Life on Pause

Le Moulin à Barbâtre, à la nuit tombante

I apologize once again for my unexplained absence, but this time around, I do have a good excuse: I was on vacation, and I simply didn't manage to squeeze in a moment to explain that directly here on my blog before departing. Although I figured the message was pretty clear with my previous "Vacation Reading" post... (Read between the lines?)

I left for Noirmoutier, an island off the Atlantic Coast of France, in the Vendée region, three weeks ago today. I actually returned to the office on Monday, but I've been digging my way through personal and professional e-mails, as well as countless blog postings on my Bloglines account -- I sincerely doubt I will ever catch up with all of those! -- since fumbling into the office a bit dazed and still stuck in my vacation haze. Blogging friends, please forgive my dilatory attitude... Three weeks away will certainly transform your approach to things, make it all seem less important, less urgent and perhaps near-unnecessary. My brother even sent me a few reproachful messages, wondering when I was ever going to return to my regular ol' daily existence and resume the grind that we are all used to plugging through year-round. (He lives in America, after all, and isn't used to any extended absences from the office -- I honestly don't know what I would do without these breaks from time to time at this point in my life.) I had told him about my blog months ago, though, and strangely enough he hadn't popped in to visit for a while, so he could hardly scold me!

I plan on resuming my "regular" blogging habits from here on out, although you could hardly call me the most consistent blogger -- I'm well aware of that. But I've made progress from time to time; it just has yet to become consistent progress.

All that time away, of course, was calming and relaxing -- I can't remember the last time I turned off my "thought process", my anxiety-ridden brain, for such an extended period -- and I obviously didn't have access to a computer or to an Internet connection. At first I wondered if this would bother me, but then I realized that I had always survived just fine without it before, and that in fact before the early 21st century, I was far from a fan of anything computer-related. It took me at least a few years to get the knack of things and to even acquire any fair interest in the virtual world. There are still a lot of things out there that baffle me, and how I wish I could improve my own graphic skills so I could jazz up this here blog of mine, but that will simply have to wait until the moment propice.

But there is definitely something to be said for escapism, running off to a fairly secluded place and spending an extended amount of time in completely different surroundings. Even though the weather was not all that great for, um, I would have to say about 13 of my 18 days away, I was still able to immerse myself in a whole new life and pretend like my life back "home" didn't exist -- put it all in parentheses, if you will. I did read quite a bit, but not nearly as much as I had hoped, and I have to admit that I was more than ambitious in my hope to complete seven entire novels while away. Of course, I guess I didn't take into account the fact that there would be three small boys running around me for a good part of my vacation, and also that we would be spending many meals with extended family members... Which I thoroughly enjoyed, because for the most part I love all of my boy's family. (Um, was that a contradiction of sorts? Let's just say I'm being politically correct here...) But family meals always lead to family memories and family quibbles -- and you get where I'm going with this, so I think I'll stop right there.

My choices of reading in the end were a bit arbitrary and depended on my mood, which should come as no surprise, but I did at least require myself to alternate between French and English. I can highly recommend Muriel Barbery's L'élégance du hérisson, of course, although I had a hard time getting into the first 10 pages or so (a bit heavy and dense from the get-go, but then it settles into a certain sublime style, and it's irresistible). Once you're into it, though, you're in it for good. It's a beauty, and I believe it's a novel that will stay with me for some time. I stretched out the last 20 pages or so because I didn't want it to end...

I'm actually working on Sarah Waters right now, but again, I haven't quite gotten into the story yet. Granted, I've hardly finished the first chapter, so I know I may need to be a bit patient. But I won't neglect my reading list, trust me: it will just take me a bit longer than expected to make it through the pile...

In the meantime, I leave you with some of my images of Noirmoutier, personal shots that are the furthest thing from touristic -- because in fact I didn't end up doing very much tourism. We stayed close to the "vacation" home and only ventured out to the beach when the weather was fine, which wasn't all that often. I was fascinated with the moulin, as you can see in the number of photos where the windmill stands as the sole subject, as well as the lavender branches near the house. It was all very sauvage and rustique, and I loved every minute of it.

P.S. You'll note the distinct absence of any photos of myself -- that's what happens, I guess, when you keep the camera under wraps and only whip it out when inspiration strikes. There were times when I realized, when it was clearly too late, that "Wow, maybe I should have taken a photo of that?!" (And in any case, anything else I left at arm's length was grabbed by 3-year-old hands and abused, so I believe I may have for once used good judgment with regard to burying my personal effects...)