Odds & Ends

The church bell in Meynes chimes at exactly eight minutes before the hour, and again at twenty-two minutes after the hour, every hour, all day long.

We, in the old village, where streets are too narrow to keep bins outside, have to hang our garbage bags on a high place so the dogs & cats can’t get at them before they’re collected. My neighbor and I hang ours from the railing at the bottom of our stairs.

The French government has ordered that every village in France put on a music festival, so it’s party time all over the countryside. Last week, 15 of us showed up to hear the Klezmer band, Nomadeus, which was hired by the mayor for our little festival in Meynes. They were terrific, really fine musicians, and brought tears to my eyes when they sang My Yiddishe Mama. I ran up to the stage to tell them I was the only yiddisher mama in the village, in the region, probably. They told me they’ve been to Hollywood to make a record. Meynes, mein shtetle, Meynes, is getting into the big time.

This week, the festival of the toros begins and will kick off in the tiny square in front of the church behind my house. The poster on the Mayor’s office says, “Food and drink will be offered.” Maybe they’ll fix the chimes for the occasion?

The baker & his wife have sold the bakery. Next Tuesday it’ll change hands; I’m sad & disappointed. Caryne, the baker’s wife assures me I’ll be very happy with the next baker, and will find many delightful surprises, but I’m anxious about this. Not

only are Caryne’s husband’s croissants the best in the world but, apart from the usual fine pastries you’d expect to find, he also makes special cakes. If they give me the recipe for one that I loved, called Moelleux Citron, I’ll send it next time.

On the subject of food, many of my friends in the region grow their own vegetables and keep chickens. Stephan gave me a zucchini the size of my thigh (!), and Pierre gave me a basket of eggs that were laid that day. I rushed home to poach them and eat them on top of a fresh croissant. Three stars!

As for wine, the owner of our very own Meynes Château Fornier Clausonne, M. Seydoux, who produces some of the finest reds, whites & rosés of the region, (languedoc rousillon) is also a Hollywood producer, & his company is Gaumont.

Last week I went with Stephan & Marie to the music festival in Avignon, with free music offered all over the old city. Imagine ten thousand of us dancing the cha-cha on the street in front of the Palace of the Popes, swaying to jazz on the steps of the Cloister of the Carmelite Convent, and bopping to hip-hop on the Place des Corps-Saints. We rode the carousel set up in front of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame des Doms, under the watchful eye of the golden Madonna on top of the hill.

The big subject of debate this week is the wearing of the burka in France. Sarkozi doesn’t like it. I haven’t seen any burkas around here but I see many women with headscarves in the villages of Provence. It’s funny to see a young girl wearing a double headscarf, heavy eye makeup, and a sexy mini dress.

Last, but not least, every station on French radio talks about the death of Michael Jackson. It headlines all the newspapers. He was loved by people all over the planet – including me. Adieu Michael. I’ll miss you.