Le Granit Rose

La belle Bretagne!
Whilst in Bretagne my bucket list dictated that I visit the 'pink granite' rocks. Wow! My cousin and I were bowled over with boulders! Voluptuous creations thrown about by previous volcanic forces, sculpted, shaped and moulded by the sea, salt and winds are piled up high, to balance without shifting. When the light was right, an evening sun created a pink glow... crystals in rocks glistened an orange hue in contrast to lime-green seaweed and grass-green landweed.  The pale blue hues, turquoise and navy of the sea ebbed in and out. Tonal colours captured by the light but not by me!

 

Tide out

The lifeboat slipway

WELL..........all those gigantic rounded boulders reminded me of Bunbeg and Derrybeg on an Irish shore where boulders decreasing in size descended from land to sea.  I was then in awe with no internet to research why and wherefore.  
Do I yearn to revisit a place where I have not been for 35 years and more?
Do I yearn to explore more of the Côte de Granit Rose?
Yes I do!

Joy in Abundance

My cousin Anne has a friend who grows flowers to sell at local markets. She specialises in Pinks and Peonies. Her name is Jo. I met her many years ago - a delightful person.  I could not resist the purchase of peonies for my cousin who gained enormous pleasure from seeing them on her table everyday for the week that I was there. Their perfume was so delicate...

L'Auberge du Capucin Gourmand

A follow-up to previous posting.

At the heart of the region Berry, there is a region called La Brenne, a National Park within the land of a thousand man-made 'ponds'.  Possibly peat was dug out by monks and others.
This is a wonderful gastronomic restaurant, par excellence!
The food and its presentation is exquisitely divine!  The menu derives from ancient recipes from the region.  The hare features in the logo and in the menu! Local produce and local wine is used wherever possible. The aim is that all ingredients are seasonal! The chef was telling us about the impossibility of acquiring certain river and sea foods in France that once were plentiful - even frog's legs he says are imported! I think I understood him correctly. Excellent service and a joy to sense pleasure when waitresses describe what is on our plate as it is presented before us!

Framboises avec caramel

June retrospective

In June I have again been flying solo.
After 5 months without seeing my former partner I spent 4 weeks helping to prepare his move,  then a month in UK, then a good six weeks helping him again. Yet, he also was helping me in those months from March to end of May. A fair exchange! He's gone travelling with 10kg in his backpack to Asia, yet thinks he is a minimalist. Hey ho his stuff is left chez moi!  The joke is clear to me and family!
Anyway, I would need extra footwear as well as the kitchen sink in my backpack so he really is earning brownie points. Maybe he will return a changed man.

Meanwhile, Big Feet, OUR cat, who became HIS cat is now HER cat and seems to think she is in heaven.  She is very demanding!  Evidently, neighbours say she travels a great distance!  I find it remarkable that she can exit the house to the rear garden and appear in the front courtyard. Cats scale roofs. Maybe she climbs the shed roofs to the neighbour's field, trots along the road and leaps the eight feet high large brown gate and/ stone wall!  I love intelligent cats!  She is aged 13 plus!

This post is really intended to be about the meal I was invited to by my dear friends. I vowed to have two starters, but at this type of restaurant the proprietors would not have understood.  Please see the posting after this one! For four courses and three 'mise en bouche' who can complain at a 25 euro menu? Even though we divided the bill it cost me 50 euros 'en totale' on account of aperitifs plus three bottles of wine chosen by mine host... the last was extremely delicious!  Maybe that was the one that was 30e! The whole meal was fantastic! No complaints except that C. had 'un bestiole' in her raspberry! The proprietor brought another!  I decided that it would be my own private way of celebrating the fact that I have lived in this house for four years.  I missed the celebration on April 30th, for it was no fun with no one!
So, here we go!

Smoked carp, beetroot something and cheese straws. Mein Gott it was delicious.

Melon soup with spices, nutmeg and sprouted garlic seeds. Divine!

The starter - 4 filleted breasts of quail with asparagus, garlic sprouts and a fine red cabbage salad!
Imagine filleting two little birds!

