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Cabanon dreams

Camelot, my Camelot…a castle to call my own…or just…a cabanon.
I was thinking earlier today that my life has hardly been linear. And while I know in my head that every moment has been a result of a previous choice plus the occasional bolt of luck, looking back it does seem all over the map. Literally. Nomad me, even in society.
So perhaps that is why I long for something solid, a little hideaway to call my own where I can live as I please. One that won’t suddenly disappear and will offer the same joys year after year.
My companion, whose jolts and dashes have been erratic as mine, feels the same. So we go hunting, cabanon hunting in Provence. It seems the perfect landscape, lavender fields, olive groves. And there they are, those often abandoned buildings, small enough to be our doll’s house. Just the size for dreaming and an afternoon nap.
We scour them out, we chase across distant fields to find them. In our minds we fix them up, we argue over where the kitchen would go. We own them even if it is only in our cabanon dreams.

I don’t need a castle. Nor perfection or idealism. No swords drawn out of a rock. Or miracles at all save for the everyday kind…
Shaking out the sheets on a line, pulling tomatoes, toes buried in the grass next to the one I love.
I am not there yet, but I am not far either. If my life has not been linear, who knows, perhaps I am closer than I think?
Today’s post was my little “Hello!” as part of the series By Invitation Only, in which bloggers around the world share their interpretations on a common theme, this month’s being “Camelot.” 
To see the other wonderful posts, please do click here. There are such talented women in this group and we will be on break until September. 
Come on, there is nothing wrong with dreaming is there?


Small beautifuls

Kipling swivelled his ears forward, tracking the prickly peals of tiny laughter rolling towards us. Two young girls, perhaps three and five years old, had escaped their parents grasp and were running free, ecstatic and hiccuping with joy. But they were far, too far away as anyone who knows this busy street could tell. So did an elderly lady facing them. Her stooped back was towards me and yet I could feel her smile as she carefully bent down, arms wide. A dance step to the left, then the right to corral the two with upturned faces. Delighted. There was a pause of recognition, a bounce back and forth between the aged and ageless. Was this their Grandmother? She clearly felt so much love for them. The father came up in a lope of a jog. Merci, merci. He nodded knowing that she understood and scooping up his wriggling captives under his arms, turned and went on his way. The women straightened up for just a moment then watched them go.
Listen to this lovely song: Caminho Do Vento by Nei Zigma

*Award alert! Please feel free to tune out until tomorrow if that is not your cup o’tea*
Do you know Loree? She has a lovely blog Stories and Scribbles, where she delves into her life on the island of Malta. Isn’t that exotic? I find it so. She is a wonderful writer and photographer and so I was delighted that gave me the Liebster Award–yes, especially as it means “dearest.” Now, I think that this is the third or fourth time that I have been given this award by one of my peers but that doesn’t make it any less special, no. As I have said here before, we all like to be appreciated. I am fortunate in having you all–a very expressive and brilliant bunch! But not that long ago, as La Contessa recently pointed out, there would maybe be five comments, maybe two. So, while not one to follow rules, I would be delighted to answer Loree’s questions and pass on a few blogs to you.
Loree’s Questions:
1. What is your earliest memory?
I am tiny, tiny and sitting on the linoleum floor in the kitchen of our apartment in Erlanger, Kentucky. I can make out the shadow of my Mom opening up the refrigerator door and sun is pouring in around her.

2. What character from a book do you most identify with?
Now, you have to give Loree credit for such a fine question but it is a trap! 😉 Because honestly the first thing that popped into my head was “Jane Eyre” but that sounds both a little crazy and a touch pretentious.

3. What is your favourite flower?
Roses à l’ancienne.

4. If you could meet one person from the past, who would it be?
Again, immediate response–and I am sorry, Mom, it might upset you–but my Mom’s Dad, my Gradfather, who died when I was too young.

