More Joly merry and Bright

 

Piano Recital

Last evening, I drove about 20 miles on empty roads through beautiful countryside to a tiny village church to listen to a world class pianist, Louis Lancien, play Brahms,
Chopin and Liszt. All of 16 years old, he has already played in Minsk, Paris, Mexico, Berlin and many places in France.
After the concert the audience were invited back to the organiser's house for drinks where we talked with his parents. Louis is the youngest child of six brothers and sisters. They all play an instrument including the father but excepting the mother! They were proud parents, and this was the last tour for them. Louis is going into the big wide world to make it or not alone. Next on the list are Germany, Paris again, Japan and many other venues.
I am frequently surprised at the generous hospitality, warmth and friendliness and modesty of everyone here. I never fail to be amazed at the choice and variety of music available to me on my doorstep.
And I drove home again on clear roads by the light of the full moon.
I saw an owl. My friend tells me that an owl at night means good weather tomorrow, an owl in the morning take warning.

Monday, July 10, 2006

World Cup

What happened to sport? Am I naive? I still believe that sport/games should be an amateur pastime not professional. Tennis seems to have retained sportsmanship why not football?
It makes me think about ' 1984' are they really fighting a war out there? I suppose it is better than machine gunning or dropping bombs or gassing but aren't we doing that too?
I only watched out of a sense of loyalty to France but now feel ashamed. Italy didn't come out of it in a very good light either did they, nor I hear did the England team.

Tour de France

I wanted to film the cyclists since they were passing so close to my house. As I was walking to the nearest village along the 'route' I called 'bon appetite' to all the groups who had set up tables and chairs by the roadside and in fields to eat lunch. In Brittany you have to 'dejeuner' at 12 noon it's the law. I said hello to people I knew with the usual doubts as to how many kisses, anything from one to six and sometimes just a handshake but always involving touch of some kind. I am convinced that is the reason that Bretons live so long combined with the outdoor life and tradition of growing thier own veg and meat. I was carried along the two mile walk by the festive atmosphere of the crowds lining the route. On reaching the village I bought a' sausisson galette' from one of the many stalls. (I am mostly vegetarian but feel like a traitor if I don't join in the local traditions.) I found a spot by the church wall to steady my camera and waited. I had missed the freebies which are thrown from the cavalcade of vans and cars to keep the crowds happy whilst waiting for the cyclists. Like French trains they arrived spot on time. The crowds cheered like mad for all of five minutes as they sped past at 60 miles an hour then as one, they turned to their cars and went their way. After a cup of coffee in the bar I walked back along a changed route. Just yards beyond the village sign I was alone in the countryside. No cars no people just fields, trees, birds and cows. I have the best of both worlds. Complete solitude and tranquillity or I can choose to join in the frequent low key community events.

Saturday, July 08, 2006

Learning Curve

I seem to have published my last post twice. I'm still not sure of the procedures!!

Thinking about my favourite books led me to thinking about books which have helped me when I was depressed. Anything by Dorothy Rowe is good but especially 'Beyond Fear'. At the moment I am reading 'The Van Gogh Blues' for the second time and doing the exercises which are proving to be successful.
They both stress how important it is for us to have/make meaning in our lives. Hard to do when we are surrounded by war and injustice. We can but strive.

Books and Depression

Thinking about my favourite books led me to thinking about books which have helped me when I was depressed. Anything by Dorothy Rowe is good but especially 'Beyond Fear'. At the moment I am reading 'The Van Gogh Blues' for the second time and doing the exercises which are proving to be successful.
They both stress how important it is for us to have/make meaning in our lives. Hard to do when we are surrounded by war and injustice. We can but strive.

Exercise and Fun

Yesterday I decided that my writing muscle had, had enough exercise for the day but the rest of my muscles needed exercising, so I went for a swim. It is wonderful to be able to swim up and down an almost empty pool in any season and then jump into a hot jacuzzi to relax before driving home on empty roads.
The garden looks very drab and sad this morning after a night of much needed rain.
Sunday promises to be a full day of fun. The Tour de France is due to pass through the next village, 2kms away. They have organised car boot, food stalls and a ball (that's dancing). There is also the annual music festival at Bobital, 20 kms away, not to be missed and of course the cup final which is going to be shown on a big screen in the town's cinema 8kms away.
I'm not really a fan of football but I have to watch the final of a world cup match in which the country where I live are finalists.

