My Life in the P-O – Twenty Years On: Episode 3
It’s mid January and heavy rain and snow have been predicted from yesterday and for the rest of the week. In fact, the Indépendent talks of ‘six mois de pluie en quelques jours’ and ‘des chutes de neige apocalyptiques avec 2 mètres de neige en quelques jours’. How exciting! Apocalyptic eh? Sounds just a little bit over-the-top to me for this region. Hope I don’t end up eating my words. So far we have had a steady, on and off drizzle which has hardly even prevented Poppet from donning her raincoat and venturing out – and she is a fussy little madam where wet paws are concerned.
An interesting entry from My Life in the P-O, late January, from 15 years ago says
“Wow, this is absolutely fantastic! The whole world has gone white! I have never seen snow like this in England – it just keeps on coming down. In fact, the last time I saw snow falling as relentlessly as this was in Quebec on a school ski trip many years ago. Over there, life continued as if nothing was happening: snow ploughs quickly cleared the main roads, creating two to three metre walls of snow on the pavements so that it was like walking through a snow tunnel – but traffic continued as normal and people went about their daily life. Here, life seemed to have come to a total halt. There is no traffic on the roads (which have NOT been cleared at all in Maureillas) and the postman didn’t even attempt to come along our road this morning. In fact, there is nobody around at all. Soooooo quiet. Branches are snapping off trees with the weight of the snow and the telephone and electricity lines are loaded and straining worryingly under the burden. It’s beautiful and very eerily exciting but I might well change my mind if our electricity fails and we have no heating or cooking facilities!”
The Canigou is hidden by thick white cloud and the Albères mountains are no longer visible through the white out. The mimosa, which was turning yellow and bringing a touch of Springtime to the P-O, has been taken totally by surprise, and peers with shock and disbelief from under its white wooly bonnet. Beautiful. Cold. I think it’s time for a cup of tea.
And while we’re on the subject of mimosa, did you know that the delicate, powdery scent is often blended with other floral odours such as rose and jasmine in the perfume industry and the leaves are sometimes used in Indian chutney, and tea to relieve toothache? What’s more (yes, there is more 🙂 the bark is known in China as the “Collective Happiness Bark,” and was given to people who needed a “spiritual uplift or cleansing.” and also used to cleanse the heart and liver meridians (energetic pathways) in the body.
So get out there when the rain stops (if it actually starts – we’ll let you know) and immerse yourself in mimosa – unless you have hay fever, in which case keep well away from it!
it has now been raining for 40 days and 40 nights – well, at least 2 (It’s a woman’s prerogative to exaggerate innit?) and we’re missing that uplifting, healing light that keeps a spring in your step and a smile on your face. However, every nuage has a silver lining and mine is definitely Pancake Day!
The 2nd February is fast approaching. So what you say? Well, this is La Chandeleur, also known as ‘Fête de la Lumière’, or ‘jour des crêpes’. Celebrated every year on 2 February, French traditions demands that we eat crêpes….and I just happen to have a husband who likes making pancakes on rainy days so I could be looking at double portions!
La Chandeleur has surprisingly ancient roots. Long before Christianity, Roman festivals of light were held at this time of year, marking the gradual return of longer days after winter. The Church later adopted the date to commemorate the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple, forty days after Christmas—officially bringing the Christmas season to an end.
As with many old rural festivals, La Chandeleur is rich in sayings and superstitions. Here’s one proverb that is a little worrying for Wee Willie Winkie and all those who enjoy wandering round with lighted candles (in or out of their nightgowns).
Celui qui la rapporte chez lui allumée, pour sûr ne mourra pas dans l’année.
Basically, if you get home (from the church, the pub, the dog grooming salon) without letting the flame go out on your candle, you are guaranteed not to die in the coming year. But what if it’s a Tramontane day?
So get tossing…and may your candle always burn brightly.
Join me next week for another ramble? Hope so. Xx
