Thoughts provoked by an old house in need of renovation, its garden, a marriage lived within its walls, and of a retired Thoroughbred race horse named Fibs and Flannel.
Baccarat found it. Leave to her. It was not really very difficult, though. Not much of a hunt, nothing at all of a chase.
I returned from the gym and a stop at the grocery store -- eh, oui, il faut bien --, took the dogs out to pee and let Baccarat and Rapide free in the garden in the full sunshine. Spring is coming. Then, I went inside, opened the windows and the French door and set to getting my pot au feu simmering. I was just begining to peel the carrots, when I heard Baccarat start in with her deepest "woof!"
"Baccarat, tu te tais." I placed myself directly in front of her, still woof-woofing intensely, "TAIS TOI." She shifted around on her paws like an anxious three-year-old who needs to pee, her eyes darting from the mound of junk at the base of the linden tree to somewhere just to the side of me.
"Bacs, regarde-moi. Tu te tais. Sh!" She tried. She really did, but she looked about beside herself with worry. It occurred to me that there might be something; she wasn't looking fixedly out over the field below like she usually is when she gets to barking. An animal. I turned to look where she was, and I saw the big, beautiful marmalade cat with long hair, resting under the partial shelter of the fake leaded stained-glass window the workers had leaned up against the linden tree, alongside their stock of lumber. It looked back at me placidly. It didn't get up to run. It didn't tense. It gazed back at me, while Baccarat went crazy, hopping from paw to paw, trying to butt her head past me to get to the cat. Rapide wandered over to see what was up and went into maternal-mode with Baccarat.
My brain slowed way down. Why was this animal just lying there? It looked fine.
I walked back into the house, and continued to peel carrots, which was absurd, I thought, picking up another anyway, peeling it and dropping it into the pot au feu. "You can't do nothing. Go get the camera."
That made more sense.
I grabbed a bowl of cat food on the way back out, and returned to the cat, fighting for space near it, pushing dog heads out of the way.
"Va t'en, Baccarat!" I commanded the excited one at my elbow. She turned her head to gaze like a cow at me. Rapide. "Va t'en, Rapide. Allez." I snapped a picture as the animal looked calmly at me. I backed up and took two more, the black bodies of my two Labs wiggling all over the place. "Allez vous en! Allez!"
I knelt again to look at it more carefully. There was a small pool of blood on the bit of plastic sheeting next to her. Blood. Fresh. It had to have come from the cat, but it looked fine. What I could see, at least. But it wasn't moving. If it were fine, it would have amscrayed long since. We looked at each other, as I fought to elbow my dogs back.
"Allez! Allez vous en!"
That's when I noticed the smell. It smelled like something rotten. And pee. I felt the queasiness start in my stomach. I couldn't just leave the cat there. Go back into the house and finish my carrots. I'd have to get it out of there. I reached in and stroked its head. It let me. Baccarat wanted to pet it, too, with her muzzle and big old tongue.
I took the cat by the shoulders and began to lift it, gingerly. It howled. It didn't claw or bite. The hind end didn't move right. It seemed limp. It was a huge and heavy cat, which wasn't going to help if lifting it hurt it. I went for a towel someone had left at the pool last summer, left out since then by the petite maison, and worked it under the cat's body. Every time I got anywhere near its rear legs, it howled in pain. I tried to look. There were traces of blood on a bit of lumber against which it had rested its haunches lying there. I peered in the leaf-matted long fur of the rear legs, and there appeared to be black sac-like things in the fur. Injuries? Pooled blood under some kind of bites? Had it been mauled? I couldn't see. The back didn't seem to be broken; it could move its legs, weakly.
I needed something to support it. The travel cage was out of the question. I'd never get so large an injured cat into it without really causing it pain. I spotted one of the shallow pans for mixing the chaux, emptied the tools from it, tucked the towel as best as I could under the cat, like a sling, while it hissed at the frantically concerned dogs, and lifted it into the pan. All I needed now was to get the dogs into the house, grab the keys, close up and head to the vet.
The cat howled and then fell silent again.
I talked to it all the way to the vet's on the far side of Mantes. Right turns seemed to be the worst. I was a mess from the gym, not having had time to change. "They'll think I'm completely crazy," I thought to myself, feeling for a brush in my bag. I spend my life at the vet, between the animals we added intentionally to our menagerie and those we have found and added.
Maybe someone can explain it to me.
They seem to come to us, the lost and the suffering, and we take care of them, from Cunégonde Mouse to the yellow Lab I took to the shelter for adoption, Wisp, who Audouin found dying of hunger on a trail in the woods along the sand pits in the center of the boucle, and our own, in need of care, getting sick, dying.
"Ils sont bien chez vous," said the young woman at the desk.
"Mais comment savent-ils de venir, de se mettre dans notre chemin?" I asked, knowing she would not have an answer.
Do they talk amongst themselves, word spreading through the gardens and fields, from village to village, "Hey, if you are hurt or hungry, abandoned, go to them, and they will help you."
She noticed the cat had a tattoo in the ear. They could find the owners, "Call at the end of the afternoon, if you would like, she told me, and we can give you news of the cat."
I thanked her.
"No, c'est vous qu'on remercie de vous en êtes occupée, et d'avoir fait le déplacement jusqu'à ici."
"Mais, c'est normal. Je ne pouvais le laisser là comme ça."
"Oui, mais il y a plein de gens qui l'aurait mis juste un peu plus loin, pour s'en débarrasser du problème." How, I wondered, could anyone just move an animal, hurt and alone, to let it fend for itself or die -- a little farther along?
"Je vous appellerai. S'il n'avait pas un tattoo, je l'aurais gardé. Mon mari serait furieux, mais je me dis que si un animal vient auprès de moi dans son besoin, il faut que je le garde. C'est le destin."
She smiled like she didn't think I was crazy at all.
Although I am. As mad as a hatter.
When I returned home, Shadow was waiting in the entry court, and Wisp scampered across the garden to come inside with me. That's when I noticed that Wisp hadn't been alone. There was a smallish cat, very like her only darker, bounding toward the stairs to the bottom of the garden. I called to it, and it stopped and turned around, sat. We looked at one another through the open kitchen window.
"Kitty, kitty. Hey, kitty." It continued to look at me. I went and got the camera, amazed at this congress of felines at my house on this fine day, and it was still sitting there, right where it was before I crossed the room and back. I took its picture and came out the door to approach it, but it turned on its heel and headed to the lower garden, by way of the box hedges along the stair. Not afraid. Not perfectly at home.
You've read of several kinds of Cat, And my opinion now is that You should need no interpreterto understand their character. You now have learned enough to see That Cats are much like you and me And other people whome we find Possessed of various types of mind. For some are sane and some are mad And some are good and some are bad And some are better, some are worse - But all may be described in verse. You've seen them both at work and games, And learnt about their proper names, Their habits and their habitat: But How would you ad-dress a Cat?
So first, your memory I'll jog, And say: A CAT IS NOT A DOG.
