The Days Of Our Lives

Reaching for a bottle of balsamic vinegar in the supermarket yesterday, I decided to go with the smaller bottle. Not for economy’s sake but in the belief that I can control my future by adapting the container sizes: if a large bottle takes up to eight months to finish, isn’t there a chance we might have to throw it out when it comes time to move? Can always buy another bottle if we’re still here.

It’s a life of more uncertainty than usual right now as people come and look at the house. The more viewers we can get, the better – somebody is bound to want this place. But it does make it hard to know how to plan anything involving travel, or being in a certain place at a certain time.

Friday we crossed one hurdle by getting Eric’s visa petition into the US Embassy in Paris. Pulling all the paperwork together, getting the correct very specific photos, showing up during the one hour they were accepting them this month…we had to restrain ourselves from doing a buck and wing and raising the roof in the waiting area when they called us back in and said they had everything they needed for now. It was pretty cute when Eric asked the guy didn’t they want to quiz us on our favorite films and record albums (we’d agreed in advance that “Who’s Next” was an acceptable answer).

It was perfect timing that Kid Congo Powers and The Pink Monkeybirds were playing in the city the night before – it was great getting a chance to go out and see a sharp band play. So much fun, soul and charisma from Kid and his men. The audience was a laugh too, like central casting had gotten a call “we need a rock audience!” and sent out an assortment of types: skinny goth girls, shirtless guys who do that thing where you raise your arm and shake your hand in the air while holding out thumb and forefinger, lots of men with ponytails, pouting French Lolitas, pinstripe-jacketed rockers with tight black jeans and perfect shag haircuts, your classic Paris guy in white shirt, cashmere v-neck sweater and haughty expression and inexplicably a man in white puffy shirt and heavy brown leather jerkin and knee breeches – either an aspiring New Romantic revivalist or chateau tour guide off hours.

We liked it so much we drove a few hours to see them again in La Rochelle Saturday night. I forget how inspiring it is to see and hear someone really good play live – that’s something I know is missing from my life out in rural France. Got up the next morning dying to play guitar, write and record. And there was another person coming to look at the house.

Like sand through an hour glass so goes the Modena balsamic vinegar…

9 thoughts on “The Days Of Our Lives

  1. Anonymous

    Wow, I just realized I've been printing,saving, and urging upon hapless others, this blog SINCE YOU BEGAN IT. A boxfull. (And of course, I bought all the Cds, AND the songbook!) ANYHOWOW*** I just read LIFE, by Keef, and then jumped into STONED, by Andrew Loog Oldham–a very interesting harmony, more than counterpoint. Both are fascinating and well written, and ALO is BRUTALLY, though hilariously, honest about his own peccadilloes. (Not a basket of Texas anteaters, you guys…) Charley D2

  2. Rosie

    one day your prince will come…well, house buyer, I mean…and yes I miss the culture side of things to the bottom of my deprived soul

  3. Amy

    I'm happy to hear that Fly, I'll have to check in on your Costa Rican adventures.hi Charley – I've thought ALO's book looked good, now I know I have to read it. So it was you who bought the songbook ha ha! Definitely worth it – and when you bring the new album home you will definitely want to "turn it up".I hope so Rosie – there was a couple we were sure would put in an offer…they ended up going with something smaller. But it felt like a rejection after a date that you thought went really well and was going somewhere. And you think "did they say those same things to everyone, about how perfect it all was?"

  4. Papy Roule

    Amy – I've tried and failed to leave comments before, but I'll try again now … It's my cookies so they say.We are moving house also, though I hate to be in a crowd let alone a stampede, musically I feel entombed here as I don't play accordion – but hey maybe we could do a house swap, we're in Rochechouart, how do you fancy that?"We" are Rob (former loud guitar in Les Papys of Cussac) and Sue (you met at Pilates) – remember? you played "will we ever have sex again" at Chateau Brie pub a couple of years back on 4th July for us (our anniversary) …Anywayze – I expect you two will be sold and gone long before us, so good luck and hope to catch you sometime …..

  5. Amy

    hi Rob, I had seen a comment you and Sue left that was "waiting for moderation" and then it got buried somewhere, so I'm glad you wrote again. Drop me and Eric an email with your #, it would be nice to meet up and swap house-selling schemes (amy@amyrigby.com)!

  6. Will Birch

    Amy, your comment about the balsamic reminded me of that old wag's remark: 'my wife and I have been married so long we're on our second bottle of tabasco.'

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