All Saints Day Holiday

Beyond the cite walls you can see the vineyards and farms

 

Today is a holiday and the town is quiet.  There are a very few restaurants open and I saw only one open bakery.  I decided to go to the cemetery and wander through, looking at all the chrysanthemums.  I was very impressed by the number of people I found in Saint Michel's cemetery.  My jaunt there took me to a new neighborhood, and this time, I did take the street map.  The area is a maze of tiny, twisty streets and it would be easy to get turned around.  The street maps unfortunately don't show the straight up hill that led from where I was to the cemetery. All the stair-climbing that I have been doing made it possible, but I was  panting when I reached the top.  It was long, and it was steep, but it's behind me now. 

Inside Saint Michel's cemetery

It was the day for chrysanthemums

I wandered through the allees of the cemetery, reflecting upon how seriously the French, or maybe the French Catholics take their obligation to maintain the family tombs.  Although this particular cemetery isn't THAT old--some of the families have been living here for 800 years, and I don't know where their family tombs are--I saw that some people in Saint Michel's were born in the 1860's.  This population doesn't seem to roam, like we move about in the US. I especially liked two things:  they inscribe the maiden name of the wives, and I liked the photos that people have transferred on to what looked like ceramic or enameled plaques.  My wanderings provoked a lot of thought about family and roots.

Reunited for eternity. I hope it was a happy marriage.

This guy was quite the rugby player, it seems. Handsome, too.

It makes me remember that here was a person with likes and dislikes, hopes and beliefs. Not just a collection of names and dates.

 

I was drawn to the sound of a drum and trumpet. Representatives of the mayor's office and representatives of the branches of the French military were placing flowers in the military section of the cemetery.  It was quite moving. Each grave had been bedecked with a pot of chrysanthemums and a small French flag. Most of the men whose names I read died in World War I.  There were some who had the legend, "Mort pour la France."  Died for France.  Others, without the legend, just died, I guess.  There were lots of names that looked to be Vietnamese or Cambodian who died in the 30's.  What the hell was going on with the French military then? It's another example of things I don't know. 

This was very beautiful--simple and elegant and moving.

Edouard died for France.

I noticed that these headstones were segregated.  Then I realized that they were Muslim names.

I have very mixed feelings about this statue.

Everyone in the place was dressed up.  I felt a little out of place wearing jeans.  The men had on their military uniforms if they were part of the ceremony, or suits and ties if they weren't. The women were in dresses with stockings and pumps. That prompted some more thought about dress and respect.

Just an aside--I haven't seen one person here wearing pajamas and bedroom slippers in public.  How refreshing. The Aude department (like a big county) is the second poorest in the country.  And I have seen some poor sections of town.  But nobody in pajamas. 

I noticed a number of cats and I came upon a lady feeding them. I spoke and we struck up a conversation.  She informed me that these were sauvages--wild, but within a week they had learned that her presence could be tolerated, because she brought food.  The lady's name is Claude and we talked for quite a while.  She helped me with my language and informed me that if I wanted anyone to know where I lived, I should stop telling them that I lived in the Bastide--I live in centre ville.  She was late getting there today with the food and the cats were quite put out with her. 

Claude's charges.

I saw some chrysanthemums that I have never seen before.  I love these great big yellow mums, but they were very expensive.  The other colors were striking. The cemetery provides watering cans at taps located throughout the place. Some tombs have permanent plantings, some have artificial flowers. 

These yellow ones look like little suns.

Purple/white combination--very interesting.

These were sort of a bronze/red combination. My camera isn't always true to color.

Watering can and tap

I stopped at the open boulangerie and bought a baguette.  I am having soup and a salad for dinner, so that will be the perfect accompaniment. On the way home, I passed two old geezers sitting on a bench.  One spoke out to me, noting the baguette and saying, "Yum, yum."  His tone of voice, however, made it clear that he was NOT referring to the baguette.  I didn't know whether to laugh or smack him with the bread.  I chose to laugh and moved on.  French men!  Incorrigible!

All those flowers made me have to stop at the florist and get a little bundle of gerbera daisies for my house.  They are cheerful and make me smile.

I have lots of photos to share.  Forgive me if I save the writing for another project I am working on.

Along my walk today.

Pretty colors cling to the side of this house.

Apparently this jack-o-lantern was in jail.