OF course I know how lucky I am, for the most part. My life is good, mostly I am able to do the work that compels me, Tha intriguing me and challenge me, even if I increasingly have a difficult time finding publishers willing to take the finished manuscripts and turn them into books, (Which makes me so grateful for them when they do. Mona Fertig, I’m talking about you!)
And I am lucky to have both the opportunity to travel as well as a congenial partner to go places with, even if I do have to lug my own case up the train steps.
Today, for instance. We left Carcassonne by train and arrived in Toulouse in brilliant sunshine. We had lunch on this little square —
— pave of tuna with an aoili, followed by pears poached in vie de marcillac. When we checked into our hotel, the man suggested we might like to be upgraded for a very modest amount. (We’d done our usual thing, choosing a modest room using one of the last-minute online sites. And modest usually does mean modest: tiny shower, a few hangers for clothes, maybe a chair.) So here we are in a grand room, I’ve just had a long soak in the h-u-g-e tub (with the Ombra travel bubbles I always have in my case, and after a nap in a very comfy bed to head off the beginnings of a cold, we’re going to hear the Orchestra de Chambre de Toulouse in a concet of Schumann at thIs church: