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black eye

Yesterday, after my visit to L’Arche, Magali’s husband Dan drove me back to Gordes. Denis wasn’t there, so I called his cell; he was taking a bike ride. He’d spent the afternoon installing a new washing machine and asked, since Dan was there, if the two of us would lift the dryer back down – we’d slid it earlier onto the freezer but now it was going not on top of the washer but on the floor, and since his operation he’s not supposed to lift anything heavy. The dryer was fairly small, as French machines tend to be, so I was sure I’d have no problem. However, when we started to lift, it was much heavier than I’d thought, I started to drop it, leaned forward to grab it properly, and it hit me in the eye. Long story short, we got the dryer into place, and I have a purple/blue/black eye. My great beauty is temporarily marred.

We went for a walk this beautiful Provencal morning to pick tiny daffodils in the woods and then had lunch on the patio; Denis made an endive salad and steamed broccoli and fried fish and then we had cheese, coffee, chocolate, fruit, with of course, a superb bottle from the cave. A simple lunch. Then, time to pack up the Gordes house and drive to Montpellier, where they have an apartment; Denis had a physio appointment and Lynn is coming back from Paris tomorrow. It feels like the tropics here – I’m in a sleeveless top.

 I asked Denis to take both the daffodils and my eye, but with my hooded lids, you can’t see the lovely right eye.

Better, anyway, to look at the tiny daffs in their tiny backyard.

From the car – the ancient walls of Avignon as we drove by.

Two days here, and then on Friday, off to Nice for the second last stage of the journey – the weekend there with Brucie. If this is Tuesday, it must be Montpellier.

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3 Responses to “black eye”

  1. theresa says:

    The daffodils are so besutiful, Beth! And take care! You're my eyes (and appetite) in France…

  2. theresa says:

    Oops. You knew I meant "beautiful"?

  3. beth says:

    If there's one person I know knows how to spell, it's you, Theresa. Okay, I'll enjoy eating for two.

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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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