Our hardy in-laws certainly endured their fair share of country creatures during their stay. One night they had a bat making circles over their bed. A day later, a baby scorpion appeared in their bath tub. Peter and I have been fighting off the mosquitos, who have discovered a new delicacy...American Baby Flesh. My mother is mounting her own personal war against the ants. But there is one bug that the French would never want to exterminate - the Cigale. It is a large, striped beetle that makes a distinctive noise. Smart little insect, it only sings when the weather is nice and warm. And so it defines summer for many locals, including my parents. People hang little "Cigale" sculptures on the outside of their houses and it is even is depicted on those quintessential southern French tablecloths. Now how many bugs can brag about that kind of cult adoration?
Personally I am more fond of a different kind of resident of Clermont L'Herault, also recently discovered. The dashing male octogenarian. There are some fabulous role models here for living well after 80. One man hangs out in the local cafe, acting as a sort of social mayor, greeting all who enter. He is always dressed to the nines, carries a beautifully carved wooden walking stick, and charmed me immediately by admiring Peter and calling him a little "poulet" (chicken).
My favorite by far though, is my parents' neighbor. We were recently invited to their house for "aperatifs" (supposedly before-dinner drinks and appetizers, but I seem to have enjoyed a full-blown meal every time I've been invited). He appeared wearing an ascot, and pulling it off *beautifully*. He then proceeded to give us a tour of the garden that he has been tending since 1970. It takes up 4 or 5 terraced plots. You cannot imagine the incredible bounty. Rumor has it he spends four hours every morning working in the garden - in the nude. He and his equally fabulous wife should be an inspiration to any married couple. They sing together as they work, and still hold hands after who knows how many years of being married.
Spending a month here has given me great insight into the French lifestyle and why my parents love it so much. So much, that not even a GRANDSON can convince them to leave! Last night we attended an art opening for one of their English friends. I met so many interesting expatriates from such a wide variety of backgrounds and livelihoods. This morning my father and I rode bicycles through the vineyards and several charming villages. There are a hundred different routes of rolling hills and pleasant scenery to choose from. We cooled off by jumping in the pool, and then visited the neighbors across the street for aperatifs, which consisted of no fewer than FOUR homemade tarts plus other snacks and THREE home made desserts. All created before lunch. The cafe society is lovely - if my parents are ever feeling a bit social, they just walk down to the cafe for a cup of coffee, and run into at least three different friends who all just seem to be wandering by. So there is all this intellectual, physical, and social stimulation, and I haven't even started to describe the food and wine. All this at a nice slow pace. Nothing is rushed. Everything is enjoyed. Why would they ever want to leave?
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