Aglow

Friday, 30 August

A few minutes ago I woke up and didn’t know where I was. Or more precisely, I thought I was still in the Perche and stretched my arm right to check the time (thus hitting my husband) instead of left, the direction of my Paris night table and clock.

Five weeks of summer can make you lose your bearings, turn you into a hay head.

Fortunately looking back at the photos has set me straight, reminded me of the thread.

The Olympics were watched by this agoraphobe anyway from...

…but with much delight. There were sweeping views of the beautiful city and close-up shots of all those super-human athletes. I was happy to see my doom and gloom predictions proved wrong; the joy the Games inspired could even be felt over the tv waves. I laughed out loud when I read in Le Parisien: "Since the 26 July, a fascinating phenomenon has occurred in the streets of Paris. The smiles of the visitors have provoked...smiles in return." The article goes on to say how normally cantankerous Parisiens have suddenly become city-proud, not just smiling but also engaging in conversation, offering advice to enquiring tourists. I don't put much hope in it lasting beyond the Paralympics, which started on Wednesday, but hey, why be negative when the vibe is good.

The weather in the Perche was perfect, a word you don't hear me use often, particularly in a meteorological context. Tasha and I had one glorious morning walk after another, the cool, windless air aglow in sublime light.

Even when the sun wasn't shining...

And at just the right moment, rain would roll in for an afternoon.

My novel that came out on July 16th made its appearance in the Perche for a combination book-summer party that we hosted for friends. (Besides being available at The Red Wheelbarrow in Paris*, there are also copies for sale at Du côté de Bellême). Reactions by readers so far have been encouraging.

Family and friends came to stay...

Otherwise the garden was the main focus of attention this summer.

My newly-built, belatedly-planted veg patch (more on that another day) has not been as bountiful as it looks, but the nano harvest is nevertheless gratifying.

What was planted in the main garden almost two years ago has settled in, begun to feel organic.

But la rentrée is now upon us. The days are noticeably shorter, and there's often a sharp hint of autumn in the air.

The bigger picture in France creeps back into view as the summer truce in the political wars that followed snap legislative elections in July comes to an end. President Emmanuel Macron is looking for a new prime minister like a spoiled, finicky child poking at his vegetables. My prediction is his oversized ego will lead him to choose the smallest potato on the plate, but let's hope I'm proved wrong on that front too.

It's now Saturday morning (and I did not hit my husband upon waking!). Running in the Tuileries, I caught my first glimpse en vrai of the Olympic flame, glowing like a dream of summer on the grey horizon.

Wishing you all a luminous rentrée.

*I will be doing a reading/signing at The Red Wheelbarrow on Thursday 26 September, 7pm (not the 19th as previously announced). Venez nombreux, Parisiennes et Parisiens !!!