The Little Words Mean the Most

From Fraunce: For Johnsy Meyers

This post dedicated to John C. Meyers, special friend, one-eyed photographer superb, and song artist. Johnny Boy, we took a hike. Make that into a song. The supermarket was celebrating is Fair of Wine. Make that into a song, too. L-r: the oratory dedicated to world peace we ran across on the hike; nice chestnuts, baby; the view; the viewees; the foire aux vins at Carrefour, the solar system's second largest chain; our favorite bakery as Simone's buys the bread and sweety-treaties; our one-horse (one stoplight) town at the crossroads.

From Fraunce: For Sally Kirby Hartman, APR

Sally, Norfolk Community Foundation, tootled me off to Fraunce with high hopes that I'd begin her pressing project here. She'd been working almost a year on getting approval. And, Sally, I will and have. But, chum Sally, the quotidia [events of the day] do intervene and here is my photographic proof. L-r: turning pallets into firewood; walking to the fruits & legumes store for dinner ("Toutes Directions" is our favorite sign because it's so useful -- it always tells you how to find your way out of strange towns); shopping at Castorama, the French equivalent of Home Depot; and organizing the tools.

From Fraunce: For the Moops

Laura and Greg Laramie, our official best friends, have joined us in France at the house a couple of times. Greg's an architect. Laura's an artist and (I recently realized) a brilliant photographer. They love exploring little towns. They're fun and relaxed. We four travel well together and we miss them. We dedicate this view of Avenue St. Thibery, i.e., the street that runs along the back of our house, shot from our top-floor terrace to the Moops (short for Laramoops, our nickname for them). What brought me outside with a camera? Saturday night at dusk and suddenly, QUITE LOUD, a snake charmer's flute fired up. Then a drum. Then children's goofy voices. The town was celebrating something at the Salles des Fetes. Valros is a growing town with a lot of young families. To the Moops, with love:

From Fraunce: For Jim & Lisa

This post dedicated to Jim and Lisa Rattray, most intrepid of travelers. They rented our house in Valros a few years back and discovered the Les Creisses vineyard in the very middle of our little town. (In truth, the vineyard is easier to spot from satellite than from the street.) We can now buy this excellent wine a 3-minute walk away at our local fruit & vegetable store. Les Creisses, the eponymous wine, costs about 10 euros, mid-upper range by French standards. It's made purely from Carignan grape, a regional staple that can be rough as scouring pads in the wrong hands. In this instance, though, the grape is masterfully handled, the taste divine. But that's just the beginning. The pride of the litter from this small vineyard is called Les Brunes and costs 27 euros, an eye-rolling sum in France. We'll be tasting that as soon as Jean-Claude, the family wine cornersewer, arrives this weekend. Les Creisses was the first wine after the airplane, when we were too tired to eat more than a bag of potato chips. A toast or three to Jim & Lisa, our friends, for finding this place. It is one of our town's gems.

On the Brag Board

"Tom, You're becoming a bit of a legend in my office and I thought I'd drop you a note. My name is Kurt Haenicke and I run development communications at Illinois Institute of Technology in Chicago. Your books are required reading for my team..." Also on this day: two of my book titles appear among the top 10 "best sellers" at the AFP online bookstore.

Maintenance is life

How tightly can you cross your fingers?

Until the nails turn blue. UPDATE: It didn't help.

Outside chasing the rabbit

There's a certain quality to sunlight late on a near-autumn afternoon. It's like the light is being packed in a suitcase and taken away for a long time.

Using my "laser" scope with the bright red bead, I put a sharp lead pellet into his/her buttocks to hurry him/her along. He/she looked offended but quickly took "my point." I could shout after in French, "I eat your push-up sticks for dinner with a nice sauce!"

I had a reaction to my flu shot ...

... (and that was) I pumped up the tires on my mountain bicycle and went for a one-hour fat-shearing ride, my first of the 2009 season. Felt good. Walking taller.

Laramoops have a boitday

Greg's 1,267 years old. Laura's about 11 going on 16. The menu, all from the farmer's market: pasture-raised local beef made into sliders, served on toasted cinnamon bread; with sugar corn on the cob. Preludes: (1) hard-boiled quail eggs served with lavender jelly; (2) watermelon radishes. Dessert: Simone's best standard Clafoutie, a light crust thick with fresh peaches, blueberries, and raspberries.