Thursday, July 06, 2006

Evening walk

Last evening, we were supposed to have an end of season party with the gym group, the walking group and the Breton dance group. The event was cancelled because of 'the match' and also because of the thunderstorms we'd been having all day. Some of us turned up anyway and as it was warm and sunny and not raining, we decided to walk to a nearby chapel. The two musicians led the little group playing traditional Breton tunes on their traditional bagpipes and clarinets.
When we reached the chapel, we went inside and danced.
On the return we walked towards the sunset and continually had to pause to look at the stunning cloud formations. Large, multicoloured and billowing one minute, the next completely striated across the horizon. I regretted not having my camera because a series of photo's would have been useful to provide an exercise for sky painting.
On my way home I called at a neighbour's to find out the score. Hurrah for France. 1-0

Wednesday, July 05, 2006

After the storm

I didn't sleep in the van after all as an almighty thunderstorm threatened just before bedtime. It thundered and lightened most of the night. I have just inspected the damage to my garden which has been thirsting for water. The rain must have been heavy as my front door fuscias are almost flattened but happily there are two fragile, deep red, poppies standing very straight and tall.
Last week I met a couple at a boules match who proudly showed me their secret garden. It was truly magical with winding paths and water features totally enclosed by shrubs and trees and flowers. There were many nooks under the branches with inviting seats to shelter from the sweltering heat. This morning I saw that my acre looked more like a car park than a garden. I have much planting to do this Autumn to realise my dream out there.

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

beating the heat

Last night I slept in a tent on my lawn. The noises the animals made were amazing. Tonight, I am going to sleep in my van so that I can look out the window and maybe spot what is making these weird noises.

First try

After four new hard drives in 18 months, I was just about to ditch computers writing and everything then I found some bloggers. I am writing this to overcome Writers' Doubt syndrome. If you suffer from it log on to www.wisewordsonwriting.com Donna-Lane Nelson's website. It helped me.

joly merry and bright

 

Club Des Aines

Sometimes we meet to play games, boules, belotes or scrabble. Sometimes we have outings. Sometimes we have a communal meal.
Last week we had a communal meal. The numbers vary from 100-300 but everyone is found a seat and we are waited on. The meals are usually five courses, sometimes more, and each course is accompanied by a drink. First of all we begin with the customary greetings at the door. Having lived here almost three years I mostly know who to kiss once, twice, three or four times and with whom to just to just shake hands. As you can imagine this takes some time especially when some people stay to chat which I always hope they do because it's one of the few opportunities I get to practise my French.
We began with a choice of aperitifs Ricard or whiskey with crispy nibbles and endless plates of sausages on sticks. I was assured that they were pure meat unlike British sausages which are famous for a variety of ingredients of which meat is often last on the list. Next came the starter which was a salmon steak and salad with a glass of white wine. The main course was freshly BBQ'd steak and chips. This was served with red wine of course. Next came the cheese and more red wine. The breadbasket is continually replenished and there is always butter in Brittany. The sweet as usual was apple tart and delicious as was the chilled Champagne which came with it. Coffee followed with the square of chocolate and last but not least a digestive. This was a local speciality made by one of our members. My table companion Clotilde gave me the recipe. You heat red wine and add sugar and plums and Eau de Vie and wait as long as you can. Not long for me as it was absolutely delicious rounded off the meal ideally.
During the meal between courses a microphone is passed around the tables and anyone who feels the urge can sing or tell a joke. The Doyenne of the village Simone who is 96 usually makes people laugh 'til they cry with her songs. She is word perfect. She is straight backed and has a lovely head of grey hair. If only we could all be so healthy at that age.
The meal began at midday and ended after 5 o'clock. The tables were quickly cleared away while the band warmed up and then the dancing began. We do mostly ballroom dancing on these occasions but also line dancing and the occasional Breton Dance. I think it finishes at about 8 o'clock but I am usually too tired to stay to the end unlike most others who are much younger than I.

War Past and Present

I began reading a book about the history of American Indians but found it too painful to finish. I finished reading the book about Michel Thomas whose life was extraordinary. Being a Jew in Poland as a child he knew racial hatred and living in France and Germany during the second world war he suffered indescribable pain. After the war he became a innovative language teacher. He proved over and over again that his method worked but until his recent death was shunned by academic institutions the world over.
Being a pacifist, I have always avoided 'war books' although I well remember the spate of 'we worn the war and enjoyed fighting' films that I saw as a child. I was born at the beginning of the war and the loudest message I picked up was that we the British are goodies, and we are fighting the baddies the Germans. I watched a lot of films in the crap cowboys and Indians genre. Same message. White man good, redskin bad. The Michel Thomas biography informed me very clearly about many aspects of the political manoeuvrings before during and after the war of which I had no idea.
Both books left me depressed and feeling powerless. I can't change the past. But the big problem is that we should be able to change the present. I look around the world and see the same arrogant cruel oppression. Men killing other men women and children. And somehow, we've managed to persuade some women to put on uniforms. That is something else I learned early on. It's OK to murder if you are wearing a uniform as long as you stick to the rules and if
'we' make a 'mistake' (euphemism for killing civilians) all's fair in love and war. What it really means is: Those with the biggest far reaching deadliest weapons of mass destruction can use the worlds resources. You (the other) can have just enough to keep you working to ensure that we benefit from your country's natural resources. If we can invent machines to take you place watch out 'cos, then we won't need you at all.
I spent 20 years fighting a personal battle. I spent 20 years anti-war campaigning in the wider sense. Now every day in my little paradise I hear jets fly over and wonder why, why, why, does it have to be like this? And how did so many people get conned into believing it's a religious battle? and will it ever stop? and is there anything I can do about it?