Now Dogs pretend they like to fight; They often bark, more seldom bite; But yet a Dog is, on the whole, What you would call a simple soul. Of course I'm not including Pekes, And such fantastic canine freaks. The usual Dog about the Town Is much inclined to play the clown, And far from showing too much pride Is frequently undignified. He's very easily taken in - Just chuck him underneath the chin Or slap his back or shake his paw, And he will gambol and guffaw. He's such an easy-going lout, He'll answer any hail or shout.
Again I must remind you that A Dog's a Dog - A CAT'S A CAT.
With Cats, some say, one rule is true: Don't speak till you are spoken to. Myself, I do not hold with that - I say, you should ad-dress a Cat. But always keep in mind that he Resents familiarity. I bow, and taking off my hat, Ad-dress him in this form: O CAT! But if he is the Cat next door, Whom I have often met before (He comes to see me in my flat) I greet him with an OOPSA CAT! I've heard them call him James Buz-James - But we've not got so far as names. Before a Cat will condescend To treat you as a trusted friend, Some little token of esteem Is needed, like a dish of cream; And you might now and then supply Some caviare, or Strassburg Pie, Some potted grouse, or salmon paste - He's sure to have his personal taste. (I know a Cat, who makes a habit Of eating nothing else but rabbit, And when he's finished, licks his paws So's not to waste the onion sauce.) A Cat's entitled to expect These evidences of respect. And so in time you reach your aim, And finally call him by his NAME.
So this is this, and that is that: And there's how you AD-DRESS A CAT.
Or, take it to the vet for care, Have the clumps removed from its hair, And that hope it comes back to tell It's adventure and stay a spell. ....
The transcript of his economic speech from CNN. ....
Thank you very much.
Madam Speaker, Mr. Vice President, members of Congress, and the first lady of the United States, who's around here somewhere.
I have come here tonight not only to address the distinguished men and women in this great chamber, but to speak frankly and directly to the men and women who sent us here.
I know that for many Americans watching right now, the state of our economy is a concern that rises above all others, and rightly so. If you haven't been personally affected by this recession, you probably know someone who has: a friend, a neighbor, a member of your family.
You don't need to hear another list of statistics to know that our economy is in crisis, because you live it every day. It's the worry you wake up with and the source of sleepless nights. It's the job you thought you'd retire from but now have lost, the business you built your dreams upon that's now hanging by a thread, the college acceptance letter your child had to put back in the envelope.
The impact of this recession is real, and it is everywhere.
But while our economy may be weakened and our confidence shaken, though we are living through difficult and uncertain times, tonight I want every American to know this: We will rebuild, we will recover, and the United States of America will emerge stronger than before.
The weight of this crisis will not determine the destiny of this nation. The answers to our problems don't lie beyond our reach. They exist in our laboratories and our universities, in our fields and our factories, in the imaginations of our entrepreneurs and the pride of the hardest-working people on Earth.
Those qualities that have made America the greatest force of progress and prosperity in human history we still possess in ample measure. What is required now is for this country to pull together, confront boldly the challenges we face, and take responsibility for our future once more.
Now, if we're honest with ourselves, we'll admit that for too long we have not always met these responsibilities, as a government or as a people. I say this not to lay blame or to look backwards, but because it is only by understanding how we arrived at this moment that we'll be able to lift ourselves out of this predicament.
The fact is, our economy did not fall into decline overnight. Nor did all of our problems begin when the housing market collapsed or the stock market sank.
We have known for decades that our survival depends on finding new sources of energy, yet we import more oil today than ever before.
The cost of health care eats up more and more of our savings each year, yet we keep delaying reform.
Our children will compete for jobs in a global economy that too many of our schools do not prepare them for.
And though all of these challenges went unsolved, we still managed to spend more money and pile up more debt, both as individuals and through our government, than ever before.
In other words, we have lived through an era where too often short-term gains were prized over long-term prosperity, where we failed to look beyond the next payment, the next quarter, or the next election.
A surplus became an excuse to transfer wealth to the wealthy instead of an opportunity to invest in our future. Regulations...
Regulations -- regulations were gutted for the sake of a quick profit at the expense of a healthy market. People bought homes they knew they couldn't afford from banks and lenders who pushed those bad loans anyway. And all the while, critical debates and difficult decisions were put off for some other time on some other day.
Well, that day of reckoning has arrived, and the time to take charge of our future is here.
Now is the time to act boldly and wisely, to not only revive this economy, but to build a new foundation for lasting prosperity.
Now is the time to jump-start job creation, re-start lending, and invest in areas like energy, health care, and education that will grow our economy, even as we make hard choices to bring our deficit down. That is what my economic agenda is designed to do, and that is what I'd like to talk to you about tonight.
It's an agenda that begins with jobs. As soon...
As soon as I took office, I asked this Congress to send me a recovery plan by Presidents Day that would put people back to work and put money in their pockets, not because I believe in bigger government -- I don't -- not because I'm not mindful of the massive debt we've inherited -- I am.
I called for action because the failure to do so would have cost more jobs and caused more hardships. In fact, a failure to act would have worsened our long-term deficit by assuring weak economic growth for years. And that's why I pushed for quick action.
And tonight I am grateful that this Congress delivered and pleased to say that the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act is now law.
Over -- over the next two years, this plan will save or create 3.5 million jobs. More than 90 percent of these jobs will be in the private sector, jobs rebuilding our roads and bridges, constructing wind turbines and solar panels, laying broadband and expanding mass transit.
Because of this plan, there are teachers who can now keep their jobs and educate our kids. Health care professionals can continue caring for our sick. There are 57 police officers who are still on the streets of Minneapolis, [Minnesota] tonight because this plan prevented the layoffs their department was about to make.
Because of this plan, 95 percent of working households in America will receive a tax cut, a tax cut that you will see in your paychecks beginning on April 1.
Because of this plan, families who are struggling to pay tuition costs will receive a $2,500 tax credit for all four years of college.
And Americans -- and Americans who have lost their jobs in this recession will be able to receive extended unemployment benefits and continued health care coverage to help them weather this storm. Now I know there are some in this chamber and watching at home who are skeptical of whether this plan will work, and I understand that skepticism.
Here in Washington, we've all seen how quickly good intentions can turn into broken promises and wasteful spending. And with a plan of this scale comes enormous responsibility to get it right.
And that's why I've asked Vice President Biden to lead a tough, unprecedented oversight effort, because nobody messes with Joe.
I have told each of my Cabinet, as well as mayors and governors across the country, that they will be held accountable by me and the American people for every dollar they spend.
I've appointed a proven and aggressive inspector general to ferret out any and all cases of waste and fraud.
And we have created a new Web site called recovery.gov so that every American can find out how and where their money is being spent.
So, the recovery plan we passed is the first step in getting our economy back on track, but it is just the first step, because even if we manage this plan flawlessly, there will be no real recovery unless we clean up the credit crisis that has severely weakened our financial system.
I want to speak plainly and candidly about this issue tonight, because every American should know that it directly affects you and your family's well-being. You should also know that the money you've deposited in banks across the country is safe, your insurance is secure. You can rely on the continued operation of our financial system; that's not the source of concern.
