Sunday, June 20, 2010

Day 11: Party

Sleeping in this morning felt amazing. Well rested, I woke up at 10:15, and ate a quick breakfast with Garth. He had to drive to Carcassonne to pick up Cheryl, another workawayer. Cheryl was here a few weeks ago, left to go to a workshop, then had to go home to Florida unexpectedly, and is now back.

Since I had some time, I decided to be productive. I was going to finish taking the render off the wall on the front of the house, but there is a very active beehive in the wall where I had to work, and I wasn't so keen on whacking a beehive with a pick while standing fifteen feet up on a ladder. I'll wait until Garth helps me plug up the hole. Instead, I did the dishes. This involves getting a bucket of hot water from the tap, bringing it downstairs, and pouring some in the washing bowl and some in the rinsing. It is done in an ancient "sink," a big stone with a drain that leads outside the house. A bucket must be put outside to collect the dirty water to be put in the garden, or else the foodstuffs stay in the drain.

When the dishes were done I got to work finishing the coat rack. I was almost finished when Garth and Cheryl arrived. They headed inside to get lunch ready and do some other things, and I, getting distracted from the filing, found a patch of render and had to pick it off. I got out the ladder and began to work on it. When I was finished, Garth came out and we put the coat rack up. We screwed into the rock, and welded the rack to the screws. After lunch and lazing around, it was time to go.

Dressed in our finest, we got in the car and began driving north. We arrived at Garth's brother's house at about seven. He and his lovely wife have two beautiful blonde girls, two and four years old. While we waited for the babysitter to arrive, I played with the children and socialized with the adults. The kids have the cutest English accents, and speak unaccented French as well. When eight o'clock rolled around, we headed to the party.

A mix of French speakers and English speakers, almost all separated by a generation from me, were in attendance. It was in a beautiful house; the host is a wine maker. The meat never got barbecued, so there was not much food, and a lot of drink. This lead to quite the night. It's funny how parties don't change as people get older. Except for the quality and abundance of drinks, both much superior to any college party, and the average age, this could have been right out of a college Saturday night.

Using our very good judgment, we decided not to drive anywhere to sleep. Instead, we took out our sleeping bags and slept right there in the lawn, Garth and Cheryl in the car, and me on the ground with my sleeping pad. God, did it feel good to sleep.

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