How Do You Write a Blog when the Readers are in the Rain?!

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How do you write a blog when you can't stop pinching yourself? How do you take your fingers and apply them to a keyboard? And, how do you write a blog when the sun has shone almost unfailingly for seven weeks now when friends at home until recently were still reporting weather of 9 degrees and rain?

Well, you write when the Canucks have made it into the finals of the Stanley Cup and I can report that it is TOO hot here. Maybe dear readers are in a good frame of mind. Maybe spring has come in Canada. And, well, if not.... Go Canucks?!

Settling into Sommieres has been immensely easy. I have decided that the Languedoc region is indeed one of my favorites - close to Provence, countless interesting sites, the beach about a 35 minute drive away and easy access to pick up and drop off friends at both the airport and train station in Montpellier. The house is a dream. The neighbourhood calm (except for the livestock and perhaps the gypsies next door...).

I made the comment one day that I was not really missing home at all. Without skipping a beat, a visiting, wise friend then commented, "Well how could you be, Nancy? You brought your favorite friends with you, you are connected to your Blackberry and your office and you have Skype!". This is too true - in an age of connection, perhaps we never really need to feel disconnected. While there have been moments when I have longed for home, my definition of home has shifted subtly. When I was sick with a cold but committed to a few days in Italy, all I could think was that I wanted to go home. And at that moment, home was the comfort of Sommieres, not West Vancouver.

The connectedness means that I can Skype my brother and see my little nephews in living colour. It means that my friend Andy can contact me and bring me up to date on the news of the church, his health and how his dear wife Betty is doing. It means that I can get a good look at Justin's new baby girl and see how she has changed in the few weeks that I have been away. And, it means that I can keep up on Canadian news (did I mention "Go, Canucks?"). Although, with the gift of space, we often get to look at the absurdity of life. I must admit, when last week I was reading through the articles online at the Globe & Mail, I had to guffaw. Honestly, a top story was the report of a newly appointed Canadian senator narrowly escaping with his life after hitting a moose with his car in Newfoundland as reported by his aide, Stephen Outhouse. Outhouse - Really? You can't make this stuff up! I look at the reports of the stock market daily and am struck by the fact that, on balance, the TSX looks pretty much the same as when I left. Yes, the dollar is a little lower, but in the scheme of things what we think is important in the moment gains a little perspective with distance.

There are so many experiences here that I want to share with you there. Not "man hits moose" stories. But little stories. About how, when watching a triathlon in my home town Sommieres, I was almost in tears as I watched the man missing his lower leg hop out of the river after his swim, stopping only to put on his prosthetic leg before hitting the bike. About with my bad French realizing that I had told the waiter I was pregnant instead of full - no wonder he laughed at this grey-haired 50 year old. And I thought we were sharing a lovely conversation! About how my daughter and I just spent the last half hour with her teaching me how to waterpaint. She realized that she probably should have started with something simpler - painting the whole backyard with the pool, the olive and fig trees just a little too ambitious. (She then had me take a pencil and sketch my hand without looking for practice of something to do with feeling one's inner artist. A big shout out to the wonderful people at Synthesis Design who sent me on my way with a sketchbook, pastels and pencils - you know what you are getting for Christmas framed for your walls!). When would Tiana and I get to share these moments?

There is scenery that would make you catch your breath. Wines that are both cheap and excellent. Yes, this blog is being written after a glass of wine. But wine becomes a part of daily life - not abused - you rarely see drunks on the street and if you do, you know they have different problems. It will be immensely difficult to come back to Canada and pay "retail" again. Wines that are lovely can be had for but a few Euros. As friends have come and gone, the wine inventory has waxed and waned but mostly held pretty steady. The last inventory check suggested we were down to our last 44 bottles of wine. As only nine of these were white, my first instinct was "Oh, my gosh, we are getting low on whites. We better stock up." Huh? At home, this would be a surfeit!

Life is good, wherever we are. But these weeks will become precious - the gift of time - to fritter, to use well, to learn a language, to cook or to read - the things I get to do here are not always the things I get to do at home. And so, I take another deep breath, pinch myself once more and realize that, yes, I am truly in France. Happy. Calm. Contented. Even speaking passable French when needed. This is good.

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Comments

[Lynne]

Missing Languedoc...and you!
Hi there my friend - I can see you now...on the deck in the sun, sketching your hand without looking. I only wish I was there with you still! Much love - Lynne

[Leah]

Great blog
Hi Nancy, I loved reading your words and hearing how grateful you are for being able to spend all of this time in France. These memories will last you a long time. Best wishes. Leah ( Lynne's sister-in-law from Nanaimo.)