The concern is that, if we do not re-start lending in this country, our recovery will be choked off before it even begins. You see, the flow of credit is the lifeblood of our economy. The ability to get a loan is how you finance the purchase of everything from a home to a car to a college education, how stores stock their shelves, farms buy equipment, and businesses make payroll.
But credit has stopped flowing the way it should. Too many bad loans from the housing crisis have made their way onto the books of too many banks. And with so much debt and so little confidence, these banks are now fearful of lending out any more money to households, to businesses, or even to each other.
When there's no lending, families can't afford to buy homes or cars, so businesses are forced to make layoffs. Our economy suffers even more, and credit dries up even further.
That is why this administration is moving swiftly and aggressively to break this destructive cycle, to restore confidence, and restart lending.
And we will do so in several ways. First, we are creating a new lending fund that represents the largest effort ever to help provide auto loans, college loans, and small-business loans to the consumers and entrepreneurs who keep this economy running.
Second -- second, we have launched a housing plan that will help responsible families facing the threat of foreclosure lower their monthly payments and refinance their mortgages.
It's a plan that won't help speculators or that neighbor down the street who bought a house he could never hope to afford, but it will help millions of Americans who are struggling with declining home values, Americans who will now be able to take advantage of the lower interest rates that this plan has already helped to bring about. In fact, the average family who refinances today can save nearly $2,000 per year on their mortgage.
Third, we will act with the full force of the federal government to ensure that the major banks that Americans depend on have enough confidence and enough money to lend even in more difficult times. And when we learn that a major bank has serious problems, we will hold accountable those responsible, force the necessary adjustments, provide the support to clean up their balance sheets, and assure the continuity of a strong, viable institution that can serve our people and our economy.
Now, I understand that, on any given day, Wall Street may be more comforted by an approach that gives bank bailouts with no strings attached and that holds nobody accountable for their reckless decisions, but such an approach won't solve the problem.
And our goal is to quicken the day when we restart lending to the American people and American business and end this crisis once and for all. And I intend to hold these banks fully accountable for the assistance they receive, and this time they will have to clearly demonstrate how taxpayer dollars result in more lending for the American taxpayer.
This time -- this time, CEOs won't be able to use taxpayer money to pad their paychecks, or buy fancy drapes, or disappear on a private jet. Those days are over.
Still, this plan will require significant resources from the federal government and, yes, probably more than we've already set aside. But while the cost of action will be great, I can assure you that the cost of inaction will be far greater, for it could result in an economy that sputters along for not months or years, but perhaps a decade.
That would be worse for our deficit, worse for business, worse for you, and worse for the next generation. And I refuse to let that happen.
Now, I understand that when the last administration asked this Congress to provide assistance for struggling banks, Democrats and Republicans alike were infuriated by the mismanagement and the results that followed. So were the American taxpayers; so was I.
So I know how unpopular it is to be seen as helping banks right now, especially when everyone is suffering in part from their bad decisions. I promise you: I get it.
But I also know that, in a time of crisis, we cannot afford to govern out of anger or yield to the politics of the moment.
My job -- our job -- is to solve the problem. Our job is to govern with a sense of responsibility.
I will not send -- I will not spend a single penny for the purpose of rewarding a single Wall Street executive, but I will do whatever it takes to help the small business that can't pay its workers or the family that has saved and still can't get a mortgage.
That's what this is about. It's not about helping banks; it's about helping people.
It's not about helping banks; it's about helping people. Because when credit is available again, that young family can finally buy a new home. And then some company will hire workers to build it. And then those workers will have money to spend. And if they can get a loan, too, maybe they'll finally buy that car or open their own business.
Investors will return to the market, and American families will see their retirement secured once more. Slowly, but surely, confidence will return, and our economy will recover.
So -- so I ask this Congress to join me in doing whatever proves necessary, because we cannot consign our nation to an open-ended recession. And to ensure that a crisis of this magnitude never happens again, I ask Congress to move quickly on legislation that will finally reform our outdated regulatory system.
It is time. It is time.
It is time to put in place tough, new common-sense rules of the road so that our financial market rewards drive and innovation and punishes shortcuts and abuse.
The recovery plan and the financial stability plan are the immediate steps we're taking to revive our economy in the short term, but the only way to fully restore America's economic strength is to make the long-term investments that will lead to new jobs, new industries, and a renewed ability to compete with the rest of the world.
The only way this century will be another American century is if we confront at last the price of our dependence on oil and the high cost of health care, the schools that aren't preparing our children and the mountain of debt they stand to inherit. That is our responsibility.
In the next few days, I will submit a budget to Congress. So often, we've come to view these documents as simply numbers on a page or a laundry list of programs.
I see this document differently. I see it as a vision for America, as a blueprint for our future.
My budget does not attempt to solve every problem or address every issue. It reflects the stark reality of what we've inherited: a trillion-dollar deficit, a financial crisis, and a costly recession.
Given these realities, everyone in this chamber -- Democrats and Republicans -- will have to sacrifice some worthy priorities for which there are no dollars, and that includes me.
But that does not mean we can afford to ignore our long-term challenges.
I reject the view that says our problems will simply take care of themselves, that says government has no role in laying the foundation for our common prosperity, for history tells a different story.
History reminds us that, at every moment of economic upheaval and transformation, this nation has responded with bold action and big ideas.
In the midst of civil war, we laid railroad tracks from one coast to another that spurred commerce and industry.
From the turmoil of the Industrial Revolution came a system of public high schools that prepared our citizens for a new age.
In the wake of war and depression, the GI Bill sent a generation to college and created the largest middle-class in history.
And a twilight struggle for freedom led to a nation of highways, an American on the moon, and an explosion of technology that still shapes our world.
In each case, government didn't supplant private enterprise; it catalyzed private enterprise. It created the conditions for thousands of entrepreneurs and new businesses to adapt and to thrive.
We are a nation that has seen promise amid peril and claimed opportunity from ordeal. Now we must be that nation again.
That is why, even as it cuts back on programs we don't need, the budget I submit will invest in the three areas that are absolutely critical to our economic future: energy, health care, and education.
It begins with energy.
We know the country that harnesses the power of clean, renewable energy will lead the 21st century. And yet it is China that has launched the largest effort in history to make their economy energy efficient. We invented solar technology, but we've fallen behind countries like Germany and Japan in producing it. New plug-in hybrids roll off our assembly lines, but they will run on batteries made in Korea.
Well, I do not accept a future where the jobs and industries of tomorrow take root beyond our borders, and I know you don't, either. It is time for America to lead again.
Thanks to our recovery plan, we will double this nation's supply of renewable energy in the next three years. We've also made the largest investment in basic research funding in American history, an investment that will spur not only new discoveries in energy, but breakthroughs in medicine, in science and technology.
We will soon lay down thousands of miles of power lines that can carry new energy to cities and towns across this country. And we will put Americans to work making our homes and buildings more efficient so that we can save billions of dollars on our energy bills.
But to truly transform our economy, to protect our security and save our planet from the ravages of climate change, we need to ultimately make clean, renewable energy the profitable kind of energy.
