End of 2022

End of 2022

It has been a steady five exhausting weeks of unpacking boxes, sorting and figuring out where to put books, kitchenware, clothes and linens. I have tried to do at least two boxes a day and am now down to the last seven or eight. But I have now more sheets, towels, blankets, bedspreads and clothes than I could possibly ever use. Endless sorting lies ahead along with figuring where to donate much of the excess. And I have not even begun yet with the paintings which are being stored in our rented garage. The kaleidoscope of memories that has been impacting both Richard and myself as we open box after box has been nostalgically intense. He seems to have recovered for the most part from his slipping and falling at the Gare de Lyon. And on top of everything, we are thrilled to be in the Midi and, between fatigue, enormously happy.

Amsterdam itself had been also utterly exhausting with the constant packing and decision-making on what to keep, what to abandon and what to put next door in our rented room in the hotel. On the 23rd of November, we had an enjoyable dinner and time at Stephan & Koen’s. Sylvester arrived on Thanksgiving with his van from London and stayed to the following Monday. He was a great help, and we went out for two meals: the Heiligeweg Mexican

restaurant one night and De Kas on the Sunday for which Santima joined us. November’s Soteria was the second talk by Heward Wilkinson on Platonism and Consciousness since the Renaissance. Our only museum experience was a brief visit to the Foam.

The movers came the day Sylvester left and finished on Tuesday. They were great and never complained about anything. Whatever we wanted, they took. Only a couple of things got overlooked and were left behind. Our last night in Amsterdam we slept in our new room. We like the flat and still have the view of the gracht. But during the night of 1 December, I became incredibly dizzy, and this lasted until I reached Paris later in the day. At Marie-Laure’s, Jamie made a delicious and healing chicken soup. Meg was also there as well as Marie-Laure’s niece Alice. The following day we went to the moving Frida Kahlo exhibition at the Palais Galliera and that night was Anahuacalli with Camille & Toby, Robin, Jamie, Meg, Marie-Laure, Richard & me. And although I was coming down with a bad cold, it was still a fun and pleasant time. The next day, Sunday, however, I spent entirely in bed. Robin came by at one point and chatted with me. And next was the train to the south with Penny meeting us.

The movers arrived the next day along with our delivery of wood. The lorrie could not get onto our property, so all was carried or transported with the Mercedes from the Chemin des Prés itself. Richard was totally out of commission, but Penny and Virginie assisted muchly. We watched the setting of the indigenous sun for the start of the yuletide. The following week, Virginie and Penny both came again and moved our three stair of wood which had been put outside our inner garden because of the movers to the inside. We saw Doctors Martinez and Moreels that day for Richard’s cardiology appointment and then Moreels again the following day, the Ides. The next day, the chimney sweeper arrived, and we can now heat with the Goudin and the kitchen hearth. We buried the old year on the 15th.

On the 16th, James Pace came for lunch. The living and dining rooms that he had painted look good. He will do the kitchen, bedroom and stairwell after we leave. That night at Penny’s we watched The Lost King with Sally Hawkins. I enjoyed the film very much. We had a happy and stoned Saturnalia at home just the two of us. Overall, we have had both very cold, some rainy and a good number of sunny days since we have been at the farm. On the Divalia, we visited the Gréjons and then Pâris, Ocean and Liliane. It was both sad and lovely. The next day, Natacha, Jonathan and Jonathan’s sister Veronica came to us for dinner.

My Larentalia musings which completed our yule celebrations, however abbreviated they have been this year, included my museum defence and criticism of employing the stereotype as a means of attack. Museums are more important now since they house cross-culture collections & in a world of energy conservation and environmental awareness, travel willbecome less in the future & we’ll access the terrestrial other through our museums, concerts and internet. And the stereotype is not a broad enough concept. What, perhaps ought, takes precedence is a collection of types and a range of overlapping behaviour. I also considered the philosophy of telluric appreciation vis-à-vis Platonic transcendentalism.

Christmas Eve, which we usually do not celebrate, was dinner chez nous with Penny, Jacqui & Tony who arrived at 19:00. It was a pleasant evening with champagne and red wine. Then

we all went to the church and sat with Natacha, Jonathan & Veronica for the 23:20 peasant procession to the altar including three lambs. It was moving and pagan. The young, young

innocent faces were the highlight. We left as the midnight mass was to begin. Xmas itself was for us a 5:2 fasting day, but Boxing Day’s luncheon party at Penny’s was a feast with Macia

& Phil, Jacqui & Tony, Darren, Patrick, – 17 of us altogether. Everyone was enjoyable; the champagne & wine & foods were all delicious. We had walked over and then walked back with Joanne. Our second 5:2 was the next day Tuesday. Then on Wednesday, Natacha, Jonathan and Veronica came to us, and then we all went to the Calaou bar and had drinks (& a great time) with Joanne, Yvonne and Joanne’s great-nephew George & his wife Myra. Richard and I had margaritas.

Thursday’s film night at Penny’s was Amsterdam with Christian Bale and the stunningly beautiful Margot Robbie. Much of it seemed silly, but I enjoyed it all the same. The acting was good, and even though it was a partially true story, much was unbelievable. The Business Plot was highly reminiscent of Trump and the 6 January storming of Congress. On Friday, we

finally got to the Café du Cours for cappuccini. Audrey greeted us warmly. Penny came for dinner. And for the last day of the year, we met Natacha, Jonathan and Veronica for late morning coffees at the Café du Cours during the marché. My opportunity for reading has been less than minimal, but I have been enjoying immensely (when I can get to it) my former student Karel Bouse’s Finding the Phoenix: Seven Tools for Transformative Self-Discovery. Tonight, we will ritualise and have daquiris and may even get to bed before midnight. Apart

for the loss of Lynne, Marlowe and Renaud, 2022 has not been for us a particularly bad year. In fact, it has been a good one for which I remain humbly grateful.