Monday, June 28, 2010
My New Chez Moi
Well, t'is a first for me. I'm living in a camping car. I'm using a toilette sèche (and quite the rudimentary one, amazing thing saw dust...). I hose myself off to shower (excepting the hours when my renters are away, then I can use my new outdoor shower at my house...). I've but my toaster oven, my rice cooker and a small gas burner I've yet to get working for food prep. I think there'll be lots of salad and rice cakes in my future.
But actually, it's rather marvelous. I've put my own futon and bedding in the camping car -- upon which I sleep really pretty well, even if my toes do tap on the facing wall (this is not a set-up for two people! unless they be munchkins). Mosquitoes will eventually be an issue. I've one mosquito net that I've put outside above my divan/canapé. As the spot I've put it in is shaded in the afternoon, it seems the best solution to the periodic necessary afternoon nap.
I brought my new hammock over to be with me for this month (it will go back to the house when I depart for Michigan, and thus be there for the August renters). I've a couple tables, chairs, cushions, a simple dish-washing set up (two containers, a hose, a sponge).
With my neighbor we set up his fridge and my freezer in his garage (closed with a key). And there I've my bread for the summer (baked last week and frozen), wines, jams, tomato sauce, cheeses, eggs, etc.,
What more could I ask for? Till I get the burner working I'm limited as to hot water, pasta, etc., But I don't miss them too much. I'm drinking sun tea at the moment. And last night I made quite a nice little batch of raisin scones in my toaster oven. Not too shabby.
Filou has taken it upon himself to be my primary protector and intruder-alert source. Unfortunately the latter apparently includes my most direct neighbor and host (oops!).
Filou is at my side, or under the caravan/camping car at all times. Even at night he has decided that this is his space. Akin to Jack in the Little House in the Prairie. Only in the morning, about 6:30AM do I hear a gentle scratching at my door to be let in. Thus he spends perhaps two hours on his bed in the car before heading back outside to live his summer life.
Not being far from my own home, I can sit in a corner of the property and have internet access (quite useful!). And soon, that fig tree that shades my table will bear fruit (yum!) and who knows, maybe I'll make a few tarts in my toaster oven? I think I could get used to living in 1.5 meters by 2.5 meters... Certainly the clean-up time is brief!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Ooph!
Where do I begin? My house is now in the possession of my renters. It is immaculate, completely organized, and mostly divested of the most personal objects (photos of kids, etc.,) though much of my art collection is still on the walls, all the books, a selection of cds, the kids' toys, etc are there to be enjoyed as they will. My kids are finished with their school year. My temporarily adopted kids have gone to their respective homes. One I shall truly miss as he shifts his life path and goes into the Compagnons (guild master training) for carpentry. The other, I am sorry to admit, I am deeply relieved to be rid of.
To give an example of the extent of his selfish and self-centered behavior. Friday after school, two nights before the renters arrive, he hasn't cleaned his part of his room. And, when his parents arrived at 10pm, neither they nor I had heard from him beyond the fact that he had a gathering at school to say good bye to his teacher. Thus, no vacuuming, no mopping, no stripped bed, no shelves dusted, etc., His parents shrug their shoulders. They're not going to do his job for him. They go off to have dinner at the local pizzeria.
I go to bed. I'm exhausted. Somewhere around midnight Leo lets them all in to clean up a bit. They leave me a brief note and the remainder (7Euros) that they owed me for the new door knob (which I finally handled, having waited 10 months for them to do so). No more. Leo then turns out the lights and locks the front door. I'm asleep through all this. But, I'm awakened around 1AM by knocking and a car honking. I go down. The child had forgotten his roller blades. And with barely a good bye, they are off.
If ever my children were to behave in such a manner I would dis-own them! Now, if only he will send me back the key to my brand new bike lock...
To put it simply I am beat. I attempted to do just a wee bit too much -- but, how could I not? That's my nature. I blended tremendous amounts of detailed cleaning and organizing with teaching moments. AKA -- Please do your room(s) yourselves, clear out your stuff, give me the clothes for Michigan (for my boys) separated from the clothes that stay here. Tell me what toys are going to Arles and get them ready, vacuum, dust the shelves, mop, strip your beds, clean out your drawers... you get the picture. I only attempted help with their own rooms. But even so it was exhausting. At one point I said to Leo, alright, if you can't do things on your own, then come with me and we'll do all the rooms together. I brought him into to mine and started ordering him about, up and down the stairs with things to be put in storage, cleaning supplies to be gotten, rugs to be moved, etc.,
Leo has a good heart, but he has bones made of lead. Sitting and contemplating getting up to help me is far preferable to leaping up and doing. Hence, I'll ask something of him, and he'll still be sitting 5 minutes later. This drives me batty, and I come and nudge, badger, push, and eventually raise my voice. So far, we manage. Eventually he gets up to help, but then -- like as not -- sits back down quickly after.
