Villandry on a birthday

Never mind a picnic.. or a cake.. 

SEE LATER!

I had a small Caesar salad for 6.50e - the large one would have been too much food for me. This was a la carte!  It was fresh and presented well. Lots of meat and a whole egg!

 with a glass of St Nicholas de Bourgueil - a very rich red which I regretted cos it needed meat! Bit strong for mid pm for it was now between 14h30and 15h when I arrived at VILLANDRY.  I came to a sudden halt at the first restaurant as I had driven from Poitiers, missed morning coffee and was feeling bushed! The wind on the autoroute was a little scary whilst watching the lorries ahead of me grip a straight course!

This little restaurant Le Gosier Sec was inside a grotto. The proprietress and waitress were impeccably polite. But somehow it missed something! Perhaps a restaurant in a grotto is limited! French musette accordion, organ and xylophone dance music and chansons filled the air! After a while one's eyes adjusted to the darkness but I did ask for the candle on the table to be lit. Happy Birthday it said! The back mural was a Bacchanalian Medieval scene of bosomed wenches and predators, quaffing wine and eating grapes!

I returned to my car for a slice of home made Pear Tarte Tatin and Rooibus tea!

Then into the expansive grounds of the chateau, which is quite interesting architecturally and quite ordinary inside! 

Imagine controlling the household budget! No thanks!

Exterior views today. Interior tomorrow and then gardens!

TWO DAYS LATER I SHARED AND ATE THE CAKE I BOUGHT!

Inspired in a purple haze

by Days on The Claise 

to visit this lovely chateau 

truly for gardens of lavendula

and more

Romeo & Juliet

Through the vine leaves

Hearts and flowers

more tomorrow!

Going on a Magical Mystery Tour

A FEAST DAY
Hey hey...65 today! 
I know where I'm going... I know the route I'm taking... I know where I'm heading for.... 
SIDESTEPPING MY STORY
A song springs to mind ... one I used to teach in my classes at school...and also which 'Captain Sensible and his Sweetpea' sang together in our last years of heady fun together!
The lyrics of this traditional Scottish/Irish ballad are about a woman pining for her "bonnie" lover Johnny.  Folk music, learned by oral rote, produced different versions of lyrics and music and the simple version reproduced by Laura Wright became a  rowdy version. Once upon a time The Clancy brothers, as well as others, sang it as The Gypsy Rover!  
INTERLUDE I - whilst listening to the song!
I know where I'm going

And I know who's going with me
I know who I love
And the dear knows who I'll marry.
I have stockings of silk
Shoes of bright green leather
Combs to buckle my hair
And a ring for every finger.
Some say he's poor (black)
But I say he's bonnie
The fairest of them all
My handsome winsome Johnny.
Feather beds are soft
And painted rooms are bonny
But I would leave them all
To go with my love Johnny.
I know where I'm going
And I know who's going with me
I know who I love
But the dear knows who I'll marry.

TO CONTINUE in prose
I have no idea if and what the picnic will be.
BUT... I shall take a basket with tablecloth, cutlery, crockery, glasses, wine, plus a flask of Earl Grey tea for myself and an uninvited guest just because one never knows...hahaha! I shall take my birthday cards with me! AND... I am going to explore a Chateau. That is as much as I have planned!
I hope My Magical Mystery Tour will find a fine morning coffee to imbibe with an interesting view!
I hope to find delicious food in a boulangerie - maybe a savoury tart and most definitely a gateau.
For today is my birthday,
gonna have a good time...
gonna singalongasong with the fab four 'cos there aint anyone here to sing it for me!...
gonna sing in the plural (I am happy with who I am - with all my different personalities, moods and enigmas) 
gonna re-invent the tradition that was an idea initiated by my daughter in 2004 when I didn't know what to do for his 60th birthday! Captain Sensible and I had several Magical Mystery Tours for his birthday and mine until after January 2010 when it all stopped!
I am not ever going to spend another birthday in bed as I did in 2010 just because I am on my own. Nope!  For the last three years I have spent a family birthday with cousins, their children and grandchildren on the beach at Southwold or having barbecues in Reydon/Blythburgh but not this year.  I couldn't find a cat sitter! 
INTERLUDE II ... sing up!
They say it's your birthday
It's my birthday too, yeah
They say it's your birthday
We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you
Ah Come on
Yes we're going to a party party
I would like you to dance
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance
I would like you to dance
Dance yeah Oh Come on
I would like you to dance  
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance  
I would like you to dance 
Oh dance! Dance
They say it's your birthday
Well it's my birthday too, 
They say it's your birthday We're gonna have a good time
I'm glad it's your birthday
Happy birthday to you 
TO CONTINUE in prose
The sun will shine in my heart and in France.  I will drive safely and return to tell another story!
The end of the forecast!

My lovely boy! A Man!!