Raspberry on ice - to clear the palate!

The sweetest ever beef cooked to la point with vegetables including chard, courgette, carrots, onion.
Even peas have been artfully arranged with love!

We are in the dark when dessert arrives ... apricots in a fine frangipane! Heaven!

After our just desserts was coffee, French style of course. Returning to chez eux, JC serves Baileys coffee in a giant mug!  It is known that restaurants make a necessary profit on the sale of alcohol.  At first I didn't wish to have a starter but the proprietress offered me a cocktail sans alcohol.  Feeling holier than thou, I asked for water but the decision changed to a Kir! I prefer not to mix drinks these days! One grape me! However, I think the Bailey's coffee served by J-C near midnight caused the 35 year old tummy issues to surface but worryingly it was not too bad. I just stayed in bed until 11h when I knew I was recuperated. Other than that we had three bottles of wine between five persons where glasses were always filled by the proprietress over a period of three to four hour meal! Between 8pm and 1am I enjoyed the company of my friends and theirs whilst Workawayers babysat.. for that has often been my role when my friends wish to go to this Michelin restaurant. See next posting!

Ile de Noirmoutier

This is a charming island of France. It's just that I was tired from a long drive from Bretagne - my car and I get ever slower! - therefore the camping experience and being alone without a bike in extremely hot weather colluded against me exploring and having fun.  For me it seemed that cyclism as tourism was better catered for in the Ile de Re.  I also thought that the Ile de Noirmoutier lacked the magic of Ile de Re. Maybe I need to spend more time looking at the architecture and landscape. 
Of course, these islands are first and foremost important agricultural and maricultural regions, essential environments cared for by farmers of land and sea for salt, potatoes, mussels, oysters, fish and much more. They have also become regions where flora and fauna, especially birds are protected. Tourism is an off-shoot or add-on which either helps or hinders their livelihoods.
I love the approach onto the island, the colours and the ah factor.  Although I would like to explore it further, there are so many other places to see that I think I will have to move onto another island! 

 

St John's Eve and Midsummer

In France, the "Fête de la Saint-Jean" is traditionally celebrated with bonfires, reminiscent of Midsummer's pagan rituals. It is also a catholic festivity in celebration of the birth of Saint John the Baptist.  Click here and the link will provide more information.
It takes place on June 24, on Midsummer day (St John's day). In French towns, a tall bonfire is built  to be lit on St John's Day.  Sambucus canadensis is a goddess tree.

Some traditions say that Elder is a strong protection against dark magic, and if elder twigs are collected on St John's Eve they will protect against bad luck that may surround Twelfth Night celebrations. Growing an elder in your garden will protect your property from misfortune and harm. 

There is an elder tree growing halfway along my washing line.  I never know when to prune it to create flowers for the following summer. Currently, the leaves are covered with blackfly, so washing up water will have to be a treatment!  I cannot ever remove the elder tree from my garden! My mindfulness is because when I was married we bought a house that we could ill afford.  And in the garden of this house, which was in a sorry state of repair, was an elder tree and he and I cut it down - therein began troubles!   So I am superstitious!
We'd borrowed money from his stepfather - a loan without interest (a folly) ...we couldn't afford repayments when I became unemployed to have a first child when at the same time his self-employment and partnership failed!  The loan was eventually repaid when we divorced. The grandmother and step grandfather refused to see their grandchildren unless it was with the father which rarely happened. Family divisions!  Such a deprivation for all concerned!
After we were re-housed as the bedrooms were below zero in one of the worst winters known and there were cracks in the house walls,  the house was eventually sold to a man who sadly committed suicide in the garden of that house!  The profit from the sale of the house went towards purchasing my own property so that the kids had a better lifestyle. I managed to free myself from council house status which I was so grateful for!  It was hard to pay for the mortgage but I was eventually grateful that there was no contribution from the father. One day my children will inherit 50% each! Every other penny in my life has been earned or came to me through legitimate family inheritance. 