Will I ever instill in him the thought/behavior of -- I've finished this task, Ma is still clearly working away, what more can/might I do to help her? At this point, clear and firm orders is the only method of getting him moving. He's in his own head/world/space and my needs and what I find important are like little mosquitoes in his ears.
Ah well. In the end, all was accomplished, thanks to help from two lovely friends, and many long hours. G did a tour about the house with a screw driver, fixing various things. He left his portion of his room well straightened up, helped clean and put back up the material on the ceiling, helped me replant some tomatoes... the list goes on. Fifteen years old and so gracious and helpful. I will miss him! I'll have to hire him back to help replace the roof someday.
It's a general rule that doing things with a child takes at least twice as long as doing for said child. So, I heaped my plate full and dealt.
But, the house is clean, organized, and newly inhabited. The garden is straightened up, the tomatoes growing, the potatoes under the dirt delicious, my tress of garlic from my garden is long and full, the pool is perfectly clean... What more could I ask for?
And, I am in a caravan/camping car just in front of my home on the property of my neighbor. My neighbor offered this solution to me (as well as his garage for all the stuff I removed from the house) earlier this spring as I realized that I wouldn't be spending this summer at the winery. Thus I've moved into 1.5meters x 2.5meters. And most astonishingly, most of my stuff seems to fit into this space, alongside a bed space that is barely 6ft (180cm) by 130cm (4ft plus a teeny bit). I've set up my outdoor divan (an extra long shipping pallet with a fold-out cushion/bedding atop) and put mosquito netting above it. I've moved over my hammock, my flower pots, a couple of outdoor tables, and all the necessary stuff -- shampoos, linens, spices, pots and pans, a small toaster oven, a coffee maker, food, etc.,
I'm remarkably comfortable there and yesterday being the first evening I slept in such a space, I actually slept pretty well. However, I will need to go to bed early in the evening as the birds and the morning light awaken me by 6.
Tomorrow I'll take pictures and put them up. Unfortunately I didn't get shots of my house in its perfection, but my new abode is ready for some documenting. I'll get those.
To give an example of the extent of his selfish and self-centered behavior. Friday after school, two nights before the renters arrive, he hasn't cleaned his part of his room. And, when his parents arrived at 10pm, neither they nor I had heard from him beyond the fact that he had a gathering at school to say good bye to his teacher. Thus, no vacuuming, no mopping, no stripped bed, no shelves dusted, etc., His parents shrug their shoulders. They're not going to do his job for him. They go off to have dinner at the local pizzeria.
I go to bed. I'm exhausted. Somewhere around midnight Leo lets them all in to clean up a bit. They leave me a brief note and the remainder (7Euros) that they owed me for the new door knob (which I finally handled, having waited 10 months for them to do so). No more. Leo then turns out the lights and locks the front door. I'm asleep through all this. But, I'm awakened around 1AM by knocking and a car honking. I go down. The child had forgotten his roller blades. And with barely a good bye, they are off.
If ever my children were to behave in such a manner I would dis-own them! Now, if only he will send me back the key to my brand new bike lock...
To put it simply I am beat. I attempted to do just a wee bit too much -- but, how could I not? That's my nature. I blended tremendous amounts of detailed cleaning and organizing with teaching moments. AKA -- Please do your room(s) yourselves, clear out your stuff, give me the clothes for Michigan (for my boys) separated from the clothes that stay here. Tell me what toys are going to Arles and get them ready, vacuum, dust the shelves, mop, strip your beds, clean out your drawers... you get the picture. I only attempted help with their own rooms. But even so it was exhausting. At one point I said to Leo, alright, if you can't do things on your own, then come with me and we'll do all the rooms together. I brought him into to mine and started ordering him about, up and down the stairs with things to be put in storage, cleaning supplies to be gotten, rugs to be moved, etc.,
Leo has a good heart, but he has bones made of lead. Sitting and contemplating getting up to help me is far preferable to leaping up and doing. Hence, I'll ask something of him, and he'll still be sitting 5 minutes later. This drives me batty, and I come and nudge, badger, push, and eventually raise my voice. So far, we manage. Eventually he gets up to help, but then -- like as not -- sits back down quickly after.
