Do What You Can

If you are a right-thinking blog follower, you may have tried to access my refugee support page. It’s there, but the link is broken. No idea why.

The Ukrainiens have not yet reached Paris, so those links, which are to Paris-based groups, are not all that useful anyway. But the two million and counting, including over a hundred thousand unaccompanied minors, are going to go somewhere. The way things are shaping up, many will stay. During the months — years, if we’re talking about the kids — that they will need to sort out their lives, they’re going to need some help. As will the Afghans, etc. It’s a scary time, a dangerous world right now.

Everybody is saying give money and be sure to research your charity. Good advice, nothing I can add to that. But if you knit, consider the “Knitters for Ukraine” fund, which gives its money to the Red Cross. It was started by the Finnish magazine Laine, so it’s squeaky clean. Or even if you don’t knit, if you just like the anarchic weirdness of a bunch of folks banding together to knit Putin back to the Stone Age, go for it.

In fact in general, let’s face it, for the rest of our lives we will be dealing with refugees or worse, be refugees. To avoid compassion fatigue, we’re going to have to get creative about how we help. My thought is to choose one thing you already do or identify with — one action, one charity — and make doing it or donating to it a part of your life, now. Just normalize it.

Country Life Report

Here you go, faithful readers. Do I sit around all day reading the essays of Montaigne and sipping rosé? I do not. Well okay, sometimes, but today I’m chipping crepi from the barn wall. How cool is that?

Crepi is like stucco, except it’s thick and spread over stone instead of chicken wire. Every so often it starts to fall apart and should be replaced. But not here. The plan is to leave the stone exposed.

The money from the sale of the rental house has come in. Eight months to close the sale and about eight minutes to spend the proceeds. I have shutters that are being held in place with bungee cords: time for new shutters. I have this truly hideous hole in the wall, see above, that will become a larger and more sightly opening, maybe even with a garage door. The apartment roof is going green, in its own way, sprouting all manner of growth on the tiles: time for a new roof. And did I mention that the guy who took away my handrails never brought them back? So, new handrails at the stairs. A hefty tax payment. My summer kitchen. Trees in the front garden. Gravel drive and pathways. I do believe that’s all the money and then some.

The good news is, this work is cosmetic, basically all finishes and furnishings. Longer-suffering blog buddies surely remember the five-figure sums that were buried in walls and under floors. This time, you’ll see it. Or I’ll see it. You guys will be thinking yeah, so, a room with a pizza oven. Oh, well. I take my pleasure where I can.

While I was wandering around trying to figure out how to finance my ambitious to-do list, I noticed that the crepi was starting to fall off, all on its own. So, why not, I spent a couple of hours helping it, chipping off bits here and there. I could do more of that. It’s kind of fun. In the end I’ll have to hire someone to get the upper walls, but that’s later.

The good news is, summer may have arrived. It took its sweet time and this sad little bunch of grapes is an example of how my produce production has taken a hit. That said, grapes, the first from vines I planted maybe two or three years ago. The cherries are gone. I may have to adjust my expectations, just think of them as bird food. By way of thanks, maybe, they are now hopping around on the ground; I hope that means they are munching bugs. They ate every single cherry, there being nothing else available to them. So, okay….

The tomatoes are happily throwing out leaves, which Julien is dutifully chopping off. I might have half a dozen tiny tomatoes on two dozen plants. At this point everything else in the kitchen garden is just leaves. We shall see.

Fortunately birds don’t like apples, at least not so far. I also have just the beginnings of other fruit: peaches and plums, mainly. No apricots, figs or persimmons. The pomegranate? I don’t know, yet. Lots of pretty flowers, though.

And that’s the news.

the cash flow gods are smiling upon me

So it seems that no one in this town wants my money. Well, not nobody, but nobody in places where I thought I would need to spend it. My mechanic says my car is good to go; he didn’t charge for the time he took to look things over. Today the lady at the Apple store said eh, buy a phone in France; the unlocked phones are really too expensive. Then she showed me how to change the SIM card in my old phone. It’s not what I’m used to, for sure, but it’s certainly nice.