Happy Birthday Sebs

LIVE each day for it soon goes away!

as did the Birth day of 40 years ago!

9999

Currently, just before midday in France on 9th July there have been that many visitors to this blog!

dans la foulée

is an adverbial clause which means immédiatement après, sur la même lancée.    
I had never heard this phrase before yesterday! 
When I have discovered my former partner's iMei 15 digit code which is a desimlockage code for his mobile, I will be able to ask the lovely Orange.fr  to unblock his phone, now that I have his phone number so that he can use his phone in Asia! The lovely Sebastien will change it  "dans la foulée", that is, immediately after I have told him.  
When the Samsung Galaxy S4 was bought at Auchan we asked for it to be unblocked. Today the same man told me that my friend had to do it himself. However, only the telephone company can do this!!! This salesperson has told me the opposite of what he told us when we bought the mobile, and also today he told me a lie saying that the 13 digit number on the facture for the sim card was the iMei code required!  I was going to go back and tell him but couldn't be bothered as perhaps he didn't need to be shamed some more!
On Monday I made one phone-call to orange.fr, (English speaking line) who gave me the technical support number (French 4 digits) who told me to go to the orange.fr boutique in my local town, who told me to go to Auchan.  The very nice receptionist at the acceuil, Auchan,  took me to 'le portable' section (French people now use the universal word 'mobile'). They told me to go to the orange.fr shop opposite in the mall complex. The receptionist explained to the lady from orange.fr what I need to do. This lady was also superb. She took me back to Auchan and  left me waiting as there was a long queue. I spoke to the man who had sold my friend the phone!  After that, back to Sebastien, as above! 
Technological communication in France!aaaaarrrggghhh! 
Know one's rights. Know about guarantees and if you want to take a mobile out of France get it unblocked and get them to prove it!  Don't rely on them to do as one asks! Keep the box. Keep all paperwork they give! Keep the receipt! Keep your head! Keep one's patience! Be  determined, calm, tell them how kind they are and smile!  The picture isn't yet finished so there will be an update to this small story!
P.S. I have a cheap UK mobile 'pay as you go' which is in hiding somewhere... and so I know nothing about smartphones.. and after this little experience I do not wish to have one!

UPDATE WEDNESDAY:
My friend in Asia has followed the procedure and after a short hiccough when part of the instruction had been ignored by orange.fr like press the green phone icon!!!!.....I am now in possession of the imei number. When I have the time and energy I must proceed to the orange.fr company.  I would prefer to go into the shop so that I can see the screen!!!!!!! Then I will feel more confident.
I have a friend who is half French and he maintains that the French tell lies all the time! Now, I haven't really come up against this before, except when we were trying to cancel a complicated issue for my friend who wanted to cease being an auto-entrepeneur when unknowingly he had been registered as micro-entreprise.  We were sent in circles!  That took a year and a half to resolve!
Or, is it that the French people really don't know the answer, so tell you something 'helpful' to make you go away!  In this current case, I couldn't see why orange.fr would not do the procedure over the phone, but now I think I can see that anyone with any nous (pronounced nouse as in common knowledge) could make changes! HELP, this techno world means there is no protection from privacy yet every protection against fraud so maybe we should be grateful! 

Dark Eyes

Trailing fuschia not hardy to frost!

Alliumflowerhead

Make way for new growth.  Some weeks or months ago, old leeks were dug into the ground as green manure because they had bolted into flower stalks.  I cut the most advanced one and put it in a small vase on the exterior window-sill in full sun because of its form and its promise of hope to flower.  This week I was blessed as it opened to reveal pretty, delicate flowers.  I set it before 'the money plant' my daughter gave me, which has flourished over ten years or so.
This last week I cleared the first early potatoes and planted new leeks topped and tailed, after digging in household vegetable matter and sprinkling compostage of ammonia plus lime on the soil before plantation! Hope they are edible in the future!
I am hoping for a quiet week that treats my body and mind as delicately as pink and white leek florets.  Being between Workawayers I need to gather in, as well as sort my admin tasks and storage of; it is the bane of my life!  The garden still calls for attention but it looks pretty until that grass grows again! 

Today I feel better.  The last 24 hours were spent drifting in and out of sleep, reading, drinking tea, keeping quiet, apart from speaking to my son.  Because we don't keep in touch and rarely communicate because of technological expense and difficulties, I feel powerless to support him from such a distance. Then latent anger or frustration gets released into tears.  I really don't want to be angry with him! He is worth all my love and care!  Yet, he has his life. I have mine. I suppose it is because it appears to me that he shows no interest and in the past I have excused him, that he is getting on with his life but it isn't only me that feels neglected, that feels we would like to share.  I know that I rather wore huge grooves in the record so that the record broke into shards! That I called Wolf too many times! Layers of guilt, resentment, fear, pride, love are on both sides!  I know he loves me! It is a conundrum of Mothers and Sons!  My daughter and I seem to be adults and friends together as we have worked through the difficult times.....of course we dont see eye to eye on everything but we do try to support each other.
I am a poor role model because factors which did not permit me to be friends with my mother and father excluded me from such a privilege of adulthood parent-child amity.

