To Market, to market...

 Last night the smoke alarm decided to begin chirping in the middle of the night.  Why do they never chirp in the middle of the day?  Is there some universal law that regulates the timing of the end of battery life?   A little after 1:30 in the morning I was climbing on the dining room chair to take the smoke detector from its spot in the ceiling and remove the battery to hush that cheerful little noise. I wasn't about to call Jason at that hour of the night--I am not helpless.  I e-mailed him this morning and he will bring a new battery tomorrow.  I offered to get one today if he would simply point me the the right direction. It's not something I am likely to find at the Place Carnot.

Went to the market this morning and my guilty pleasure purchase was a little slice of comte cheese.  What I know about cheese can be contained in one of the holes in a slice of Swiss, but I know comte. Yummy.  The vendor offered me my choice of how long it at been aged, from young to several years old.  I opted for something in the middle, although they were all wonderful.  It was meant to be, as I had breakfasted upon the last morsel of the first piece I bought when I arrived.  I also purchased some vegetables and a head of the most beautiful cauliflower I have ever seen.  The flower vendors are preparing the huge baskets of chrysanthemums that people will put in the cemeteries for All Saints. There's a rhythm here, and I am becoming a part of it.

Today was also a day of doppelganger-ism.  I kept seeing people who look exactly like people I know back in Brookings....Susan Kroker-Griffith and Gordy Myrah, of all people.  And I ran into one man at the market who was a dead ringer for the lost love of my life. Made me go weak in the knees.  Do you think I have stumbled into some sort of parallel universe?

Stopped at the best butcher shop in Carcassonne, which is four or five doors up the street from my apartment.  I always make it my last stop. I purchased the last two chicken thigh/drumstick combinations they had and chatted with the butcher about the new paint job on the exterior.  He grinned when I told him I liked it.  I think he was pleased that someone noticed.  It really does look great.

The rest of the day has been devoted to work.  I am going to shut my computer off for the evening and read.  It wasn't an exciting day, but it was a wonderful day nonetheless.

The boucherie's new paint job.