“I think that I am on your street.” I looked out of the window to see a lovely blonde precariously balancing a tray while leading a Golden Retriever and talking on her cell phone zoom past our corner. “Wait! Stop! Back up! Look up!” I leaned out of the window and waved like mad. I could see Aidan’s smile blossom from a far and with a “Hooray!” I ran down to open up the front door to let her inside.
I remember writing to Aidan on her wonderful blog Conjugating Irregular Verbs pretty much immediately after we first came into contact asking “When can we meet?!”. She had somehow stumbled upon my Haunted series and we clicked right away. And she lives in Montpellier! A mere 40 minute drive away! Alas, these things take time. There are children to be wrangled (Aidan has three beautiful ones) and schedules to be balanced. Six months later, it all came together.
Although I am shy, I knew that Aidan and I would get along and it felt wonderful to not be even the slightest bit nervous, just excited. And I wasn’t the only one! Within minutes our words were over-lapping and we could barely finish one thought because it sparked off several others. There was so much that we wanted to cram in we were practically hyper-ventilating! Although we eventually settled down to a fine lunch of the crisp pissaladière that Aidan had generously baked, the five hours we spent together passed far too quickly and we were literally still chatting in the parking lot as she was loading up the car to head home.
But I wasn’t the only one that was thrilled. As previously mentioned, Aidan brought along her one year old Golden, Clementine. The meeting of our two beloved puppers was just the icing on the proverbial cake. Oh, how she tortured Ben! She chewed on his ears until they were a soggy mess and pounced on his back until they rolled into the furniture. And he loved every minute of it. Goldens seem to have an innate recognition for other Goldens and they quickly formed a big brother/little sister bond. Unfortunately, it was way too hot to take them on the stroll that I had imagined (32°C/90°F) but we did manage to stop off at the new gelato shop with dollops of salted caramel for Aidan, beet and cucumber for me. Surprisingly, Clementine was less than thrilled when I offered for her to lick the bowl for the last crimson stain of beet! I wonder why…
Aidan’s writing is open, honest and so funny, just like her wonderful self. Now I know firsthand and I am so thrilled to have made a new friend. I have to say it has been a pretty fabulous week as far as connecting due to the internet and thank you to all that were so supportive about Wijnand Boon’s peace-walk. Such positive experiences. Let’s hear it for the joy of discovery!
Bon weekend!
For those of you in the Northern Hemisphere, summer is running at an Olympic pace so let’s make the most of it…
I enjoyed reading your description of you and and Ben's meet up with Aiden and Clementine. I love Aiden's blog so it was double fun reading about your time together. Have a great week.
You introduce us to the most interesting people Heather…that is one of the things I love about your blog. I must go off an meet Aidan…as I did Wijnand and many others before him. I hope someday that I can stroll down your street and do the same..or better yet, you can come to Saigon and stroll down Cherry Blossom Road…I will be waiting. 🙂
Best wishes for a lovely weekend Heather..
Jeanne xxx
Well, as usual….you're lucky in your encounters, Heather.
Herve's off on a trip, so I'm here alone this weekend. As ever, that means I don't bother with cooking (although I'll certainly start doing that later today when I pick up the seventy-five pounds of tomatoes I reserved), and I just wear anything out of the work-clothes bin. One not particularly politically-correct friend has described the look as "an unsupervised, retarded adult". His phrasing's not the most sensitive, but the point has been accepted.
In any case, I looked pretty raggedy yesterday afternoon when I had my own surprise encounter while thrashing around with an inadequate weedeater down by the road. A neighboring (I assume) couple stopped to introduce themselves. This is the SECOND time since we moved to this posh little town/village that I've found myself wondering why these folks are barraging me with questions about the Affordable Health Care Act before finally mentioning that I "don't have much of an accent". I told them that I wasn't the French epidemiologist they'd all-too obviously heard about and were eager to meet (well, I didn't say the last part, although I thought it). I said I was an artist. They asked if I was "VISITING" (what?!?). I said no, I actually lived here…..and the man looked at me and brightly said "Really? Well, you must be doing pretty well!Good for you!".
