A Harrowing Experience

“He fell! He fell! He fell!” I yelled as I ran for the curving staircase from our 2nd-story bedroom down to the living room. 

Have you ever wondered what you would do in an emergency? That’s what I did. Yell to alert the others in the house and race in slow motion to the door to the outside. 

We arrived home today after three nights away. The kitten was in a tizzy - running through the house, jumping over furniture. 

He settled down for a bit as we relaxed after our drive. When I began to prepare for bed, he hopped onto the window sill. 

It made me nervous, but cats all over France hang out on balconies, window sills and evening roofs. In France, windows don’t have screens. That’s how we lean out to close our shutters at night and open them in the morning. 

As I pulled back the cover on our bed, I noticed the cat  watching something outside — a bird, a fly, a lizard. He scurried to one side of the ledge, then the other. 

“Louis!” I cautioned and he reared up on his hind legs to try to bat at something before he tipped over and disappeared head first to the concrete patio below. 

I didn’t stick my head out the window to see what happened, just ran for the stairs yelling as I went. 

Grace and Jack followed hot on my heels, but Earl was already downstairs. He opened the kitchen door and the kitten zoomed inside and hid behind a couch while everyone tried to slow their heart rates. 

We moved the couch and Jack extracted the scared kitten. Everything seemed intact. 

We began to realize that our 15-week-old kitten has fallen from a second-story window to a concrete patio and survived. 

We have to figure out how to put a screen in because I’m afraid with his kitten short term memory, he might continue to do the same thing tomorrow - back on the ledge, tempted by things that move and buzz or chirp. 

I’m so grateful he’s okay. 

Hotel Room Musings

We've spent a lovely few days in Nice.

The port

I walked and ran more than 23,000 steps yesterday exploring the city,

I love the colors here

It reminds me a lot of St. Pete, Florida, now that it's so cosmopolitan. 

 and the weather was warm, but not as warm as it was inland, apparently.

The children relished playing in the mirror fountain in Nice

We used our credit card points to pay for this hotel room and it got me thinking.
Hotel rooms are different all over the world and even within yards of each other, but their little idiosyncrasies sometimes baffle me.
Since we're in Nice celebrating our 30th anniversary, I couldn't help but think that most marriages would not survive a bathroom door like this one.

Hard to get a good shot of it. 

It's not a shower door. That's the door to the bathroom from the hotel room. No latch, no lock, no seal.

You can see the black area where the door doesn't touch the frame. 

Yep, I'm glad we only had a celebration here and not a complete 30-year marriage with a door like this.
We're off on more adventures today. Thanks for reading.  

An Anniversary Celebration in Nice

The beach in Nice, France, is one of the most uncomfortable beaches I have ever been to.
Don't get me wrong, the city is beautiful and the vistas are breathtaking, but if you're in search of a beach to frolic along the Med, choose another place.

The rocky beaches don't keep families from the beach

I knew the beach in Nice was rocky when I made a mistake writing about a trip to Nice in my book The Summer of France. Luckily, a friend corrected me and I was able to go back and edit so that Fia's trip to the beach was filled with softly rounded stones.
My own trip to the beach might have been filled with worn stones, but I had no idea how painful they would be.
Before we went to the beach, I went to a beach shop and bought a 7 euro pair of flip-flops because I had forgotten to pack mine.
I foolishly thought that the flip-flops would protect my feet. They did on the walk down to the water, but the first wave that rolled forward washed a layer of stones between my feet and the shoe.  As I was trying to kick them out, I lost my flip-flop and it started to float away.
The water was chilly, so I sat down on the rocks and soaked my feet, each time another layer of rocks somehow covered my shoe, wiggling between my foot and the sole. Earl swam a bit, sans shoes; he must have tougher feet than I do because he stood on the floor of the sea. After awhile, we decided to head back to the towels. Here was the next tricky bit.
The descent to the sea is a bit steep. So I stood up, emptied the rocks from my shoes. I precariously balanced while I put them back on, only to have another avalanche of pebbles to fill my shoes before I could take my first step.
I realized that I could not walk up the incline with the flip-flops on, so I carried them,  yelping in pain while I climbed to the top of the embankment.
Another pause while I put my flip-flops on and then a brief walk to the towel where, you guessed it, I lay down on a pile of rocks.
It wasn't as bad as trying to walk.
I may have to go in and edit The Summer of France so Fia has as painful an experience as I did.
I have decided that old tennis shoes might be the answer to the rocky beach -- an old pair of converse would have kept the rocks out and saved the pain on my feet. I don't know how all those kids are running and swimming barefoot. I guess they get used to it.
But don't cry for me. This morning, Earl and I simply took the elevator up to the top floor and swam in the pool of our hotel.

