Cycles

Hi, it’s Sharon again, writing my last guest blobspot as Frank and I depart tomorrow morning for Ottawa. It will be a long day of travel – Tullins, Lyons, London, Ottawa.
Fatigue, as Kirstin has reminded me several times, can be a good thing, especially when it’s well earned and no matter how one exhausted one feels the next day. The means of the fatigue is actually good for one’s mental health and general well-being. We had a slow, relaxed start today after having had an evening meal out in Grenoble last night where we overindulged in not only cheese but also chocolate fondue.
By the time Greg surfaced this morning, Frank had already done a number of errands and was tackling a few remaining jobs on his list. What started as an uneventful day became something else – in that delightful way in which serendipitous things just happen in the most unexpected way. Greg and Frank wandered outside to discuss a few projects and possibilities. Glancing through the window later, I noticed Greg pushing the wheelbarrow! Meanwhile, Kirstin was busy preparing a real French cassoulet for our last meal together. As any of you know who’ve tasted this amazing dish, it is nothing like so simple as opening a can of baked beans and adding a few sausages, a warning against which Elizabeth David, the doyen of cooks, mentions in her recipe discussions.
After some time, Greg invited us to come outside and observe something as yet unspecified– the reality of which remained to be seen.
First we were shown the inner workings of the ancient wine press which sits out in the yard not far from the bird feeder table and G and K’s bedroom window. But this perusal of the press’s innards was not enough, so we were then treated to the next discovery of wondrous proportions. For those of you British people who have had the pleasure of viewing the BBC television production entitled Fred Dibnah’s Industrial Age, Kirstin and I had own our private viewing of a most wondrous piece of engineering that slowly revealed its hidden treasures. Greg and Frank explained how they had slowly put together an apparent piece of junk lying about in the garden, realizing that it was the top part of the wine press mechanism. They oiled it, and moved odd-shaped pieces around to get the gizmo to work properly, slowly discovering for their engineering selves just how and why the levers and handles, cogs and gear wheels worked as they did. It was really like a private session with Fred Dibnah, all the more enjoyable because we’ve been watching him on several past evenings, and now had our own show! All that remains of that job is to move the few tons of this mechanism over to the existing winepress, reconstruct the rotten wooden slats, and lift it onto the drive shaft. Obviously it’s a job that awaits another visit, as well as some consultations with some old fellow who remembers the ancient days and ways.
While Kirstin and I continued our garden stroll, I glanced over at the barn and to our silent amazement, Greg wheeled out a bike that Frank had been riding earlier, hopped on it and rode around the garden, quickly threading his way through the willow branches and out again. His only comment was a somewhat surprised “that was easy”. I have got to admit that I was not overly surprised to see this brief bike sortie for a number of reasons. I’d brought Greg one of Lance Armstrong’s books, and he was already reading the other one. Frank had been out biking and frankly the flat back roads around Pré Borel are perfect for some quiet workouts. I didn’t think it would be too long before Greg would want to try out his bike in such safe road conditions that would really challenge his mobility skills. I just didn’t expect it would be today!
For the rest of the afternoon, Greg supervised Frank’s digging in the garden while they waited for enough darkness to test the motion detector’s light.
Dinner, need I say, was delicious. However, the moment the plates were clean both Greg and Kirstin retired to the kitchen couch for a rest, while I prepared a special Epiphany Day dessert. Yes, I know it was a day late but as was mentioned earlier, we were out partying last night. Now, the second stage of our meal is ready so...
We’re going to play a new game called Blokus to conclude our last evening together for now. Greg had to trade the pale yellow tiles for a brighter colour but played manfully well for all his limitations. His brain was definitely up to the challenge.
Frank and I won’t be here tomorrow to see how tired Greg and Kirstin are from all of today’s activities but we can be confident that they, and we, will have spent an entertaining, instructive and memorable time. Certain kinds of fatigue, as Kirstin reminds us, are precious and valuable beyond words.

Sharon