Well it doesn’t look like Matt is going to do an entry before he returns so you’re getting a double-bill from me to fill the void. I’ve mentioned before that Matt has appalling luck with the TGV: well they outdid themselves for his trip to Paris last week, but I shall leave him to recount all the gory details. For me, I got back from dropping him off that afternoon, whipped up and ate a dinner of Thai chicken with coconut sauce and then went off to my second rehearsal with Musique en Herbe.
I’ve now been there several times and am beginning to get used to their chaotic and seemingly random modus operandi. I think a lot of the chaos has its origins in Alain Astier, the organiser and heart and soul of the association. Our friend Morgan knows him and told us that he used to be really stressed out, manic and highly strung, but he calmed down a lot once he retired. The idea that we have met a toned down version of Alain makes me very glad we didn’t know him before, and somewhat amazed he hasn’t keeled over of a heart attack. All of 5’5″, he is a diminutive whirlwind of nervous energy, the sort of person who interrupts himself as ideas bubble out of him. But for all his mania, he has a real passion for the association, the kids, and music that I can’t help but respect.
So, my second practise with MeH was a repeat of the previous week: we did a load of songs I’d never heard of before, and so cannot play. The one song we did that I had been told to practise, they play in a totally different key. I also had some trouble getting all my equipment set up how I like it so all in all, especially with the intense heat, it was not a very happy evening and I was becoming more than a little frustrated with the whole thing.
At the end of the night, I pulled Alain aside and asked when we were actually going to get around to playing the songs we were doing for the gig, instead of jamming to seemingly random ones. He looked at me blankly and said, “but you are doing all of these songs”. By this point I’d definitely had enough and it was 1.30 am so I came home in a black mood and poured myself a stiff vodka. I finally fell asleep around 3, only to be awoken at 7 am by Louis and a mouse, So my Saturday got off to an early start.
I decided to use the time to do some work for our anti-wind-farm movement, VIAPL. I’m their unofficial (and, sadly, unpaid) graphic artist and they wanted a series of maps putting together to show all the wind turbine sites, with coloured zones indicating over what distance they will be heard and over which the vibrations will be felt. In the afternoon I went to St Pardoux for a few supplies including some potting soil, and finally got around to repotting my poor Yucca tree. I had leftover chicken for dinner and then comforted a rather upset Smoo in front of a film or 2 before turning in. He’s always bad with one of us being away and was distraught I’d been out the previous night, so has been clinging to me like glue of late.
On Sunday, I had another band rehearsal with Musique en Herbe and made my way over there in a confrontational mood. I got there early so I could talk to Alain, and I’m now much more positive about the concert. No-one had really explained to me the composition of the band before. I learned that the group as a whole is called Musique en Herbe and collectively, we’re going to be playing about 25 songs. Within this group is a sub-group, called Music’ Friend. It is to this group that Matt and I are formally attached and with them we’re doing about 8 songs. Then Matt and I will be doing 4 songs from our own repertoire, along with members of Musique en Herbe. I’m very relieved to finally have a list of what we’re playing and in what key! I’m even more relieved to have cleared it with Alain that I can choose whether to play on anything else that the wider group is doing – which I almost certainly will not, given how little time remains. With that out of the way, the practise was actually quite positive. It was just Music’ Friend (minus Matt of course) and we went through all our set without too much trouble. There are a couple songs, both by a French group called Téléphone, that are challenging but I’ve time on my hands this week so I’m sure I’ll get there.
Monday was the eve of La Fete Nationale, or Bastille Day. I was invited over to Giles and Miriam’s that evening for dinner. This required a little bribery on my part as the Smoo was not letting me out of his sight and would have followed me up the road, so I gave him and Louis a treat and sneaked off as soon they were distracted. I have been reticent to get too pally with G&M. Matt’s become good friends, but what with the whole path incident and subsequent fall-out (Mazeroux’s infamous ‘Pathgate’), I’ve kept a little distance. However I have to say that every time we see them they’re nothing short of lovely, and very interesting company, so they’re winning me over.
We had a walk around their lake and then apéritifs out on their patio. Neither are big drinkers, so the apéritif was actually sparkling water (a first for me, I must say) but I’d brought a bottle of red so luckily it wasn’t a totally dry meal. Miriam made a vegetarian couscous dish that was very tasty, followed by cheese and dessert. We chatted a bit about this and that and it was all very cordial. The one slight hitch was both of them saying they don’t really like or trust Josiane (the head of Milhac Loisirs). Now, Josiane is a very head-strong person it’s true, but she also has a heart of pure gold and is one of my favourite new friends from our French adventure, so they lost points for that.
