Le brioche

I laughed.
My log delivery man was cycling home at 21h30 in his dungarees, arms revealed, sweat exuding and puffing a little... so I made comment about how wonderful to be on the velo!  He wheeled around remembering his French manners to stop and shake hands.   I repeated as he listened carefully for he is deaf:  "J'ai dit que c'est tres bien que vous faisez le velo!" Probably incorrect but he understood... patted his belly and spoke about removing le brioche!
Ah.. I thought.....
I must get on my bike after all the winter eating and recent social eating with guests has left a deposit I am not pleased with! I never have been one to exercise!

That evening I'd had an hour and a half walk toute seule out into the countryside and back into town, taking pics on the way.
Under the mustard seed plants by the wayside I heard grunting sounds as if from piglets and a mother nesting.  At first thought,  it was the same sound as I hear in my attic on occasions... were they loirets?   But as I stood, camera at the ready, I considered that they might be baby pigs of wild boar, so I thought not to loiter looking at nature any longer and increased the speed of step... then thought further about whether it would be better to run or to turn and face them and charge if they should threaten me!  Either way it was scary and there were no dead tree branches at hand to wave in my defence!

Oh my... the joys of the French landscape.

I came across a solitary wild cherry tree at the margin of the same field, branches hanging heavily with fruit that no one had harvested... some needed a few more days to ripen.  Nevertheless, after squeezing the red jewels in my mouth for an evening dessert, I broke off one branch to enjoy fresh cherries in abundance as I walked, for it was approaching 'le crépuscule', spitting out stones along the way, imagining a line of cherry trees in future years! Green walnuts are forming on the trees. Honeysuckle fragrance hung heavily in the air tempting large bottomed bumble bees.

The next day I wrote a poem!

But this is a different impromptu one!

In twenty four hours there have been
seen from the west approaching,
three huge thunderous storms rolling,
sheet lightning, mumbling, rumbling,
disturbing my day tasks and sleep.
I closed grey shutters to keep the light show smashing
through the window into my darkness
as I lay with a friend on the telephone speaking!
My grey shutters protect me and help me feel less scared
as the CRASH was immediately overhead!
Big Feet and I - we were comforted!

Chatellerault shop exterior

 

I have been meaning to capture this Quincaillerie exterior for the last 9 years. 

Now I see it has closed!

It is just to the side of the food market.

It has something (je ne sais quoi) about the colours, the sign-writing, the symmetry!

Nifty Electric Vehicles

It's the first time I have seen these anywhere at all.

Click on that first sentence to take you to the French newspaper article.

They were parked on Boulevard Blossac one way system near the Bandstand and Church.

(proche le Musique-Podium et Église)

Parisians and Pink Champagne

How lovely to entertain for aperos, have everything prepared and then to be given a bottle of pink champagne which I insisted we open.
I know nothing of Champagne except I really liked this one ( photo later )

Now aperos in France means different things to different people at different times of the day and one can never be sure of what it all means. Sometimes one is invited for pre-dinner drinkypoos and another time one is invited to a full scale meal, as that which happened in Bretagne some years ago with my cousin. We arrived at the French friend's house and discovered we were under-dressed...it was a Sunday,  and instead of 'une heure' we were there for 7 hours indulging in one of  the most amazing and memorable meals I have ever been delighted to indulge in.  Fortunately, she and I were not driving!
And so...
In this case two boys, aged 7 and almost 4, who do not go to sleep until 10pm, were to arrive at 7.30pm, because not knowing what to do I gave the family the option on time of arrival. They were only 10 mins late and that is correct in French society!  I hedged my bets and provided a range of nuts, goats cheese, fresh apricots, olives, the best tomatoes, rocket and lettuce from my garden, a stilton and walnut tart with my own made pastry,  plus chocolate cakes in cases for the boys. The youngest person told his parents he loved aperos and was clearly hungry.  He tucked into the pistachios and then the quiche before anyone else and exclaimed how good it was... then he was told to tell me ... as I was the cook!
We were all appreciative of the food and drink. I then opened a bottle of Chinon and later offered tea which was very welcomed.  He asked for spicy tea and voila I have Chai.  Brilliant!
It was a cooler evening but M wished to stay outdoors as long as possible. However, once the dusk and bats had settled for night, we moved indoors, where the boys were drawing and listening to JS Bach 'cello suites. Such a lovely family.  It has taken me two years to return the favour, when New Friend and I were invited to the neighbours' garden for aperos one August.  This was because I always asked them to come just before they had to return to Paris.
This time it has taken a few weeks to get the date, but at last it was my pleasure to give and it was such a successful and easy evening.  I was glad to have made the effort.

