Sainte Foy La Grande is a charming village so small that
it does not even have a daily newspaper.

I spent three lovely days there, playing football (soccer)
in the playground with some of the local children.
[sorry no photos].  They were very friendly and fun,
but a little violent amongst themselves.  And the boys
would have nothing to do with the girls, which was
a disappointment to me.  But the soccer was a blast.

Here's a photo of three young gypsies whom I met.
They told me many interesting things about gypsy
life, e.g., In order to become an adult member of the
tribe, you must steal something.  "Like a car?", I asked.
No, they said, something small -- a token, if you will.

That's Elodie in the middle.

Also, I visited the local cemetery.  A great French writer
once said:

    To gain perspective on life, one should live at least one
    year of one's life in a room overlooking a cemetery.

This was atop a giant cement box of the Famille Degraeve.
It translates to: "Today me, tomorrow you."

I like what time and water did to this tombstone,
marking the passage of a 4 year old girl.

The book of life
Is the book supreme
That one may neither close
Nor reopen at one's choice,
One would like to return
To the page where one loves,
But the page where one dies
Is already under our fingers.

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