Will I ever instill in him the thought/behavior of -- I've finished this task, Ma is still clearly working away, what more can/might I do to help her? At this point, clear and firm orders is the only method of getting him moving. He's in his own head/world/space and my needs and what I find important are like little mosquitoes in his ears.
Ah well. In the end, all was accomplished, thanks to help from two lovely friends, and many long hours. G did a tour about the house with a screw driver, fixing various things. He left his portion of his room well straightened up, helped clean and put back up the material on the ceiling, helped me replant some tomatoes... the list goes on. Fifteen years old and so gracious and helpful. I will miss him! I'll have to hire him back to help replace the roof someday.
It's a general rule that doing things with a child takes at least twice as long as doing for said child. So, I heaped my plate full and dealt.
But, the house is clean, organized, and newly inhabited. The garden is straightened up, the tomatoes growing, the potatoes under the dirt delicious, my tress of garlic from my garden is long and full, the pool is perfectly clean... What more could I ask for?
And, I am in a caravan/camping car just in front of my home on the property of my neighbor. My neighbor offered this solution to me (as well as his garage for all the stuff I removed from the house) earlier this spring as I realized that I wouldn't be spending this summer at the winery. Thus I've moved into 1.5meters x 2.5meters. And most astonishingly, most of my stuff seems to fit into this space, alongside a bed space that is barely 6ft (180cm) by 130cm (4ft plus a teeny bit). I've set up my outdoor divan (an extra long shipping pallet with a fold-out cushion/bedding atop) and put mosquito netting above it. I've moved over my hammock, my flower pots, a couple of outdoor tables, and all the necessary stuff -- shampoos, linens, spices, pots and pans, a small toaster oven, a coffee maker, food, etc.,
I'm remarkably comfortable there and yesterday being the first evening I slept in such a space, I actually slept pretty well. However, I will need to go to bed early in the evening as the birds and the morning light awaken me by 6.
Tomorrow I'll take pictures and put them up. Unfortunately I didn't get shots of my house in its perfection, but my new abode is ready for some documenting. I'll get those.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Getting ready for the renters
Yes, it's that time of year. A glorious time to enjoy good weather (should and if we be blessed with it). A time to be with friends, and...
Oh yes, a time to prepare the house for renters, badger the kids to go through their stuff, clean from top to toe, behind, beneath, between and beyond. A time to go mildly insane (not helped by the fierce and chilly gusts of the unseasonal Mistral winds). A time to work till I drop, break finger nails, turn my hands into sand paper, and drop weight without noticing.
The first step is to remove things - from the bed rooms, from the walls, from the kitchen shelves, from the bathroom, from all over the house -- to render the house both more neutral, but also more open for its summer occupants.
So, out go all the winter things, into boxes all the fragile and personal objects/dishes/etc., streamline the kids' toys, re-align the books, purge the old, the used, the not necessary, sift through the sheets leaving only the presentable ones (perfectly folded). And then, when the surfaces are clear, the spaces nearly bare, begin to clean and clean and clean. Cobwebs off the ceiling, dust off the shelves, grease and baked on things in the oven, crumbs and spills from the fridge. A once a year scrubbing with bleach in the shower (with a septic tank, t'is not recommended)...
As I rent my house from the day after the end of school, it is all particularly stressful as here I am trying to put order into a space fully lived in. Never a pleasant nor easy task.
The change from last year is that rather than heading off to the winery with simply my summer clothes, necessary papers, and a couple of favorite cooking utensils in my car, I'm moving into a tiny camping car on the grounds of my nearest neighbor. Thus, I'm not moving far away (this is a bonus), allowing me to take care of my garden and pool for the renters rather than pay another person to do so. But, nor am I moving into a furnished space. I'm camping. Thus, what do I need? What will I use? Spices? Pots and pans? Linens? My rice cooker? Italian coffee maker? dishes, salad bowl(s), wine glasses... and food, olive oil, wine? What will I eat? Will I serve anyone in my more restrained circumstances?
And what about my wardrobe? I've already pared it down, but... it certainly seems to visually take up about 4 times more space than the tiny closet in the camping car. Dear dear... what's a girl to do? Five weeks of summer, future tango balls, hiking, biking, outings and more ahead of me... A girl needs her things, no?
