Married September 6th, 2014

Robert and Kelly were married September 6th, 2014

at Des Moines, WA Beach State Park Auditorium

Can't believe we are not in France anymore

May 10th was the last post we made. We left on the 18th of May. It was a busy last week getting the last most we could in the last few days of France. But we are back at home now. We spent time in Palm Springs, Redmond, WA and this weekend we are going to Juneau.

Half way to Monte Carlo from Marsellie. Took us about 3hours to get there, we took the slow rout for the first half of the drive. May 17th.

Spring, Roses, France!

Most the Roses are fully opened. This one was peeking right out. Just past the wheel barrel on the right is the door to our little place. Cheers!

A 4 hour hike from 3pm to 7pm. We wallked half way around our "cirque" where Les Salces is. Great views and it was such a nice sign to see a real road and know that we were still in the right place.

Do not listen to your girlfriend all the time. In the middle of a 4 hour hike and she wants to know if I can click my heels. Next time I'll say, "no" (okay, probably not, I have to show off.)

Dolmen Discovery

This is a "dolmen," ancient stone structures originally built as shrines respecting a religious order, but are now handy climbing opportunities for passing American tourists. This is Kelly testing the resiliance of this particular dolmen's roof. A couple thousand years of standing didn't impress her and she had to test its durability herself. 


There are swarms of these things in the hills around Les Slaces.

Here is a picture of Robert in front of one of the many hundreds of vinyards both secretly and openly ripening in the Lazarc valley. We went on a walk down a long dirt road to stumble upon yet again, another vinyard. In France the wine is subsidized and there is no one grape on the label (except when you buy chardonney or something specific). Otherwise you have no idea what you're drinking and are simply satisfied with how it tastes rather than what it's made of. 

Here is a picture of St. Privat, the village just down the road from Les Salces. It has been held over the centuries by the strongest retaining wall EVER.  It's extremely charming and exquisitly bucolic with a quiet babble stream, coo-cooing pigeons fluttering above the bell tower, wild roses bursting red and the smell of fresh thyme and rosemary wafting in the occasional breeze. Only when you walk up it's impossibly steap and narrow streets do you hear the pulsing of a French teenager's boom box eminating Amerian rap from an open window. Suddenly you realize you've not been warped into another time when donkies were still the go-to mode of transport and the road outside your cobblestone house also doubles as your sewer.  However the latter concept does still hold true for the dogs. 


We sit now with empty wine glasses and bellies full of another greatly executed meal and look forward to tomorrow, another market and another opportunity to buy a fresh supply of crispy bread, chewy meats and a full bottle of olive oil. And thus the procession begins all over again--search, purchase, cook, eat, savor, drink copiously. 


Bon soir!

Frog legs

We look at this and think, "Frog!" The French look at this and think, "Meal!"

To bad the sound didn't come out so well. The loud fussy noise is from the camera (our digital photo camera, not video camera - we don't have a video camera). If you were able to take out the fussy noise and increase the noise of the frogs and amplify it about 4 more times you would learn why the French eat frog legs.

Happy May Day

 Every May day should be as happy as this May day. Sunshine, whispy clouds and smiles. Robert took the pain and pulled the sun glasses off the eyes, Kelly took the smart route and simply smiled.

 Clamouse! Where we spent May Day! (in St. Jean De Fos). We missed our opportunity to buy May Flowers - Lillys to celabrate May, but Robert still had Kelly! Un petite fleur belle!

 See how happy?

The plaid hides the gut from all the yummy French food the Belle has been making Monsieur. 

BELLE!

Est prochain, on bois du vin. Bon Soir!

Onion Soup

The sky in Les Salces has finally greeted us with a bright blue smile. The evening approaches and Robert sautes a mountain of onions and drizzles them with a light local red wine Domaine Jordy which we are told is very bon. So far all the wine is very good!

The smell of warm onions frying in thick butter and booze woke me from my petits siesta (which is becoming a Heavenly addition to our unscheduled days). The table is set with the remaining loaf of flax sead bread we bought at the Lodeve market yesterday and occasionally I slice off thin layers and generously smothering them with buerre. In France, butter is in a class of it's own and many regions boast of their particular brand. The butter aisle in the store is just as large and diverse as the wine. It would not only be rude but dumb not to indulge in one of the national ectacies. 

Since it is Sunday and no markets are open, we are making sport of consuming every item of possible spoilage. Monday morning will bring the village bread van and I'd hate to miss him a fourth time! We are now determined to achieve French onion soup to the standards even Julia Childs would commend! So I fear we have a long way to go, but the way is paved in buerre, and that is fine with me. 

Bon nuit.