd probably never do it. Or at least not anytime soon - it will get too hot in the months to come. I had suggested I'd help him do this last year when we first met. The house was empty except for the renovation work that was going on. It would have been easy. "Ne t’inquiètes pas avec ça!" He said, telling me not to worry myself about that. He would do it before he moved in. Yeah. Well, anyway. He did find something much nicer for us to do in May last year. A visit to Céret for the annual Cherry festival!

Céret is a town that demands to be immortalized in paintings and photographs - and has been by famous artists as well as countless fans. Picasso is probably the most famous of those who did - and so you will find a cafe named Le Pablo and admire an impressive fountain in his honor. If you have time you can see some of his ceramics that celebrate the bullfighting of times past in the Museum of Modern Art.

The wide boulevards and many shops are made grand by the variety of beautiful buildings and tall plane trees that flank the streets.  History and architecture combine in the nicest ways here.  Every Saturday, the street market in Céret bustles with 

Leafy Boulevard

commerce come rain or shine. This is no flea market, it's all about everyday shopping.  Most of the stalls are selling food and others have kitchen utensils, rolls of colorful fabric, or everyday clothing. However, since the South of France is a magnet for tourists you will also find arts and crafts between the stalls of useful or edible items.

The Cherry market is an exceptional two-day market in May. Then, the stalls hold every variety of cherry and cherry-related goods for sale. As the Cherry Capital of France. Céret sends the first box to the French President every year. You can buy cherries fresh or baked in dozens of desserts being sold from stalls in the streets. I love the cherry beer that is made for the celebration. There is music, folk dancing, and all kinds of entertainment. I have been to the festival at least five times and have yet to see the contest that gives prizes to the one who can spit cherry pits the farthest. But, I still hope!

Last year, Y suggested that we go and take one of my closest friends, who was visiting from England at the time. We got up a bit early and drove inland along the Albères mountains with Canigou ahead of us.On either side of the road, stood bright green vineyards and leafy orchards.  The trees were dotted with tiny nectarines, apricots and peaches; a bright promise of next month’s bounty.  But in May, the cherry trees have already bloomed and given us the first fruits of spring.

Even before we had entered the village of Céret, we saw two fruit stands, one on either side of

Picasso inspired fountain

the road. They were loaded with baskets and lugs of bright red cherries. But we were going for the spectacle of the market and didn't stop. We did have to park quite a ways from the center, I can tell you! One of the prettiest entries to the town is through the parking lot. As you arrive, there is a bit of the old wall and an arch with two towers that look like a castle gate. Actually, that's because it is what is left of the medieval gate! This is the north gate, also called the French Gate.  There is one on the south side of town called The Spanish Gate. I'll leave it to you to guess why. Yeah, pretty easy, I know!

 Céret once had a town wall all the way around it since it was besieged many times when this area was part of the Kingdom of Majorca.  The lively red and yellow banners adorning the

So many parades - here
go the Castellers.

streets and stalls are the colors of ancient Roussillon as well as the modern Catalan flag. Once inside the city walls, we wandered along the stalls, had coffees beneath leafy Plane trees and watched the Catalan "Castellers" parade through the streets, stopping now and then to show off how high they could make human towers. It was a lot of fun. I don't know how long it will be before there are festivals in France once more. There won't be any before September, that we do know.

Some of you have sent me notes and asked me, how do I feel about all of this? I am sad beyond belief. How could I not be? I expect we will be grieving about this tragedy for years and decades to come. It isn't the lost time we will mourn. That is not the worst part of this, though I know that for the seniors in high school, colleges, universities and graduates of all kinds, it must feel like a hole in their psyche. The festivals are nothing in the big scheme of things.  The very real possibility of economic hardship

colorful stalls

that will last for a decade is far more serious. But the real fear I have is that it is the end of the warm closeness we all share when we attend gatherings of all kinds. And all I can hope is that in time - a year or two from now, we have found a way that we can be close once again. And I won't give in to the fear. I hold on to my belief that we will overcome this. I am trying to be patient.

I can hear Y vacuuming up the dust he has made while sanding the railings. I am going to stop now and go wash them down. Who knows? I may even get around to painting them before the end of the week. 

My favorite shot of the day - the lady who sells
"Cherries from Here" is having a cherry snack.

It was sure nice to have a chance to share good memories with you. It also helps to know that no matter what comes, we are all still connected by our thoughts and hopes. I know that makes us all stronger. And we will see this through - together!

A demain, les amis! (Until tomorrow, friends!)

Link to Day 52

Day 50 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: The New Normal

Bonjour a tous! (Hello Everyone!) It's late as I write this because we have been out and about today. It's still a few days until the end of lock-down but we'd completely used up our stocks that can't be bought in the nearby store. It was time to go to the big Supermarket. I wore my new mask. We washed our hands when we got there and wiped down the cart handles with sanitizer dispensed at the entry.  We were careful to keep at a safe distance from others, but at least it is now accepted that couples and families can be together. It was a practice run for the "new normal." 

Our agricultural villages need workers in the orchards and fields.

