The Incredible Story of One Lucky Mitten

After the farmer's market this morning, I headed north on my bike to stock up on staples that don't grow from the ground here like maple syrup, muesli, and oat milk.  Once inside Auchan (European Walmart equivalent that normally makes me think deeply about the Russian anarchist group Voina, but that's a different talk show...) I noticed that one of my new gloves was missing!  I immediately retraced my steps back to the bike rack, but turned up nothing.

After coffee and shopping I retraced my bike route home scouring the ground for one bright green mitten.  Turning around the second time, I started hearing my boss at SweetWARE in the back of my head quoting Einstein "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."  I'm having visions of Tom Robbins' Skinny Legs and All, my bright green mitten bravely striking out on it's own and making it's way in the world with other escaped inanimate objects.  This was craziness, and I loved these gloves so much...  I was determined to reunite this perfect pair.

Flash forward three hours, I'm walking and looking.  After no more than fifteen minutes of walking up the street like a crazy person with one glove on (which apparently is the international sign language for "I've lost a glove")  I hear a woman from across the street yell "Madame!"  Yeah?  She's sitting at the bus stop about to catch a bus going the opposite direction.  You will not believe this.  She goes, "Have you lost a glove?"  I reply, "Why yes, I have!"  What a coincidence!  I cross the street and she explains that she picked up my other glove on the bike path a few hours ago and took it home.  She happens to live nearby and can get it for me and it will only take a second...  We walk together for a minute (I'm feeling much less crazy by now) and I agree to wait on a bench outside the entryway to her building.

A few minutes later, an old woman wearing kinda outlandish jewelry and a disheveled hair cut cops a squat next to me and almost sets her scarf on fire lighting her cigarette.  She asks me if I'm visiting someone here.  I tell her I'm waiting for someone.  Not much time passes before I see two people in scrubs leaving the building, which is when I ask the woman next to me if this is a hospital.  She says, "YES, this is a psychiatric hospital."  Uhhh...  The crazy is starting to creep back.  Haha!  Now, I'm sitting here wondering if this lady is going to come back with a rubber ducky declaring "Here's your glove back!" ...or just forget about me entirely.  Wrong on both counts.  Wonderful woman #1 restores peace to my universe and I walk home (so overjoyed) with two warm hands.

Slowly Into Winter

This morning, like every Wednesday morning, I rode down to the Les Halles Farmer's Market.  Most of the leaves are fallen now.  The bare trees revealed a low haze over the Loire river valley, rendering the morning sunlight cold and wintry.  Since we've been working on blocking this week and I don't have gloves, my Wednesday morning ride turned into a (much needed!) cold air ice bath for my hands and fingers.  Haha!

I'm getting to know my way around here pretty well and now I can't even remember the last time I was lost.  I'm also finally building up a rapport with the local farmer's market merchants.  They recognize me now and greet me with a more familiar generosity in their eyes.  Today, two of my favorite people - mushroom lady and artisan tomato man - weren't there and I almost cried because I look forward to our exchanges so much.  I've become quite appreciative of their tiny acts of kindness and their willingness to engage a lonely stranger.

All romance aside, though, the farmer's market is just a great place to practice my french and increase my food vocabulary.  I've become quite adventurous lately, asking random people questions about the different vegetables and their favorite preparations.  For example, just today I took a chance and bought a quarter of a huge warty looking pumpkin with instructions that involve peeling, boiling, draining, and mashing with milk, cinnamon, and sugar.  Doesn't that sound delicious?!?

Disney Was Right... It's A Small World!

Yesterday, I was walking down the wrong aisle in the grocery store looking for bar soap and some people passed by casually speaking English.  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around as quickly as I could and just shouted at them "Are you American?!?" like any sane, but slightly lonely and desperate person might.  The couple was Canadian.  Oops?  They were collecting a lost-luggage-esque assortment of items along with an American woman who lives here in Tours.  When I told her I was here playing volleyball, she told me that she met Kelli Smith (THE marathon winning, ass-kicking wife of TVB star middle blocker David Smith) at this very same supermarket under the exact same circumstances (ie totally randomly).  It's a small world after all  ...and it was about to get even smaller.  After chatting for barely five minutes we discovered that we were both invited to the same Thanksgiving dinner.  What?!?  After we picked up the parts of our exploded heads, we said our goodbyes and I found the bar soap at the end of the aerosol deodorant aisle.

I hope you are all looking forward to Thanksgiving.  I know I am!  :)