Grey clouds with shafts of sunlight create beautiful colors. Storms don’t seem too bad from the comfort of my couch.
Here’s a friend’s barn on Sunday. The colors were
very dramatic.
Tonight, pink clouds formed over the mountains, followed by lightning and gravel sized hail.
Who needs TV with all this drama outside.
We both fretted about stepping the mast. We thought we might have the option of hiring someone, but no such luck. So we searched the internet for suggestions. The marina had a crane, but we had to figure out how to hook the mast, lift it without harm to us or the boat and then detach the crane,
named giraffe.
I found this great knot and article.
Then I researched a rolling hitch on Grog’s knots and came up with Ashley’s variation, knot 1734.
This kept the mast knot from slipping up the mast as it was raised.
All went well until we couldn’t undo the knot ( because we strayed from internet suggestions and tied it above our radar and spreaders and couldn’t slide it down).
We attracted spectators including one who provided helpful suggestions. We tried tilting the boat to the bulkhead but ultimately fixed a knife to the end of the boat hook and cut the loop. Not elegant but only two feet of line was sacrificed. Next time we’ll attach our improvised sling below the radar and spreaders. Then the crowd dispersed until we mistakenly hung our Canadian Maple Leaf, courtesy flag, upside down. We’ve been known to do this before.
Tomorrow, when the wind lies (lays?) down, we’ll put the sails up and Tim will be on his way while I walk to the bus, take the bus to Longuiele, take the Metro to Montreal, a bus to Plattsburgh, walk two miles to the marina and drive an hour home. I have to remember it took me 4 days to get here by boat.
Here’s our evening sunset over the St. Lawrence Seaway before we had pizza delivered to the boat!
The rain abated and we headed out for another walk on a mountain that overlooks a manmade lake. Our first mistake was not bringing lunch and the town, Liausson, had no restaurant or market. Off we went to Octon to a creperie for a bowl of cider (lap it up) and crepes. Then back we came and headed into the hills.
All was well for so much of the hike. When we teached the top, we could see another lilliputian town on the other side of the mountain, the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean. Why, we could even see Spain from our backyard.
Look at that smile. So happy.
Until…we reached a shaded, canted, steep, slippery section on our descent. Let’s just say I didn’t like it one bit. In fact I had a “little” panic attack and Tim had to talk me off the cliff, so to speak, with me gripping his arm as I slipslided away.
But descend we did with only a little butt sliding on my part.
I shouldn’t have complained about toilets lacking seats since we encountered this one.
In full disclosure we also found one with a padded seat. Not too bad when there’s no central heat.
Then we were invited to a friend of our proprietors’ to settle up our bill, after 7. So we ate a hearty soup I made with fresh veggies from the market and headed out. Only to find appetizers, local wine and a seafood stew bubbling in the pressure cooker. Oops. Who knew?
Lots of clouds, drizzle or rain. Yesterday we headed to Montpelier and swam in their beautiful, somewhat crowded, 50 m pool.
They have these nifty little hanger baskets for shoes, which must come off before entering the locker room, and outerwear.
Then we walked around the city. As did lots of others with colorful umbrellas. Our drive home on freeways was a little unnerving because we (I the navigator) headed off in the wrong direction more than once.
The cathedral is gianormous.
Today was still drizzly and we took another city excursion to Sommiers, with a bridge from Roman times still in use. And black swans just like Tasmania.
We found a nice walk up into the hills which allowed us to work off our crepes.
We heard of a poppy field just outside Aniane and Tim found it on our way home.
It reminded me of the beautiful tulips we saw in Amsterdam during our six hour layover and visit with old friends. I was too jetlagged to remember my camera though.
Oh yes! Why don’t french public toilets have seats?!
Tim has been focusing on the flowers that seem to grow on air from the old walls, bromiliads?
I’m impressed with the variety of graffiti.
Then I hit a communication wall. I needed a haircut. I went to the salon with Tim and his friend, Patrick, who is fluent in french. I had to wait until Friday so they made it clear it needed to be long enough for a ponytail.
I even had this phrase on my phone, “J’aimerais bien garder les longueurs afin de pouvoir les mettre dans le queue de cheval si vous plait.” You can translate it but it politely asks to keep it long enough for a pony tail. Day of the haircut I felt like an animal at the vet. Until an english song came on the radio, “I’m too drunk to f••k”. Good thing she and her customers didn’t speak english! Here’s the song.