Day 50 - We woke with the sun and it was warm - a  perfectly normal morning in May. At breakfast we looked over the list of food and supplies we planned to pick up at the giant supermarket. Y, my French partner, said, "Et nous pouvons même prendre nos vélos." (And we

A popular art form here that
looks really pretty in the sun.

can even take our bikes!) My obvious lack of unbridled enthusiasm went unnoticed as he continued to read the news on his phone. "Pas aussi bon qu' hier," (Not as good as yesterday), he remarked and handed me his phone with the lists of covid-19 statistics. I looked over the deaths and new cases from the day before. Rats. Although not high, there were a lot more than yesterday. It gives me a chill, I can tell you. Macron has told us that we won't really know until May 7 how the de-confinement will roll out. There will be numbers that are acceptable and those that aren't. Like you, we are praying to never do this again!

The morning was beautiful, so I sat on the terrace and played guitar for a while. I thought we would shop before lunch but I was wrong. This I discovered when Y objected to my proposal that we leave soon. "Oh non, je préfère de manger avant." (You guessed it  - eat before...) I said okay but we must not be late getting back. For just a moment I thought about saying I would take my car.

Macron warns us it will be done in little steps

But then I reflected on the fact that not only was it good for our budget, it was good for my health. And it's only a mile to the store. Don't tell me I should walk! How would I get the groceries home? Okay, Y could bring them home, but really, the bike is less bad than walking. And besides it would take me the whole day to get there and back. I'm not much of a walking person. My feet would hurt for days. So, we fixed lunch, watched the news, ate, had the after meal coffee and then prepared the bikes.  Somehow it was already after four in the afternoon before we were ready to go! I will admit that lunch wasn't ready until after one o'clock. But it was yummy.

Y has a little wagon he pulls behind his bike. Last year it took our

The wagon is ready to go!

surfing gear to the beach and back. This year, it is likely that won't be happening. During the winter, he has used it for the groceries. No, I'm still not walking to the big supermarket! I'd never get around to writing this to you if I did that. I will admit that it was lovely to cycle to the store. There were flowers blooming along side of the bike path but the mask I wore meant I couldn't smell them. That's okay. I decided that even though it was not obligatory, I would try out the mask now, before Monday gets here. You know what? It wasn't bad. 

We shopped. Lots of folks were wearing masks and there were many more plastic barriers along the edge of the cashier's area to keep people in the different checkout lanes from breathing on each other. Seems like a good idea to me. This is the face of life and will be the new normal way of shopping. Y payed by card so there would be no contact then we took our groceries to the little wagon parked out front. While Y packed everything neatly, I watched two lizards hunting in the rocks by the parking lot. One watched a small fly zipping around above the rocks and then, ZAP! I blinked at the speed with which its tongue had shot out and caught the prey. Wow. I'd never seen it happen. The second lizard watched and probably wished it was his supper. The play of life and death goes on even as we are trying to do our best to slow down the numbers of humans who fall ill. 

My new normal fashion accessory!

Most of the time, like the fly, we don't see the danger coming for us. This epidemic has made us aware of an invisible enemy that hangs in the air now. I wore my mask home. If it will help others, that's good. And hopefully by setting the example for others, they will help keep me safe too. I'm still working on getting Y to wear his mask. He says he will when it is the rule. And that is partly why we have to have rules. I know he believes he's invincible. How I wish that was true. I wish we all were.

And so now we must stop and eat dinner. While I've been writing, he has prepared the soup and our Mediterranean veggies to serve on rice. It's been another beautiful day. I hope you've had a good day too. And if it's been hard, hang in there. It's going to be a long time before life becomes anything like

The fly never even sees the lizards waiting for it.

normal. For the moment, be brave. I'm feeling just the same as we try to adjust to the "new normal." If we can all keep ourselves and others safe, one day we'll look back and know why we had to do this. 
A demain mes amis! (Until tomorrow, my friends!)

Link to Day 51

Day 49 - SkyLines from the French Lock-down: Dreams and Memories

Salut les amis! (Hi friends!) The approaching end of our confinement is now just a week away. The village is so excited and fearful at the same time. If only life could return to normal! But we know that's not how it's going to be. The anticipation is tinged with an underline of worry... It's time to hold on to your happiest dreams and memories. They have the ability to heal us when we are afraid. And courage - there will be new days and the chance to find good times again. 

The Cathedral bells in Perpignan

Day 49 - The sound of birds and the bright sunlight filtered in through the partly open shutters. We slept better for having fresh, cool night air. It was early and I turned to see that Y, my French partner, was awake. He grinned and said, "J'ai rêvé que j'ai gainé une fortune!" (I

Place Hyacinthe Riguard in Perpignan

dreamed I won a fortune!) I said, "What a great dream. I was dreaming we were at the beach.  How did you win a fortune?" "At the Casino with my brother," he said. "Cool," I said and smiled because we never go to casinos. Dreams are nice. 