I should mention that many of my neighbours are farmers. Some go

od some bad and some I wouldn't describe as farmers at all really just manufacturers of meat. Being a political vegetarian here is difficult. I am surrounded by avid meat eaters. I have no objection to eating lamb, pork, chicken and turkey if it is produced in a humane manner but not only is factory farming cruel to animals it is also cruel to humans. When I see these items on the menu in restaurants the memory of the young women, I have met with deformed hands who have worked in the meat preparation factories. Also, the young mothers I sat next in French class who couldn't stay awake because they had been working since 4 AM packing same meat.
I choose not to eat beef until the third world is allowed to grow crops which they can eat instead of growing crops to feed our beef. Coffee and tea are also a problem. I wonder how many Brazilians, Indians and Africans own plantations? And don't even mention gold. Who works in the gold mines for peanuts and who wears the gold?

Environmentally Friendly

Most of my neighbours are practically self-sufficient. They grow their own veg, salad and fruit. they keep hens for eggs and to eat. They fish in their own ponds and rivers and eat the fish. They bottle, freeze and preserve like there's going to be a seven-year famine. When I say that I have been gardening they ask me what I have plant or picked and look puzzled when my answer is flowers, shrubs and trees. No matter what the weather scorching sun, freezing frost, biting wind, every day I see old people bent double hoeing, weeding and picking. It's their way of life and they just get on with it.
There is no public transport here so many people have to walk to their local destinations. Some have those tiny cars which only go 40 miles an hour; I don't know what they are called.
I inherited two very old apple trees and the first autumn they produced so many apples that the branches broke with the weight and there lay a carpet of apples beneath the two trees. This bumper harvest taught me the meaning of the word abundance and gave me the title of a painting. They are cider apples, so not edible. Oh yes and my neighbours make their own cider too. Also, a much more potent potion called Eau de Vie/ water of life which is considered to be a digestive and is consumed at the very end of all the communal meals.
When I first arrived, I decided that I would have to choose between produce gardening and painting and writing. I chose to paint and write seriously and to dabble in the garden. Last year a neighbour gave me some strawberry runners which I planted and tenderly cared for. They produced a bountiful crop which the birds promptly ate before I had even tasted one. Last year also I planted just two courgettes in my compost heap. I couldn't eat all they produced but discovered if left the courgettes grew into whopping great marrows. I'm no chef but when something has grown in your own garden you just have to cook it. This year I have been given in total at least a dozen tomato plants by three different people. Two of them have a bumper crop already (plants not people) but are still green. Will I get to eat them before some other resident in my garden beats me to it? There are huge wild brambles growing along the top hedge which produce enormous juicy berries. I ate the last of the ones I froze last year yesterday.
However, I don't really need to grow anything. Monique provides me with enough leeks to freeze. Ron keeps me in runner beans. Sue brings cucumbers. Yannick gives me tomatoes. (I may have my own this year). Yesterday Janice brought a basket which looked as though she had stolen it from a Monet painting, just brimming over with lettuce, spinach, beetroot, courgettes and cucumbers. I shall have to do a lot of blackberry picking to return their generosity.

The industrial revolution by passed Brittany and the peasants were not moved from the land at gun point to work in factories as in other parts. Unfortunately, outside capitalism is beckoning to the young who are no longer satisfied with peasant life, and they are leaving to chase who knows
what? But fortunately, an unexpected trend is taking place. The old properties which have been left standing or more often falling (mine was empty for ten years) are being bought and renovated. This is stimulating trade and providing work for local people with traditional skills.
Perhaps some of the young will return to learn the valuable metiers of their fathers' and grandfather's before it's too late for them to be passed on.
Two basic fundamentals we all need and will always need are food and shelter.

What's in a name?