At that point, I decided that he'd just given me permission to dislike him as thoroughly as I'd been inclined to do during the first five minutes of our meeting. I told him "Oh, it's a GREAT deal. Herve's going to let me have one of the bedrooms in exchange for doing the cleaning and some of the yard-work. I can use the kitchen, too. It's pretty good for an artist!".
He and his wife believed me. They expressed their certainty that I would enjoy my "stay" here and asked me to tell Herve how VERY MUCH they looked forward to having him over for drinks. So much for "a stranger is just a friend you've never met". I was really hoping they would offer to pay me to trim their lawn, but they didn't go that far.
As for doggie rendezvous? Later, yesterday afternoon, yet another couple came by….with 2 prancy, skittish, rather over-primped, not very-bright-looking west highlands on leashes. I already knew, via the grapevine, that four couples in this town own 1-3 west highlands (I have two, plus a cairn, as you know). They knew who/what I was (this is a very small place, a grid of only six small streets of historic houses). They were, to be sure, very pleasant and welcoming in a burbling sort of way. Unfortunately, the wife, in a fit of bonhomie, suddenly suggested "We have to have a WESTIE PARTY! We can all come over and let our Westies play!!!"
I was hot, tired, and (obviously) not at my diplomatic best. I took another quick look at their obviously-pampered dogs (matching, red&black tartan collars?) and, without thinking, blurted out "Oh God…that'd be an awful idea…I'm afraid my dogs would attack these dogs of yours in a new york minute."
They both stared….and the woman's mouth dropped open as she exclaimed "Well, I never!…". I considered I/my social-reputation was getting chewed-up in the great maw of Karma for disliking the previous couple so much.
In any case, that was my day of Meeting & Learning to LIKE (!) new folks and their dogs. I'm glad you had better luck at the business.
Fortunately, I'll be spending all day and night in the kitchen, processing tomatoes and, one hopes, avoiding social fiascos for at least 24 hours. Given that we plan to live here for at least another 25 years, Herve would probably prefer that I not handle any social-introductions when he's not here to referee the proceedings.
Level Best as ever,
david terry
http://www.davidterryart.com
It is Ann, I really agree. And the puppers happiness only magnified our own!
That's odd! It looks as though my reply didn't "take"–just to say that we are right there with you with Olympic fever. And sending good thoughts for OH's health.
Bon weekend!
It's so wonderful when a virtual friend becomes real! Looks like the four of you had a fun and delicious afternoon — love seeing those happy doggie faces, too! I'm off to visit Aidan's blog…
Especially as the concept of doggy play dates is not exactly in the French lexicon. 😉
Hope you are not wilting from the heat, Elizabeth–bon weekend!
Your Aunt Helen's advice was so wonderful and is something to keep in mind!
Aidan had said to me before hand "I want to bring something" (isn't that lovely?) and when she suggested the pissaladiere, it just seemed perfect to stay in, especially as it has been so hot and Remi was away on a shoot so it was just us girls (and Ben).
And I think you know how grateful I am for the blog world for introducing me to so many amazing people–like yourself.
Gros bisous,
H
Leslie, we redheads have to stick together. We are special. 😉
And I did take photos of the rumpus which are all blurry and a little video with me shrieking in excitement in the background as if I were doing a play by play of the 50m swimming final! Speaking of, I am bumming that the swimming is nearly over, now we are on to track and field which is not nearly as interesting in my book!
I am letting Ben tell me how much outdoor time he wants in this heat (as we live in town his walks are on hot pavement) and as he is a smart cookie, that means not so much!
Wishing you a lovely weekend Leslie!
You most certainly would have loved the food involved (minus the anchovies of course!). 😉