So I ask this Congress to send me legislation that places a market-based cap on carbon pollution and drives the production of more renewable energy in America. That's what we need.
And to support -- to support that innovation, we will invest $15 billion a year to develop technologies like wind power and solar power, advanced biofuels, clean coal, and more efficient cars and trucks built right here in America.
Speaking of our auto industry, everyone recognizes that years of bad decision-making and a global recession have pushed our automakers to the brink. We should not and will not protect them from their own bad practices.
But we are committed to the goal of a re-tooled, re-imagined auto industry that can compete and win. Millions of jobs depend on it; scores of communities depend on it; and I believe the nation that invented the automobile cannot walk away from it.
Now, none of this will come without cost, nor will it be easy. But this is America. We don't do what's easy. We do what's necessary to move this country forward.
And for that same reason, we must also address the crushing cost of health care.
This is a cost that now causes a bankruptcy in America every 30 seconds. By the end of the year, it could cause 1.5 million Americans to lose their homes. In the last eight years, premiums have grown four times faster than wages. And in each of these years, 1 million more Americans have lost their health insurance.
It is one of the major reasons why small businesses close their doors and corporations ship jobs overseas. And it is one of the largest and fastest-growing parts of our budget.
Given these facts, we can no longer afford to put health care reform on hold. We can't afford to do it.
It's time.
Already, we've done more to advance the cause of health care reform in the last 30 days than we've done in the last decade. When it was days old, this Congress passed a law to provide and protect health insurance for 11 million American children whose parents work full-time.
Our recovery plan will invest in electronic health records and new technology that will reduce errors, bring down costs, ensure privacy, and save lives.
It will launch a new effort to conquer a disease that has touched the life of nearly every American, including me, by seeking a cure for cancer in our time.
And -- and it makes the largest investment ever in preventive care, because that's one of the best ways to keep our people healthy and our costs under control.
This budget builds on these reforms. It includes a historic commitment to comprehensive health care reform, a down payment on the principle that we must have quality, affordable health care for every American. It's a commitment
It's a commitment that's paid for in part by efficiencies in our system that are long overdue, and it's a step we must take if we hope to bring down our deficit in the years to come.
Now, there will be many different opinions and ideas about how to achieve reform. That's why I'm bringing together businesses and workers, doctors and health care providers, Democrats and Republicans to begin work on this issue next week.
I suffer no illusions that this will be an easy process. Once again, it will be hard. But I also know that nearly a century after Teddy Roosevelt first called for reform, the cost of our health care has weighed down our economy and our conscience long enough.
So let there be no doubt: Health care reform cannot wait, it must not wait, and it will not wait another year.
The third challenge we must address is the urgent need to expand the promise of education in America.
In a global economy, where the most valuable skill you can sell is your knowledge, a good education is no longer just a pathway to opportunity. It is a prerequisite.
Right now, three-quarters of the fastest-growing occupations require more than a high school diploma, and yet just over half of our citizens have that level of education. We have one of the highest high school dropout rates of any industrialized nation, and half of the students who begin college never finish.
This is a prescription for economic decline, because we know the countries that out-teach us today will out-compete us tomorrow. That is why it will be the goal of this administration to ensure that every child has access to a complete and competitive education, from the day they are born to the day they begin a career. That is a promise we have to make to the children of America.
Already, we've made a historic investment in education through the economic recovery plan. We've dramatically expanded early childhood education and will continue to improve its quality, because we know that the most formative learning comes in those first years of life.
We've made college affordable for nearly 7 million more students, 7 million. And we have provided the resources necessary to prevent painful cuts and teacher layoffs that would set back our children's progress.
But we know that our schools don't just need more resources; they need more reform. And that is why...
That is why this budget creates new teachers -- new incentives for teacher performance, pathways for advancement, and rewards for success. We'll invest -- we'll invest in innovative programs that are already helping schools meet high standards and close achievement gaps. And we will expand our commitment to charter schools.
It is...It is our responsibility as lawmakers and as educators to make this system work, but it is the responsibility of every citizen to participate in it.
So tonight I ask every American to commit to at least one year or more of higher education or career training. This can be a community college or a four-year school, vocational training or an apprenticeship. But whatever the training may be, every American will need to get more than a high school diploma.
And dropping out of high school is no longer an option. It's not just quitting on yourself; it's quitting on your country. And this country needs and values the talents of every American.
That's why -- that's why we will support -- we will provide the support necessary for all young Americans to complete college and meet a new goal: By 2020, America will once again have the highest proportion of college graduates in the world. That is a goal we can meet.
That's a goal we can meet.
Now -- now, I know that the price of tuition is higher than ever, which is why, if you are willing to volunteer in your neighborhood or give back to your community or serve your country, we will make sure that you can afford a higher education.
And to encourage a renewed spirit of national service for this and future generations, I ask Congress to send me the bipartisan legislation that bears the name of Sen. Orrin Hatch, as well as an American who has never stopped asking what he can do for his country, Sen. Edward Kennedy.
These education policies will open the doors of opportunity for our children, but it is up to us to ensure they walk through them.
In the end, there is no program or policy that can substitute for a parent, for a mother or father who will attend those parent-teacher conferences, or help with homework, or turn off the TV, put away the video games, read to their child.
I speak to you not just as a president, but as a father, when I say that responsibility for our children's education must begin at home. That is not a Democratic issue or a Republican issue. That's an American issue.
And there is, of course, another responsibility we have to our children, and that's the responsibility to ensure that we do not pass on to them a debt they cannot pay. That is critical.
I agree, absolutely.
See, I know we can get some consensus in here.
With the deficit we inherited, the cost of the crisis we face, and the long-term challenges we must meet, it has never been more important to ensure that, as our economy recovers, we do what it takes to bring this deficit down. That is critical.
Now, I'm proud that we passed a recovery plan free of earmarks, and I want to pass a budget next year that ensures that each dollar we spend reflects only our most important national priorities.
And yesterday, I -- I held a fiscal summit where I pledged to cut the deficit in half by the end of my first term in office. My administration has also begun to go line by line through the federal budget in order to eliminate wasteful and ineffective programs.
As you can imagine, this is a process that will take some time, but we have already identified $2 trillion in savings over the next decade.
In this budget, we will end education programs that don't work and end direct payments to large agribusinesses that don't need them.
We'll eliminate the no-bid contracts that have wasted billions in Iraq and -- and reform our defense budget so that we're not paying for Cold War-era weapons systems we don't use.
We will root out -- we will root out the waste and fraud and abuse in our Medicare program that doesn't make our seniors any healthier. We will restore a sense of fairness and balance to our tax code by finally ending the tax breaks for corporations that ship our jobs overseas.
In order to save our children from a future of debt, we will also end the tax breaks for the wealthiest 2 percent of Americans.
Now, let me be clear. Let me be absolutely clear, because I know you'll end up hearing some of the same claims that rolling back these tax breaks means a massive tax increase on the American people. If your family earns less than $250,000 a year, a quarter-million dollars a year, you will not see your taxes increased a single dime. I repeat: not one single dime.
