I'm suffering from some sort of writer's arm....or texting arm....or carrying-too-many-sacks-plus-a-far-too-heavy-purse arm. More than likely a mixture of all of the above. All I know is it hurts and it really aggravates it when I write. I've been told my chair is too low, which is true, and what I really need to do is buy myself a decent office chair.
It's just that my Provençal yellow, vide-grenier-find chair looks so pretty with my desk (anyone who knows me also knows my desk is never this neat and that there is a pile of assorted crap tossed on the couch for the snapping of this photo and will probably remain on the couch until I have to clean up for the next round of visitors). Thus, little writing will be done this week. And since I don't have a Monday Memory article for today, it's going to be picture time.
As in "What I did this past summer weekend in Provence".
Earlier in the spring, my friend Lynn and I bought tickets to Saturday's Chucho Valdes concert. I knew nothing about him, mostly because I'm a complete jazz imbecile, nor did I know where it was to be held. But Lynn is my esteemed ticket advisor and she hasn't gone wrong yet! I was delightfully surprised by both the musician and the milieu. Valdes is a world renowned, Cuban improvisational jazz pianist. An enormous man with an enormous sound and a kick-ass percussion section. The concert was held at the bucolic Chateau de Beaupré, which is just outside the village of St. Cannat near Aix en Provence. Aside from a cold mistral that kicked up and froze my bare shoulders in a permanent, protective shrug, it did not succeed in cooling off his smokin' fingers and the hot, latin riffs coming from the piano.
Check out the setting.
Sunday morning, the mistral blew itself out and the summer heat moved in quickly. I ended up going to Lac de St. Croix, near the Gorge du Verdon, in an attempt to cool off. It's about an hour north of here and though it is not the sea, it's turquoise expanse is thrilling to see...and even more thrilling to paddle around in and sooth the sizzle.
And since it's only a hop, skip and a jump away from Valensole, late afternoon was spent at the Lavender Festival. Oh boy...more PURPLE!
I'm sitting on pillows, my wrist in a splint, but my entire arm still hurts. So I'll save those photos for tomorrow. If you have any tendonitis advice, please send it my way.