Quite a lot, I think. I have been playing about with names partly because I was wondering if male authors are published more often than female authors and also because I am trying to choose names for the characters in my book. I can't keep on calling them he/him and she/her. Or maybe I'm just having another identity crisis. I usually move the furniture around it's not so drastic.

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Blogs Work

Thank you, D-L Nelson, for putting me onto blogs. I have no time to blog now as I am up at six most mornings writing and editing. It's as though a log jam has been released.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Breton Culture

I am always surprised and delighted whenever I attended a local gathering. We had the event which was postponed last week because of the weather and football last night. We met by the church in the village and some of us walked and some of us drove the two miles to Helen's house.
The tables and chairs were waiting for us in the garden but only Pierre sat down. He immediately took out his melodion and started to play. The rest of us joined little fingers to dance the first An Dro.
It is always the first dance. Every Fest Noz (evening folk event) and Fest Diez (day-time folk event) begins with an AnDro. It is the easiest of all the Breton dances but deceptively simple as are all Breton dances. I have watched many people, as I did when I first arrived, join in the circle thinking, this is easy, and becoming more and more puzzled as they found themselves out of step.
To the uninitiated it looks as though the circle is just shuffling around clockwise but one soon discovers that the tiny steps are quite complex. Of course, there are dances which are very dramatic, like the one where the men leap up in the air and kick their legs out sideways to shoulder height defying gravity, but these are now only performed at the festivals by the well-rehearsed teams who perform in the traditional costumes. But the majority of the dances are subtly and gently complex like the polite affectionate characters of the Breton people.

We finish the dancing with our party piece which is very fast and involves much jumping and fancy footwork and requires lots of energy. We sit down at last, breathless, to the greatly appreciated drinks of cider (home-made of course). We eat crêpes, also homemade, with a variety of fillings. It is also someone's birthday so next comes the champagne and we give a birthday toast (it's always someone's birthday)

As it is the last meeting of the season, we have presentations for the musicians. To my surprise I am asked to choose a length of ribbon from three. I thought it was a game but am delighted to find that as I chose red, I am presented with a large potted plant with red flowers. I only play my clarinet occasionally and even then, just one or two tunes. I am astonished. 'It's for encouragement', says Sylvie making the presentation. I am very moved and encouraged.
I love the ambience of these gatherings just twenty or so people dancing, playing and singing together. You have to experience dancing and singing in a circle to know it's power.

Joly merry and bright on blogger since 2006

 

About Me

Name: Victoria Wild

Location: Brittany, France

I am retired and I live in France with my cat. My daily priorities are writing, painting and gardening. This blog is supposed to keep me on task! Wild Women don't get the Blues, so I intend to use this blog to sound off so that I do not repress my anger. I can get wildly enthusiastic about life too!

Love/hate/computers

I finally had to change to the new format which I resisted 'til today. I have to use google why?
I sent a story/first chapter of my novel to an 'Authors' Advisory service. I received no advice but a complete hatchet job. The story is called 'The Crimplene Dress' and the 'reader' seemed to react violently to the word crimplene and wrote a paragraph of ferocious invective about crimplene nothing about the suitability of the title to the story. Well, I didn't slit my throat and I shall continue to write even though reading between the lines of my so-called advice I should never do again.
I have fallen behind somewhat in the plant a tree a day front. I hope to catch up by planting two a day.
I really must risk connecting to the net at home as I find it too difficult timewise to use internet cafés etc.

I have been writing so much lately, short stories and poems and my novel that I rarely have time to write this blog which proves it works!! Reading at the moment also stimulating 'Orlando' by Virginia Woolf very inspiring. I saw a performance of this some years ago and I didn't understand a word of it; so, I never wanted to read the book. I found the book amazing. I am surprised that anyone would want to perform something which works so well in words and is mostly experiencing someone's internal thoughts. I found an old copy of Charles Dickens ' Le Grillon du Foyer' in French. It must be one of his early books. I have never heard of it before.

computer success

At last I have found out how to write longer email messages without the page expiring. I had learned how to do it before on my laptop but didn't realise how to do it in the internet café.
I have written a short story and dug out two that I had written years ago. I typed them up and now I am going to send them of to competion. Wish me luck. I normally say nothing when I send stuff away, but it seems not to influence my success or failure

Monday, January 29, 2007

Wild about life again at last

I feel as though I have recovered finally from all the bereavements, I suffered in the first year after moving here. I know we never stop grieving but we can continue to live happily whilst never forgetting those we have lost. And the pain never completely goes away.
I am wild about writing and gardening just now. I have started a writing group which had its first meeting last Friday and gave me a real boost. I haven't stopped writing since.
Also, a writer friend in England has been really supportive. We ring frequently for mutual support. Thirdly I have had another letter printed in Writers' Forum. Yeh! I know it's not much, but it keeps me buoyant.
In the garden I have constructed a raised garden. I made the sides from woven hazel branches cut from my own tree. I never knew that gardening could be so much pleasure. The daffodils are beginning to show, and a friend here has two in flower. My mimosa tree has survived the frost so far but shows no sign of flowering as yet as all the other mimosa trees I have seen.

