French Food and More

I don't need to tell you how wonderful French food is. It makes cooking a pleasure, and everything tastes better here. Suddenly the weather hurdled into unseasonably cold ( 38 degrees F). Because I packed so lightly as an American Covid refugee should, I did not bring any warm clothing. Each week I head over to the Charity Store to search for sweaters, jackets, scarves, etc. One day, I felt so desperate and cold that I bought pants at the grocery store. Why not? Due to the pandemic, dressing rooms remain shut. That means discreetly finding a little corner without a mirror for try ons. I usually come home with some passably fitting garment to add to my cold weather wardrobe collection. The other day, I scurried up to the Charity Shop only to find an incomprehensibly long line outside. The line is for food assistance the volunteer in the shop explained. The main objective of the Charity Shop is to use the money we spend there to provide food for the needy. I felt quite taken aback. I honestly never thought about the needy of Monflanquin and its vicinity. On the surface, people here seem well off, but many jobs were lost due to Covid and life circumstances.  I resolved to spend as much money as possible in pursuit of a Charity Shop winter wardrobe. My last purchase, a scarf, totaled 50 centimes. I objected and insisted on paying two euros. It's actually really hard to spend  a lot of money in the Charity Shop. Almost everything costs two euros. I will need to find another way to help.

Dinner sized tomato

  

Fall Market Bounty

My French Rental Car

My Blue Renault Captur Rental

My blue rental car greets  me  with  congratulatory music upon entering.  At home, I drive a 1997 Volvo which feels as comfortable as an old sweater.  I study the  rental car's manual and hope for the best.   A thick rectangular key card opens the doors.  To start the engine, step hard on the brake and push the stop/start button.  The parking brake light goes off, and off you go! Big Blue does drive like a dream, but I wish it were the size of a Smart Car on narrow French roads and in parking spaces. 

 

Yesterday, Big Blue and moi went to the big Saturday market in Villereal. Blanche my GPS (I do clearly like to name inanimate objects) advised me to go down narrow picturesque streets to reach my destination. Holding my breath, Big Blue and moi went round in circles until we miraculously squeezed into a parking space. Ouf. I walked quickly to Maggie's Cafe to meet my friend. After coffee, I soon realized I was in trouble. Where had I parked? In my haste, I did not take enough time to focus on the street names. Oy. I felt lost. I now needed Blanche to help me find Big Blue. Finally, I remembered passing a bakery on the way to the center of the market. But where was it? In desperation, I stopped at a vendor's prune stand to ask about the nearest bakery. Her directions made sense, and I soon found Big Blue. Whew!