Each day I go through more, sift out more, remove and pack up more. And, thank goodness, my neighbor has space in his garage to store all my things. But as the pile grows higher and broader, he says to me rather nervously, "you will be removing these things after the summer, right?" And I reassure him that of course I will, as promptly as I can.
Did I mention that there isn't a garage or an attic or a spare room in my house? I rent it all, and thus I do what I can to stash things under the stairwell, in handsome antique suit cases (which double as side tables), in trunks (that decorate the walls), etc., even under beds. But...
I remember that huge hanger/garage at the winery where so many things could lie forgotten from various past lives, children, etc., Here, this is not possible. We are all obliged to do a full Feng Shui (Fu Sui in Japanese) yearly. Do you no longer play with these? out they go. Do you no longer wear this? out it goes. Is it broken? damaged? out it goes. Make room, clear a space, relinquish, and banish.
Though this week is brutal, I know I'll be peaceful and content slowly and selectively moving back in at the end of August. I just need to get through this week, and then... The adventure of camping begins. This should prove to be a very interesting summer.
Oh yes, a time to prepare the house for renters, badger the kids to go through their stuff, clean from top to toe, behind, beneath, between and beyond. A time to go mildly insane (not helped by the fierce and chilly gusts of the unseasonal Mistral winds). A time to work till I drop, break finger nails, turn my hands into sand paper, and drop weight without noticing.
The first step is to remove things - from the bed rooms, from the walls, from the kitchen shelves, from the bathroom, from all over the house -- to render the house both more neutral, but also more open for its summer occupants.
So, out go all the winter things, into boxes all the fragile and personal objects/dishes/etc., streamline the kids' toys, re-align the books, purge the old, the used, the not necessary, sift through the sheets leaving only the presentable ones (perfectly folded). And then, when the surfaces are clear, the spaces nearly bare, begin to clean and clean and clean. Cobwebs off the ceiling, dust off the shelves, grease and baked on things in the oven, crumbs and spills from the fridge. A once a year scrubbing with bleach in the shower (with a septic tank, t'is not recommended)...
As I rent my house from the day after the end of school, it is all particularly stressful as here I am trying to put order into a space fully lived in. Never a pleasant nor easy task.
The change from last year is that rather than heading off to the winery with simply my summer clothes, necessary papers, and a couple of favorite cooking utensils in my car, I'm moving into a tiny camping car on the grounds of my nearest neighbor. Thus, I'm not moving far away (this is a bonus), allowing me to take care of my garden and pool for the renters rather than pay another person to do so. But, nor am I moving into a furnished space. I'm camping. Thus, what do I need? What will I use? Spices? Pots and pans? Linens? My rice cooker? Italian coffee maker? dishes, salad bowl(s), wine glasses... and food, olive oil, wine? What will I eat? Will I serve anyone in my more restrained circumstances?
And what about my wardrobe? I've already pared it down, but... it certainly seems to visually take up about 4 times more space than the tiny closet in the camping car. Dear dear... what's a girl to do? Five weeks of summer, future tango balls, hiking, biking, outings and more ahead of me... A girl needs her things, no?
Each day I go through more, sift out more, remove and pack up more. And, thank goodness, my neighbor has space in his garage to store all my things. But as the pile grows higher and broader, he says to me rather nervously, "you will be removing these things after the summer, right?" And I reassure him that of course I will, as promptly as I can.
Did I mention that there isn't a garage or an attic or a spare room in my house? I rent it all, and thus I do what I can to stash things under the stairwell, in handsome antique suit cases (which double as side tables), in trunks (that decorate the walls), etc., even under beds. But...
I remember that huge hanger/garage at the winery where so many things could lie forgotten from various past lives, children, etc., Here, this is not possible. We are all obliged to do a full Feng Shui (Fu Sui in Japanese) yearly. Do you no longer play with these? out they go. Do you no longer wear this? out it goes. Is it broken? damaged? out it goes. Make room, clear a space, relinquish, and banish.
Though this week is brutal, I know I'll be peaceful and content slowly and selectively moving back in at the end of August. I just need to get through this week, and then... The adventure of camping begins. This should prove to be a very interesting summer.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Images come to mind
Okay, I'm not going to obsess, but as you can imagine, seeing JP for the first time in two months set images turning in my brain. The one that seems most true, most potent to me is the following:
I see him as hard, dur, placing limits, strict demands, exigeances, sticking to what is correct, ordonné, structured, rational, definable, negotiable (on his terms), holding to the good manners of his upbringing, holding to his status in his local society.
