94.

April 21st.

Along the lanes the pale planes, pollarded exquisitely so that they are dancers, are twisting and reaching elegantly upwards. The pinkish haze that was the oaks' first leaf has turned to pale green, covering the lower mountain slopes. Fresh with the deep blue of the spruce.

I`m on a shopping spree with Syvie who has had difficulty getting into the van. My legs won't climb any more she huffs. She searches the rails for the most frilled, the most emerald or purple or bouffant of blouses and then states that they are too expensive. 'Sarkozy dit qu'il faut travailler plus pour gagner plus,' she and the shop owner chant; they know each other. Cackling and chuckling, a shirt with large sprigs of some pink and purple flower is chosen, tried and proudly purchased. 'Sarkozy says to have more money you gotta work harder', they repeat the refrain and leave me out of the joke.
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