milano

my son loves fashion, and we had never visited milan before, so we took advantage of an extended french “toussaint” school holiday to make the 8 hour run along the french coast into italy and north into milan. not 15 minutes after arriving, while still driving our car to the hotel, a guy on a motorcycle punctured the sidewall of our tire (we would piece all of this together later), then followed us until we had to pull over, and, after pretending to help my husband as he replaced the tire with a spare, this lovely older gentleman suddenly disappeared into thin air. it wasn’t until we began putting our things back into the car, with the tire changed, that i discovered he had made off with my purse, in which i was carrying my wallet, 300 euros of cash, all my credit cards, and, the icing on the cake, all three of our passports. believe it or not, we were able to get all of our cards canceled, take out enough cash to make it through the stay, order a new tire and have it installed at a repair shop, and get three brand new emergency passports from the u.s. consulate in milan. then we finished our trip, ate three good meals, visited the galleria vittorio emannuele ii, walked the most expensive retail street in europe, the via monte napoleone, and drank the best coffee of our trip so far, after two-plus months of pretty mediocre french coffee. although living well is supposedly the best revenge, i would still give up some living well in order to spend maybe half an hour in a concrete room with a fly swatter and a naked milanese man with a scruffy beard, asking him how he likes robbing mary jo hoffman now. and now. and now. how about now? then i would wipe my fingers under my chin at him, and walk away.

chestnut /châtaigne

rulebreaker not lawbreaker (maybe)

these giant agave plants are plentiful here in southern france. but they tend to grow on the edges of roads, stone walls, and hedgerows and as a result, get pretty banged up by tractors, people, and cars. this one, growing in a fenced-off abandoned garden on the outskirts of our village, has been left to grow undisturbed. i see only one scar on it. the full plant is a sculptural beauty. but i was only able to photograph it through the garden fence, and so caught only the tips. i am a rule breaker, not a lawbreaker. even so, i may, or may not, (or may) be working on my fence-jumping trespassing skills.

giant agave

essence

i plucked the leaves from these eucalyptus branches to reveal the young seed heads hiding among the foliage.  i am smitten with the delicate bouquet that emerged. if i had a wedding right now, i would make a bouquet like this. simple, elegant, pared to its essence.

eucalyptus seeds

shifting winds

in the summer, in southern french wine country, you want the wind to come from the north, because it is dry and keeps the grapes from succumbing to mildew and fungal disease. a steady marine wind from the south can cause endless headaches.  in the fall you want the wind to come from the south, where it is warm, and where rain might fall and replenish the soil with water the vines can draw from. a north wind in the fall is just biting and cold. this roseau, or reed, appears to be subject to every kind of wind at once, and looks elegantly flustered.

roadside reeds (roseau)

coing, not poire

an excerpt from my husband’s instagram post says it all:

“I once found one of these beneath a tree in my neighbor’s orchard. I brought the enormous pear home to my family. What enormous pears they grow in France, I said. Then I put the gigantic pear on the terrace table and forgot about it for several weeks, during which time it did not soften, did not change color, and did not rot. I admired the heartiness of this feisty pear every time I passed it on the way to do laundry or grill dinner. Then one day I saw an identical enormous pear at the market, but it was labeled “coing” not “poire,” because, of course, the supernatural pear on my table was actually a very average quince.”

quince (coing)