Fits of Sleep and Odd Churchness

Last night we spent some time with one of the editors of make/shift magazine and her husband, which was really nice. We had apero on the terrace, then whilst The Frenchman worked I went to dinner with the two of them in town, taking a taxi back around midnight. She gave me a copy of Issue #1 — a rarity as it’s already sold out. I was ever so grateful, as it will infinitely improve my understanding of what they’re looking for.

Today, just…madness. I’m underslept, having woken up several times last night. The Frenchman believes — and we’re checking on this — that the same Express Mail service in the U.S. that allowed me to mail my sword here for around $30 bucks doesn’t exist here and that I’m going to pay something hideous to get the sword back if I want to track the package. I’m freaking out because it’s not just the sword, but also my utterly gorgeous repaired umbrella from Simone. The umbrella fits in my suitcase sort of, but that’s how it got broken in the first place and I don’t want to repeat that. Hopefully he’s wrong and I can get some kind of tracking service on the package, even if the package doesn’t get back to the U.S. in less than a week.

In better news, we went to Moustiers yesterday with friends. It’s by far the prettiest village in Provence, complete with a lovely medieval church at the top of a steep hill. People believed that their unbaptized infants who died went automatically to Hell, but that if they brought the dead infant to this particular church, it would come back to life for two minutes, allowing the priest to baptize it. I am not making this up. I can’t believe the forehead-slapping stuff that religion drives people to do. I deeply regret forgetting my camera, as the sights were so beautiful. We drove past the famous lavender fields of Provence, spotting the L’Occitane factory nearby. One of our friends grew up there and worked the lavender fields when he was young, so he took us into a field and picked some lavender for us. I just hope I can get it past customs…

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