Home

Home again to the house in a French village where my heart, without much forethought, landed.
Back from my spiritual, ancestral Home in East Anglia where the Suffolk, Norfolk beaches as well as Sussex coastal paths, call me to watch waves, listen to the pummeling of the sea against the pebbles as I walk against the wind and yearn for whatever it is that beckons as I look to the horizon.

Home alone again. Distant are dearest friends and family.
Missing much,  yet as I post, I'm only 36 hrs on terra franca,  having said 'Hello' to my lovely house just 12 hrs ago.  I had a wonderful time but without enough time to be with those I love. Life is good.

For my return journey I booked a hotel at Boulogne-sur-mer only to arrive and discover the booking had been cancelled. However, a room was provided and I entered the cool room, closed the door behind me only to think "o - oh".  With Goldilocks eyes getting wider and wider I realised someone had been sleeping in the bed ... (my luck was not in!).   The next room had a self-flushing toilet. The French system sometimes does this. I waited more than a few moments after the third visit to the reception desk, desperate to fall into bed all by myself, until the MAN came and stopped the waterfall rushing down the pan.  I needed to slow my mind after 9 hours of journeying in HOTHOT weather.

It is 50 years since I walked the ramparts of the Boulogne fortified village.  I was a schoolgirl on a French language improving visit.  On the return ferry I experienced a first kiss; a first french kiss with a sweet but forward French boy, whilst the gang of my girl friends who'd pushed me into him cheered me on!!!!!  I was naive before that and for many years afterwards, not realising the power one can inadvertently have, but now, at last, I have grown up! Those were the days my friend!

At Étaples I had THE most wonderful dish of HOT moules and frites for an early lunch following an expresso coffee.  Unusual for me! Then I abandoned all DESIRE to walk on a French plage as traffic and heat was unprecedented.  Quick! ... to the autoroute, where travelling was a breeze. Bienvenue to HEAT. May it please LAST. I love it hot even if I do have be in a cool room for some of the time.

I can't believe I am living solo such a long way from anyone and of course my grand daughter, dear friends and family.  However, onwards and upwards as someone says. There is so much to do but I don't work at a mile a minute any more!  I wish to be out and about, travelling like Toad, but I must control the twitchy feet for the semi-nomadic lifestyle of which I dream and enjoy HOME and finish the paintwork, until I've assessed the damage to the budget!

Wild Country requires Wild Life

                             

This is the tent I bought last year and used recently on the Ile de Ré.  It's an amazing tent, really quick to establish a snugasabug home on sandy soil.  It has an inner and outer tent. You stake out the floor plan then insert the hooped rods, stake the cords and that's it. Of course it needs a little adjustment as the sand shifts. It's lightweight and great for me!  Little old me reckoned there could be space for some Wildlife in a Wild Country tent!! Wishful thinking! My only criticism was that after a few days it seemed to develop a lot of moisture on the inside of the outer tent, even though one was in the shade of the fir trees. However, humidity levels on the island had gone from WET to steamy hot (woops ... ) even though the westerly WIND was strong.  I managed to get a wind tan whilst cycling when the sun shone HOT.  Before that a rain mac and sunglassses were necessary! The light was bright. I long to go back as I felt at home walking on the beach, tide out, tide in. Of course with family roots from Saintonge maybe that is why! Take a wallet as the eating experience is not inexpensive but amazing! Look at the paella!

English Tea Shop in Angles sur L'Anglin

On the second day of opening Number 15, a Salon de Thé, I sampled green grapefruit tea with an English scone.  Although I make my own there is something very civilised eating one with cream and strawberry jam after a drizzly, morning walk.
With English wallpaper and decor,  a welcoming greeting and a wonderful ambience, the new owners, Nick and Nadia, who, as they say, are on a steep learning curve, provide a little piece of HOME for an expat! or a little English culture for a French resident!
The room is beautifully presented in muted creams and greens with roses in vases on the tables.
The Nina Campbell birdcage wallpaper is a delight as is the pink crockery with tea cups and saucers featuring birdcages.
I wish them every success for the season and hope they may be sometimes open in the Winter!
Postscript:
Cross the bridge to the Low Town and it is on the left! In fact, it has been open for about a month but I have been slow to post!  They serve lunches and beers.
Today I sampled another cream scone AND a chocolate cupcake breaking all my rules as I had been cycling but not far! The sun was shiningly hot. I sat and meditated on how life can be bliss if one does not worry!!!!!!!
I would be delighted to accompany anyone especially if a sturdy walk before or afterwards could be incorporated.  

Finding a gift

For my son and his wife's first wedding anniversary I found two cotton hearts of counted threadwork as created in my village.

 Les Jours d'Angles ... has existed since about 1850 in this village, where women spent their days pulling threads from silk, cotton, linen and then with needle and thread binding other threads together to form a marquetry of design.  It was used to decorate lingerie as well as other clothing, tablecloths etc...  Today the art is being promoted and protected as PATRIMOINE. You can see women working at the Office du Tourisme and also they offer lessons to those who have the fine point skills and patience for such work. Not I!

