Life is a basket of cherries

I've been in Monflanquin exactly a week now.  Days go by quickly here. People come over for coffee and a catch up.  I  keep the house  tidy as anyone could drop by at any moment. I prepare most of my meals, walk around the lake, watch a little French TV, read my book,  and admire the view from the terrace.

A couple of days ago, I picked cherries at my friend Mado's property. The woman  must think I am the Queen of Oregon. She cannot do enough for me. The Queen of Oregon receives brown eggs, an abundance of tree ripened cherries,  beautiful pink flowers,  5 kinds of homemade jam, and multiple invitations to dinner. No way to convince her of my ordinary citizenship. Believe me, I have tried. Mado is in her seventies and lives alone in her childhood home right outside Monflanquin. Caring for the land keeps her incredibly busy, but to this she adds, tai chi, and Internet classes.  Mado checks on the sick and the elderly regularly. Should Monflanquin suggest a saint, it would be Sainte Mado. Perhaps, it is time to drop Pope Frances a line.

Strawberry, Raspberry, Fig, Orange, and Melon Jam!