it's Saturday

Coffee today, the first cup I've actually brewed here. With sweet vanilla soy, alongside a good long phone conversation with a friend from close to home, it all but washed away the bitter taste of job that was still stuck in my teeth from yesterday. Breakfast could not have been more satisfying or delicious, a frittata of browned onion, sliced potato and sauteed kale from last year's harvest; a few cloves of garlic, probably from Mexico; lovely orange-yolked eggs from my caller's farm; a bit of tasty goat cheese from Wisconsin and a little leftover cube of sheep feta from France, for good measure; accompanied by a chunk of Rustica's Levain, smeared with butter from Hope Creamery. Yum, double yum.

**

Talking this morning was a reminder that this blog used to be about a something, while now, it seems, it's all about me... It's true that I lost focus on the garden last year, as my energy began to move away from earth and toward water, and that muddied things a little. I'm a little reluctant to admit it, but I guess it's also true that I lost my conviction, lost my passion, lost the heart of what I thought I was working toward. I can't really say I'm looking forward to gardening this year, much as I wish I could. I feel as though my work in the coming season will be to dig up my own bones and grow something from them, a garden that will thrive on sorrow, watered with tears. This is work I know I must do, and no doubt the gardens will be living and beautiful, nonetheless. It's my intent to try to write about that here, to keep a record of how things grow. We'll see.

**

Now I return to the task at hand, my crash-course in French... I've made little progress today--on anything, really. The truth is that I'm not feeling inspired to make many plans, except about where to find food, and after the way the past week has gone I'd just like to hop on a plane and get the hell out of here. I can walk around a city and not talk to people, with abandon. I can spend a whole afternoon working to achieve one respectable photo and I'm willing to try eating just about anything. I will gladly wander markets and ask: Qu'est-ce que c'est? Vouz parlais Anglais? Ou sont Jacque Cousteau? So I think I'm pretty much ready to go. Just need to get packed.