And now, I almost can’t go up the new road after dark, disoriented by the shifting radii of the curves, my brain fooled into thinking that there's a drop off into space immediately on the other side of the white line to the right, so I can’t tell where to pull over to let the cars piling up behind me pass.
Snow, mud or rock slides, ice, all call for closure of the old road, so when weather threatens, I hesitate to go down the hill. And darned if weather doesn’t seem to go bad disproportionately on Tuesdays, French-class night! On the Tuesday between Christmas and New Year I had already missed a Holiday Fondue Savoyarde party which welcomed one of our members back from the Peace Corps. Rain. A bunch. So not only was the old road likely to be closed, but visibility on our mountain roads would be lousy.
Tonight was the first class in the new year and we had two new students. Chantal, the prof, had made a Galette des Rois, a cake served in celebration of La Fête des Rois (Epiphany or Twelfth Night) in some regions of France. Tradition has it that a small child (le petit roi), hiding beneath the table, will distribute pieces of the cake to the guests. Whoever finds la fève -- a charm hidden inside -- is King or Queen and can choose a partner. Lacking a small child, Chantal, the youngest, distributed the yummy cake and declined to duck beneath the tables. One of our new students found la fève. He received la couronne (crown), but we didn't make him choose among the regal women present.
|Galette des Rois after the vultures|
See you tomorrow.