Sunday 18th July.
Today is Peg’s birthday. My wonderful, infuriating and unique Mother would have been 88 years old. She died less than two weeks before Tony and I got married in 2004, but not before she gave us a fashion parade of potential outfits she might wear to the wedding. I still miss her terribly and kick myself for spending the first 45 years of my life arguing with her. Missing Kelly too.....I have so little contact with Liza it's hard for me to miss her, but Kelly is such a big part of my life, and Allie too of course, and there is a part of me that needs to be filled by them...and the cats of course......Missing Oliver especially.
I slept badly, despite my hopes the night before - the stairs are crippling my bad knee and hip and I am in horrible pain at night. Katie and Sam sleep in and Tony takes his sisters to Mass…( it’s the third time he’s been in four weeks after a 45 year break). The Catholic church in France is in dire straits and many of the parishes can’t afford to keep the churches going. So Mass is said at different villages each week, on a roster system. This week the sisters fluke it for St Quentin du Poterie. The little village is known as the main area for potters in Provence and the church is a genuine 12th century delight. Both of them are thrilled and in a good mood when they get back….though a little Christian charity would go a long way - as B refused to embrace Tony ( he’s a sinner!!) when everyone else was greeting each other.
In the supermarket B is attacked by a HUGE flying monster! It turns out to be a cicada. The cicada is the symbol of Provence and is used everywhere as a decoration. But the real thing is far more spectacular. About 5cms long with heavy wings - they come in every colour and pattern you can think of, and the cacophony at sunset is something which has to be experienced to be believe. They are harmless but, nevertheless, one attacked B….. I like to think of it as a cicada hitman! Once over the shock though, B describes it….like everything else….as amaaaazing!
The afternoon was supposed for the kids and us to tour Uzes. We almost think of it as “our” town now and want to show it to everyone and listen to them ooh and aah! But somehow we get stuck in the town’s one and only internet centre where Sam and Katie argue because they haven’t booked their three night stay in Venice and now they can’t read the websites in French and there’s nothing available that they can afford. Very harsh words are exchanged - and I put in my two cents worth and call Katie to order. To her great credit my step-daughter listens to my diatribe on the thinks you DON”T say to a man you love without telling me to mind my own business, Add to that the frustration of a Non-Qwerty keyboard and tempers are ready to explode - mine included. What a topsy-turvy, up and down holiday this is turning into. I don’t know where I am from one day to the next. I am very re-active to other people’s moods and all I really want to do is relax.
We end up doing nothing and driving home in silence. It’s after 7pm and we have wasted nearly three hours. I am making pasta with Chorizo and an artichoke salad….B asked before we left if she could help so I asked her to wash the lettuce. She did…thoroughly! One leaf at a time! And dried each leaf thoroughly too. I have never known lettuce to take two hours to prepare before. I could have plotted a half hour of television in about the same time. It’s infuriating when I know I should be grateful to her for wanting to help. But I have never been one to appreciate “help” in the kitchen….. Except when someone clears up the rubble of the bomb site I generally leave after preparing a meal.
The pasta is average, I’m over looking after everyone - the kids are still not speaking and are drinking way too much - The fabulous apricot tart doesn’t get the glory it deserves, and all in all I am TOTALLY over Tony’s family at this moment. We play some stupid card game and then relive our youth by playing Beetle, a silly dice game where you draw a beetle. Strangely enough it’s therapeutic. Sam’s beetles look so ridiculous that before we know it we are laughing and Katie and Sam are in love once more and we all let out a sigh of relief. Tomorrow they leave - and the day after the sisters will be gone. If I can just hang on till then.
No comments:
Post a Comment