A Beautful Party with Candles and Cheese

A beautiful party.

In a beautiful setting.

Magic. Féerique.

Like a magical fairy tale.

On arrival one gave one’s cheese and one’s candle to the organizers. 
People made themselves scarce whilst important others made arrangements. I explored the natural beauty of La Distillerie, St Pierre de Maille, an events centre for music, arts, wedding feasts, etcetera.

Nightingales, cuckoos, other birds and frogs or toads were in abundance. A dog chased a duck, which managed to escape with much quacking and flapping. It was chastised.  By wandering around the lake I began to understand what was going to happen.

As guests we were invited to one room for pre-evening drinks. Chatter was accompanied by French melodies. Then we had to secrete ourselves.  No voices, which was difficult because the people I joined, whom I have not seen for several years, who are so funny, kept making froggy and birdy sounds with ribald comments that I did not understand!

Francois is 60.  He was brought blindfold to the lake where he boarded  ‘une barque’ to be punted around the lake in the dark, between the ribbon of fairy lights strewn on the water’s surface, until his family, who were hidden behind willow trees and reeds burst into the Happy Birthday song in French.  We guests were instructed to remain silent until they had finished when we were to hear a lone voice singing the first Joyeux Anniversaire and hear a second lone Joyeux Anniversaire.  Then we were to join in, reveal ourselves by lighting candles that we had previously collected from the oil lamps surrounding the lake. There weren’t any solo voices but everyone joined in with gusto singing several times as the song lapped around the lake.  Silence … as we picked our way by moonlight and candle light careful not to ditch down the bank! I had the urge to sing in English so I started and at the second Happy Birthday everyone joined in, in English!  

We proceeded to the front of the lake where we sat down.  Sat down seated on logs or blankets between more candles to listen to the storyteller. There were two barques with two punters in traditional costumed dress, as was the storyteller. He proceeded to tell the story of La Rochette …a little rock… and how this man, who owns this name, came to be born, and where and how he arrived at La Rochette where he once lived, and how he arrived now here at this historical event, for in his life he had been a Gallic weaver, a medieval weaver, a woodcarver, a keeper of the Arts and Crafts, a medieval dancer.  He was overawed.  One would be!

Lots of praise and love issued forth to him from his family and friends. He is a lovely man, gentle, who, I think would wish no unkindness on any soul or creature. One only sees the public man. He and his wife have been good friends for 8 years now, patient, helping the friend and I to integrate into part of the French culture.




After ‘le spectacle du nuit’ we processed to the dining room, where long tables of 12 or more places were laid with creamy white cloths and yellow wild flowers…

Then we commenced to eat. People chose from the buffet, not waiting for everyone to be seated which is what I think we would do in UK!  I was not sure where to sit, and feeling a panic rising, eventually tucked myself onto the corner of a table, centrally facing the buffet and a screen where later photographs of the younger François were beamed.

Whilst people ate, I played three pieces on my accordion:

Autumn Leaves – 
Sous le Ciel de Paris – 
Under the Bridges of Paris -

Then the hurdy gurdy man and his violin wife again played French dance tunes… feet tapping, people dancing. I joined the spiral dance except didn’t spiral for we only circumnavigated the tables. 3 steps and a foot gesture repeated 3 times, then 2 lots of 2 and 2 lots of 1. A progressive dance. SIMPLE FUN!

After that Thomas serenaded François with Bach ‘cello pieces without music. Exquisite! Later cds of modern music. I distinctly remember Sweet Home Alabama by Lynnrd Skynnrd – a favourite song for me!  A small nucleus danced and laughed until 3am when I thought I’d better take my personal being back on home. Tables were cleared. Many had already departed some time back!

Well … we ate radishes, salads, a choice of three soups (nettle, carrot, radish and ginger).   There were so many cheeses to die for!!!!!!!!!! Baguette was largely ignored, especially when I found better bread.  I believe that I witness a French movement away from the traditional baguette. Then tiramisu cake (oh wow)  and a white chocolate cake for the children, but there was a little left to sample. Gateau was served with a grapefruit champagne. Coffee. Red wine to start, continue and finish! Plenty of water jugs on the table. The French certainly tucked in. There were 70 guests and evidently apx one litre of alcohol per person was consumed!

What a party. So spectacular! So beautifully organized.  Joyeux Anniversaire à François!

It was the first French party I have ever been to, at which, I was the only English person. I was very appreciative of my invitation and surprised to count more than 10 French people to say a little more than Hello and a smile to.   I felt as if perhaps “I had arrived” as they say. After the long haul of winter, sunshine in my heart has returned. I’ll have to accept there is just one I can direct it to. C’est moi.