wherefigsfly

Just a little preview of a couple of pieces that are almost finished. 

May I introduce Louis.   He’s waiting for a little gold brushing lest we forget he’s a bit royal.   Great guy…as long as you call him loo-ee!   He gets a tad upset if you call him loo-is.

And this china cabinet is flaunting her almost done-ness while flanked by LOTS of TO-DOs.

Good weekend to you,

june

I recently googled tips for moving someone to assisted living.  One line in the myriad of advice jumped out at me… do not go out and buy a new sofa. 

I laughed, nervously.  The advice was too late and lost on me, for I had indeed just bought this sofa for my Mom’s room.

Frankie has been the epitome of godsend ever since I met her.  First it was furniture, but friendship followed quickly.  

Frankie is one of those friends that you call on.  Her offers become actions.  While Mom was out of the house for an hour, she moved furniture at the speed of a thief.  She hung curtains.  She made Mom’s bed.  She shopped.   She helped me blend a little new beauty with the familiar in my mom’s new home.  She caught my tears and made me laugh.  And then the over-blessing…she thought this sofa was perfect.   

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.  -Emerson

Shine on (and don’t take all good advice to heart),

j

This past week, my brother and I have experienced the hardest of days.  We moved my mom to an assisted living facility.

During the flurry of paperwork and doctor’s visits and planning,  I texted my brother that all was going smoothly.  And my brother texted me back

life can be a m.f.   but we are blessed

Pardon his French, but he nailed it.  

This song is for you, dear brother.   I am not joking when I call you the pick of the litter.

Raising my glass,

june

As of rainy late…

the apple trees are laden at The Fig.

The pear trees, too.

And the grass, lofty, I tell ya.  

Yesterday, my dear man, mowed this tall, tall grass for me.   It was not exactly a piece of mowing cake to wield a big tractor with a rotary mower behind it around heavy laden fruit trees. He was, in his words, pummeled by apples and pears.  Absolutely pummeled.   But on the bright side, there were opportunities for Sir Isaac Newton moments.

Sir Isaac must have had a brush with the madness of people…I mean, who but a madman or madwoman could have made his hair curl like that?  As my dear one one was having just another day married to me, I’m sure he was thinking more about heavenly bodies  than madness, aren’t you?  Hmmm.

With thanks to the guy with the straight, straight hair,

june

My farming daddy used to say

Too little rain will hurt you…too much rain will kill you

Relentless rain takes its toll. 

   View from The Fig barn

If it has not been raining, approaching ominous clouds have been on the horizon.  

Sitting in the barn yesterday,with the rain pouring, I surrendered. 

The barn has a leak.  The dahlias in the rose garden have succumbed.  And I have no idea what is next for my Mom.   Sometimes, it feels like loving will kill you.   Relentless pain takes its toll, too.

I think of my daddy, who lived through droughts and downpours – without despair.   He always had a way of accepting what came.   Sage and sweet surrender. 

I do not know what things will look like when the waters recede and the sun returns and burns off the oppressive gray.  I just know I can’t fight the white waters much longer.  They will take me where they will take me.  I surrender. 

Many waters cannot quench love; rivers cannot wash it away.  Song of Songs 8:7

See you on the rapids,

june

On a stroll down Rue des Saints-Pères in Paris, I could not believe my stellar fortune.  As if the architecture and chocolate were not enough, there were storefronts with furniture in the windows.  Yes, one can window shop for sofas and tables and chandeliers on this rue.

These sofas are beautiful and so Paree!  And I could not help but think they would work well with my new favorite at The Fig.

My new favorite

Which got me to thinkin’ about this World War I song title that my history-major friend quotes often,

     Which got me to thinkin’ that my new favorite calls for a new song.  The title

How Ya Gonna Keep ‘Em in Paree?

(After They’ve Seen What’s on the Farm)

With rue that my suitcase was not sofa-size,

june

At the risk of seeming unfaithful, I have a new favorite. 

Without further ado…

Click on picture for more photos

Forget the further ado, I think a drumroll is in order!

june

We’re home.  And France  surpassed all of my expectations. 

This is where we started.  Why, oh why, do we not have a boulangerie on every corner?  (That is not a rhetorical question!) 

And as a family of Merlin fans, this is where we ended. 

Truly, France provided  Camelot everywhere we went. 

The beauty was intoxicating and I was happy-drunk on it.  The natural beauty of the Normandy area overwhelmed me.  And the cultivated beauty on top of that.  I’m telling you, it was hard to stand.

The beauty was sobering as well.   Douvres-la-Delivrande, the town where we stayed, was occupied during World War II.  Bullet holes in the stone wall surrounding our property reminded us. 

We were also reminded at the town’s World War II cemetery where my family quietly scattered.   Beautiful flowers were on every grave – German and Allied. My 18-year-old son came up to me, and through emotion said, Mom, they were my age. When I bumped into my cousin, we could only talk in tears.  We were walking on sacrifice.  We knew it and felt it.

Later my cousin and I knelt by the graves.    She observed that there was not a single spent bloom.  We were seeing the result of hands that work with care and diligence.  Holy.  Holy.  Holy.

My perception, the Normans remember and live in the moment.  Sober and high on beauty. 

This note from Frankie awaited us late Monday evening.

We had a bit of a rocky re-entry…some fleas in the house…lost luggage…a visit to the ER.  But today things are resolving – a little vacuuming took care of the fleas, our lost bag (with sand from Colleville-sur-Mer) was delivered to our front door, and a plane travel-related blood clot has been ruled out.  

Life is dang full of challenges.  And life is chock-full of beauty.   And if you want un peu Camelot, the hard, heavy things can lead you to mindfulness and care and beauty of a magical sort. 

Like you, I can’t wait to see the magical things that have been happening at the barn!

Promise to share,

june

Bonjour.

We arrived in the small town of Douvres-la-Delivrande yesterday afternoon in Lower Normandy.  It is cool, lush, enchanting, and for the history buffs (as well as the non-history buffs like me) in our family , we feel as though we are walking on hallowed ground.

La Haule, the house we are renting for the week

The view out the kitchen door.

Our kitchen table. 

And these pictures, they are for you, Frankie. I know you’ll appreciate the joinery of the kitchen table.

Thus far, we are both excited and humbled.  We are not frequent or savvy travellers so this journey is avec reconnaissance. 

Au revoir,

june

Next week this time, I will not have paint in my hair. 

I hope to sit in one of these chairs in the Jardin du Luxembourg.

And enjoy steak frites here.

And get lost in the Egyptian Antiquities and Decorative Arts sections of the Louvre.

My family is going on a very-big-deal-for-us trip.  We’ll be in Paris for a few days before spending a week in Normandy. 

And while I’m gone, Frankie will be carrying on and completing some big-deal-for-us pieces at The Fig.

avoir une bonne journée,

(translation:  have a good day)

Every day’s a  journey, oui?

june