In fact -- not a dime.
In fact -- in fact, the recovery plan provides a tax cut -- that's right, a tax cut -- for 95 percent of working families. And, by the way, these checks are on the way.
Now, to preserve our long-term fiscal health, we must also address the growing cost in Medicare and Social Security. Comprehensive health care reform is the best way to strengthen Medicare for years to come, and we must also begin a conversation on how to do the same for Social Security, while creating tax-free universal savings accounts for all Americans.
Finally, because we're also suffering from a deficit of trust, I am committed to restoring a sense of honesty and accountability to our budget. That is why this budget looks ahead 10 years and accounts for spending that was left out under the old rules and, for the first time, that includes the full cost of fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan.
For seven years, we've been a nation at war. No longer will we hide its price.
Along with our outstanding national security team, I am now carefully reviewing our policies in both wars, and I will soon announce a way forward in Iraq that leaves Iraq to its people and responsibly ends this war.
And with our friends and allies, we will forge a new and comprehensive strategy for Afghanistan and Pakistan to defeat al Qaeda and combat extremism, because I will not allow terrorists to plot against the American people from safe havens halfway around the world. We will not allow it.
As we meet here tonight, our men and women in uniform stand watch abroad and more are readying to deploy. To each and every one of them, and to the families who bear the quiet burden of their absence, Americans are united in sending one message: We honor your service; we are inspired by your sacrifice; and you have our unyielding support.
To relieve the strain on our forces, my budget increases the number of our soldiers and Marines. And to keep our sacred trust with those who serve, we will raise their pay and give our veterans the expanded health care and benefits that they have earned.
To overcome extremism, we must also be vigilant in upholding the values our troops defend, because there is no force in the world more powerful than the example of America. And that is why I have ordered the closing of the detention center at Guantanamo Bay and will seek swift and certain justice for captured terrorists, because living our values doesn't make us weaker. It makes us safer, and it makes us stronger.
And that is why I can stand here tonight and say without exception or equivocation that the United States of America does not torture. We can make that commitment here tonight.
In words and deeds, we are showing the world that a new era of engagement has begun, for we know that America cannot meet the threats of this century alone, but the world cannot meet them without America.
We cannot shun the negotiating table nor ignore the foes or forces that could do us harm. We are instead called to move forward with the sense of confidence and candor that serious times demand.
To seek progress towards a secure and lasting peace between Israel and her neighbors, we have appointed an envoy to sustain our effort. To meet the challenges of the 21st century -- from terrorism to nuclear proliferation, from pandemic disease to cyber threats to crushing poverty -- we will strengthen old alliances, forge new ones, and use all elements of our national power.
And to respond to an economic crisis that is global in scope, we are working with the nations of the G-20 to restore confidence in our financial system, avoid the possibility of escalating protectionism, and spur demand for American goods in markets across the globe, for the world depends on us having a strong economy, just as our economy depends on the strength of the world's.
As we stand at this crossroads of history, the eyes of all people in all nations are once again upon us, watching to see what we do with this moment, waiting for us to lead.
Those of us gathered here tonight have been called to govern in extraordinary times. It is a tremendous burden, but also a great privilege, one that has been entrusted to few generations of Americans, for in our hands lies the ability to shape our world, for good or for ill.
I know that it's easy to lose sight of this truth, to become cynical and doubtful, consumed with the petty and the trivial.
But in my life, I have also learned that hope is found in unlikely places, that inspiration often comes not from those with the most power or celebrity, but from the dreams and aspirations of ordinary Americans who are anything but ordinary.
I think of Leonard Abess, a bank president from Miami who reportedly cashed out of his company, took a $60 million bonus, and gave it out to all 399 people who worked for him, plus another 72 who used to work for him. He didn't tell anyone, but when the local newspaper found out, he simply said, "I knew some of these people since I was 7 years old. I didn't feel right getting the money myself."
I think about -- I think about Greensburg -- Greensburg, Kansas, a town that was completely destroyed by a tornado, but is being rebuilt by its residents as a global example of how clean energy can power an entire community, how it can bring jobs and businesses to a place where piles of bricks and rubble once lay.
"The tragedy was terrible," said one of the men who helped them rebuild. "But the folks here know that it also provided an incredible opportunity."
I think about Ty'Sheoma Bethea, the young girl from that school I visited in Dillon, South Carolina, a place where the ceilings leak, the paint peels off the walls, and they have to stop teaching six times a day because the train barrels by their classroom.
She had been told that her school is hopeless. But the other day after class, she went to the public library and typed up a letter to the people sitting in this chamber. She even asked her principal for the money to buy a stamp.
The letter asks us for help and says, "We are just students trying to become lawyers, doctors, congressmen like yourself, and one day president, so we can make a change to not just the state of South Carolina, but also the world. We are not quitters."
That's what she said: "We are not quitters."
These words and these stories tell us something about the spirit of the people who sent us here. They tell us that, even in the most trying times, amid the most difficult circumstances, there is a generosity, a resilience, a decency, and a determination that perseveres, a willingness to take responsibility for our future and for posterity.
Their resolve must be our inspiration. Their concerns must be our cause. And we must show them and all our people that we are equal to the task before us.
I know that we haven't agreed on every issue thus far.
There are surely times in the future where we will part ways. But I also know that every American who is sitting here tonight loves this country and wants it to succeed.
I know that.
That must be the starting point for every debate we have in the coming months and where we return after those debates are done. That is the foundation on which the American people expect us to build common ground.
And if we do, if we come together and lift this nation from the depths of this crisis, if we put our people back to work and restart the engine of our prosperity, if we confront without fear the challenges of our time and summon that enduring spirit of an America that does not quit, then some day, years from now, our children can tell their children that this was the time when we performed, in the words that are carved into this very chamber, "something worthy to be remembered."
Thank you. God bless you. And may God bless the United States of America. Thank you.
Why have I never noticed these before? Could it be that not knowing what they were meant that I did not even see them, but having learned about them, small and discreet as they are, growing in their little clumps here and there, they have become visible to me? I must have at least noticed the clumps of white flowers, even if I didn't approach and see their delicate white bells with green markings. But, knowing them from their images and description, I could see the details even as I walked by with the dogs. I went back for my camera later to take the photos above.
Trust me, I deleted about half of them. That's the problem when I love a flower. It's like documenting your first child's life.
Walking the dogs this morning, I saw even more, as though they are suddenly everywhere, and I can't believe that I didn't see them before. The first that I saw were before we left for Chamonix, in a wild and overgrown lot up the street that serves as a parking area for its neighbors. If Baccarat and Rapide hadn't needed to relieve themselves, and I hadn't made them go that far to do it, I wouldn't have seen those either. I was going to return with a shovel to take some clumps for the garden. Hardy corms, they spread easily, so it isn't like stealing. It's like sharing one's candy.
Besides, all of the ones I have seen are growing along the public ways. Who would sanction me for my several corms of Snowdrops?
