La Maison des Mots - July 2025
Summer…
As Summer set its course, my brother passed from this world…
David Randolph McIntosh – Born - 13th, February 1948, in Port Alberni Hospital. Died - 22nd, June - 2025, in a care facility in Lynne Valley. He was desperate to die at home, on Bowen Island - his beautiful place, though it was not to be. David’s last day was peaceful however. Hearing a parade of bagpipes was especially joyous. He received a shave and a haircut. He listened to Bob Dylan on his iPad.
For me, the shock of my big brother, my last link, leaving this mortal coil before I could voyage to kiss him farewell is taking its toll. What is a favourite memory? Well today it is the day he encouraged the whole neighbourhood to hold a picnic to crown me Queen. I was 5, he was 13. It was somewhat overwhelming to have all those eyes upon me perched in a throne of sorts, covered in a velvet robe with my wee head sporting a shiny crown. The love I felt, and still feel from this lofty gesture of my big brother lifts my sorrowful spirits.
My April, May, and June guests have all come and gone, now another memory. For the month of June a young woman, the daughter of friends in New York, came to stay. I love the energy of the young. I learnt a lot from this month of observation while adding more ideas to my brain of the current world we exist in. I feel this was a good experience for both us. A shared moment between two women of different ages, different cultures, and different lives.
Having reflected some time on these many years lived without bearing children, or having a lot to do with children, I do understand more why I made the choice to remain single and childless. I made the choice to live independently, to work, and to love my work. And I love the memories of all those experiences I garnered from 44 full-on years of labouring. And these past eight years find me creating new work. The aging frame moves slower, but still, I find joy in this choice to labour simply, but with purpose.
The temperature has been rising, and we now are in a full-on canicule. I pad about my big old house – together we breath deep and cool. I keep the shutters closed on these hot days. It seems the darkness adds to the morale of this moment. I appreciate this benefit of being able to keep still - I have a lot to process. Mostly, I grieve alone, but friends are near, and my friends across the pond are on the telephone. So, I am not lonely.
I am not sure if Minette is sad to see her other cuddling friends go, or is she pleased to have me and the house and garden to herself again? She sticks close, insisting I go into the garden with her even though this wave of heat finds her languishing - she wants to be there, with me. Her tolerance for extreme heat is almost worrisome, has her brain fried?
There is lots of nice news about the simple small-town life. We have enjoyed some beautiful concerts, one in a winery barn where a few neighbouring wineries shared copious amounts of their delicious Pouilly Fumé. The annual concert in the église, featuring L'Orchestre de la Garde Républicaine. Another jazzy evening with musicians from Paris. Festivals galore, all around the region, all summer long. Brocante season is in full swing. The Ice-Cream parlour which is operated by the jewel box chocolate shop has re-opened for the Summer months. Oh my, I am addicted to the Sicilian Pistache.
A new bar has opened. Well, it was an old bar which had closed for a while. New owners and new ideas for keeping the coffee klatch set happy. (do you know that this term comes from the German word kaffeeklatsch – an informal gathering over coffee to chat and gossip) One of the restaurants is boasting a new chef and the menu is lovely. Though for some reason they were playing music, which I am not fond of in restaurants. I love this quote: “Music in a restaurant is an insult to both the musicians and the chef”. Of course, this was written long ago, when music could only be heard while musicians performed with their instruments in situ. When civilization lived without… Phonograph Cylinders – 1877, Records – 1887, Radio – 1896, Cassette Tape – 1963, CDs – 1982, or any other of these new-fangled modern devices for listening. But this thoughtful sentiment still, feels appropriate to me. Let me hear others gossip. I love the clatter of forks and knives, glasses tinkling, staff setting tables, making drinks, chefs bellowing, it all adds to the understanding of what it takes to make a restaurant tick. Listen, observe, and appreciate. Allow yourself to be a part of the magic. When I had my restaurant, I was crazy for blues and jazz. Many folks liked it, but I am sure many did not. If I was to do a restaurant today, there would not be music. Just me blathering on at your table.
Through the months of July and August, I have a scattering of guests. September and October are busy. My Summer will find me in the garden. If I work my luck well, my garden, now very stressed with the heat, will once again be happy and beautiful to regard as Summer morphs into Autumn.
I send you all my wishes to remain strong, and to make your way with integrity through this turbulent time in our histoire…
Barbara-jo
La Charité-sur-Loire - July, 2025