One of my favorite aspects of travelling is imaging myself living an entirely different life in my new found environment. And I like to dream big. It doesn’t cost anything does it? Just a dash of wistfulness perhaps. So be it…
The click of my satin court shoes echoes on the parquet running the length of the chateau. Back and forth I pace, pouting over a disagreement with my portrait painter. How many times must I tell him that I will…not…wear…purple!? I grab my cream silk morning coat and storm out into the labyrinth of boxwoods. He can wait.
From the cool shelter of my Renaissance cave, I turn the pages of an original Rimbaud manuscript that has been brought to me from Ethiopia in a gilded box, pronouncing each poem out loud in a rhythm that descends with the cascading waterfall. Gradually lulled, I curl up on the fur-lined blankets that cover the uneven dirt floor.
I fling open the shutters of my maison du village to twitter along with the birds outside my window and giggle at the burbling brook that spills over from last nights rain. “Bonjour, Madame Robinson! J’ai un colis pour vous!” shouts out the postman. When I open the beribboned box that he places in my hands with a short bow, I am overwhelmed by the perfume of three dozen roses sent all the way from Paris. I burst into song as I turn to close the door, like a joyous Edith Piaf.
My Sister is getting married today. We have opened up the chapel to air and brought the largest table out into the garden. Thirty bottles have been lined up for lunch. In the kitchen I check on les quiches and les gougères, I pour broth over les rotîs, I smooth out the purée. I have already lined platters with asperges, others with les huîtres, a long board groans with les fromages. Next to me, Amandine tries to roll out the dough for her famous millefeuilles while swatting away the minou, who leaves paw prints in the flour. We can hear the first car down the road as the family begins to arrive.
Or maybe I am content just in this little cabanon, working hard to bring the vines back to life, to shore up the beams under the roof, to splatter a fresh coat of lime-wash on its pebbly walls. I listen to the windmill crank, bringing up water from deep inside the earth and know that I have all that I need.
Hoping that you all let yourself dream a bit over the next few days, no matter where you are. Thank you so very much for all of your kind responses to my previous post and for your music as well…
Bon weekend!
You are so welcome Louise! I do love hearing from my Aussie friends. What a great group you all are–open, curious, enthusiastic! 🙂 PS. That is some crazy scenery in the background of your photo!
Beautiful Heather I love the way your mind works and the bigger pictures…stunning.
XXX
Oh, such an interesting concept, to dream about living a different life in the places you visit. That's a bit dangerous for me to do, as last time I did that, I ended up moving to Valencia, Spain.
Oh, I am still smiling as I type this from Perth, Western Australia…on a lovely sunny day I have thrown open the windows to let in the autumn air…but I have breathed in your dream… merci beaucoup!
Oh Helen, you made me laugh out loud on a morning when I would have thought that impossible. Thank you so much for your generous comment. And no he most certainly will not be eat cake. Or millefeuilles.
Bisous.
Hello Heather
How marvelous this all is. When I renew my wedding vows I shall have you as my Wedding Planner. You are so right to have a say in how your portrait is painted and to suggest you wear purple is absurd when we know you have that superb opera coat from your days in NYC or has it been mailed to Jeanne at Collage of Life? I think you put that cheeky artist in his place, at the bottom of the garden among the weeds and stones. He will not be eating cake.
Helen xx
Ma chere Contessa, you are not a dreamer but a DO-er! All the difference in the world! You make the best out of everything everyday–bring out the good glasses and china! Make something delicious! Create something beautiful! That is you. You have it all figured out, my friend.
Debra, you are so wonderful to me. Always. I so appreciate it.
Gros bisous…a scratchie to you know who. 🙂
Sharon, thank you for the lovely compliment! I am looking forward to discovering your world too. So romantic…right up my alley! 🙂
I DREAM every day!My Italian husband tells me I live in a dollhouse!I do!I create in my mind and in my home out of what I find into something much more romantic and crusty!Yesterday, I had two gals over for wine in the jardin amoungest the roses and jasmine sitting on top of the pennyroyal.We ate berry pie,sipped on a white wine and had brie topped with pepper jelly on fresh little crackers……it was lovely!I carried the silver wine bucket with white table cloth along with the gold etched stemware down to the second terrace…………truley an amazing eve!Wish I could do that with you someday!xxx