I'm trying hard to learn French at the local university - to satisfy a fond wish to share a conversation in a French cafe with an actual French person. However, since I'm a rather old dog to be learning new tricks I fear that the verb endings might kill me before I get back to Paris. To mitigate this possibility, I retreat to a teashop with some book or another and pretend. One of my favorite places is The Turquoise Teapot. It is as close to an authentic English tea shop as one can get in northern New Mexico and doubles as a nursery and flower shop - and in my imagination serves as that elusive French cafe across the street from the used booksellers along the Seine. I have also been known to bring along a half-knitted sock to work on between bites of scones or cake. And speaking of socks...
Here, as promised, is the photo of the socks I completed during my friend's illness - the eighth pair is missing because I gave them away. They were all knitted during many snowy winter days, tentative pale spring sun, Taos mud days, and often with three dogs at my feet (including a Dalmation who resembles the pair in the middle). This colorful group of seven haven't been blocked yet; just resting in a nice lavender-scented box. No doubt, when the female members of my family visit in summer they will raid the sockbox and head back east with their haul.
Spring reappears today - chilly blue and green and the inevitable wind. Weather predictions are dire for later in the week (snow showers and 60 mile an hour wind gusts!) - but if I've learned anything in recent months it's to live one day at a time.
Lorraine
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