TIME OF OUR LIVES

January 2 2014This morning I ran errands in the village, stopping first at the boulangerie to make sure I nabbed a baguette before they were all gone. What joy to enter the little shop and be greeted not only by the intoxicating perfume of butter and yeast, but also by the smiles and salutations from the bakers and half a dozen villagers, all lined up for the day’s goodies.Then, down the street to the Post Office and the Tabac; everywhere a Bon Annee and Bon Sante, the streets moist from an early rain, the Christmas trees outside every shop a little bedraggled, not that they were ever stunning, the way they are in New York or Paris. Here, they are, for my money, even better as there is a laissez-faire attitude toward tree decorating that pretty much entails taking a handful of tinsel and baubles, flinging them at the tree, possibly simultaneously, and whatever sticks, sticks. There’s something very refreshing about the lack of ostentatious decoration, especially as the true spirit of Christmas, giving, is so abundant here. And of course, here, food is perhaps the greatest gift.So, it should be no surprise that our friend Roland, having told me that the traditional Luberon Christmas breakfast is scrambled eggs with shaved truffle, should knock on our door on Christmas Eve with what I at first thought was generous lump of hashish but which turned out to be an even more generous lump of truffe.Our Christmas was made unexpectedly joyous by the surprise visit of two dear friends from London, who arrived with champagne, chocolates and a huge crate of lychees. Together we enjoyed a five-course dinner here at the house and the next day our niece, Gabrielle arrived for a two day visit, bringing golden candles and poetry. And so the festivities unfolded, with sumptuous foods purchased at the outdoor markets and local traiteurs: chicken thighs and fois gras, olives and butternut squash, black radishes, salmon, salad greens, sardines, tart tatin, buche de noel, artisanal ice-creams, hand-made chocolates, raspberry tarts, oysters, snails, chestnuts, walnuts, clementines, dates and a brie stuffed with truffle that just about sent us over the top. Some of the above we worked off with a 5 mile hike with our dear friends Paul and Sharon, the rest we metabolized on New Year’s Eve when, after a dinner with Tara and Stephane…the table lit with Gabrielle’s gold candles…we rolled back the rug and danced the new year in.You bet it’s going to be hard to leave here on Sunday. This morning, doing the rounds in the village, watching the clouds descend over the Luberon Crest, hearing the church bells, and all those greetings from the villagers, I felt woven into the fabric of life here, much the way we feel in Tuscany. But New York City calls, and we answer, Yes, we’re coming. The calendar for January is filled with the names of family and friends, with theatre dates and an Aretha Franklin concert. A realtor is coming next week to appraise the apartment, the first step toward re-inventing life in NY.The farmers, Vincenzo and Silvia, send photos of the travertine that will surround our new bathtub. The copper chimney for the fireplace has been ordered. Two weeks ago, at an antique market, we found our ancient Soumak rug for what will be the living area in front of the new fireplace in Tuscany.And so, like all of you, we are hurtling through space, having begun yet another revolution around the sun. A heavy shower has passed and the sun is showing its face; a perfect moment for a walk, to meditate, to be grateful for this day.With love and best wishes for 2014, from both of us, to all of you.