I see myself as fluid -- where he puts up walls, and sets strict limits, I infiltrate. When he tries to box me in I overflow. Where there's warmth I expand.
But, where he tried to impose his structure on me, to rigidify me, I became brittle, fragile, breaking like ice.
Taking this image a step further, is he earth? and if so, clay? baked clay? dried clay? glazed? Does his hardness hold water? absorb water? or become soft with the addition of water? -- At the moment, I'd say the first. But who knows, someday perhaps he'll get over some of his issues and open up to a future person. I wish him well.
I see him as hard, dur, placing limits, strict demands, exigeances, sticking to what is correct, ordonné, structured, rational, definable, negotiable (on his terms), holding to the good manners of his upbringing, holding to his status in his local society.
I see myself as fluid -- where he puts up walls, and sets strict limits, I infiltrate. When he tries to box me in I overflow. Where there's warmth I expand.
But, where he tried to impose his structure on me, to rigidify me, I became brittle, fragile, breaking like ice.
Taking this image a step further, is he earth? and if so, clay? baked clay? dried clay? glazed? Does his hardness hold water? absorb water? or become soft with the addition of water? -- At the moment, I'd say the first. But who knows, someday perhaps he'll get over some of his issues and open up to a future person. I wish him well.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Being an ex-girlfriend
I say this in jest. And yet not. Wednesday this week I brought four quiches and a pan of ginger sablet cookies to the winery as my contribution to the reception of 15 Japanese guests and wine importers and general all-round wine drinkers. Long ago when this date was set we'd agreed that I'd do half the preparation and assist in receiving this particular group (after all I do speak Japanese). And so, even after the break-up, we agreed that we'd still do this hosting together.
I'm pleased -- and proud -- to say all went quite well. Dietary restrictions were accounted for (vegetarian and lactose intolerant), all were fed and watered and entertained in the manner hoped for.
It was weird and a bit tense to be there working alongside JP. And yet it was also extremely easy and fluid. In this context we work well together and always have. Whether it's setting the table, doing last minute cleaning (the windows were more than a bit dusty), dressing the salad, serving, clearing, passing, etc., we divvy up the tasks like the partners we used to be.
He wondered if his importers had noticed the difference in our behavior. And I had to break it to him that they called me 'okusama' (honorable wife) and repeatedly inquired/stated how lovely and relaxed living in such a place must be. I corrected them a couple of times, saying this was his house, that mine was in Avignon, etc., But hey, after a while, it gets a bit tedious. Let them have their dream. The photo sessions after the meal were amusing though -- obviously with the vintner, and then with me, and then between us.
We spoke a tiny bit outside of the situation, JP and I. We quickly got past the how've you been? and the family? and sales? etc., etc., He told me he's been working his way slowly through the Hendrick Harville book on couples -- but found some of the examples pretty extreme (judgement, judgement...). I encouraged him, and made a couple apropos comments as to how interesting it was for me to realize the various issues I have to work on/accept in myself, and that his presence in my life had been just the ticket to bring them to light.
He was a touch miffed that his importer hadn't been more attentive to the relationship between them -- it being now over ten years that they've worked together and seen each other in their mutual countries. They'd barely exchanged a word throughout the afternoon. I agreed with him that it is an ideal to have professional relationships also be friendships, and not always attainable. He was also distressed that the group climbed into the bus without saying proper goodbyes to him (they had to me though.. but I'd followed them out to the bus). I reminded him that he'd been aside looking at the map with the chauffeur, and that in good Japanese style, he should have been by the bus door saluting them as they departed. It was not their habit to come looking for the host to say a special goodbye. Thus a brief exchange between us on the outward appearance of good manners versus true sincerity and affection (tut tut... that could apply to another I know...)
We then got to work cleaning all and everything and putting his house back into order. I then took my cases of wine, my bottles of olive oil and some freshly washed salad (he'd purchased too much) and with a short hug (my initiative, but he responded well to it). I was on my way. No need to extend the visit beyond its purpose.
As I drove home, I mulled over our short conversations, the ease of working together, the fact that yes, the attraction is still there, but so are all the reasons we're not a couple any more. And I left him back there to his house, his family, his mother, his fragile ankle, his strict manners, and all that he has built and chosen.
