In my experience, children are a lot like cats. They are irresistibly drawn to people who are utterly allergic to them; they are wholly unpredictable, can smother you with boundless affection and then suddenly, inexplicably no longer be aware you exist. And of course, they are thoroughly lovable despite their flaws.
For reasons altogether unfathomable to me, children have become drawn to me over the past 5 years. I cannot think of a single child below the age of 7 that I met in my recent past who didn’t immediately take to me. While completely bewildered and surprised by this, I am also very flattered and humbled. I have no explanation for this curious phenomenon. And I hope I’m not jinxing myself by speaking of it!
My latest fan is Clémence, 21 months, the daughter of my friends Stéphane and Delphine. They stopped by the house unexpectedly last weekend for a short visit (Stéphane’s family lives in nearby Cluny). Clémence was a hoot. And in one of those child/cat parallels, as soon as her dad wanted to take a photo of us together (she insisted the only suitable place for her to sit during the entire visit was right next to me) her finger was glued to her nose, much to her lovely parents’ chagrin. I of course found it hilarious and consider Clémence to be something of a kindred spirit.
Sadly in the photos her beautiful blue eyes came out demon-red and the red-eye reduction filter couldn’t do a lot to help. Still, I found them worth sharing for the laugh. Note that she is an ambidextrous picker!

Falling

into a vibrant palette of flaming reds, oranges and golds, the Charolais fields remain vibrant green and the glorious sunshine against the robin’s egg-blue sky has a special autumn glow that I’ve never seen anywhere else. I think it is safe to say that October is my favourite time of year in the Saône et Loire.
It’s been a long time since I posted anything here, my absence stemming from a variety of reasons, mostly a lack of time and a sort of paralysis of the soul. After Sheba died, I went to the US for three weeks and avoided my grief by working tons, injecting money into the US GDP in shopping expeditions, and rafting down the Grand Canyon. Then I escorted my mom and soon-to-be-94 grandmother back to France for a two-week visit.
While we all about drove each other batty from a little too much family togetherness, I am so glad they came. Having them here kept me from lying around in bed all day, crying all the time over Sheba’s absence. This huge house seems barren and empty without him. So instead of mourning my devastating loss for days on end, immobilised by the pain, I was running around rearranging furniture, painting, sightseeing, shopping for the house, etc. There was no time for weeping, so I usually got some in at night when I went to bed. Every time I realise that I will never see him again, the pain is crippling. It still seems unreal to me. Thanks to all of you who have written with their condolences and support, which has been wonderful. And I want to extend special thanks to my mom and grandmother for putting up with my bouts of high tension, which they may or may not have realised stemmed from me trying to bottle up my grief, a task that often proved too much for me, with my sadness quickly erupting into anger.
Immediately after their departure, my friend Chris (aka CW) and his parents Lloyd and Carla came for a visit. Now that the house was in better shape thanks to all of Mom’s hard work, we were able to enjoy the fabulous weather and do some sightseeing, wine tasting and indulging in delicious meals – the best of Burgundy!
The heating system has been successfully installed and improvements are made to the house every week. I’m still taking reservations for this winter and have no plans for Christmas yet… If the insulation gets installed in time, I would love to have a huge New Year’s bash, so stay tuned…
Meanwhile, some photos to accompany the above text.

Mom and me at her house in Scottsdale

Mom and Gramma at dinner our first night in Paris with Roland.

An image from Jan Brueghel the Elder's Chateau de Mariemont, which although in Belgium, looks exactly like some of the landscape around here. (Photo I took without flash in the Dijon museum)

CW, me, Carla and Lloyd at La Potence.

The church in Juliénas.