Take me back where I belong�
11:47 a.m.
But first I headed over to Provigo to pick up some little treat, not being able to arrive emptyhanded. Actually, I needed to buy groceries anyway, and while doing my up-one-aisle-down-the-other hustle I met Patsy and Dorothy, who hasn�t been back to writing group and won�t likely come until the weather is nicer. I gave her a hug, and she�s become so frail, the proverbial skin and bones. I hate watching my friends age and fall apart. Oh, that reminds me of something Hubby said during the concert Friday night � propos the music Jimmy had just played, �Old composers never retire, they just die.� I had to stifle my giggles while he launched into the next number.
But, to get back to my story here, I arrived at Vlad�s, gave her the orange-flavoured Pims I�d bought, got a tour of the house (very nice, actually) and then she made tea and we sat in the living room by the fireplace and had a very civilized conversation. Vlad is not her real name, but a moniker bestowed upon her by Flor, whom I also call the Duchess. You see, Vlad is a pianist, Flor is an organist, and when I became part of the group, they christened (what a horrible word!) me Jussi. You�re smart people, figure it out yourselves!
I left there at about 5:30 and returned home to make supper for an augmented group (daughter�s BF was visiting), and then went back to work copying Hubby�s score before driving BF to his friend�s. Supper was my famous tofu stirfry (famous in this house at any rate) whereby I marinate the tofu (diced) in soya sauce, garlic and onion powders for half-an-hour or so, then add it to the wok after my vegetables (in this case onion, garlic, cauliflower, broccoli and carrot) are tender, heat the whole thing through and serve on brown rice. It�s cheap, it�s nourishing, and it keeps the bed warm at night.
I also had a chat on MSN with tcklyrpharsn who had been to the Chagall museum in Nice and simply fallen in love with his work. I remember doing that. There is an actual synagogue-like sanctuary in the museum decorated with stained-glass which blew me away, and the paintings are amazing. Now I want to go back! They also had a picnic lunch in the Eucalyptus grove outside the monastery which I remember Hubby dragged us to, insisting we had to see the gardens which were quite lovely (although a little wilted in the intense August heat). He has a real fondness for that place because Alexandre Lagoya held his guitar masterclasses there, which Hubby attended twice in his wild and younger years. Tckly�s journey is bringing back all these memories, and now I want to relive them.
The beach in her entry, which is pebbled and not sandy, is where the mostly-naked bathers bask in the nice weather. We were there en famille, Hubby getting whiplash from trying to watch all the gorgeous topless girls and the kids complaining about the rocks underfoot. Son is now sorry he doesn�t remember the bevy of bare-breasted beauties (at almost 15, this is what occupies most of his waking hours). Tckly said it was too cold for swimming, so poor Mark�s neck is saved.
This afternoon there is a vernissage at Up1ands, a photographer, so I will go for an hour or so, have some wine and cheese and schmooze with like-minded townies. Never a dull moment in the Townships!
<~~~ * ~~~>