These, and the crocuses, narcissuses and the earliest tulips, pushing up through the ground and the leaves of the Bergenia cordifolia in the flower beds along the top terrace, remind me that my work begins now if I want a beautiful garden this year. I was "otherwise occupied" last year, although I gave it some time, late in the season, doing my small part to help make sure that Obama made it to the White House to do exactly what he is trying to do with his budget proposal, as the New York Times reports this morning,
"Departing from the free market orthodoxy of his predecessor, George W. Bush, Mr. Obama would use the government’s powers of spending and taxation to push the private market in new directions."
As I emailed and blogged and passed along articles, raised exceedingly modest sums of money and did everything I could to convince those around me to take a chance on this guy rather than going with the Clinton war horse, I watched my garden flower, and thanked myself for having done as much preparation as I had the fall before.
This year, that was not as true. I haven't even raked everywhere. The ivy overwhelms the lower gate pillars and bits of walls. There was an election campaign to win and then an inauguration ball in Washington, D.C. to pull off for the MyBO folks. Having done both, and having a renovation of the house underway and a garden semi-destroyed from the workers' traversing the upper terrace with wheelbarrows of chaux (or "natural" stucco), erecting and taking down scaffolding, leaving their materials strewn about, I have work to do for us now. Money, we have all learned to our bitter surprise, does not grow on trees, after all.
I personally find it very comforting to know that the Obama administration will hold a 30% to 40% stake in Citibank -- the bank issuing my Visa card since 1986 -- through the treasury. We have seen how responsible the private bankers are with our money, and we have witnessed the extent of their fiscal morality. I think a little social holding of and authority over the fruits of our collective labors is just fine to insure the welfare of the members of our society, the least to the greatest of us, in addition to the security of our nation and the world in which it exists. Those of us outside can remind all of you inside that what you do affects us all.
They know what's going on, in the most removed corners of the earth, where other occupations and worries would seemingly be uppermost in the collective conscience. In the less-than-fancy bars of the ski resorts with the waitresses and guys leaning on the bar and on the oeufs up to the highest elevations with the financiers, the conversation was what things cost now that the leading currencies -- to say nothing of those not so fortunate as to have access to those currencies, like the Czech Republic -- have suffered devaluation owing to the subprime loan crisis and the hedge fund managers trading them through their inflated security mortgage-backed securities for exorbitant profit throughout the heady ethers of the Glass-Steagall, regulation-free 1990's and early 2000's, all while sheltering their immense profits from taxation, hoarding their personal wealth to support their country clubs, rather than to make sure that all Americans have access to equally high-quality, affordable heath care and claiming that this makes a man and his wife patriots.
Don't worry, bonus guys and CEO's, there will still be plenty for you to make and keep for yourselves so that we'll have work building your big houses and making stuff to sell to you. Here, Barney Frank and Chris Matthews will fill you in; we're changing the definitions and playing rules to reflect a greater morality, a socially responsible model of action:
I have invested in the garden, and we cannot afford to let that go to waste, and now we are finally investing our heard-earned (merci, mon mari) money in the house. It would be unconscionable for me to fall down in my duties now. The work dragged along, but now it stands a chance of moving forward (more) quickly, and I need to devote myself to determining exactly what we want, and getting as much of that as we can.
My pride is invested here, in the garden and in the house, and I can't keep putting it off and making excuses, talking about what we would do and will do in order to feel better. I need it to be done.
Me? Of course. I jest, for that, I suppose, is the second greatest lesson the church I mostly ignore teaches. Forgive.
I have already given up on loving everyone. I just can't. Don't worry, I know perfectly well how much better my life would be were I able to bring myself to give up the satisfaction of not loving some people.
Forgiving works, though. Or it helps, anyway.
But I am not entirely happy. Ask Audouin. I called him last night when I arrived at the house after 7 1/2 hours on the road (Sam drove like an old hand, while I tried to stay awake, since I am supposed to be paying attention to how he does), looked at the balcony up over my head for the first time and saw all the things wrong with it.
Yes. I can see them in the dark, even. It's hell being an architect and doing your own house, especially here in France, where no one listens to you. Not even when you provide them with detailed drawings to follow and make yourself available for questions. First off, you have no idea who the sub for the balcony is. Second, you're not going to get shop drawings. What were you thinking? You are instead assured that the guy is the last of the Mohicans for this type of work, you are exceedingly fortunate that your contractor knows him, and with a nearly 120% overrun on cost, you're damn lucky to get such a fine balcony at all. Surely it will be perfect, you tell yourself.
Not that I expected that it would be. Not after the last few months. Something would certainly be wrong. What I wasn't expecting were four things wrong immediately obvious in the perfect dark.
The diagonals were missing in the motifs in front of each of the three French windows.
The top rail was not a handrail.
The postcap details had been ignored and/or discarded, the caps reduced to shallow pyramids that disappear altogether when looking up from the garden.
The worst. Maybe. The end double post had been eliminated, cutting short the return on the balcony at Sam's bedroom window. It looks truncated. Mean. It's too late.
I was yelling into the phone. Poor Audouin. It wasn't his fault, but it wasn't helping either that he was suddenly defending the contractor, as he has tended to do since they showed up on Monday, and Joaquim retold his Eric saga all over again, for two hours on the phone. I was so upset that I couldn't go on. I just hung up.
He called back.
"Pourquoi tu ne réponds pas? Jacqueline?" I.just.couldn't. It had nothing to do with him. I just couldn't talk about it anymore. Instead, I put away the leftover groceries we brought back with us. 10 minutes later I called him back, intending to apologize, and started all over again. He listened, and then I heard, "Capucine --"
"Elle est debout?" It was 12:40 am.
"Oui," he hesitated. "Elle est -- un peu malade." As usual.
"Je te laisse." I didn't want to talk anyway. I was still fuming. The phone rang. I didn't answer. He didn't leave a message. Wisp followed me up the stairs to bed and settled herself across my neck, pressing her nose into my cheek, purring.
Welcome home.
She held onto me, paws around my neck, all night and into the morning, until the voices in the garden announced the arrival of Georges and José, and I had to get up.
I was watching the x-country ski world championships when Georges knocked on the door.
"Bonjour, Madame de Floris," we looked at each other. I am sure it was written all over my face. My mother always said that I am as transparent as Scotchtape, and I wasn't even really trying to appear bright and sunny, or happy to see them. "Ca va?" I breathed in.
"Oui -- ça va."
"Vous êtes sure? Ca n'a pas l'aire. Le balcon, ça va?" I sucked in more air.
"Bon. Il y a -- quelques choses qui --"
"Ne correspondent pas au documents?" finished Georges.
"Oui. Enfin, ce ne sont pas grandes choses, mais --"
"On peut les voir ensemble? On peut monter les voir?"
"Oui, Georges." He followed me up to the bathroom on the stair landing, and watched as I struggled to open the French door, my feet caught up in Audouin's old weights and bar.
"Laissez-moi faire, Madame de Floris. Je peux l'ouvrir pour vous." I was cracking. I can't stay angry with Georges or José. Joaquim is another matter. He's a whirling dervish of nervous, talkative, furious energy that tires me out and makes me want him to go away. Especially when he gets onto his... how shall we say?... frustrations. Nudge-nudge, wink-wink. He is divorced, and no matter how solidly embedded is his discussion of them in an intellectual basis, it's just not something about which I want to hear one single word. Ever.