Now as a parent of a son and a daughter and a grandparent of her daughter, I am an elder... like an elder tree, but certainly never a goddess!  Life needs to be good and magical without black fly and troubles descending!

A Missed Opportunity

Some 10 days later, I am still kicking myself that I did not follow the beautiful silver Peugeot coupé cabriolet (I know nothing about cars except this one exuded style!) with its stunning dark-haired, dark-tanned man, who, when he had overtaken me, turned his head many times whilst looking in his mirror, waving almost continuously, in that enthusiastic "hello" manner as opposed to a 'there is something wrong' mannerism.  I happily waved back several times ... 'cos oh... he was sooooooo.... nice!  I was amused that at my age, whilst driving along happily minding my own business,  that a man could be so definitely attracted to me and attractive! ... but then we came to a roundabout junction!  He was in the left lane and I was in the right (French roundabout!) as we slowed. Then he indicated left and I indicated right, braking a little so as not to be alongside him. I considered following him but had not the courage!  We were now waving Adieu ... oh foolish woman ... I am sure he was a little younger than me but we saw enough to realise 'a chemistry and connection'.  I am sure he clocked my age and my 13 year old Clio!
I was disappointed for a long time on my journey across rural France to Bretagne.  I think we were at Chateau-Gontier. I was heading for Laval! The fantasy of what could have happened if he had followed me or if I had followed him still lingers on!  It wasn't a hoax.  One could tell!  It is another example of when I should trust my intuition but when driving, an instant decision has to be made! The path was taken - the opportunity missed! Hey ho!

A Camping Conundrum

I deliberately drove to the farthest point of the Île de Noirmoutier following my research that there was a campsite at La Pointe.  It was at a later time than I intended because I got lost at Vannes. Others were also mystified, poring over maps because there were no French signposts on roads developed in the last few years for going south-east!  Lost again at St Nazaire, which was my fault when I followed 'port' instead of 'pont'!!!   My excuse was that my glasses were smeared with sweat from thirty degree plus heat without air con in my little Clio!

I enjoyed pitching my tent... it only takes a few minutes... then I walked across to the headland and beach with sea in three directions!  A shower before a walk to find an evening meal but as the prices seemed heady, I decided to have a beach-picnic of cheeses, cherries and a bottle of screwtop wine, which because of the heat was not imbibed!  I read my book, feeling uneasy!  For when I got the food and picnic-blanket out of my car boot I sensed something be being watched by the man who sat at a table!  I'd said Bonsoir and he did too. I am 'Polite in France'. Rods were propped by the tree! Realising vulnerability I tried to set the mind-thoughts aside, letting go the idea to move pitch!  When I noted that he had disappeared I went to bed early to read inside my tent.  Maybe he had gone fishing!
I am sometimes extremely paranoid but these days do listen to intuition and I try hard not to get afraid! I had already spoken to a lovely French couple so am not adverse to speaking to strangers!
Well... the funny part of this story is that I didn't get much sleep.  I had to keep rational by saying a mantra of "I am OK...I am safe...I will be safe!" as fully clothed under my silk duvet, I clutched the wooden mallet in one hand and the car key in the other,  having already secured the outer tent zip from the inside with a tent peg!  Halfway through the night I decided to wear my sandals for a quick escape!  PARANOIA. ACUTE ANXIETY. EXTREME IMAGINATION. FEAR. Call it what you will!   The truth is that I believed untrue thinking and scared myself in doing so. When I managed to break those thoughts I definitely slept a little1 One has to feel the fear but get rid of it or it just eats away!

During the night I heard two things falling from the tree onto my car.  Branches? The wind was another reason for my alert wakeful state, as it flutttered the not-so-taut-tent-textile!  Restless in France most certainly!  Imagine my horror when I returned from the shower at 7h30 the next morning! Some bird or birds had dropped two huge dollops on my bonnet and the mess was wriggling with maggots!  That did it!  Decision as to what to do that day was made! Up came the tent! I moved the car to the sanitary block and with a bucket, hot water and an old sock found behind the washing machine, cleaned up and moved on out!  Whilst I waited patiently reading ready to pay at the 'Acceuil' office which opened at 8h30, THAT wretched fisherman drove past, scrutinising me.  It felt uncomfortable as if maggots were writhing under MY skin!  ugh!
No, this was not funny, as I'd paid 15 euros for an unpleasant experience when it was supposed to be idyllic!  I am never returning there!