5. What would you talk about?
Horses and the importance of living a clear life.

6. Have you ever won anything? If you have, what was it?
Beyond these awards? Yes. I won a poetry contest for Mother’s Day when I was nine (?) that was for the local paper. “My Mom means the world to me and I love her a whole lot you see…” I also found a fifty dollar bill on the sidewalk in Central Park once when I was dirt poor and it felt like winning the lottery. I was so excited that I cried!

7. Do you prefer modern or vintage clothes, furniture etc?
By all means vintage and I have since I was fifteen years old–in a time and place where it wasn’t considered in the least chic to do so. One favorite store was next to a strip joint! But the cuts, the colors, the materials gave me immediate access to glamour and to a level of self-expression that I could never have found where I was otherwise. And yes, vintage is the new green. 

8. What one event will forever remain etched in your  memory?
As everyone who knows me well can tell you, I have a terrible memory. I do. Too many years of insomnia have sneaky-thiefed my thoughts. But two that come to mind: opening my acceptance letter to the Yale School of Drama and seeing one tear fall on the paper…plus spotting the lions while on safari on my 35th birthday after having successfully helped Remi produce an ad for Apple.

9. If you were stranded on a desert island and could only take one book, which one would it be?
Again! Loree! Have you no shame? And I offer not even an original response–either the collected works of Shakespeare or the Bronte Sisters. The Sisters would probably win out.

10. What is your favourite musical genre?
Of all time? I would have to say that jazz has been a great constant in my life. But I am open…

11. Can you ride a bicycle?
I certainly have in the past. My first bike was pink and was called “Hearts a bustin’.” I love that. 

Now, I will just pass this award on to a few folks that I KNOW that I haven’t already given it to (see answer to #8). Usually the rules for this award go a little something like this: say eleven things about yourself, ask eleven questions and nominate eleven bloggers to answer them, notify them, yadda yadda.
I am just going to list a few new finds and if they want to pick up the ball I have so clearly dropped, by all means feel free!

My Liebsterites:
Naomi at Coulda Shoulda Woulda for being an inquisitive nomad, like yours truly.
Vickie at Beguiling Hollywood because I don’t know how I have lived without my daily dose of Old Hollywood for so long.
George at 1904 for being a brilliant and charming cultural reference and host.
Lisa at Wishbone Soup Cures Everything for blowing me away with her gorgeous writing every single post.

There we go! Take or leave it kids…and have a grand day everyone…

Back with the “By Invitation Only” monthly post tomorrowish…








Faces of La Fete de Gardians

Remi and I were talking about what qualities we seek in a friend these days, at this age in our lives. And he came across a word that I loved, vrai or “true.”

I think that the same could be said for many of the faces seen at the recent Fête de Gardians in Arles on the First of May. There was something about their traditional costume that made them more themselves. Especially as they all seemed so completely bien dans leur peau, good in their skin.

And that is as true as it gets.

Details at La Fete des Gardians

How I am entranced by the swish of silk and shine of satins at the Fête des Gardians, held each year on the First of May in Arles. The women sway like tender reeds under the weight of their finery while the men clench their jaws as they guide their horses through the maddening crowds. We all gather and pull to catch glimpses of a past and present mingling, sighing wishes just for a little bit of better, a mist of more mystery. Our everyday garb says much of the times we are in–of uncertainty, of fatigue. So how wonderful to get lost in this particular dream. 
While in years past (here and here), I have been swept up by the spectacle, I shifted focus, letting myself indulge happily in the beauty of the details, both masculine and feminine. 
Can you hear the rustle and the horses neigh?
The drums beat out a Provençal tune of old.
Curious as to the what and the why’s?
From my first post on this splendid fête:
“While throughout France it is often when labourers hold protest marches to demand better conditions, here in Arles it is the Fête des Gardians. Extending south of town down to the sea, the Camargue is a large marsh land where bulls and horses roam free. They are watched over and cared for by les gardians, our answer to cowboys. Or actually, maybe the cowboys copied their French counter parts, for their Confrérie or Brotherhood, was formed in 1512 (and is the oldest of its kind) and has gathered every May Day for nearly the past five hundred years. A mass is held in the Major Church just behind the Roman Arena, at the end of which horses and riders are blessed in the name of St. George, their patron saint. For the occasion, everyone is decked out in their finest traditional Provençal costume, which was strictly codified by the Marquis de Baroncelli in 1817 and has been proudly adhered to ever since. Everything has its place–the way a woman’s hair is rolled, the pinned folds of the scarf on her shoulders, the placement of her jewellery, her shoes.”