After the meal, they talked about heading down to Thiviers to see the fireworks. In France, about half of the Bastille Day celebrations happen the night before as everyone has the actual day off, so can lie-in and nurse their hangovers. I was initially all for it, especially if they were driving, but as I strolled back to get a pullover, I was accosted outside Lucien and Mauricette’s by the Smoo who’d clearly come looking for me. I walked him back home and he was so pleased to see me that to my shame I told Giles and Miriam I was tired and was going to get an early night instead. There must have been some fireworks at St Pardoux as well as we heard a lot of bangs here, which brought Louis scurrying inside to join his equally panicked brother.
Over the next few days, the weather that had cooled down to a lovely 28 began to climb ominously again. I had a few outdoor chores I wanted to do, and was up early enough on Wednesday to do so. I trimmed our grape vine and wysteria and did some weeding in the veggie plot. I also gave the latter an additional water as it was due to reach 34 that afternoon and it was already suffering. That evening I had another social event: I was invited to Bryan and Carol’s to help celebrate Bryan’s birthday. In attendance were a couple we met at the recent Fete des Voisins, Ute, a chap called Roger, and a couple called Mandy and Ron. Remember Colleen, the lady who sold us her business at the end of last year? Mandy is her sister, and a very lovely lady too. We were supposed to have a BBQ, but I think Bryan had gas bottle issues so the food was cooked in the oven, but we ate outside and it was a very pleasant if still very hot evening.
Thursday however was to show me that I hadnt seen anything yet. It hit a peak of 38 degrees and was sticky and infernal all day long. Both cats just shut themselves down and slept through it all. I tried to stay cool under the fan and do some work, but it was too oppressive. I gave the garden a midday water and at the same time collected our first harvest of the season: a dozen or so tomatoes and a courgette. To my immense relief, a storm rumbled out of nowhere that evening and we even had 10 minutes of light rain, which I ran out and stood under with glee.
Yesterday was mercifully cooler, peaking at 30. I needed supplies and had some cheques to drop off at the bank, as well as new cards to collect, so I went off to Nontron. I parked in our usual place, wandered through the side street and emerged into a scene of utter devastation. The main road was all cordoned off, the air was thick with the stench of smoke, and stone and debris littered the street. I learned there’d been a house fire that had started the previous evening. The fire brigade had been there all night and were still putting out the last of it and clearing crap away. One man and his cat apparently died in the blaze. They don’t yet know if it was arson, an accident, or simply weather related.
I had to take a detour to get to the bank, which rewarded my perseverance, as it so often does, by being randomly closed. I fared a little better in Super U, but was reminded how much tourist season pisses me off: prices go up, stock keeping goes out the window, and none of the Dutch or English know how to work the scales for weighing your fresh produce. I’ve been slowly tidying the house over this week and did a bit more that afternoon. I also relocated around 50 spiders to the garden and destroyed a dozen egg sacks. I’d like to report that this has made a big difference but I don’t think I’ve even dented their booming population.
That evening was Musique en Herbe night again. I arrived early, got everything set up ok and did a couple songs with our sub-group. I’d been practising all week and so was more at ease with most of them and have fallen in love with one in particular which is a joy to play. We also agreed to delete a song I wasn’t getting on with at all well so that was all positive. I earlier described the Friday jams as disorganised but I’m beginning to learn that there is a system of sorts and the wider group has been sorting through and whittling down a large list of potentials and deciding who is playing what instrument on what song. Alain had obviously taken heed of my outburst the previous week and told me if I didn’t want to do any given song I could sit it out. Now I’m comfortable with my core set, I’d like to try and learn a few of theirs too, but it’s all very time critical now.
At the end of the night, they actually sat down with a sheet of paper and a pen and started to write out a definitive list. I was somewhat amused that as this process went on, more and more of them started to get stressed and complain that there wasn’t enough time left before the gig and why hadn’t they finalised this list sooner. All I could think is “what’s the French for I told you so?”
As a wee coda, I went to bed very late last night, unable to sleep after band practise. The Smoo made two failed attempts to get me out of bed this morning, around 8 and then 9. He finally went off in a huff and let me be. When I got up I discovered that an empty food bowl was the source of his vexation so I now feel like a very bad parent, and am being given the cold shoulder. Right, that’s all from me. I shall conclude the story of my week alone in my next entry, assuming I have anything to report! Bon weekend.