Reading Matter

I have recently bought a book which was recommended on someone else's blog. The 'Confessions of an Economic Hit Man'. It is really terrifying. I know these terrible things go on but when one reads it in print written by someone with first-hand experience it brings the message home. But what to do about it. He begins by working in Indonesia. an area of the world we hear little about. In the Eighties I campaigned for the Islands southeast of their in the Pacific. I gave talks for an organisation called women Working for a Nuclear Free and Independent Pacific. I am not sure how effective we were. I have no idea what is happening their today.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

blanks

Why when I am nowhere near the computer do I have brilliant ideas which disappear the second I sit down at the keyboard? I have I think/ hope finished the first chapter of my novel. However, I then pick up a couple of books that I am reading which make my writing seem so bland and lifeless. When I try to insert some colour or action it to me artificially. C'est la vie. Must keep trying. Must make meaning for myself.

Reasons for blogging and the title

 When I was doing a course at Stockport College on Creative Therapy I found an article by Ruth L. Waterhouse entitled "Wild Women Don't Have the Blues".  This is taken from the last line of a song by the jazz singer Ida Cox (1889-1968).

That is why I called this blog Wild Wise Women. 

 The Pope's Apologies

1) The Crusades

2) The Inquisition

3) The persecution of the Jewish people

4) Injustice towards women

5) The forced conversion of indigenous people especially in South America

6)  The African slave trade 

7) Galileo was right about the sun and the earth

8) To violence and torture- torture was legalised

9) Silence during Hitler's final solution

10) The burning alive of the Czech Protestant Yunho's

11) The sack of Constantinople and the massacre of Byzantine Christianity

12) The Anathema of all Orthodox Christians as unbelievers and heretics and people living outside of the hearth of the church.

13) The murder and forced conversion of Serbian Orthodox Christians in thr Balkans during the WW2

Regret for the rape and torture of orphans and other children in church run schools in almost every country on Earth from Ireland to Australia.

Limbo is undergoing consideration.

Open Door

The Door

I am going to be late. I wanted to go to the Travel Agent's too. Shall I ring to apologise? Oh, there's a phone box. This door is heavy. I push harder and as it opens, I nearly fall in. Gosh it's dark in here. 

"Who are you?" says a voice from the shadows. 

Victoria Richards. I am in a terrible rush. I am very late. I want to make a phone call. I was going book a holiday and I have an appointment for a blood test. So where am I? Are you a doctor--

"Yes, I am The Doctor."

Yes, but doctor who.

"That is correct. I am Doctor Who."

Don't joke. I am not well, and I need help. 

"Of course, I can help you. Would you like interplanetary travel or perhaps you would like to travel back in time. You do not need to use a phone. I can arrange everything for you."

Travel? What are you talking about? Is this the travel agents? I thought it was a phone box.

I walk forward in the darkness towards a light and what appears to be, -- no it can't be. It looks like the control panel of a space ship so many flashing lights and screens, rows of screens. 

I hear the doctor's voice again, "You are my dear on the Star Ship Enterprise."

"Oh, that's OK then." I say to myself. Where else would I be on a Monday morning on the way to the doctors.

I must have said the last bit out loud because the Doctor speaks again.

"That's correct my dear. The Doctor is here. Now how can we help you? I think you mentioned a blood test."

What? No. Let me get out of here. I want to open the door.

The door opens automatically.  I run out into blinding sunlight and bump into a passer-by.

"Sorry, sorry, so sorry."

"No harm done. Now look where you are going in the future."

  

 

Just tear it up

 Dear Mslexia, 

                 My copy arrived.  I tore it out of the envelope then continued tearing until every single page was separated. Now I can read it in comfort taking care to keep the pages in numbered order. You see, otherwise, my 80-year-old arthritic fingers are unable to hold the magazine open far enough to be able to read to the end of each line.  

I know it seems and feels like sacrilege but what is the alternative? I suppose I could cancel my subscription and don't think I haven't thought about it. 

So, as long as I feel that enough of the content is inspiring, enjoyable and useful I shall continue to tear it apart. The pages not the content.

Yours an old-time scribbler,

Keep safe,

Jean Wild