Wine or milk?

 

 "As long as autumn lasts, I shall not have hands, canvas and colors enough to paint the beautiful things I see"

Vincent Van Gogh     

Early autumn has been lovely this year, with clear blue skies and late-summer sunshine for most of September. It’s always a busy month in rural France, as everyone seems to cram in as much as they can before winter arrives; they won’t pop their heads around the door now until the daffodils pop theirs out.

I mentioned to Tim that I would like to hire a cherry picker to trim our willow tree, as it is lounging rather than weeping. Tim gulped and said he doubted we would find one that went that high, which made the job sound far more daunting. We had a test run in Paris recently when we tried out the Generali Balloon, based in a park in Paris; it climbs to 150 meters. The view was amazing, and Tim seemed to handle it better than I did, though he did not have to wrestle with a gurgling chainsaw at the same time. As for the willow, it is still waiting patiently for its trim—cherry picker and all. Perhaps we will tackle it before the first frost, but for now, it remains on our never-ending to-do list.
  

Last night we attended a live band in a local town. I was sitting next to a charming French man who was watching the France v Italy football match on his phone at the same time. He commented that the band was typically French, but when they started playing, it was all English/American music that everyone sang and danced along to. I found myself swaying with the crowd and feeling completely absorbed in the evening's carefree mood. Music breaks down all language barriers, even with a very suspect version of “Venus”—that catchy pop song from the 1960s.

 

I recently read an article that described how French children were given wine at lunchtime in schools, and that it was encouraged until 1956. Even the ban that came into effect that year applied only to infants under the age of 14, and alcohol wasn’t banned from schools entirely until the 1980s. Older children (with their parents' consent) were allowed to continue drinking in the canteen, provided they did not consume more than 'one eighth of a litre per head'.

Photos show them casually choosing between red and white as normally as choosing between vanilla and chocolate ice cream. People believed alcohol killed microbes and helped when they had a cold; it was even supported through national advertising!. Many parents would place one alcoholic drink in their child's packed lunch, often half a litre of wine, cider or beer depending on the region. If head teachers disallowed it, some parents reportedly encouraged children to drink their wine with breakfast.

 It's such a stark contrast to my own school days, when a carton of lukewarm milk felt like a treat. It’s a good thing they didn't serve it to me, as I would've been asleep at my desk with my head in the inkwell for most of the afternoon. Wine at lunchtime is never a good idea; even as an adult, it ruins the rest of your afternoon. I can remember returning to the office after a long lunch (business one of course!) desperately trying to stay wake.

It may have helped me in my French lessons, where I spent most of the time staring out the window. If only I had known at fourteen that I would end up living in France, I might have concentrated harder in the lessons!