Chateau Lavigny: perfect writers' residence

Read all about the Chateau de Lavigny in the village of Lavigny, near Morges, in Suisse Romande. The Fondation Ledig-Rowohlt is a memorial to the extraordinary German publisher Heinrich Maria Ledig-Rohwohlt, established by his equally extraordinary wife Jane. Since 1996, their home has been a writers' residence each summer.

The reality? I'm in bliss as a guest writer in this idyllic spot right now. 'Idyllic' hints, I hope, at the fact that this is almost too good (pretty, congenial, tranquil) to be true. I certainly haven't been saintly enough in this life to deserve it. Must have had a previous life as a goddess.



Classic writers-around-the-table photo, 7 pm get-together. Meet Paul La Farge, Uche Umezurike, Maud Casey, Sunny Singh, and Tatania, Sophie Kandaouroff and Martin Eriksen. Sophie, actor and film director, is also our on-the-spot manager and hostess. (I'm there too, honestly.)



View from the garden, across the Lac Leman to France, Mont Blanc, and Geneva.




Speaking of goddesses, the Goddess of Books is secreted in a mirrored cubby-hole along with LP records, romantic blurred and fading pictures of the great Jane Ledig-Rohwohlt, and a state-of-the-art 1960s record player. The external aesthetic serenity of the chateau and the entire village is one thing. Inside, extreme artefacts erupt, reflecting imagination and feverish fertility. Figures, for the man who published Albert Camus, Henry Miller, William Faulkner, Ernest Hemingway, Gunther Grass, Vladimir Nabokov, John Updike, Harold Pinter, Jean-Paul Sartre and the rest.




Since the theme of this blog is growing older, I hope you deduce that writers never stop writing. Perhaps we never die.

The quality of the end of life

Two weeks ago, a young family member survived her second heart attack. While we hope and believe she will live many years longer, she is arranging an enduring power of attorney, and exploring living wills and advance directives for doctors.

I discussed the latter two options with my son. He says (as a GP), the EPOA is crucial, but frank discussions with close family about various death-bed scenarios are worth far more than any written instructions. When healthy, we cannot predict which of 1,000 situations will be ours at the end of life. He said, just think about which faculties are indispensible, and which ones you could bear to live without.

My own attitudes have changed over time. I've gone from the "Put me down! I don't want to be a burden!" to realising that this request would itself be an unbearable burden for my children. That what seems unbearable to a 20-year-old may be tolerable to a 90-year-old.

Above all, I'd like my children's wishes to play a major part in making end-of-life decisions.

When my mother-in-law was young, she repeatedly said that death would be better than losing her mind. But when she lost her mind, she appeared to be as happy as Larry. Always a sweet-natured woman, she stayed that way.

If by bad luck someone must decide when to "pull the plug" on my life, I hope I will be completely unaware of the fact. If I'm aware, I hope that includes a certainty that my children must do what is right for them. They'll have my blessing.

Talk of "what Mum would have wanted" is ultimately sheer speculation, living will or no living will. I expect to adjust my opinion frequently, at times every day or every hour. I trust my children's empathy and communal common sense. And they don't have to be perfect! Nothing can negate our past happiness and shared experiences.

This morning, these thoughts came back into my mind, because dementia and Alzheimers were the topic of a moving documentary on Radio New Zealand.

A living will

When do I want to die?
When my body tells me to.

If I lose my words,
feed me music and birdsong.

If I lose my balance,
feed me videos of dancing.

If I lose my self,
show me children and the sea.

Feed me life until
I lose my appetite.

When do I want to die?
Let me go

before my crippled life
begins to cripple yours.

I have lived in joy.
Let me leave this life

before I lose
the memory of joy.

To be a poet in Switzerland

On May Day I got one of those dream emails, offering me a place as a Writer in Residence at the lovely Chateau de Lavigny, in Morges, near Lausanne in Switzerland. Look at it!

I am overjoyed for three reasons.

1. It's an honour and a privilege.

2. It's in Suisse Romande area, where I lived for four years in my youth. I went with my husband to Geneva nearly 50 years ago, where we popped out of our provincial bubble. We worked, played, ate, drank, skied, and sightsaw for all we were worth. We also had our first baby (Geoff) in Geneva. So this is a nostalgia trip for me, revisiting gorgeous places with strong emotional connections.

3. Bliss: 3 weeks in which to focus on writing. 3 weeks to live inside my own head and write, write, write... and think, think, think. 3 weeks without housework.

4. It's only 3 weeks, which suits me perfectly. I've enjoyed living in other countries (Switzerland, Australia and Japan) and I love short exotic holidays. But months in a writers' residence would not suit me at all.

5. Four other writers will be in residence at the same time so there'll be interesting talk with people who will seem both alien (all from different countries) and familiar (all writers).

So that's the news, folks! Good, ay? Now, 2 months to polish up my French.

Le Chateau de Lavigny

10 ways dancing keeps you young

The birthday of fabulous Jo fell on a Wednesday (Crows' rehearsal day) this year, and Sally baked a delicious cake. We raised our glasses after rehearsal to yet another triumphant year ahead.

Jo and Sally aren't old, but they are dancing in the direction of the much documented "young old".

Let me count the ways that Crows Feet dancing—and probably any regular dancing—keeps you young.

1. It strengthens your bones.
2. Improves your posture and therefore your figure.
3. Raises fitness and muscle tone.
4. Makes extra demands on your brain.
5. Improves your spatial sense and physical memory.
6. Charges you with adrenalin at performance time.
7. Raises expectations: the team depends on you.
8. Gives structure to your week, if you work and live alone.
9. Makes you wear outrageous costumes at least three times a year.
10. Provides a warm, supportive, fun social group.

Coffin put to good use: memento mori

Why spend money on a coffin that you'll never see, never knowingly use?

The owner of Hyde Central Hotel uses hers as a jolly green display stand.

Brilliant, and totally zen.

Otago Rail Trail bike ride: perfect

So, our bicycle tour of the Otago Rail Trail was perfectly wonderful. No surprise, as that's what everyone says.
~ Great big scenery all the way.
~ Four days of not-too-hot sunshine, half a day of wind gusts and rain sprinkles to remind us how lucky we'd been.
~ Very happy group of family and friends who enjoy one another's company.
~ Fun places to stay, lots of stops along the way.
~ All planning, bookings, decisions, management and bikes provided by the excellent Brian Farrant of New Zealand Bicycle Tours.
~ Just hard enough to make me feel proud, but so easy that children and many people my age and older were doing it.

nzbicycletours.com

Packing for the Otago Rail Trail bike ride

So, I've been packing for the great 70th birthday celebration with family and friends: the Otago Rail Trail bicycle tour.

I love packing. I love thinking about it, laying things out, choosing, rejecting, last minute panic because all my merino sweaters are dirty, dithering over shoes and jackets and t-shirts. I love almost forgetting something vital, like the camera, then remembering in the nick of time.

I love writing down the times when I have to get up, call the shuttle, and arrive at the airport. I love leaving things until it's almost too late. I love the last minute dash to a friend's house with a vase of water lilies that I can't bear to throw out.

How boring it would be to have employees to do all those chores. Preparing for travel is half the pleasure.

Now it's time to set the alarm and leap into bed.