If Mrs. Dalloway had a Glenn....

...instead of that useless bluestocking daughter of hers, things would have been very different at her party. First, she would not have had to get the flowers herself, and someone else would have carried them home (or their metaphorical stand-ins -- the dinner ingredients) from the Bedoin market, where I also bought (on Matthew's advice) more fabric than I think I need to recover the front porch cushions. Perhaps if the weather holds, we might even be able to christen them this fall.

From the Bedoin market we went to Vaison to tackle the prickly cheese lady, but her shop was, alas, closed. We wandered around the medieval town (very lovely with a nice photo exhibit on the walls but a bit touristy), and then had a little steak-frites at the Blueberry before going home to deal with some prep for today's dinner. The prep can be a bit daunting at the house because the knives are quite dull, but the resourceful Glenn (channeling a memory of his mother conflated with some episode of Yan Can Cook he saw as an adolescent) sharpened them on the rough porcelain bottom of a coffee mug. My hero!

We had a nice little dinner of a composed salad (by Glenn) and a pumpkin risotto and a pork cutlet I sawed off the big chunk of pork I am making into a daube for this evening.

Today I had some coffee and read a bit of House of Wits (about Henry James family) whilst waiting for the bathroom, which looked and smelled surprisingly clean. When I emerged from the shower I heard the vacuum cleaner, and by the time I got downstairs all the rugs were outside, the chairs were on the table and Glenn was mopping the floor. All this before 9:30 am! At that point we set off on a little ride to Mollans-sur-Ouveze for a coffee at our favourite stop and some pastry from the good bakery there, but it was a bit heavy today, due I think to a spell of humid (but thankfully cooler) weather. That town has everything -- a butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker (and an excellent news agent, butcher, bar and at least two restaurants). And there are several properties for sale and a bus service to Valreas and Valence.....

After coffee we carried on to Mirabel aux Baronnies, mostly on cycling lanes as the Drome region is very friendly to les velos, and then through Villedieu and to Vaison where, following the intrepid Glenn we managed to navigate a number of smallish roads and parking lots signed as closed to all but riverains (residents) and not get caught up in any of the traffic mayhem usually associated with the market. We had some pizza from the excellent bakery and bought some olive fougasse for dinner (which Glenn carried home in the bib of his shorts). I also ventured into the cheese shop and immediately got the upper hand by pointing out that they were closed yesterday (when they normally would have been open). Things went much better after that and I bought a brique de brebis (rind-washed but relatively fresh and mild sheep's milk cheese).

Once home I prepared the soup for this evening (fresh tomato which will be garnished with a little dollop of fresh goat cheese and some black olive puree) and Glenn cleaned and tuned the bikes and then packed his up (sob!). At this point, I made a tactical error and went clad in bike lycra and flip-flops to pick blackberries for dinner from the roadside bushes. I look like the crazed owner of a whole litter of fresh kittens. At one point I was caught front and back by brambles and when I finally managed to extricate myself there was blood dripping down my shin.