This time we headed down part of a path she’d done before, but I hadn’t been on. Some truffle hunters were in the woods at one point, and since Mom and I were very curious we almost went over to ask them if we could see a truffle, but chickened out. We didn’t want to be rude or anything, and with the price and scarcity of truffles maybe they wouldn’t like us intruding. It’s tempting to try and find some ourselves (Alan even poked around the bottom of a tree once) but we really don’t have a clue, it just seems exciting! I’ve been reading a book called From here, you can’t see Paris by Michael Sanders, an American writer who moved with his family to France to write about a French restaurant in a small town (it’s a good read, by the by, if you want to learn about France and food), and he has a chapter on truffles; I guess there is supposed to be a bare spot on the ground under the tree, where the truffles kill off grass and weeds, and that is where you look. So I’ll keep my eyes peeled next time I am in the woods!
I love coming down a rough dirt road and rounding a corner to come smack up against a tennis court and huge electric gates; it seems so ironic, and yet they do such a good job of hiding that you hardly know the huge house is there till your upon it. One we found has a nice looking chapel in its vineyard, but you can’t get to it to see inside. Another house had two donkeys and a sheep that regarded us with interest; walking with Mom will end you up in some odd places!
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