For a couple of months now I have been very VERY sensible about eating and consuming DRINK...all blown in one day of festivities.
Carnaval started with lavish meat fest as film reveals. 8.00 in the morning. Chorizo, slabs of bacon, sausages oozing in yummy grease, white bread, bits of preserved duck fat, and as much hearty red wine that you could shake a 'carabène' at.
Mark went slightly pale and headed off home to eat some hippy food, I waded in and tested the fare.
After a few blanquettes and chardonnays on the tour of the cafés it was time for a very late lunch. I did avoid the fois gras, not for any particular reasons of animal ethics...(which were by that time rather shredded) but because I remember last year feeling somewhat...close to death by the time we had to hit the square again. Gambas, followed by magret de canard, which was delicious. Not a vegetable in sight except for a wilting leaf next to the gambas. Tiramasu. Hot chocolate as I have given up coffee..ugh.
Oh let me sleep, but no, we all created massive group indigestion by dancing around to carnival tunes, and then it was time to go out again.
More chardonnay, pastis, etc, although I did pad it all out with evil WATER. It rusts you people said, but I really didn't want to visit memories of lying in bed, groaning and watching the Waltons as I was unable to change channels (days before remotes you understand, would never get quite so horribly rat-arsed these days).....usually.
After tour, back in café, lots more jiggling, getting quite entertaining now with people standing on chairs singing about having no trousers on and then adding visuals.
Fancied a small fruit salad, or a perhaps even a whole sun dried tomato canapé (not a sofa), but instead there was a vast array of fois gras on toast, duck bits, white bread rolls, sausage rolls, brie, chorizo and jambon du pays. Decided to start blanquette diet on the spot, and joined in with more carnival jiggling, YMCA and even Plastic Bertrand?!
Only one member of our group pushed the satin covered boat out a little too far. Although quite slight in frame, and having drunk several months worth of Ricard over the day He still did manage to perform, with the odd lurch into the crowd, then back at the cafe he became strangely fixated with asking me what the translation of "oo, aa, will you be my girl" was in French.
Off out again for the 10.00 p.m tour, pushing our stomachs before us, more wine, pastis, etc etc,
then back to burn the carnival effigy. Was rather relieved to find we were not going to eat onion soup at 1.30 in the morning, which I have done with another band before.
Today, have gained seemingly 2 kilos.
Back to the pumkin seeds, veg etc, but will enjoy that culinary departure again next year.
Sunday, 20 February 2011
Friday, 18 February 2011
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Well which is it?
Seems there is a choice of dates regarding the fin du monde. Or maybe we are in for two...the first one not quite end enough, lets leave it 9 days and have another go?
Either way its going to be interesting up there, probably not for the inhabitants, unless one were to sell/rent ones abode out for a huge sum and bugger off to another safe zone...I think there are others? but then presumably they will be about to suffer the same onslaught of hype, and everything that goes along with it.
Think I might start a secondary thread to the story.
There is without doubt another space ship under our shed. I've heard odd clankings in there, someone has been at the jam stocks, and I'm sure once or twice I have seen rats carrying large pieces of sheet steel towards the noble structure after dark. It would explain why Mark can never find any tools, nothing to do with me...
rats are far more likely to inherit the world, or at least its smoking remains, than lizards, or is it that giant lizards are going to arrive from space? Will have to question the small brown ones in the garden. I looked at some yesterday basking in the early spring sun (them, not me) they didn't seem to be any different, no sitting in deck chairs with smug expressions or looking at immobilier magazines from galaxies beyond...
Just looked up some Mayan info, there is another date..the 23rd Dec 2012 which is heralded as IT, so er generally December is going to be less heavy on the Christmas madness, a bit more on the DIY side perhaps. Bunkers and the like, Bricolage should do well.
Perhaps its all true.
Where does God fit into all of this?
Why are we so obsessed with this seasons fashion colour in bed linen in our society?
What happened to folk music?
Something is seriously wrong with the world, that is obvious. But trying to fix it, rather than running away in a lizard suit is probably more useful. So...off the computer, head for the potager, if the rats haven't taken my spade.
I did see a film at the cinema, when I was about eleven, which incidentally was supporting 'cage aux folles' odd choice...about the The Nazca lines in Peru. The immense patterns drawn on the earth that can really only be appreciated as forms of animals etc from the air. If I was really going to wait for a passing space vessel, somewhere there would be my choice of bus stop, not rural France...we shall see...
Friday, 11 February 2011
And happy us. What a great few days, very aware of the lack of water around however. Could do with a wet spring.
I did look in my diary for this time last year and we did have a similar episode of sun filled days...before a massive dump of snow squashed the over-optimistic almond blossom and nest builders. Maybe not this year, hope not, the woodpile is rapidly reaching the sawdust and beetles level.
Today preparation of CARNAVAL, check out the Limoux square next Saturday at 10.30 to see Mark dressed in a way he might have been about 30 years ago.....
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
Just back from uk where weather was like here today, perhaps slightly more vile, only just...
Cannot find USB cable to load up recently taken snaps so here is one of Mark's favourite places..hahaha...
On a Tuesday and Wednesday he loads up his ancient tan leather greek bag with music and heads to the MJC batiment in afore-mentioned town.
I like this building. It should really be on the outskirts of some mouldering Russian industrial town, an occasional venue for a vodka laced dance event... echoing concrete and David Lynch film set corridors. The 'caretaker' (odd word to use when describing the gentleman in question) has asked Mark many times not to stick posters on the wall of the 'music room', small dingy room with Dickension desks and matching dust, presumably as this could leave small grease marks on the ancient, grimy, cracked paintwork. He has also requested that the windows always remain closed so the piano cannot be heard especially between 12.00 and 2.00 p.m when he has his siesta.....!**?!**