Not a soul

at nine thirty in the evening.

Garden pictures

First earlies and the next

Waiting for Van Gogh

To harvest for winter

Stone-age profile

Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, plus

Sunflowers

 Planted last week

Courgettes

Radishes

Self seeded Poppies...number five to arrive

Self seeded Digitalis

On track ..

Following the posting Seeing the Beauty,  here are train tracks enjoyed in my life time.  I know there are more!

The Little Train of the Caipira by Villa-Lobos depicts a train journey... it's a Toccata from the Italian Toccare meaning To touch.

My History
When I was a teacher, I devised an art and music lesson for my 6 to 8 year old children. From an old BBC Radio Schools Radio magazine which we ordered to support the listening of such programmes, I told the story linked to specific bars of music. When I read the score and heard it at the same time I could say... "now the train is ..... "  The children always listened intently whenever I played them classical or other music.  Most probably because it was alien to their life experience.  I loved watching their faces...
For this lesson each child received a piece of coloured 'sugar paper' (was it called this because it used to wrap sugar?)  It was almost A2 size... we used to halve the sheets which were usually a pale coloured blue, green, yellow, pink. There were certain colours, like grey and sludgy beige, that teachers didn't want to use...then the tattered and torn sheets that teachers left for someone else to tidy up!  Later, manufacturers produced bright colours like magenta!
Whilst the children listened again and again to the cassette tape or vinyl in those days, they would draw using acrylic or oil pastels.  I showed them a few techniques on how to use pastels... this I invented!!!!  We sealed their drawings with hair spray! The results from the children were fantastic! Creativity flowed through their Brazilian forests and their artwork matched the music perfectly!

Then I remembered that when I was little my sister and I enjoyed listening to Uncle Mac on BBC Radio 2(see Tim's comment below...my memory for facts is not so good), I think it was, as well as the  The Runaway Train went over the hill and she blew...
My sister and I always used to giggle when the expletive was deleted! It drew less attention if it was ignored! Didn't grown ups realise we had minds as well as ears!

Then that led me to remember The Ballad of Casey Jones. The Grateful Dead published their version of the song in 1970.
I used to teach 11 to 13 year old at a Middle School ... those fishing port 'kids' were quite unruly but seemed to enjoy singing. Music lessons gave the class teacher 'free time' and reprieve from the children's antics!  Most 'kids' didn't much like having music lessons so you could guess the drama!
The secretary printed my handwritten words using a BANDA machine!  You had to use special copy paper which had a blue or black backing.  I loved the smell. I suppose it was a from of methys that was used! I know that the windows had to be opened every time we used the machine ... the handle had to be turned and you could chat to the secretary at the same time watching the numbers whizz round to 30.  Sometimes we had more than 30 kids in a class and at that age they towered above me!
I taught quite a few folk songs because I used my own music books. Mostly in schools was music from fifty years (or so it seemed to me) previous to the 1970s and 1980s!  However, there were some radio music booklets available but only contained the words... so I would have to find the piano music. I detested singing with the radio music when it was much more fun for me and the kids for me to play the piano. I used to slow down and speed up so that they had to keep in time and then I would congratulate those that did! call out their names over the music or just ask x or y to sing the next verse and that made the whole class laugh! At that time we had a brilliant Music Adviser,  David Ingate.  He was great fun when he came to inspect or just drop in... the children loved him to play. He wound them up and then left us with a whirl and in great humour! He was old school but embraced modern methods and I believe he had a lot of respect for the way I was teaching music. I had much respect for him too for he was being forced away from MUSIC to general inspection and who needed that!

