Provence sabbatical day 13 – reflections and panes

I adore mirrors. Not because I enjoy spending hours looking into them. But because of reflections are like memories. What you see when you look into one, isn’t necessarily what others would see. And just like memories, some reflections are crisp and sharp, and others are mottled and jaded. I particularly love the bathroom mirror, and think it fits the house perfectly; showing it’s age, oozing character, and a whole bunch of fairy tale magic. Mado kept me company this morning while I figured out how the panel pins work, to keep the mirror in place.

Marcel got the washing machine installed in no time, and even did two loads of washing! It works great ๐Ÿ™‚ He also tackled some of the lighting upstairs, where the fittings had come apart. After bravely repairing the mirror, I got hold of the bedroom windows and spent pretty much the whole day sculpting putty around the edges. “Don’t make it too neat” I interpreted Pen’s wish to mean she doesn’t want it looking like it was machine-made. So, the window panes have a pretty organic feel about them.

I took a break to make a lasagne, and to stir up the compost heap. I’m delighted to say that there is some action happening at the bottom. We’ve got the fork at the ready and will pitch it every now and then.

Talk about a scare … Mado was a little uneasy this evening, suddenly looking old. Staring into space and not lying down as much as he was. Then as I started on the blog, he started moving in a very strange way. As if his brain wasn’t working with his body. My first thought was some sort of stroke. No! You can’t do this to us, Mado!!

I phoned Christiane, who in spite of being knackered from a long day, agreed to come and see him. I fetched her, and by the time we got back, Mado was moving normally again. Phewie!! So she enjoyed a glass of wine with Marcel, and we shared some of our blog photos. She told us some stories about the house – great stuff. Mado seems to be doing okay. Hope I get some sleep … xxx