St Savin - Une nuit romane

The weather became crazy when at about 21h huge gusts of wind, thunder and rain sent spectators running to their vehicles.  We also returned after we had sat it out on a blanket under umbrellas, until they turned inside out and our anatomy became somewhat wet!  However, the evening was not cancelled as we'd imagined. Once we'd ditched one wet blanket for a dry one, we returned to the riverbank, ever hopeful. The organisers told us that the pianist would be cancelled but the firework illuminations would happen! When glimpses of blue sky returned, the pianist did play and the company GroupeF specializing in pyrotechnics created an incredibly beautiful and stunning spectacle after technical delays. A speech by Ségolène Royale to open 'Les Nuits Romanes' for this region was cancelled so she disappointed protesters concerned about unemployment.  Several people wearing fire suits that illuminated in the dark were like gorillas! They set sail on a boat that roared and created fire! The abbaye was illuminated with images of slavery, monkeys and coloured patterns. At one time fireworks ricocheted like a machine gun along the row of trees on the other side of the river, whilst rainbow coloured flares shot up on the diagonal this way and that!  The silver-lighted-dotted people came off the boat, climbed in the trees, crossed the bridge and operated fire puppets as well as the Catherine wheels on their backs. 
It was almost a two hour performance, or felt like it, and when it was time to depart,  our feet were like blocks of ice, our necks were cricked and it was hard to walk across the grass then along the road to return to our car! Most of the people and traffic had gone; a charming policeman pointed us in the right direction as blocked roadways prevented access to the bridge and other routes!

No, not us and No not Glastonbury! Between the squally storms.
These people gave me permission to take the pic... then I did so with their camera!

No More Brown

The view  of the brown courtyard portal is No More Brown. The garden gates of my home, (affectionately known as Fort Knox) are now a beautiful silver grey - comme moi! heeheehee!
With HUGE and GRATEFUL thanks to Amanda without whom (as one says) I would be looking at Dark and Gloomy.  Her motto is HAPPINESS and she certainly has brought that to me via WORKAWAYERS.  So too has Steve her partner when they sanded and painted the vast French shutters a few weeks ago!

Transition stage

However, I removed the green plastic coated wire mesh at the base of the metal gates and have discovered that Big Feet slips through, so I must purchase posh silver netting as a deterrent for little dogs and cats to squeeze in and out of my courtyard from the roadway!

A battle between beauty, aesthetics, practicality and fortress protection! 

Now what do I do about those walls? 

ADDENDUM:  

 http://restlessinfrance.blogspot.fr/2012/07/vous-avez-une-barricade.html

This gives a good picture and explanation of how the gates used to be!!!!!!!! 

PROGRESS!

Éclosion - Hatching

 

I didn't find out who the sculptor was! "The lotus flower has its roots below the water, and its immaculate colour and subtle perfume is offered above the water.  The flower lasts but a few days, yet seeds continue to grow for thousands of years.  In India the lotus is a symbol of fulfilment, hope and femininity.  This sculpture represents man and woman who are born from love when the seeds of pure love are scattered to infinity...."
Well... that explains it... why I could see it as man and woman and had thought it amusing as a double whammy of a phallus!... then read the script! Hey ho... life goes on... as long as there is man and woman!
I think I will end the sculptural journey there, but there were more extremely interesting sculptures but perhaps not as interesting as this one!... and if one took the pathway through the woodland one reached the coastal pathway along part of the pink granite coast!

More Sculptures in the Park

1. I don't know the name of the sculptor or the piece.

2. The next one fascinated me....  I think the translation is that Shelomo Selinger is Polish and was interned in German concentration camps, found by a doctor half dead in a pile of corpses, secretly immigrated into Palestine in 1946 and fought in the War of Independence. He helped to build a kibbutz and won an Israeli arts prize. He came to Paris to work with granite. This sculpture represents the combat of man against the forces of nature!

3. I didn't take a photo of Biscornet by Anishnabe Manitoumaqua: but here is a link.  It's a totem to Ursa Major, a constellation that guided mariners from St Malo to the New World.

Granite Man

Patrice La Guen: Le Repos du Tailleur

This sculpture is an homage to Daniel Chhe, a passionate patron of the arts. It is also an homage to all the quarry men who extracted granite from the land.

Sculptors know that pink granite witnessed in so many monuments has come from Brittany.

The detail in this sculpture is remarkable ... the pocket in his trousers, the boot, his clothing, his mallet, his weariness and his sheer size is impressive!