They will see to making proper post caps and affixing them, and the missing pieces of the motifs in front of the three windows will be added. Maybe I will insist on a handrail, like on the small balcony, too. The extra length on the balcony is to kiss good-bye with a tear and a sigh. The whole thing will be treated with a tar-based substance that protects the wood and gives is a silky-matte charcoal color.
The window went into the stairway. That makes a huge difference. The horrible, over-sized fake leaded stained-glass window is history.
"Vous voulez qu'on la garde?" asked Georges, surprised that I didn't respond right away. He knows how much I detest it.
"Bon, si j'hésite c'est seulement parce que la fille de mon mari nous a fait savoir que sa mère trouve ça triste que nous la fait sauter. Elle l'aime. Je pourrais lui la donner."
"Elle vient toujours ici?" s'étonna Georges.
"Non. Surtout pas. C'est la prise qu'elle garde sur la maison --"He nodded.
It will go to the place where all happily discarded junk goes: the dump. Another step toward the future and a transformation that makes this house mine. Ours.
Yes, we are territorial, and, yes, we do prefer our own children. Or those of perfect strangers, like the adorable boy with the dry sense of humor and twinkle on les oeufs at Grands Montets, who made even Sam's lips compress into an attempt to conceal his amusement as he answered the questions of some woman who was probably an aunt. Très drôle, en effet.
The scare of the day came when Georges knocked late in the afternoon. I thought he was going to merely wish me a nice evening, but no.
"Madame de Floris, je suis désolée de vous déranger, mais, est-ce que vous savez où est l'ancienne boite aux lettres? Joaquim m'a dit de la prendre pour la réstorer." I told him that the old mailbox we had discovered when we removed the old stucco was still over under the shelter they had built for their tools. He said that no, it wasn't.
"On a bien cherché partout avant de vous déranger avec ça, mais on n'a rien trouvé." I asked if they had looked in the rooms of the petite maison. Oui. The garage? Oui. I started to panic. This is the old mail box that dates from 1868. It's valuable, and it is very important, not only to us, but to a number of people from Moosesucks and the neighboring village who know about it. I researched it and learned that it is one of the very first ever made in France. It is the same as the yellow boxes you find attached to walls throughout France today, the purpose of which is to receive letters for the mail person to pick up. Just like the blue ones on the sidewalks of the United States.
The three of us continued to search high and low, while I dialed numbers on my cell phone. The answering service on Audouin's cell phone. The same on Anne-so's and my mother-in-law's. I made a mental note to get their home number back on my contact list.
"Je crains qu'elle ne soit volée," said Georges, as we crossed one another in our to and fros, "Beaucoup de monde parle de cette boite aux lettres."
"Je sais," I said. It has become the symbol of the renovation of the house. One neighbor asked when we will be having the opening for the mailbox.
"Le garçon avec les cheveux," he made a sign with his hands to indicate a puffy ponytail of long hair, "m'en a parlé aussi."
"Je sais." What we both worried was that enough people had talked about this old mailbox that we intended to place back in the wall and make a part of the house again that word had gotten to someone who wanted it enough to scale the wall and hunt it down.
Absurd. This is Moosesucks. Who would do that? Why would they even imagine that we'd actually leave it where they could get their hands on it?
Because people do that all the time.
"J'ai pensé à la mettre à l'abris," I said. It was one afternoon, when I was raking leaves nearby and it caught my eye. I made a mental note to move it inside, and forgot.
"Moi aussi," dit Georges.
"Attendez. Je pense que je sais où trouver le numéro chez mes beaux-parents." I ran into the house again and typed "amazon.fr" and clicked on "mon compte". "Adresses contactes". The first one that came up was my father-in-law. I dialed the number. My mother-in-law sounded either unhappy to hear from me, or very distracted. She handed the phone to her son.
"Tu ne saurais pas par hasard où se trouve l'ancienne boite aux lettres?"
"Mais oui, c'est moi qui l'ai avec moi."
Ah bon. He had the old mailbox. Just like that. The week they decide to take it to do the work to preserve it, he takes it to work on it, figuring he'd have the time. Or, the week that he decides to take it, figuring that he'd have the time to work on it, they look for it -- after 4 or 5 months -- to take it to work on it.
That was a relief, to say the least. I didn't know what I'd have said to the retired man who walks past the house every day on his way to walk around the lake for his heart, and all the others who are waiting to see it installed in its place of honor, not to mention what I'd have had to do to sooth my own fierce disappointment.
I understand that our president addressed a joint session of congress for the first time the other night. I really need to pay attention.
On one of our last days, I took the dogs out for our usual early morning walk from the hotel, through the cemetery and village of Argentière, through the forest of the Moraine to the base of Grands Montets and back as the sun was coming up over the mountaintops. What a difference a lack of fog and cloud cover make.
You can see how the village settles in the valley, and not on a fog-covered plain, as you might well believe it does from the photos from one of our first days.
She still doesn't know that's why we come -- essentially -- to this place she'd probably prefer to Moosesucks.
You and me, Bac. You and me.
She was so surprised by the humans gliding down the packed trails, heading over to the lifts up to Grands Montets that I decided to walk on over to the chairlift and Gondola up to the slopes with them, just to see what sort of reaction that would draw. I was not disappointed! Rapide couldn't take her eyes off the chairlifts moving this way and that overhead, skis dangling into the air. Baccarat darted back and forth, from me to under the chairs, and back again.
And as if the morning hadn't been packed enough with excitement and pleasures, they found a new friend with whom to play; the dog of a lovely woman with a Nordic or German lilting accent in her French, setting out from Grands Montets on her cross country skis. I regretted my American one. A poor exchange. It was a little like a French for beginners conversation.
"Ils sont gentils?"
"Oui, ells sont très, très gentilles."
"Le mien aussi, il est très gentil."
"Elles adorent jouer avec un autre chien."
"Oui!" dit-elle, "Ils aiment jouer ensemble!" I could hear her smile in her voice, even though I was too far to see her correctly, and I was busy watching the dogs race around my legs.
"Il y a des gens qui n'apprécient pas qu'on laisse jouer nos chiens avec les leurs, mais ici, ce n'est pas le cas. Tout le monde comprend que les chiens en ont besoin."
"Oui!"
"Allez, Rapide. Allez, Baccarat. On laisse la dame faire son promenade de ski! Viens! Au pied!" I wanted to take this nice woman home with me and keep her forever. Her dog, too.
It was our last day, and if I knew Sam (and I do know Sam), he was still sleeping. The sun in the sky, light clouds moving through the valley, he'd regret having missed time skiing, but never enough to get up. By evening, he was snoring on his bed, fully dressed still in his ski clothes, when I decided to come down to the lounge and met the pilot and the photographer. A boy needs his 12 hours, especially after a day furious that he can't throw a 360° at will and get air every time. It's not easy, I try to console him, when you live in the muddy French countryside, just this side of Normandy.