This is the curve of the beach where we're staying to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary. 

The pool on our rooftop

The view from the rooftop

We came to Nice to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary, which was Tuesday.
We traveled with Grace and Jack to the Pont du Gard, the ancient Roman aqueduct,

An amazing feat built in the first century AD

then we traveled to Carrières de Lumières, where art is projected on the walls of an old limestone mine and brought to life.

We've seen three exhibitions here. This one was Gaudi and Dali. 

Then we spent the night in Aix en Provence before leaving Grace and Jack behind. We used our credit card points to book a hotel in Nice, and now we have a lovely break along the shore.
But you won't catch me swimming. If only I'd packed some old tennis shoes.

Chateau de Queribus

Another day, another castle.

Just kidding! I can never get tired of the amazing historical sights to see in France.
As we were driving back home through a small village, I had one of those moments where I was reminded of a different small village and good times we had spent there. I just thrill to the idea that this is where I live now.
Will it grow old or be outweighed by the amount I miss my sons and parents back home? It is harder with travel limited and knowing that I can't see my family if I want to.
Today's adventure took us to a former Cathar castle down near Perpignan. You can find a link to the website in English here.

Here's the castle atop the mountain as we drove toward it. 

But the first time it's mentioned in history is 1020. It was the last stronghold of the Cathars in 1255 before King Louis IX, St. Louis, took it over and made it a fortress for France along the border of Spain.

Looking for a room with a view?

Well, I can vouch that the view into Spain is fabulous. You can see the Pyrenees, down to the Mediterranean from here. But the wind climbing up to the mountain would have been enough to turn me around. Perhaps the soldiers were made of sterner stuff. (Obviously!) The views were amazing.

Selfie with the view behind us. 

It's nice to be out and about, showing Grace and Jack some of the sights in our part of France.

Plenty of air inside the castle. 

Goofy selfie -- just us standing out as Americans

Something divine inside the cathedral

 Although Grace had visited France several times before, she hadn't been to this part of southern France. And Jack's arrival is his first time on mainland Europe.

The soaring vaulted ceiling of the chapel

People are sometimes surprised to hear us speaking our accented French. They expect to only see French people in France because of the confinement, like the woman who sold us the tickets to the chateau on Wednesday.
She asked our nationality and I told her American, but that we lived in Quillan.

Wind-blown but enjoying the sunny day

We could see for miles and miles and miles and... 

We followed the chateau visit with a picnic in Cucugnan in the shadow of an old moulin, with a stop at the bakery underneath the windmill for some cookies for dessert.
More adventures to come!

Publication Day

Today you can get my latest novel Falling for Provence.

This is the continuation of the story of Fia, who traveled to Provence to help her uncle run a bed & breakfast. She found trouble and adventure, and guess what finds her again?
Fia struggles with the loneliness of raising her teenage twins by herself and somehow entwines herself in more art intrigue -- this time at the Louvre in Paris.
There's romance, adventure and family life, along with some folklore that could bring peace to the Middle East. Not too much for one Ohio girl to handle.
Here are the links for Falling for Provence on Amazon.com in the States.
Falling for Provence in the UK
Falling for Provence in France.
Also available on Barnes & Noble Nook at Falling for Provence.
And Kobo at Falling for Provence
Don't worry if you haven't read the first novel, The Summer of France. This one is a stand alone. But go back and read it if you want. It's free on Barnes & Noble Nook and Kobo.

