About a week and a half ago while Dude and I were shopping at the market, I happen to hear a mother and her son speaking American. Yes-that’s right, I said American. The reason why this was so shocking is that in the middle of the nowhere area of Provence that I live you don’t hear American too often.
I approached the mother and son and asked if they were from American and with wide eyes the mother replied, “Yes! Are you?” Well, of course I said yes and she was surprised as well when I told her that I lived in France. Now, I tell you, I’ve never seen someone more excited to see a fellow American than this lady. The minute I told her that I was a Provencal girl she wanted my number and was inviting Dude, myself and Tinki over (it just so happens that she has a daughter the same age as mine). She said that she had lived in Provence for a long time, but was never around any Americans. Her husband is French and her children go to French schools. She was so happy to speak to an American that I thought she was just going to leap over and hug me! Her son reiterated that fact that his mom was dying to meet another American to chat with.
Well, we hit if of right there in the market and chatted American for about an hour and a half and by the end of the conversation she had invited us over for a day at her place! We nearly closed the place down that night and when there was only 30 minutes to closing we exchanged numbers, promised to give each other a call to hook up and took off like lightening speed to finish our shopping before they kicked our American behinds out.
Fast forward to mid-week.
I gave my new American friend a call around Wednesday and we decided that this past Saturday we would hooked up. So on Saturday morning we headed out to their place and oh my goodness is their place amazing! They have the most wonderful view of the Mediterranean Sea and vineyards just in front of their yard and their house is the most adorable Provencal house ever!
It was an unbelievable how marvelous the weather was. Not a cloud in the sky and just a light breeze.
My new friend made us Cobb Salad for lunch with bread and cheese, of course, and Dude chatted it up with her husband. We ate on the terrace overlooking the water and it was just breathtaking.
After lunch, we picked apricots, mulberries, almonds ( and some other fruit I don’t know the name of ) right off of their garden trees and then we sat around and chatted some more while munching on them.
We got the grand tour of the area and the story of the family.
They also have a cute little dog name Spot and guess what?? My most favorite animal of all, a turtle 🙂
It was one of the most delightful days we had spent out in a while. I tell you, we have the best times with American girlfriends who are married to French men! It’s always nice to chat with a fellow American girl all about peanut butter, Dr. Pepper, Pop Rocks and Hugh Jackman!
The first thing I do in the morning when I wake up is to open our blinds and French doors which lead out to our wonderful terrace. Then I step out and take a look around at the beautiful trees, the view of the Mediterranean and I listen for a few minutes to the Cigales.
Well, this morning I awoke to a big piece of cat poop (the size of pigs-in-a-blanket) on my lovely terrace! Boy was I pissed! I don’t have a cat. What the heck was that doing there?? There was no way I was going out there with that chunk of stuff messing up my neat and tidy balcony.
So I did what any woman would do. I called for Dude and told him to clean it up. That’s right. Don’t even start because all you ladies out there would do the same thing.
Here is how it went
Me: “Dude! Come here! I need help with something!”
Dude (coming into the living room): “What?”
Me: “There is a piece of cat poop on the terrace. Get it.”
Dude (making a ewww-that’s gross face): “I don’t wanna get it.”
Me: “Look at it. Just look at it! Some dumb cat decided to poop on my terrace. You have to get it or the wind is gonna pick it up and blow it in the house! Then there will be a chunk of cat poop on the living room floor.”
Dude: “I don’t want to look at it. I don’t want to get it.”
Me: “You have to get it Dude. You can’t leave it there. Just throw it over the terrace and into the neighbor’s yard. It is probably their cat anyway.”
Dude: “I don’t want to get it!!!!”
Me: “GET IT!”
Dude (as he leaves the living room): “I hate my job.”
Dude finally comes back with some toilet paper in his hand.
Me: “I don’t think that is enough toilet paper. What are you going to do with it?”
Dude: “Flush it.” (Then he goes to get it and realizes how gross and big it is) “Ewwww! That’s sick. Dumb cat… Really?? Did he jump up on our 4th story balcony just to do that!”
I start cracking up as he is carrying it to the bathroom to flush it down the toilet. Mostly because the face he was making was so funny.
If this ever happens again, I’m setting a trap for that dang cat. Nothing that will kill it or anything. Geesh people, I ain’t cruel! You can be sure it will teach the darn thing a lesson, though. Besides there is a perfectly good balcony next door to ours that would be just as useful in the future. Poop Cat can just go visit them from now on.
And for those of you who like photos, I hope you are not disappointed. I purposely did not take one. I don’t need anyone complaining that they threw up all over their keyboard or brand new IPhone.