Two days ago, typing happily away on my computer, the battery icon turned yellow and the warning to recharge popped up on my screen. No problem. I was prepared for this and pulled out the plug adapter and current converter. I was not prepared for what followed—bleeps, flashing warning pop-ups, and a dwindling percentage displayed in the battery symbol. I unplugged and re-plugged. I switched outlets. I was tempted to try magical words—from curses to blessings to pleading on my knees. This was a problem—no computer nor internet for a month!?! And little chance to find something for an American-type issue out in the French countryside. I e-mailed (Blackberry) my daughter to order something and send it express, not happy about the cost and worried that our address was only the nearby village’s name. But my daughter, well-named for a conquering goddess, came to the rescue! While in Peru this summer, her roommate had discovered that only the transformer was needed, with an adapter for the plug. The converter only messes things up. So, I deleted the converter from the plug adapter-converter-computer plug chain and tentatively pushed the adapter into the 220 volt outlet. Voilà! I’m back in business. Turns out, I already have what I need.
After lunch, I set out for a hike with another from le Mas. It was 12, 20, maybe a bit under 100 kilometers—we never could get the exact number from our host—through forest and along fields, a distant cowbell and moo punctuating our thoughts. It was really quite fun. Me speaking in French, she nicely tolerating this assault on her mother tongue. We had a map and description which, at times was good and other times not. For instance, we stood on what was supposed to be the 5th bridge, having counted only 4, deciding if this was the place we were supposed to turn left. But we progressed on the trail and were almost back to le Mas. “Cross the field” were the directions given now. OK, we were game. But the mown field gave no indication of the next path to be found. So close, yet so far. And the sun was lowering in the sky. We hiked back and forth to the last turn-off, got directions from a man in the village to go in a totally opposite way, made one—no, make that two—phone calls to le Mas, and finally headed up a field that had been right there all along. We already had what we had needed, we just needed to see.
This was the view, looking back at the top of that field that we climbed, the cows (those brown aggregate dots in the upper righthand corner) greeting us as we joined the path back to dinner and le Mas.
A “P.S”. to the moral of having already having what I need. This cheese plate comes out every lunch and dinner between the main course and dessert. Just wanted to let you know that I’m having Roquefort twice a day now—pinch me, am I in heaven or not? Madame Françoise tells me that I may have it for breakfast, too, if I want!