That's a lot of links, but I'm asking you if you think you might someday buy my new book, please consider buying it today or this weekend to help new readers find my book.
As always, I truly appreciate your support and hope that you enjoy reading Falling for Provence.

Cover Reveal

In just two days, my new novel Falling for Provence will be released.

Don't you love this cover? Grandview Heights artist Janna Thompson-Chordas created it for me, along with redoing the cover for The Summer of France.
Falling for Provence is the second book in A New Life in Provence series, coming after The Summer of France. 
You can read this book without reading The Summer of France, but I have made The Summer of France free on Barnes & Noble's Nook platform and on Kobo

Thanks to everyone for your support. You can bet that I'll be reminding you on Friday in hopes you'll buy the ebook on Amazon.

France Reopening

First, let me say that it seems strange to write about normal life when my home country is in such pain. My heart is there. It is time for us to protect everyone and to make the words in our Constitution true - equality for everyone. 

Today, June 2, France took its next step and allowed restaurants and bars to reopen with social distancing and up to 10 people at a table. We have to wear masks walking in and walking out but can take them off at the table. 

We weren’t certain which restaurants would be opening on the first day. We did hear that the Fleuve was making renovations before opening on the 9th, and like an American, I wondered why they didn’t make renovations during the past three months when everything was closed. 

And the Colibri only opens from Wednesday through Saturday, so they weren’t about to open on a Tuesday. 

I took a walk this morning and as I crossed the old bridge, I saw the owner of the Palace putting out chairs and tables. I asked if they were open today and he said, yes, but not until 8. It was 7:57! 

I continued on through town and past the Promenade PMU. People were already filtering in for their morning coffee. A gendarme stopped to chat with the butcher before heading to the PMU where he was greeted by the regulars who hadn’t been there for two and a half months.  Everyone was jovial. 

The sun shown brightly as if blessing the reopening. 

After a shower, I wandered over to the Palace, choosing a table with a view of the old bridge. 

As I waited for Jules and Tina to join me, I snapped a selfie. 

Soon, the owner Michel came out wearing a mask to take my order, but decided he would wait until my friends joined me. 

That’s ok, I didn’t mind sitting in the sun and enjoying the first day back in a cafe. 

A Magical Labyrinth

Within a 15-minute drive of our house weaves a path through mossy rocks and trees shrouded in greenery.  It's called the Labyrinth Vert, or Green Labyrinth.

It felt like something from the dinosaur ages

There doesn't seem a lot there that is man made, as large boulders line the paths and trees look to be upholstered in green fabric.

The path through was clear, though. 

We lost track of the magical sights.

This tree had several trunks weaving together. 

We walked through the labyrinth then back, rather than making the loop after someone had told us the rest of the walk wasn't that interesting. It was just about 2 1/2 miles but we spent nearly an hour and a half meandering through the rocks and trees, stopping for photos and stories shared.

Why can I never look the right place for a selfie? Anyway, here's our group

Jim offering wisdom from his perch

The walk from the car to the beginning of the labyrinth took us past these historical sights, including an old windmill that was used as a lookout by the Germans during World War II, along with another now decrepit building that the Germans used.
Apparently, this was a good place to watch for anyone sneaking in or out of the pass below.

As you can see, another clear day in this part of France.

The walk amongst the trees wasn't too warm and other than occasionally clambering up and down some rocks, the hike wasn't too challenging.
We ended the hike with a home picnic at our friends' house.
I don't think we'll ever be able to see all of the interesting sights near our new home in France. I wonder if that's true no matter where you live if you just take the time to go exploring.

Sightseeing in Southern France

I'm feeling a pressing need to get out and show the sights to Grace and Jack since they've been housebound for nine weeks in France.
On our latest outing, they may have wished they were back in their snug bedroom.

In the morning, we took a hike with our friends Jim and Theresa. Jack didn't come along because his knee is out of commission, but Grace joined us.
We were going to hike through an old railroad tunnel that runs under a mountain.

The old railroad tunnel. 