For those who have never been here, or to a place like this, I include the next two bits of video that I took yesterday, riding the chairlift Rapide and Baccarat saw earlier in the morning. When I first came to Chamonix with Sam, 10 years ago, I was immensely disappointed when we arrived in the valley around noon because there was practically no snow visible and I couldn't see a single trail or skier. I had come to one of the top ski resorts in the world, a sort of fairy tale trip for a single mom and her little boy, and all I saw was dirty snow in the streets of a fairly good sized city, settled between tree-covered slopes. I settled us in for a nap for our jetlag, hoping to awake to a new sight.
Inquiring later, we were told that the skiing is accessible via gondola at the higher altitudes. All I could see were rock peaks covered in snow. Up there?
Oui.
Oh.
The next morning, we got our equipment, bought our week ski passes and headed to the gondola -- téléphériques -- up to the nearest of the 5 stations just above us, le Brévent. The gondola rose up through the trees, higher and higher along the lower slope of the mountain, and then, suddenly, it cleared the trees, and we were surrounded by brilliant white snow and skiers, everywhere. We stepped off into the most stunning winter landscape I had ever encountered. It took my breath away to leave the city below and find myself in a skier's paradise, completely removed from everything that has nothing to do with the purest air and skiing.
We have returned every year since then, save one.
From the valley base, the lower portion
Arriving at the top
From here, you have to ski down to another chairlift, down a slope to where the gondola arrives -- for those who prefer not to take the series of chairs, but we don't like to wait for the gondola -- and then you can take one of the chairs or the "eggs" -- les oeufs -- up to the top of Bochard or another spot from which another red and two blacks take off. There is a second gondola, which we didn't take this year, that does to the very top, and from there, you can ski down the glacier of Argentière. For this, you need a costlier pass, or to pay 10 euros per person per trip. We did this last year, and it would be well worth it for me to track down those photos, probably taken with Sam's camera. Stunning.
And a 360° panoramic of the view from the top of Bochard,
And, since there was a specific request to see Sam, and not just the dogs, here you go. I did my best. The subject was less than enthusiastic.
Time to finish loading the car, pay the hotel bill, and leave the valley. I could stay here at least until the snow melts, the rhododendrons bloom, and the summer hiking begins, and then stay on again.
When I return, I will find the balcony mostly finished on our house. That's another story. They did come on Monday, a week late, just as Audouin was threatening to have our lawyer take action. Joaquim bent his ear for two hours on the telephone, explaining all over again -- all he needs is reason to be excited and an audience of one -- how Eric had made a mess of everyone and abused us all.
There is certainly a true story in all that is said by the various parties, but I am so, so sick of it. All I wanted was my delapidated house renovated so that I could live in it more happily, and I have to live a Portuguese soap opera.
What is certain is that in the end, we will get less for more. ....
the cemetery in Argentière, looking up to the glacier
The mountains offer another form of peace, the rest of eternity. While I walk through the forest at their feet and feel the urge to lie down on that cold earth that beckons kindly, watched over and protected by the eternal peeks and soaring trees, promising to cradle me gently under the night sky, others climb the rock faces and the glaciers and find their rest and safety below the cold ground and snow.
I have walked through this cemetery when there was scant snow cover and seen the granite slabs lying side to side, headstones telling the stories of the lives lost scaling the rock and ice of the mountains that surround us, a death that is part of the life of these valleys. They are men, mostly young, although not all. Some have lived to risk their lives more times for the satisfaction of establishing their place in the harshest, least hospitable parts of this landscape, their home.
It is irresistible for some who live in this element. Even the skiers.
Some among us outgrow skis and poles and the blue, red and black trails, staked out nicely by the poles along their sides, with names and signs marking one's progress down them in case of an unfortunate tumble, fill backpacks with shovels and picks, carabiner clips, step into their harnesses, sling rope from their hips, attach their skis to their packs and climb to the tops of the needles to ski back down the untouched snow of the highest corridors, leaving graceful, sinuous trails to mark their passage.
Others ride to the top of the trails to which we will remain faithful, attach their rope and drop down the corridor to unthinkable perches from which to detach and chose their path to the bottom. This is one such point of depart, at the top of Bochard at Grands Montets. Sam and I watched someone do this, fixing their ropes to drop down the V of rock with his friend and their snowboards to ski places we have never seen in 10 years here, Mont Blanc witnessing serenely another human need to conquer this ultimate challenge from across the glacier below.
Most succeed and tell their tales at the bars come the evening. Like the two guys from England here in the hotel lounge where I am writing.
"He's spent 5 days trying to kill us, I think," said one into his iPhone before the other came down to get on his Mac, "It was quite scary, really, especially given my level of fitness right now." They have spent 5 days hors piste, or off-trail, sking the powder of the Mont-Blanc massif. It turned out that the second man was the informal guide for his group of friends. The first was only too happy to recount his perilous outings of the past several days.
"I was the only one without a Recco. I felt quite paranoid, really."
"Yes, you'd have been the only one not to return from your day on the powder."
"Buried under the avalanche," he nodded.
"But, you're here, safe and sound to tell us your tales," I said before turning to his friend, installed with immense calm and confidence in his chair at the corner table, to ask, "You must know the terrain well," I said, "How is that?"
"Oh, he's been coming here for 20 years, skis 50 days a year," said his friend.
"120 this year," rejoined the friend. He looked over at me, "I'm retired now."
"Yeah," said his friend, "100,000 £ cars, 6 months skiing a year. The life, really."
"In what line of work were you in that you could ski 50 days a year, might I ask? I am needing to counsel my son for his education and career, and he might appreciate the lesson." We laughed.
"I photographed cars for trade magazines for 25 years." If only Sam had been there to hear that. Not only did he have a Mac, he's a photographer who makes enough to retire and ski 6 months in the likes of Chamonix.
"My son should be here to hear that," I said. "He spent a ride up the oeufs telling me that my Dell is crap and that a Mac is the only thing to have because he also wants a much better camera. He's thinking international law or photography."
"More lucrative, law, I'd say," said the photographer, with a chuckle.
"Depends on what you love to do, though, doesn't it?"
"I didn't enjoy school, but I have enjoyed work for every day for 25 years," he nodded.
"My son hates school. He's bright, but he can't stand it. I sometimes wonder how he will survive university, if they let him in. He might enjoy being a lawyer, but he might be better off doing what it sounds like he could love." We nodded together. I wished I could get Sam to come down and talk with him. I did go and try to get him, and I was right. He wouldn't come down. The covers up to his chin and Barcelona v Lyon on the little Philips had won out over "buy one, get one free" chicken wings and Manchester United v Inter Milan on the giant screen across the street at The Office.
His friend, who discovered what it is to fear losing one's life, or being seriously frightened and possibly quite mangled at high altitude is a professional commercial pilot.
Go figure.
Others, one day, there are no tales of adventure and danger exchanged by the fire in the comfortable chairs. They accept, rather, their place of rest in the cemetery of Argentière, where they know they might well come to rest. ....
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