Erick called me then, and I confirmed that the people arriving at his house were to pay him directly -- thus a profitable evening -- for the cooking class. And I said to myself, goodness, what a truly superb ex-wife and girlfriend I am. Not only do I not harbor bitterness nor torture them nor make them suffer, I even contribute to their bank accounts! Can I rightly be proud of this? Or is that rather perverse?
In any case, it is likely to be me cooking dinner for his wine tasting weekend in July. T'would be a job I would enjoy. Matching food to wine is always fun.
I'm pleased -- and proud -- to say all went quite well. Dietary restrictions were accounted for (vegetarian and lactose intolerant), all were fed and watered and entertained in the manner hoped for.
It was weird and a bit tense to be there working alongside JP. And yet it was also extremely easy and fluid. In this context we work well together and always have. Whether it's setting the table, doing last minute cleaning (the windows were more than a bit dusty), dressing the salad, serving, clearing, passing, etc., we divvy up the tasks like the partners we used to be.
He wondered if his importers had noticed the difference in our behavior. And I had to break it to him that they called me 'okusama' (honorable wife) and repeatedly inquired/stated how lovely and relaxed living in such a place must be. I corrected them a couple of times, saying this was his house, that mine was in Avignon, etc., But hey, after a while, it gets a bit tedious. Let them have their dream. The photo sessions after the meal were amusing though -- obviously with the vintner, and then with me, and then between us.
We spoke a tiny bit outside of the situation, JP and I. We quickly got past the how've you been? and the family? and sales? etc., etc., He told me he's been working his way slowly through the Hendrick Harville book on couples -- but found some of the examples pretty extreme (judgement, judgement...). I encouraged him, and made a couple apropos comments as to how interesting it was for me to realize the various issues I have to work on/accept in myself, and that his presence in my life had been just the ticket to bring them to light.
He was a touch miffed that his importer hadn't been more attentive to the relationship between them -- it being now over ten years that they've worked together and seen each other in their mutual countries. They'd barely exchanged a word throughout the afternoon. I agreed with him that it is an ideal to have professional relationships also be friendships, and not always attainable. He was also distressed that the group climbed into the bus without saying proper goodbyes to him (they had to me though.. but I'd followed them out to the bus). I reminded him that he'd been aside looking at the map with the chauffeur, and that in good Japanese style, he should have been by the bus door saluting them as they departed. It was not their habit to come looking for the host to say a special goodbye. Thus a brief exchange between us on the outward appearance of good manners versus true sincerity and affection (tut tut... that could apply to another I know...)
We then got to work cleaning all and everything and putting his house back into order. I then took my cases of wine, my bottles of olive oil and some freshly washed salad (he'd purchased too much) and with a short hug (my initiative, but he responded well to it). I was on my way. No need to extend the visit beyond its purpose.
As I drove home, I mulled over our short conversations, the ease of working together, the fact that yes, the attraction is still there, but so are all the reasons we're not a couple any more. And I left him back there to his house, his family, his mother, his fragile ankle, his strict manners, and all that he has built and chosen.
Erick called me then, and I confirmed that the people arriving at his house were to pay him directly -- thus a profitable evening -- for the cooking class. And I said to myself, goodness, what a truly superb ex-wife and girlfriend I am. Not only do I not harbor bitterness nor torture them nor make them suffer, I even contribute to their bank accounts! Can I rightly be proud of this? Or is that rather perverse?
In any case, it is likely to be me cooking dinner for his wine tasting weekend in July. T'would be a job I would enjoy. Matching food to wine is always fun.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Soon the school year will be over
The school year will be over soon and my two young boarders (the girls having left end of December) will soon be off in their different directions. I will miss G very much -- he's been a huge help, a dear soul, good-humored, taking initiatives to help clean, chop wood, mow the lawn, burn the garden clippings, etc., Truly, a lovely young man. Next year he'll be entering the Compangnons -- the modern day cathedral artisans' guild to become a master carpenter.
But, for our other young man? Well, I've the feeling he's burning bridges as fast as he might. He made an effort at different times this year to get along, to be helpful, etc., but, apparently, it was always an effort. And now, that effort is finished with. We've clashed strongly twice in two weeks now. Monday evening is not a good time for us.
Last week he freaked because I'd permitted G to use his bicycle when G's was out of service. In retaliation, he let the air out of both tires and would have happily left G stranded at school in such a state. G managed to get the tires pumped up and came home on said bicycle, but I didn't see him before I saw M and gave him a serious piece of my mind. How could he be so obscenely selfish and petty? Oh I went into a litany of things, that he uses all my affairs, that we live in a community, that it had been a necessary loan, etc., He got upset, slammed his door and hid out in his room.
