New Year 2011
With our yule celebrations behind us, we began to slip into milder days in the Provence, though not immediately. We let the wood burning stove die down and have used the veranda for our brunches and dinners – keeping it warm and saving on our dwindling supply of wood. I had completely forgotten the Christmas Eve mass at the church which was one of the things I had wanted to do and did not realize this until Stephen and Roberto mentioned it over champagne the following day when we visited them. O, well, there's still next year. And at least Richard and I got to listen to the Queen's Christmas Day message that Stephen had forgot. Basically, with Heather's help,I have started the attempt to set up my website. It's a slow going process thatScott only underscored it would be when he unsuccessfully introduced me to iweb which subsequently became unresponsive. I have also been belabouring T-Mobile to give me my unlock code for my Samsung Galaxy. It took a half-dozen phone calls before they finally sent it, and then I had a whole SIM card meltdown. On this occasion, Natacha saved the day on the last day of the old year – translating the faster-than-light automatic voice choices, finding that all the options given only re-started the whole recording, and calling every number possibility we could find. Finally, I was able to enter the unlock code only to get a message that my attempt had failed, but we found that the phone was now working. It was an exhausting and uncertain victory.
At the end of the day after xmas, within a half hour, the skies opened and deposited a thick covering of snow. The silence alone was blissful, but the next morning we actually had sun, and the ubiquitous sparkling white lacey-ness was a magnificent beauty. And by the end of the day, the snow was all gone.
Some more wood arrived by the 28th but greener than what we had had and all the more difficult to keep alight. But an even better turn the same day was Petit Claude's delivery of a repaired Marionette, so we were able to get to the Nice Aeroport the following day with her to collect Charlie and Suzette on their return from Egypt. Their flight was several hours late, and since we needed to get them back to the airport for an early morning return flight, it was already dark both times, and they missed being able to see the varied and almost always beautiful Mediterranean countryside.
While here for a short stay, Charlie's mother died. It was not unexpected, and she had been in a long downward Alzheimer's spiral. But at least, over the phone, it provoked a reconciliation between Charlie and his sister. He and Suzette took us to us to a delightful meal at the Grand Hotel in town.
Over the holiday period, we were able to connect by phone with Shirley, Rosalie, Toni, Peter & Shirley, and John (in Glasgow). We learned that Wee Frank is back in the hospital. On the last full night of the year, I dreamt of attending a party at Liz and Carol's. Shirley MacLaine was one of the guests; a pregnant Denise from Bath was another. That day I baked a tamale loaf and an apple crisp for the delightful New Year's Eve party at Pascal and Adele's in Fox-Amphoux. Keeping to form, we could not find the house, but I was able to phone on the now working mobile. We think we can now find it on our own when we go in a few hours to re-collect our casseroles. We were sixteen in all, and I was able to see once again one of my favourites here in Aups: Liliane. Always looking beautiful. And I met for a first time one of Adele's oldest friends, Marie-Laure, and look forward to seeing more of her in the future. Everyone at the party was aimable, poli et doux.
But I felt our contingent was a collective Cinderella having to rush away at midnight or shortly thereafter. It was a less than four hour sleep before we began the drive back to Nice at 06:30 on New Year's Day. I was astonished over how many vehicles were on the road at that hour – attesting to the celebrations that we had to abort so early and which was just as well. We left Charlie and Suzette at the airport (I only know that their connecting flight in Paris was delayed by hopefully no more than an hour). With difficulty we finally located Barbara's hotel (the All Seasons), and then we headed back to Aups with little more than an hour to spare before we were to meet Penny and Hamish and go to Sibelle's annual New Year's Day party in some utterly remote location (aren't they all?) but with a stupendous panoramic view that included Mt. Sainte-Victiore. (And that is if I have spelled Sibelle's name correctly).
Stephen had remarked on both occasions when I saw him how remarkable a cross-roads Aups is. This magical village - with its seven roads leading in and out, associated with Caesar's having reputedly said that he would prefer to be first here than second in Rome (perhaps not meant to be a compliment but putting it at least on the historical record), and with the medieval abbaye's mosaic map that puts the town at the centre of the world - is all times full of surprises. At the well-attended party somewhere off the road to Lorgues, with champagne, paella and desserts galore, Penny and Hamish thought that I had much in common with Rosalie Basten and introduced me. It turns out that she is the one who has sponsored the Esoteric Studies programme at the University of Amsterdam, knows many of the same people as do I, has a home in Amsterdam on the street that is at the end of ours, and has an olive farm just down the Route de Tourtour here in Aups. I think it was great fun for both of us to meet each other, and Rosalie remarked that it was the first time here that, beside olives, she could talk 'about the other side of her life'.
Needless to say, it was an early night for Richard, Barbara and me. Today, the gentleness and warm meilleur vouex et bonne années greetings in town this morning during the croissant run further underscore the joy and completeness in being here. My wish is and remains a happy new year for everyone and, while 2010 was a splendid year for Richard and me, may 2011 be the same and even better for each of you.