I got the philosophy off my chest first, now a few items from yesterday. For the sake of remembering it all.
There’s a little alpine coaster on the edge of the other end of town in a tiny amusement park. The kids wanted to go so we drove over there and bought them six rides to share. We’ve been here before, with smaller kids who rode the smaller rides. Remember Oscar and Leo playing on those bumper cars? We remember.
Then we headed back. Mark went to buy McDonald’s for the kids, who I guess were craving it, and I went to the grocery store for some dinner items. After we met back at the rental and I unloaded groceries, Mark and I slipped out for a quick lunch together. Crêpe for me (buckwheat, with spinach, emmenthal, cream, and an egg); omelette for Mark; draft Breton cider to share.
We picked up a baguette and I sent Mark back with it; he had an appointment to pick up a rental bike for Leo. I stayed in town and did a little shopping. I needed a hooded fleece jacket and a pair of new approach shoes.
Leo had fun riding the bike around town for a while. Then we got in the car and went to the anticipatory Mass to free up our Sunday morning. It’s all one parish here in the valley, the parish of St. Bernard (yes, that St. Bernard), but there is a church in each little town. Five p.m. Saturday was in Vallorcine, a twenty-five-minute drive away.
At Our Lady of the Assumption.
We could hear the bells as we walked up the hill—not church bells, but cow bells. Saw some belled cows up close in fact.
Inside, it was several degrees cooler, and I put on my sweater. Mass was simple and quite short, singing but with cantor only, no music. A good cantor, a well-made song sheet. Easy to follow along.
The priest was a clear speaker as well. I could skim the main points from the homily without much difficulty, even if I could not catch all the details. Money: it doesn’t make you smarter, it doesn’t make you kinder. It can hide spiritual malaise. Jesus was the friend to the poor, the sick, the prisoner, the exploited. We must ask ourselves: what should we do with our goods? Why do we have goods? We have those goods so that we can share them.
Simon was restless and whimpering on the hard pew (no kneelers; I saw no one kneel except for brief genuflections) so we slipped out a little early, right after Communion, for the sake of the folks around us, and settled him down outside in the sun on the porch before descending to our beast of a car.
I made an easy dinner. Pasta for the boys, with butter on the noodles and an optional tomato-basil sauce; blueberries and baguette. Simon adores buttered noodles and wouldn’t stop raving about what a great meal I’d made.
I don’t know what to tell you, kid. It’s the French butter doing all the work here.
For Mark and me I made, from memory, a stovetop-to-oven dish that’s especially tasty when you have good bread. You fry up sliced garlic in a generous amount of olive oil, then just before it burns stir in tomato paste (watch the spatter), a couple of cans’ worth of drained white beans, a bit of hot water (I used the kids’ pasta water), salt and pepper. Top with mozzarella cheese (any kind) and bake at 475°F till melty and bubbly. Scoop up with that good bread. Or whatever. Remember not to burn your mouth.
We also had some olives and a little pâté, and some dressed greens from a bag, and a bottle of Bordeaux.
MJ called us from lunchtime at college and we got to hear a little about how things were going, as we yawned in our pajamas. That was a good voice to hear and face to see, at the end of a good day. A Saturday for the books.
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