And tonight it was over being helpful and giving me a hand cleaning the house this weekend. He simply hadn't felt like it... (I'd left him to be with clients, but had specifically asked that he vacuum and mop the kitchen and the stairwell).
I'm afraid that if anything makes me more berzerk it's selfish and petty behavior. My kids know that it's just not permitted, it's just not acceptable, it's repulsive and to be banished, it's... well, you get the picture. To put it simply, Jonas plays with Leo's toys, and vice versa, ditto for bicycles, and most everything else in this house. And both my boys were roped in to help clean the garden, the pool, and now the whole house for the renters. This is just how life is. You help when your help is needed and requested and you put aside your petty preferences till the job is done. Life is not a 24 hour party. (or only if you make it so by loving and helping and being delightful).
So, I'm afraid, zen as I try to be, accepting and adapting as I've tried to be... I must admit that I'll say good riddance when at last this child doesn't share our home. Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be. I hope, I trust, we all learned something this year about coping and getting along when your personalities just don't fit, but... it's time for the lesson to be over. Though, before he goes, there's a little remaining task -- I insist that his room be as it was when he arrived: immaculate. Either he, or his mother, take their pick.
But, for our other young man? Well, I've the feeling he's burning bridges as fast as he might. He made an effort at different times this year to get along, to be helpful, etc., but, apparently, it was always an effort. And now, that effort is finished with. We've clashed strongly twice in two weeks now. Monday evening is not a good time for us.
Last week he freaked because I'd permitted G to use his bicycle when G's was out of service. In retaliation, he let the air out of both tires and would have happily left G stranded at school in such a state. G managed to get the tires pumped up and came home on said bicycle, but I didn't see him before I saw M and gave him a serious piece of my mind. How could he be so obscenely selfish and petty? Oh I went into a litany of things, that he uses all my affairs, that we live in a community, that it had been a necessary loan, etc., He got upset, slammed his door and hid out in his room.
And tonight it was over being helpful and giving me a hand cleaning the house this weekend. He simply hadn't felt like it... (I'd left him to be with clients, but had specifically asked that he vacuum and mop the kitchen and the stairwell).
I'm afraid that if anything makes me more berzerk it's selfish and petty behavior. My kids know that it's just not permitted, it's just not acceptable, it's repulsive and to be banished, it's... well, you get the picture. To put it simply, Jonas plays with Leo's toys, and vice versa, ditto for bicycles, and most everything else in this house. And both my boys were roped in to help clean the garden, the pool, and now the whole house for the renters. This is just how life is. You help when your help is needed and requested and you put aside your petty preferences till the job is done. Life is not a 24 hour party. (or only if you make it so by loving and helping and being delightful).
So, I'm afraid, zen as I try to be, accepting and adapting as I've tried to be... I must admit that I'll say good riddance when at last this child doesn't share our home. Sometimes, it just isn't meant to be. I hope, I trust, we all learned something this year about coping and getting along when your personalities just don't fit, but... it's time for the lesson to be over. Though, before he goes, there's a little remaining task -- I insist that his room be as it was when he arrived: immaculate. Either he, or his mother, take their pick.
I'll try not to bore you - Neighbors and things
Just in case all this "being in the present" and "reveling" etc is becoming tiresome, I'm here to assure you that stress is still present, as is sheer physical exhaustion. It's fun to float on clouds on occasion, and then things like an over-full septic tank come up to tap you on the nose. But, happily (or perversely?) I've become quite a regular for the septic cleaning people here -- this being the 4th year in a row -- and so they came within an hour of being called. Is this odd or what? I'm a privileged client to Sud Vidanges... Hey, at least I can testify to their professional behavior and friendly demeanor.
No doubt next year it will be the neighbor's time to empty his, and he'll forget, and it will overflow, and my back yard will smell till I urge him to cope, and ... But that's a year away. Today, all is roses.
But speaking of neighbors... I've two out of three who are fine. Of these two one is lovely and helpful, a little brother, the other innocuous and almost never there. But the one who is a bit off? Well, I've rarely come across a more stingy and selfish character with the absurdly false self-image of being "très gentil". Ha! mesquin is the term one would use. And remarkably so. If it doesn't benefit him personally, even if it would be in the interest of good relations, even if it were la chose correcte à faire, he won't do it. He's rather the type to chop off his foot to spite his toe.
