More Photos of Saint Vincent and Wounded Wicker Man

The floodwaters broke his arm, but his heart is intact.

The rain has stopped, at least for a little while.  The Aude has gone down somewhat, but my wicker man has a broken arm, I guess the force of the rushing water was too much for him.  There was a patch of blue sky this morning on the way to church and some sunshine in the window this afternoon--perfect for writing.

He was underwater yesterday

Today's paper has photos of yesterday's festivities; the article's caption reads that Prosper Montagne could be proud of the goings-on.  I think that's true.  I did not go out to the little town for all the truffle celebrations today, but I am very anxious to get to watch the cooking competition tomorrow.  I have yet to learn the time and place, but I will get the answer either in tomorrow's paper or I will take myself off to the city tourist office and get the scoop.  I hope they let the public come and watch; according to reports, they've invited chefs from all over the globe.

The Hunting Horn choir from the front.   How elegant they were.

In Limoux, the world's oldest and longest Carnaval celebration has begun.  The millers are in charge this year, and their photo appeared in the paper today.  They were all decked out in their white jackets, red kerchiefs, and great masks.  When my company gets here, we shall make it a point to go out there and join in the merriment. I do happen to know where there is a mask store, if we need to wear masks.

The theater troupe presented a concept "piece"  offering food items.

I played the hymns again in church this morning.  There were all of 19 of us present, and the service was lovely.  They are so desperate, if they ask ME to play.  They had a guest violinist, who also played the hymns, so we had sort of actual music this morning.  I am learning all these new hymns, but I can't play and sing in French at the same time.  It's just too hard.  They have invited me to a dinner on March 9--for "new" people.  And there is one sweet, sweet man, in his 80's at the very least, who's nearly stone deaf and who comes up and talks a blue streak to me every Sunday, and I have not one clue as to what he is saying.  I did get today that he plays the drum (or used to)....his grandfather, who hailed from Narbonne was a musician, but his three sons (one of whom was this man's father) were all painters.  I think it might be very hard to leave these people come April--they have all been so wonderful.  Even the German lady who shushed me and I are becoming friends.  

Fruits, especially from the vine

A big cake

All manner of gourmand offerings

They lined up "at the table" with their bowls

And then they threw cream at each other

Sat down and reclined  "at table"

And then crawled under the tablecloth.  We all clapped!