We had some flashlights (thanks, Derrick) and the lights from our phones. At first, the tunnel had a few side exits that let in light. Then as we went farther, the dark became denser. Water dripped from the roof, splashing onto our heads or shirts.

The five of us venturing into the tunnel. 

According to my phone, we had gone about 1.5 kilometers into the tunnel, arriving at the some arches that overlooked the river, when Grace's claustrophobia kicked in. She could not go any farther!
Grace and I told the others to go on and we would walk back to the car.
So their beams of light disappeared and we were alone in the tunnel.
We started walking back toward the beginning of the tunnel. The light faded, the black closed in.
Gone were the lights of Earl and Jim bopping ahead of us as Grace, Theresa and I followed. Now, it was just the two of us.
And as we moved into the blackness, Grace made a break for it back to the arches along the tunnel, the overlooks, gulping in the fresh air.
"We'll just wait for the others to come back," I suggested. So we stood there, watching the river run far below.
After about 15 minutes, we wondered if the others might exit the tunnel on the far side and find another way to return to the car. That would leave us standing in the tunnel forever.
I tried to text Earl and unbeknownst to me, he tried to text me, but our signals were not going through. Obviously, since we were under a mountain.
As the wait stretched to 20 minutes, Grace and I decided we'd have to brave it alone. I suggested we sing a song as we walked, but we couldn't think of any songs we both knew all the words to.
Finally, I came up with the childhood song "This is the song that doesn't end..." We held hands and stepped into the darkness.
As we walked, we looked back and suddenly saw three faint lights moving toward us.
"Here they come!" Grace called.
And we waited for their return before walking out all together.
What a relief!
I can't imagine how exhausted Grace must be from the angst of claustrophobia.
We returned home to muffins and iced tea with Jim and Theresa before dragging Grace and Jack out for an afternoon adventure.  

We wove up mountains and down again on a circuitous route to Gorge de Galamus.
I'd visited there before with friends (Thanks, Kris and Derrick) but we had come in from the south. They assured me the view had more impact coming from the north, which led me to the winding roads.
The problem was, that both Grace and Jack get carsick. This was not the right route for them.
But eventually, an hour later, we arrived at the stream that carved the gorge. We waded a bit then drove on to see the gorge.

The gorge with the snow-capped Pyrenees in the background

View of L'hermitage from the other side of the gorge. It wasn't open on the day we were there. 

Jack, slowly recovering from his carsickness. 

Grace and Jack in front of the gorge

Me in front of the gorge, clutching my dress so it doesn't fly up, I guess. 

We drove home from the south. The drive was a straight shot on a nicely paved road. No mountains, no twists, no turns.
Well, another lesson learned.
They both collapsed into bed when we got home, recovering from their day of French adventure.

Blue Skies in the South of France

Finalement!
After nine weeks of quarantine followed by a week of rain, today dawned with a fierce blue sky and balmy temperatures.
Our daughter Grace and her husband Jack arrived three days before quarantine and we were already social distancing, so they have not seen much of France.
On Saturday, I dragged Grace along with me to pick up the chairs we purchased in Carcassonne. The rain had passed and we drove up to "La cité" which is the castle that hovers above the city.
And, of course, Jack felt like he had missed out. So today, we returned to let Jack experience the castle.

Although the ramparts aren't open, the rest of the castle and the shops within are. 

Very few people were wandering around the castle, so we got to enjoy feeling like we were back in Medieval times.

What's up with this sculpture? It's breasts are way off. 

Grace and Jack wander ahead of us through the city gates. 

We ventured inside the basilica and lit a candle for the world. 

The doors to the church are giant, as you can see from a comparison of me to the door.
 Notice the homemade mask I'm wearing

Grace and Jack removed their masks for this picture. 

