Nico et Cecile

Some days you just never know what you'll encounter in the aisles of the Intermarche. And then, days later, you're still scratching your head. Doug finished up at BricoMarche next door and then waited in the parking lot for me to finish.

Suddenly a 20-something wave of young men in white T-shirts rushed through the door, cheering, jeering and prodding what appeared to be a rather large bunny rabbit. They swooped up and down the aisles en masse, picking up and rejecting various items.

Their T-shirts, had they been black, or had these young fellows been wearing stocking caps over their heads, might have presented them as threatening. Instead, everyone in the store played along. They were members of "Team Nanar", and the big event for Nico et Cecile is upcoming on 16/08/08 (next Samedi).

Monsieur Bunny finally selected two cans of 1664 beer, and Team Nanar headed for the queue. M. Bunny now had to bissou everyone in line. Exiting Intermarche, M. Bunny took serious pummerling from his friends and in frustration, shook the 1664 beer and sprayed his team mates. Doug, roving NorthofAndorra reporter, witnessed this part of the action, and heard M. Bunny being rebuked for his "faux pas". He was then punished by having to do 15 pushups.

Team Nanar loaded up M. Bunny into his "chaud lapin" (hot rabbit) cage on a trailer and hauled him off, in search of the next venue. Stag party, fraternity hazing, interesting marketing strategy for 1664 beer??? But we'll be on the lookout for Nico et Cecile next Saturday....somewhere, doing something.

Beauty Shop Blues

I thought I could wait until we got back to Moab before I would need another haircut, but I was wrong. So I headed around the corner to Coiffure Mixte to see if Carole could set me up with a rendez-vous on Friday. She suggested "a seize heure trente", which immediately demanded some calculation on my part. I always hated the 24-hour clock when working in Yellowstone, but it has its function there as it does in France for business and transportation timetables. As far as I could tell, I didn't need to take any trains. But we confirmed that I would return at 4:30 pm.


Since there weren't endless possibilities one could do with already short hair, Carole started asking questions that I interpreted as..."do you want a shampoo?", "which way do you comb your hair?", "do you only want a cut?", "how much do you want taken off?". Or, at least those were the questions that I was answering. I think I told her I wanted it real short, except leave some length on the neck. She started snipping at a lightning pace, but somehow we always seemed to agree on what was happening. When she was done, she handed me a mirror to check the back. I wanted a little more taken off, and started to tell her when she interjected something that sounded like "on poo PLOOSE?" It took me awhile, but I realized it's that southern twang. It's enough to undo everything (no matter how minute) I've already learned.

When I was leaving Coiffure Mixte, Carole offered me a Carte de Fidelite which entitles me to a free cut after 10 more. I didn't have the heart to tell her it just might not happen. But I did promise Doug that I would arrange a rendez-vous for him on Samedi if possible for a haircut. In French, the word for husband is mari and the word for Mayor is maire. I couldn't remember that subtle distinction of pronunciation, so it would be entirely possible that I could make a rendez-vous for Henri (our communist Mayor) instead. Heading into this sentence I understood my dilemma, so I chose instead the word for spouse (le epoux), except I may have stated it in the feminine gender (la epouse). I say this because later in the conversation Carole wanted to confirm whether the appointment for my spouse was for a fil or garcon.

Not only coiffure mixte, but mot mixte. Oh well, at least I've got my Carte de Fidelite!

The Village of Leran

Today I bought a print of an aerial photo of the village of Leran. This is a photo of the photo so don't expect it to enlarge very well. Our house is located near the far right edge of the main cluster of buildings, inside of the old almost non-exsistant city walls. You can see the chateau in the upper right corner of the photo.

Blanquette de Limoux

Just under an hour away is the town of Limoux. As you pass over the small range of mountains between Chalabre and Limoux, you begin to notice the first vineyards and signs for blanquette. The sparkling white wine has an amazing story. It is historically accurate to say it was the world's first sparkling wine, developed around 1531 in the Languedoc. What is not supported by history, but is local legend, is that Dom Perignon, the supposed inventor of champagne visited the Languedoc and took home to the Champagne region the idea of sparkling wine. Apparently he turned out to be the better promoter of his product.

Today, Champagne is known worldwide as the beverage to toast glorious events such as weddings and great victories, launching of ships and special birthdays. And ironically, Blanquette de Limoux is unknown. In an earlier day, however, the famous francophile, President and signer of the Declaration of Independence, Thomas Jefferson, was a passionate devotee of Blanquette. It was the only sparkling wine he kept at Monticello, and 10% of his vast cellar reserves were Blanquette de Limoux at the time of his death. When we were in Phoenix, Arizona, we tried to buy some at one of the largest liquor outlets in the state. They hadn't heard of it and didn't carry it.

But it's not unknown here in Languedoc and Midi-Pyrenees, we've been having it all the time, most recently, last evening at a wedding reception for friends. It's light, refreshing, and you can drink a lot of it. We even served it last year at our brunch of French Toast (appetizingly called "Eggy Bread" in the UK) at 10:00 in the morning.

I don't know if blanquette has made it's way to the UK, but I would bet that it has. Comments please. Can you get blanquette where you live? Have you ever heard of it?

Meanwhile, Back Home in Moab

I read on the internet this morning that Wall Arch in Arches National Park has collapsed. There are still many arches there. It remains the greatest concentration of natural arches in the world. Please go to the Salt Lake Tribune or the Park Service website for more information.

www.nps.gov/arch/parknews/news080808.htm

http://www.sltrib.com/news/ci_10142089?source=rss

The Three Stooges

From the Left: Roy, Thor, Fergus. Our former neighbor Louise and David have gone off for awhile and we are taking their dogs again. They've been banished to le petit cour for a brief spell so that we can sweep vast quantites of hair in preparation of collecting future quantities. As if one dog wasn't enough, we now have trois chien pour un semain, which while it technically is only seven days......seems like seventy.....when you don't have a yard. Being a trois chien wrangler is tough stuff, leashes criss-crossing; dogs jockeying for position; some one always sniffing while someone else wants to run. Then we reach the sacred point past the Chateau where we can safely let them off the leashes and everything is up for grabs. Ladies, hold your skirts down; gentlemen, hold on to your hats. Fergus struggles to herd Roy and Thor, but they refuse to cooperate. They resemble a pack of wild critters, looking for prey, but settling for cow poop, grasses and an occasional kitty. Then they come back to the hair depository, settle in for some napping until we resume activities. OK, Fergus, so having brothers is great fun, but you never clean up after yourselves.