Chevalier from Hunedoara

Hunedoara, Romania: an old castle of middle age, that of Mathias, the biggest Hungarian kings grand father and father, under the Carpathian mountains.

Every year there is a festivity and last fall we were invited as our town is twin with this one. A city needing a renewal, as the huge factory they build too near the castle are now closed.

Argenteuil has a medieval fest every spring and at that occasion the Chevaliers of Hunedoara were invited to show their knowledge. I'll have to help them, translate. Between them are Hungarians and Romanians but as most young, they speak more English then French. They arrive Friday in our town;

in the window light

Just playing with different software to change a bit the pictures, already experiments themselves.

I took the almost finished rose and tulip from my garden, put it in a vase and took photos of them from every angle and in different places.

Yesterday, I looked back at those pictures (the flowers died long time ago) and put them first in Picassa to make some changes and mosaic from them, then in Digimax to change frames and even texture.

I kind of liked those colors, more then real photos made from them for example. Such a joy, experimenting, anyway!

French or Hungarian?

I have been living in France for the last 45 years and I think in French, speak and write in French, even in my journal.

But in my heart, somewhere deep, I remained still Hungarian.

My culture, the one of my youth, was Hungarian: that remains is us, wherever we go, as much as we distance ourselves from our roots.

Tulips represent "Hungary" for me also, as the red, white and green colours, and the songs and poems of my youth are never forgotten, even it takes years I have no occasion to speak that language.

I feel "central European" and "European" in short. In old times, people did travel and did live in different countries, or from necessity or to discover more, enriching each others cultures. I hope, we'll begin again more and more!

Braderie d'Argenteuil

My busy weekends begun with 12 hours on the flea market, selling for the first time in my life at such a place.

Beside this kind of smiles, that still warm my heart, I also got read of most of my french books, those of course only that I did not want to take with me.

Two women, avid readers, trying to negotiate for a better price gave me the idea: instead of 2 for 1 euros, I offered from then on 9 for 3. Pleasure for those who could choose so many and pleasure for me to see them diminishing fairly fast.

We had three showers, but happilly my daughter in law thought beforehand of that and we and the books were under cover, othervise sunny and interesting day.

Met and spoked with lots of people and some even recognised "julie70" from the blog having published their images! Some more? Of course, with pleasure!

The pleasure was mutual.

Saturday at flea market

I love to stroll in a flea market, but this is the first time I'll go to sell, to offer lots of my french books for whoever comes to look at them.

I hope, I'll not come back with most of them.

It will be a long day: it begins to install at 6 in the morning and folds at 6 in the evening.

Will be what will be.

But still, I'd like already to be Sunday.

Already raining

The rain begun but the sun was not yet gone: I could not depict with my photo as I have seen it: the colours were magnificent and if the sun can be perceived the rain drops, in this pictures made from my window not.

Later, it poured and there was no trace of sun any more.

But the rain stopped in an hour, it did not last long time.

As someone arrived yesterday to evaluate the volume to be shipped from here to London, I begun to realise that we will really move - at least my son with his family will. Yes, and me too.

Will I really? I can't "see" it yet. They move in less then six week now, and I dread the future for the moment instead of being happy about it as I was a while ago. Going away, going toward unknown is not so easy finally.

Everyday life goes on

Everyday scene in Paris, I wonder if it is not also becoming more and more in London too.

Stil not able to imagine myself going to London and living there, but my son's family will move at the end of June.

And me?

I know but not feel it yet!

Also, most of my books are now sorted: I want those, I do not the others. And saturday we'll be present to sell any french book from the "no more wanted" list in a flee market.

So steps are taken: why do I not feel like it will really happen?