We had some ice cream and sat on a concrete step to eat it, offering bites to a mottled cat who refused both bites of raspberry sorbet and hazelnut. A little sparrow, however, gratefully accepted bits of my ice cream cone.
The shops that are open are being very careful, insisting on hand sanitizer and plastic gloves for anyone entering.
We purchased an iron bell with an Occitan cross on it that Earl installed next to our front door when we got home.
And we also bought a few castle-related gifts for our nephews. We are trying to support local businesses, even if it isn't much.
Afterward we drove down to the "modern" city of Carcassonne and walked around. We got take out from a kebab restaurant and ate it in the Square Gambetta, until Grace accidentally gave food to pigeons and we had to abandon our park bench. Not really, but we did give her a hard time about the gathering, until a little boy on a scooter zoomed by, scattering the pigeons.
We have discovered that the simplest outings are exhausting these days.
I think it's going to take some time to get used to going out again. 

Lockdown Eases

On Monday, the lockdown in France eased.
We were allowed to go out without an attestation, a paper that said where and why we were going somewhere. The reasons were limited -- fulfilling essential needs, like medical or grocery, exercising within 1 kilometer of our home, or helping others who couldn't go out.
We weren't even allowed to go to the grocery with other family members. Only one person per car.
As of Monday, we are allowed to travel, no papers required, within 100 kilometers of our home. That's quite a bit for us. It includes Carcassonne, Toulouse, the Mediterranean -- but the beaches are still closed.
Andorra and Spain are also in are 100 kilometer area, but the borders are still closed to both of those places.
We were so excited to venture out of our house and to take Grace and Jack to see some of the beautiful places near us.
Remember that they arrived on Friday before the lockdown happened on Tuesday. Since then, they've been sheltering in our house, taking occasional walks and stopping at the bakery sometimes.
We debated going to an old medieval town and showing them the market. It's about an hour away.
But the weather forecast had other plans.
The forecast has been rain for the entire week.
Monday afternoon, we went about 10 kilometers away to Rennes le Chateau. As you can see from the picture, the weather was ominous. 

On a sunny day, the view from here is beautiful.

Rennes le Chateau is one of those mysterious places that has to do with a priest and sudden influxes of money that allowed him to build this tower among other beautiful structures.
Our next day out was planned for Wednesday. Earl and I needed to pick up our visas. In France, they're called carte de  séjour or titre de  séjour. They give us permission to stay in the country for another year.
We had our appointment on February 25th and received a text that the cards were ready on the Friday before lockdown. Obviously, we hadn't been able to retrieve them.
Strategically planning when to arrive and how to avoid long lines, Earl and I drove to Carcassonne. Grace and Jack decided not to come along because rain was once again forecast for the entire day.
The map on our phones took us right through Carcassonne rather than around it because traffic was so light. We found a parking spot a block away from the prefecture. We waited maybe 5 minutes for the security guard to allow us in. Another 5 minutes and our cards were in our hands. By 8:59 a.m., we were back in the car.
But wait! I paid for parking until 10 a.m., I wanted to protest.
In years past, we would go with friends and celebrate our new visas with breakfast in an outdoor cafe. This year, no restaurants or bars are open.
Instead we visited a home improvement store for paint and a used furniture store where we found chairs for our kitchen table.

The living room in the background is in a state of flux because the drywall is going up this week. 

Throughout the quarantine, this is how our living room has looked. Metal supports on the ceiling and along the walls. 

In preparation for drywall

Our builder friend Kris put up the boards a week before quarantine ended. How did we convince him? We had a new kitten arriving and couldn't allow it to hide inside unfinished walls. 

Next came the mudding, or as the British call it, plastering, to cover the boards. 

Now the walls and ceilings are complete and we are waiting a week for them all to dry, because everything is humid as we apparently are going through a rainy season. Soon we'll be able to do a few mist coats and then to paint.

A week ago today, we picked up our new kitten, Louis Catorze -- that's a play on the name Louis Quatorze, the 14th. The Sun King.


Louis is an upstairs cat right now as we work on the downstairs, but he's mostly fine with that because the stairs are a challenge to him.
The rain is scheduled to dry up next week, so we're hoping for some adventures then.
Meanwhile, our market has still been happening every Wednesday and Saturday with fruits, vegetables, cheese, honey and plants, so we get to walk around and make eye contact over our masks. And I heard even the coffee truck has returned, so I'm super excited to see all the vendors that arrive Saturday morning.