We ate and took an early walk in town. A few neighbors talked about the fear that when things open up on Monday, the deaths will mount again. It's a probability. But we can't do anything else. People need to earn money to pay their bills. I hope that this time we have stayed at home has given the health care sector time to prepare. It's all scary.  But there is also an anticipation about how good it will be to leave the time and distance restrictions behind. Right now we are limited to a kilometer around the house. Next week it will be a hundred kilometers! I can feel it coming - Road Trip! Well, maybe. We'll see.

After lunch, I noticed in my photo timeline a memory from last May. I showed Y the photos and he said, "I remember that day. The weather in May was not like today last year!" It's been beautiful and really warm all day today -

Timbered building in Perpignan

in the sunshine anyway. Last year it could have been bucketing down spiders and snakes and I'd have just smiled out from under my umbrella. Y and I had begun dating two months earlier and it was the dawn of new love. I felt seventeen every time we saw each other or sent texts on the days we were working apart. Thinking about it made me fillet through my photo file and I came across a day to share. A day  in Perpignan "From the times before the Virus."

It was a sunny day early in May. My new boyfriend - oh my gosh wow - I have a new boyfriend and I'm 58 - wow! Okay. Let's finish the sentence. My new boyfriend texted "Good morning," in English because he was working on learning more words in my language. The rest was in French. He asked would I like to have coffee in Perpignan? He was living there and it was going to be a beautiful day. I said I could be there in twenty minutes. As I drove toward the city, the blue sky was as pretty as the brightest azure crayon in the box.

We met at his apartment and walked into town center. I thought it was funny that he carried an umbrella but Y said, "Le mois de mai c'est imprévisible." (May is unpredictable.) I looked at

Le Quai du Vauban

that gorgeous sky without a cloud in sight and figured it was just a habit he retained from the years of living and working in Paris. I was taking photos all the way, as usual. It was nice to see that it did not seem to bother my new friend at all. That was good - photography being one of my passions, as all my friends could attest! I never get tired of trying to capture the colors of Perpignan. It is a tiny city with Catalan charm and sometimes a bit of chaos too. It's no way perfect but I like it a lot.

The cafes along the Quai du Vauban were busy and we walked from one end to the other before deciding we would try to find a place for coffee in the Place de la République. I noticed a

La Place de la République

few clouds floating across the sky. It was still a warm and sunny day when we found a seat and ordered our coffees. I took photos and listened to my new guy telling me about his life as a gendarme in Paris. I told him about my childhood and how I went to a French maternal school as a youngster in Maison Lafitte. Thanks to my military family, we spent 3 years in the suburbs of Paris and my mom sent me to French school.  I'm sure that's why French culture is so comfortable for me. We both agreed that it was this early exposure to the language which makes it possible for us to communicate. I doubt that if I'd started later, I would be as fluent as I am. (Of course, that doesn't mean I have it down, folks! I make Y

Nice view of the plaza!

laugh often by mis-pronouncing words to the point of saying something completely different from what I mean...)

I said yes to a second espresso and soon needed to find the "facilities."  The waiter indicated that they were upstairs. I found the toilets easily enough and afterwards was drawn into an empty room by the view I could see just beyond the windows. I took a photo of the plaza and noticed that the sky was now extremely cloudy.  I returned and told Y that I thought he had done right to bring along an umbrella. We decided to take another walk and once the tab was paid, we headed across the city to wander through the shops along the canal.  The weather held and we ended up having lunch in the Halles Vauban. We joked and took photos of one another. I think he carries that photo in his phone. I know I do.

Eventually we were in Place Catalogne.  There is a store there that specializes in science and nature that we both enjoyed visiting. When we stepped back outside, a cool breeze surprised me. All at once, the heavens opened and it was raining. Thank goodness for that umbrella! It made a lovely excuse

And then it RAINED!

to take Y's arm and snuggle close as we walked back to his apartment. I drove home and on the way the clouds began to clear. The sun heading toward the horizon was a true sky-painting. I stopped on the way and took a photo. (You knew I would!) When I texted my new boyfriend that I had arrived safely, I sent it to him. I heated up my frozen vegetarian dinner for one. He wrote how much he had enjoyed our time. He sent me a photo of spaghetti and ham that he was eating in his apartment while I enjoyed my Amy's mac n cheese at my village house. Later, we texted goodnight to one another and he added, "Merci pour une autre belle journée." (Thank you for another beautiful day.) I asked, "Even thought it rained?" and he replied, "Especially because it rained!"

Somehow, even with a plague devastating the world, it continues to be a place worth being in because I share it with him. We have been tested by these 49 days of confinement, but the result has been a bond that is strong. You know what?  A year later, we still finish the day by saying, "It's been another beautiful day." These days we often add, "Even under quarantine!" 

So. dear friends, there it is a little "before the virus" story. In a way, we are all sheltering under an umbrella of sorts. Let's stay close and that way we may not get wet. Next week, France will step

The clouds will clear - real clouds and fear clouds too.

outside and instead of a parapluie (an umbrella) we will wear masks. Be brave, wherever you are. Fear must not win. You are special to us and so, we stand as one - have courage! Together, you and we will do our best to stay safe and stay connected. 
A demain, les amis! (Until tomorrow, friends!)

Link to Day 50