We cannot read the hiking maps. An easy walk turned into a 5.5 hour moderately difficult hike. Thank goodness we met a couple from the Isle of Skye, equally confused, who shed some light on where we might be.I became extremely quiet and stated an absolute turnaround time but we confirmed our location before we needed to turn around.
The trail numbers are variable, Tim thinks he’s got it now, I remain dubious. But the sights, which cannot be captured by camera, were spectaculor.
We could see our little village of Aniane way off in the distance.
We were even higher than the other day. I was surprised when some mountain bikers rode up the trail.
Some parts of the road were built more than a thousand years ago and were better than any Adirondack trail. 
We enjoyed some fresh spring water and a cold beer at the end of the hike and all was well with the world.
I’ve had an inkling that I would like to make a pilgramage to Compestello along “the way”. It turns out we are staying in a town along one of the paths, specifically GR653. So we walked 4.7 miles to the next town, St. Guilhem le Desert, along the route today. It was spectacular and moving. We walked from one Abbey to the next on a path that has been followed for perhaps a thousand years.
We lacked the accoutrements of a pilgram: no staff or scallop shell. 
Instead I had a camera. We crossed a beautiful bridge built in the year 800 AD. Unfortunately, a good part of the walk was along a busy road but a path came and went along the river L’Herault.
Once in the village, we spotted a side path and began along it. It looked like it might take us to the top of a mountain where we saw the ruins of a fortress or wall and away we went. It was a well graded cobblestone path for most of the way until it wasn’t.
That’s our destination at the top of the mountain.
I almost chickened out before the last ascent until I found a path I could handle.
We enjoyed the windy views, then had a beer and coffee in the village square. We decided to take a 10 minute bus back to our apartment. Much easier.
My year of no purchased clothes is well underway but I haven’t really had to defer any purchases at this point. I made my own piece of fabric for fabric’s sake though. One Christmas, I made towels for everyone and Andre thought he might like the same fabric for a pair of pajama pants, which he has expertly sewn in the past. Well a birthday came and I wove some fabric. I wove it in a small rose path pattern with an easy to remember treadling sequence. It’s been cut off the loom and sent to the tailor.
Then it gets complicated. I made a scarf for a friend of a friend of my DD. The wearer has been replaced by a new bare neck and a second, albeit slightly better, scarf has been requested. I worked up a shadow weave. I’m not sure if this is leaving my house yet though because it feels luscious. The two colors, variegated tencel, and alpaca wool, are too close to really work with shadow weave, which can be a tricky weaving pattern because you use each color every other row. My feet refused to cooperate. Sometimes I would be muttering #1 to myself and look down and find my foot, which I thought was on the first treadle, actually on the fourth treadle. Happily, these mistakes, like most of the pattern, can’t be seen.
This got me thinking about weaving and sewing something for myself. I think I’ll make a vest for a big event in DD’s life, for me. Maybe I’ll look as handsome as this guy.
Sometimes the most beautiful images occur on the dreariest days. Rainbows don’t appear on sunny days. Yesterday was gray with freezing rain predicted. I went for a run and minutes after I got home, it started pouring with a little sun peaking through. I got the camera out because I thought for sure a rainbow would form and wasn’t disappointed.
First a dull, double rainbow emerged.
Then one dissolved and the other became more vivid.
Finally, it widened across the sky.
If it had been a sunny day, I wouldn’t have this to talk about. I followed the rainbow all the way to work and when I got there, found the pot of gold. Apparently, I have been accruing vacation time and don’t take enough time off!! Lighthouses and sailing, here I come. And more rainbows to chase.
Tim nearly dragged me out of the house today to take a hike. I’ve been down with a cold and my exercise plan has gone to pot – for now at least.
All’s good though. I finished last minute Christmas gifts and shipped a wedding gift. It’s a tartan throw I wove. The plaid was from a wedding dress from 1766 in Scotland.
I’m pleased with it. I hope the bride to be is too.
We snowshoed next door and saw evidence of a piliated woodpecker
Beavers
Some little critters that live in a hole in the snow
And people who build rock cairns
Except for a small meltdown by me, a good time was had by all (Tim).
Island and North Country Life 