White walls livened up with posters from the flea market in Beziers.



10/25 & 26 Saturday & Sunday

We went into Beziers to check out the open-air, organic produce market that Simon told us takes place in the plaza in front of an old church every Saturday morning. Before we got there, we discovered a flea market in Allee Paul Riquet, the tree-lined opened space in the very center of town. Lots of neat old stuff and a smattering of new junk. We found posters at two euros apiece that will go well on our bare white walls – a couple of alcoholic beverage advert posters and four featuring fruits and flowers. Made the day, which was fortunate since there were no pleine aire (free range) organic chickens in sight, no chickens at all, at the organic market, our reason for going to Beziers in the first place.

Then we headed out to the Castorama for our digital satellite receiver. On the way, we ran into a used furniture store that Dom had described. He said there’d be cheap chairs there. There were but they weren’t right for us. There were also some gorgeous larger solid wood pieces of furniture that had clearly been pulled from old family homes by a younger generation who preferred chrome and glass – out of our price range and no place to put them but fun to browse.

On to the Castorama, a Home Depot sort of place where we bought the coat rack a few days before. We found the display of tuners at the end of the very last aisle and bought the one with the biggest SALE sign on it. Unfortunately, after hours of noodling around with it back at the house, it doesn’t seem to work. The plan is to return to Castorama and try to discern the problem. But in amongst all those tools on display, I picked out a hand saw and sand paper. I plan to make a wooden handle to replace the plastic one that broke on the fridge. Good excuse for more manly tools.

I picked up Sharon at the train station Saturday afternoon. Good to see her. Home in time for a cuppa before heading over to the Hotel Residence for dinner. We exchanged gifts – the girls traded cookbooks and Sharon brought a tin of some sort of anchovy spread for me. Vera, Sharon’s mate from Southampton who has visited us both in the States and in France, made a small patchwork quilt depicting a French house with the word “Bienvenue” (Welcome) hanging from a clothesline above it carried aloft by little birds. It’s a wall hanging so we found a bit of molding and, with the assistance of my newly acquired saw, placed it prominently in the main room.

Sharon had a bit of news that took us by surprise. She’s put in her notice at work. She’ll stay on until end of term in December, she’s a nurse who took a teaching position at a local college a couple of years ago, but then she’ll be at loose ends. She’s sending out her resume and will no doubt land on her feet, but she’s very nervous about the idea of being without even the prospect of employment. It was the right thing to do for her, though. They demanded 60 hour weeks and, although the students and her colleagues were pleasant enough, Sharon found herself rising at 6 AM and falling into bed exhausted at 9 PM. Not a good thing for a woman who enjoys cooking and crafts and such.

The food at the Hotel Residence in Nissan-lez-Enserune continues to impress. The Sans’ were there for our arrival and escorted us to our table. Cathey asked Philippe to choose her dinner for her while Sharon and I perused the menu. I’ll spare the details except to say that all was just fantastic – from the little mis en bouche to our desserts. The Sans’ left after seating us – our waiter explained that it had been a very busy day – but returned as we were leaving. For the first time, Bernadette gave me the double cheek kiss.

We turned the corner on our way out of Nissan and were flagged down by a couple of gendarmes. Very polite. One handed me a contraption and, although I didn’t understand a word that he said, I knew that I was supposed to blow into it. The three of us had shared one bottle of rose over the course of a two and a half hour dinner, so I wasn’t too worried as I emptied my lungs into the little device. Still, it was surprising when the officer showed me a digital readout full of zeroes. He smiled and waved us on. Ain’t technology wonderful?

Our one trip Sunday was to Pezenas, a village that the Brits seem to like as evidenced by the many antique shops. It’s to the northeast of Cazouls, a direction that we haven’t much explored. In the old town, we visited an art exhibit – with some nice watercolors and small sculptures as well as some perfectly dreadful modern trash – and the Musee de Vulloid-Saint-Germain. The musee was interesting with a history of the town including medallions and other architectural oddments saved from buildings gone for hundreds of years, old farm and vinification implements, a fully-equipped 18^th century kitchen with hearth and table settings and such, and a number of rooms decorated in impressive antiques of the 16^th through 18^th centuries. Moliere visited Pezenas a time or two and there are several exhibits paying him homage and documenting Moliere festivals held in the town in the years since.

We had a simple picnic before leaving town and managed to get home early again. Our evenings, when we don't go out for dinner, are simple affairs. I read or write in my journal. Cathey putters. Sharon helps Cathey with her puttering or knits (crochets?). All very peaceful and restful.