Tastes of the Luberon, Evencio Vazquez

Ooh, it is a cold and rainy Monday morning in Arles, so I thought something to warm us all up was in order. And there is nothing like fine eats to get the blood pumping now is there? 

Why had I not thought of it sooner? It now makes utter sense: when searching for a vacation rental, the top criteria is not the location, the number of bedrooms, nor cleanliness, no, of utmost importance is that the owners should be caterers that also have an épicerie fine or gourmet boutique on site. For you see, that is exactly what Evencio Vazquez (affectionately called “Banco”) and his charming wife Véronique do in addition to welcoming guests at La Buissonade. 
And what a fine welcome it is. As we arrived just in time for Easter, the couple had just finished producing massive amounts of goodies for the holiday and so two chocolate figurines plus a jar of strawberry jam were waiting for us as our “welcome gift.” But that was just the beginning. For you see, Evencio and Véronique are genuinely generous. Remi and I both felt that they provided some of the finest hospitality that we had ever seen. Anywhere. Because it came from the heart.
We were offered some tasty treat or other nearly every day and our stay was topped off with a farewell lunch that was out of this world…oysters with leeks and bacon in a briny white wine emulsion,  possibly the best épaule d’agneau I have ever had, grilled local goat cheese crostini and a cake…chocolate, hazelnut mousse, créme caramel au beurre salée…I don’t even like cake! But this was like munching on an especially tasty cloud. 
Evencio, who cooked professionally for twelve years–including at Michelin-loved restaurants in Moustiers-Sainte-Marie–showed off his Spanish roots on another occasion by whipping up a platter of squid and shrimp tapas with an aîoli dipping sauce but shared his interpretation of a French classic, the millefeuille as a surprise on Easter Sunday. He also gave us a tender cut of chevreau along with a roll of Banon from the neighboring goat farm. Pity that Kipling stoll the cheese from right under our noses! Shameless. We were enjoying it too.

I loved that there was no pressure whatsoever to even set foot in their boutique. But of course, we are no fools and my highly attuned food radar was telling me to take some of this fine experience home with me. 

Remi and I have yet to taste all of what we purchased but have been delighted by everything so far–créme de Noix, two balsalmic reductions (one with honey and spices, the other with lavender honey), truffle olive oil, two vinegars (one with lavender honey and another with raspberry pulp), several jams (rose, fig with red wine and spices to serve with cheese and one that Remi quickly devoured that had white chocolate in it), a confit d’oignons au gingembre…All interesting, beyond the norm combinations. Does it seem as though we bought out the entire shop? We could have! Especially as their prices are incredibly reasonable for the fine quality of ingredients used.
The couple hopes to open a restaurant in the future and we both strongly urged them to consider offering tables d’hôtes or fixed-price dinners, as well as cooking courses for the guests of the cottage. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? And yes, if you are so fortunate as to live in the area, they are excellent, creative caterers as well. 
Evencio Vazquez and Véronique Nitard
http://www.evprovence.com/
Veronique’s cell for English speakers: 06 20 64 21 08
Pour mes amis Francophone, Evencio’s: 06 03 17 23 31
Email: ve************@*ol.fr
Website for La Buissonade: here
To read more about my Tastes of the Luberon, please click here. And it hopefully goes without saying that in no way is this a sponsored post, I am just happy to spread the word about some incredibly kind and talented people. 

Have a great week everyone!

PS. Folks, I am no longer accepting anonymous comments. The spam is just way too out of hand and there are actually very, very few of you who have used this. From here on out, you will need a registered profile. Thanks for understanding…
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