And so, as I go out onto my terrace I see half a wall poorly redone. One of his outside walls gives onto my terrace. And so, he sent a mason over to resurface it to limit water damage in the winter etc., But rather than do the whole wall and split the cost with me, he did the absolute minimum -- fast and dirty. Ahhhh I could go on and on. But I won't. He's simply like that. Nothing I can do about it. If I want a prettier wall one day, I'll just do it, if the graces permit me to have the funds to do so.
Neighbors... it is such a source of either joy or pain or amusement. I enjoyed my first soirée sur une péniche the other night. Great fun, good people, good music, entertaining conversations. Most had heard of me (the American, the one who bakes bread, the one who has all those kids...), so they had an image in their minds before I arrived. However, I was able to impress at least one with my local truffle lore and foie gras knowledge. He exclaimed that I couldn't be American! I had to have French blood in me! Another spoke at length with me about how rare it is for Americans to truly settle in France. We visit, we romanticize, we contemplate, but the American who actually stays and makes a life is rare. Far more common are German, Dutch, English and folks from the North.
I've often felt this, that people hesitate to befriend you if they think you'll leave one day. What's the point of investing in a friendship if the person isn't going to be there till death do you part? Or something like this.
We laughed over our mutual neighbor -- the farmer who's been on the island for a few generations. He considers the péniche people upstarts and intruders, and there have often been disagreements between them. Many an islander considered their property line the Rhône itself. Thus, when the boat folks hooked up to the banks, they invaded the farmer's territory. It has been a quiet war ever since. This explains the fact that this farmer shoveled out only the road that left his farm this winter after the major snow storm. The other side (that would have led to my road...) he left a meter deep. Neighborly generosity? Thinking of others? Not.
Somehow, and mostly peacefully, we all co-exist. I've a beautiful house in an amazing place. And if the nice and helpful out-number the distant and persnickety, I consider myself on the winning side.
No doubt next year it will be the neighbor's time to empty his, and he'll forget, and it will overflow, and my back yard will smell till I urge him to cope, and ... But that's a year away. Today, all is roses.
But speaking of neighbors... I've two out of three who are fine. Of these two one is lovely and helpful, a little brother, the other innocuous and almost never there. But the one who is a bit off? Well, I've rarely come across a more stingy and selfish character with the absurdly false self-image of being "très gentil". Ha! mesquin is the term one would use. And remarkably so. If it doesn't benefit him personally, even if it would be in the interest of good relations, even if it were la chose correcte à faire, he won't do it. He's rather the type to chop off his foot to spite his toe.
And so, as I go out onto my terrace I see half a wall poorly redone. One of his outside walls gives onto my terrace. And so, he sent a mason over to resurface it to limit water damage in the winter etc., But rather than do the whole wall and split the cost with me, he did the absolute minimum -- fast and dirty. Ahhhh I could go on and on. But I won't. He's simply like that. Nothing I can do about it. If I want a prettier wall one day, I'll just do it, if the graces permit me to have the funds to do so.
Neighbors... it is such a source of either joy or pain or amusement. I enjoyed my first soirée sur une péniche the other night. Great fun, good people, good music, entertaining conversations. Most had heard of me (the American, the one who bakes bread, the one who has all those kids...), so they had an image in their minds before I arrived. However, I was able to impress at least one with my local truffle lore and foie gras knowledge. He exclaimed that I couldn't be American! I had to have French blood in me! Another spoke at length with me about how rare it is for Americans to truly settle in France. We visit, we romanticize, we contemplate, but the American who actually stays and makes a life is rare. Far more common are German, Dutch, English and folks from the North.
I've often felt this, that people hesitate to befriend you if they think you'll leave one day. What's the point of investing in a friendship if the person isn't going to be there till death do you part? Or something like this.
We laughed over our mutual neighbor -- the farmer who's been on the island for a few generations. He considers the péniche people upstarts and intruders, and there have often been disagreements between them. Many an islander considered their property line the Rhône itself. Thus, when the boat folks hooked up to the banks, they invaded the farmer's territory. It has been a quiet war ever since. This explains the fact that this farmer shoveled out only the road that left his farm this winter after the major snow storm. The other side (that would have led to my road...) he left a meter deep. Neighborly generosity? Thinking of others? Not.
Somehow, and mostly peacefully, we all co-exist. I've a beautiful house in an amazing place. And if the nice and helpful out-number the distant and persnickety, I consider myself on the winning side.
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