I  was at the cutting edge of progressive music teaching. Kids as young as six composed in the classroom...my lessons taught us to listen to and respect someone's attempts to play... maybe one hit on an instrument... or a mad crash, wallop and bang to those who displayed rhythm and melody, who were well co-ordinated.  There wasn't just singing in the classroom. Each child had an instrument!
It wasn't only about music.. but was about self, others, the world and it embraced all subjects as well language. Music is a language!

Oh my gosh that's probably about the first time I have thought positively or written about teaching in the ten years in which I have been retired.  Maybe now I am healed of that trauma when I believe I was treated unfairly.  But what goes around, comes around and I probably was due for 'punishment' for my own naive and vulnerable non-mature, non-adult behaviour when I was over-stressed, over-worked and with no one to advise me on the BIG PICTURE of what was happening! 
Before the days of accessible internet there was no help if one was largely in isolation from friends and family.   That's how it was and this is how it is......... 
So... let's get back on track with SLOW TRAIN COMING by BOB DYLAN.  I have the vinyl LP..., loved him and his music... and still do!
and one always loves Joni Mitchell
I could be here all day thinking of and playing train music!

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!

Seeing the beauty

in each day and in each moment is a challenge for the restless mind and Restless in France!

PART ONE
A friend recently reminded me of MINDTRAIN by Yoko Ono,  so I listened again with the instantly accessible internet, the intelligent, electronic encyclopaediac tool most of us have at our fingertips...
I have always liked Yoko's weird avant-garde music!  I don't need to be on drugs or alcohol to understand it! It is artistic and creative whatever one's likes or dislikes might be!

Mindtrain is a series of rhythmic, vocal, melodic ostinati, which are simply described as 'repetitive phrases'!  I love the driving rhythm ... one feels as if one is sitting on the train... just listen to the percussive elements and trumpet vocals that create a mind meditation beneath and behind Yoko's screeches and wailings, which, in my opinion, are exactly like a steam train (onomatopoeia) or how the old electric trains would have sounded as they creaked and groaned on the rails! Such talent and madness are essential!

I have thought the following for a long time: that chatterbox thoughts come into the station of the mind and we let the thoughts get off the train at the station or we don't want to acknowledge the thoughts so we put them back on again and tell them to leave us alone and send them packing!! Often when I have suffered from acute anxiety or depression that is how it has been! I don't have it so much anymore. Got loads sorted!

Looking at dates in history, hearing her few lyrics, those words seem to have a premonition of her possible feelings after Lennon's death!  Mind Train was released in 1972 and John Lennon died 08-12-1980
Not everyone's cup of tea!  I found myself feeling happy as I listened.

Pachelbel's Canon and Gigue for 3 violins and basso continuo also makes me feel content and at peace!  Pachelbel's Canon combines techniques of canon and groundbass.  Canon is where several voices (polyphony) play the same music, entering in sequence.  Three voices are in canon, whilst the fourth voice, basso continuo, plays an independent part.

Violins play a three-voice canon over the ground bass to provide harmonic structure.

The bass voice keeps repeating the same two-bar line throughout the piece. This is called ostinato, or ground bass.

PART TWO
Yesterday, though not for the first time, I had a realisation that being in my own peace and quietness is very healing.
That I really need to accept the days like that when I can and indeed do need to regenerate energies.
I know I need to be mindful of the pleasure I gain when I am lazy and stop to wander in my garden and house and see the fruits of my life and the fruits of four years living at this house!

• look at the radish seeds that have appeared in less than a week!
• look at the rows where the old haricot seeds have had a chance to germinate or not - maybe they are too old and dead or just slow to appear... I shall give them a little more time!
• look at the shallots soon to keel over and be ready to eat
• look at the different heights of the three potato varieties
• look at the empty vole hole from where CAT hunted her food.  Naughty cat!
• look at my floral courtyard and grey shutters
• look out... look in....be at peace... know i shall soon be on the move again!!!

And so the music and the thoughts were linked and I am still playing her music today, when I should be concentrating on more pressing matters!
I am just going with the flow ... enjoying life, though those spells of rolling thunder in the early hours of this morning and lunchtime today with heavy rain and sheet lightning approaching from the west were very challenging to the MIND!