Monday, February 15, 2010

C'est Moi

la petite fontaine

We played in the medieval cave at La Petite Fontaine Saturday night and, as could have been predicted, the acoustics were...challenging. But it was a nice place and a good crowd of people, many English and some French including two women in their seventies who'd gotten all dressed up and sat there bobbing to the noise, until one of them rose to do a little dancing. I was losing my voice but it was uplifting to play again - it was the first gig we'd done since the Kevin Coyne shows in December.

Driving home through the snowy, moonlit countryside, bundled up and starting to come down with a monstrous cold and sore throat, I imagined we were Omar Sharif and Julie Christie in Dr. Zhivago, the ambulance a sleigh gliding across the frozen steppes. I was clearly getting delirious.

Yesterday I felt awful and then the heating stopped working again. This is the third time this winter we've run out of fuel. I crawled out to the barn to get some logs for the fire wearing hideous sweatpants, clogs, bathrobe, quilted down vest, scarf, hat and then collapsed back into bed, leaving it to Eric to take care of me for the rest of the day.


There were icicles on the awning out back, and in one way they looked beautiful and in another like the bars on a prison window. I was miserably ill. Emmanuel came over bearing a nice bag of Portugese figs and the first season of Twin Peaks. And then, desperate for cold medicine, I rummaged through an old bag of toiletries and found a box of slightly out of date nighttime sinus medication. How many times back in the US have I cursed those Walgreens stores that are on every corner - but the familiar logo was like a wave hello from a dear old friend.

Today, I feel like I want to live. I've been very caught up in "Madame Bovary". I'd started it last year but the type was too small, I needed to wait until I had a better pair of glasses. Then I read Tom Perotta's "Little Children" and there's a book group in there who read the book - I knew I had to get back to it.

trusty woodburner

And in my fever yesterday, I wondered how I could go so long in life without reading it? It was some consolation, thinking that if we weren't here, at this moment, in the French countryside, me sick in bed, I might not be reading the book.

A fuel delivery is coming tomorrow. And another gig on Saturday. I hope we'll be en forme by then. Right now we're possibly more Ratso Rizzo and Joe Buck than Sharif/Christie.


Rosie said...

your wood stove is pretty though...
I hope it is more co operative than ours...

alexh said...

I wish you better Amy. Medieval caves, fever, frozen steppes, icicles. Your imagination sounds overloaded!
Take care,

amy said...

It's either roaring hot (if stoked constantly) or cold and dead - there seems to be no in between Rosie. Ah well, it was what we could afford, and it is pretty to look at.

Thanks Alex - hopefully it won't inspire some song cycle involving gnomes and flora and fauna. That's something the world can probably do without.

Non Je Ne Regrette Rien said...

'I'd started it last year but the type was too small, I needed to wait until I had a better pair of glasses. ' well, that says it all!! hot or cold and no in-between really only works in american politics... so here's wishing us either a new year of heating alternatives or affordable tickets to sunny alternatives next winter.

Ed Ward said...

That heater reminds me of the coal ovens still in proud use in Berlin. 21st century city, 14th century technology. You go to bed uncomfortably hot and wake up 8 hours later frozen. Then you have to sweep out the ashes and start another fire, with coal bricks that smudge your hands almost indelibly. You're right: hot or cold. No inbetween. Long live chauffage centrale!

amy said...

Sunny alternatives gets my vote Kim!

Maybe the wood fire is better than coal at least, Ed? At least there's the lovely smell, and the feel of the logs. I'm sounding like David Lynch here. I feel so proud I finally got the hang of laying a fire. But will happily put that new skill away in exchange for spring.

chris46 said...

Get well soon Amy!
Dayna and I have tickets 1 and 2 for the Thunderbolt in March - Bernie at the ticket shop put your name on them as well as Eric's.
I lost all my computerised music last month but luckily had Bobblehead Doll on the i-Pod.
I've had to ask friends to lend me back Xmas compilations to re-load lost tracks. Best wishes, Chris

amy said...

hi Chris, hope tickets 3, 4 and 5 sell as well! Even if it's just the four of us (and Dave the owner and his wife) it'll be fun - I love Bristol. see you next month.