12 June 2010
01:34 Toulouse
(Photos)
It’s funny. We sit here all night drinking wine and talking about the things two old friends talk about, and this is a conversation experience whatever we could have on Mars. It is a mere accident of history that we are sitting in this particular Toulousianne apartment drinking this particular wine and eating this particular cheese.
Time is not important when you are living in time. Space is not important when you are living in space. As the Taoists would say, it is not in the sides or bed of the cart where you find usefulness; it is in the empty space within where usefulness resides.
It seems so easy to be at peace. I am baffled why I this is not the default state. It was a quiet evening in the end. Eric has been moving all week and is rightly tired. I wasn’t all that motivated to insist we ‘do something’ on a Friday night knowing how stressful it is for me to be in a crowd.
We finished the Fronton, devoured a baguette and a half, and exhausted our two cheeses.
Eric is the master marketer. He laughed and reminded me that our superb feast was costing us all of about six dollars. About eight if we add in both bottles (though we haven’t finished the Fronton).
My friend Nadia tells me this is her definition of bon viveur (usually now bon vivant) and I have to concur. One need neither overindulge nor squander resources in order to live the good life. It is as though the good life were auto-limited by simplicity.
My poor ally is once again crashed askew on the couch. I love the man, but he can fall asleep on a subway platform at rush hour. I don’t know how many times we drew on his face for having passed out after a night of partying. Turns out they did this tough-love on this side of the Atlantic as well. Oh, the things that have been drawn on his face…
What makes this lights-out for Eric so particularly priceless is that we spent the better part of the afternoon getting his bed and putting it together. “Finally, I am going to sleep in my fucking bed, Jim”. Not!
I’ll be laughing for days.
Let me fill you in a little more on the day. We went to the appliance place to get the now arrived dish washer. Funny place. You order your appliances on-line and they are shipped to this little lay-station (warehouse?). You can arrange to borrow their van (the previously mentioned Mercedes) to bring your stuff around. Eric borrowed it with some extra time bargained in so that he could get other things. Today it was the bed from Florent’s place (where Eric used to live).
Eric’s bed is a reflection of, at least in part, his new interest in Buddhism. It is a very low flung futon with tatami mats (which smell wonderful by the way). It completely disassembles so it was easy enough to transport. The rolling and schlepping of the mattress was the toughest part.
This morning, what I saw of it, was hot and sunny; but in the afternoon it stormed a bit. We managed to miss the storming during the periods when we were actually in danger of getting wet. Mostly it rained as we drove between the warehouse and Florent’s and then from Florent’s back to Eric’s.
I left the skylight open and had to soak up a bunch of water after bringing all the stuff up from the main floor hallway. These things happen. Leave sunny, a bit of a storm, and an ass load of water to soak out of your carpet before you put socks and and regret it.
I’m sure I’m forgetting a thousand details. My apologies.
I’m getting tired myself. While Eric was napping I watched the season finale for My Name Is Earl season two and the first two episodes of season three (which I haven’t watched yet). Love the Earl. Great stuff.
Can’t get over this radio station though. I’ll be streaming that when I get back home. There was an American DJ this afternoon. I just can’t imagine a French DJ (speaking French) on the air regularly in Seattle. Fascinating.
Ok. Keep safe, kids. I’ll be writing more soon.