My son Leonardo, who lives in Berlin en route for New York (and incidentally is the person who encouraged and helped me to set up this blog), is visiting for the weekend. We’re in the upstairs living room and Jean Michel is looking out at the garden. “There’s a hedgehog!” he says and we rush over to look. In fact, there are two little hedgehogs working their way round the garden.
Spot the hedghog!
I rush down with my iPhone while Jean Michel gets out his telephoto lens for Leonardo to use. I’m afraid to get up close and frighten them away, which is the advantage of a telephoto lens, of course. The results are fabulous.
One of the hedgehogs is still there when we’re having lunch in the garden so our entire time is spent jumping up to take another photo or video. It turns out that the hedgehog isn’t frightened at all which is strange as they are nocturnal creatures. Leonardo suddenly says, “I want a selfie with the hedgehog” and lies down on the grass next to it!
Leonardo taking a selfie with the hedgehog
After lunch Jean Michel and I go cycling while Leonardo goes off to the gym to do weight lifting. It’s a pity he won’t be around more often – he would be very useful for lifting the freestone that Jean Michel will be using to make the new kitchen window.
We can’t resist this hedgehog!
We begin cycling at what I call the Giraffe Intersection because during the summer, they blow up a huge plastic giraffe for the kids to play on while their parents are snacking on focaccia and croissants at Pat-à-Pain. When they remove it in winter, I get completely lost.
A poppy field
Our route takes us through little villages full of roses and fields of barley, wheat and poppies. We’re growing our own barley, wheat and oats this year – quite by accident. The mixed bird seed on the window ledge dropped into the garden bed below and sprouted, much better than my lobelia and verbena seeds, but that’s always the way, isn’t it?
The horse and buggy, a little hazy, but I couldn’t decently get any closer
Ahead of us we suddenly see a horse and buggy. Not the tourist sort, but a real one. The man and young boy are appropriately dressed in colourful caps and there’s even a wicker basket at the back. They are obviously out for a Sunday drive. I have to take the photo without getting off my bike or getting too close as I’m not sure how these people would feel about being photographed openly.
The wall of roses at château de Cheverny
One of the main reasons we have chosen this itinerary is so that I can see my favourite wall of roses at Château de Cheverny. They are just as stunning every year. I’m working on producing a similar effect with my Saharan roses (see apricot and pink roses in first photo), although my wall is somewhat smaller.
The bridge at Cellettes
Our last stop before we get back to the car is the beautiful park in the pretty little village of Cellettes where we initially intended to look for a house – until we discovered it’s a thoroughfare for trucks from Monday to Saturday!
The Pierre Ronsard roses at the back of our house
We do not regret, for one moment, having bought Closerie Falaiseau in Blois. And now we even have a hedgehog!
I have never had any doubts about moving to Blois despite the dreary winter but spring in our garden and the surrounding villages and countryside is just so wonderful that I don’t think I could ever spend it anywhere else! Let me share some of our May flowers with you starting with the traditional lily-of-the-valley that Jean Michel picked for me in the garden.
Next come the Ronsard roses, viburnum and irises outside our front gate.
Followed by the first rose to bloom – the Peace Rose. It has no scent but I love the colours and the story behind it. Only one flower seems to bloom at a time.
The climbing roses on the half-timbered tower at the corner of our house flowered next. They don’t have any scent either but are very romantic.
I love the weigela for its abundance. It grows at one end of our vegetable garden and is a little bit hidden away but will be very visible from our future kitchen side window.
And just look at the next one – it’s wattle, isn’t? I brought back seeds one time but had no success. Then I discovered we already had one in our little wood!
I took this photo on a rainy day. You can see the clematis on the wall which we planted two years ago and are very proud of. However, there is an armandii clematis which has been less successful. I accidentally broke the flowering end and it’s been sulking ever since.
These are the peonies in the little house next door. I’m going to try dividing the tubers in autumn.
The roses below are my favourites and bloom right up until December but May/June is the best period.
And below is the view out of my office room this morning – it corresponds to the window on the left in the photo above.
This my contribution to this month’s AllAboutFrance link-up proposed by Lou Messugo. For other posts on France, click here
Now that the practice window is coming along nicely and we’ve bought the secondhand stone sills and bricks for the kitchen windows, the next step is to buy some freestone blocks for the window on the back façade so it will match the ones in front. For those who don’t know what freestone is (like me!), it’s a fine grain stone which can be cut easily in any direction, in particular a type of sandstone or limestone. In our area, they are made of limestone.
The front window with its freestone surround looking its best with the wisteria in bloom
As usual, Jean Michel starts searching through leboncoin.com. “This looks good”, he says, one evening in front of the fire, “only 50 euro for a whole heap of stones, some of them very big – about 80 kilos”, he adds. I nearly have a fit. “What are we going to do with them all and how are we going to transport them?”” We’ll do a couple of trips with the trailer”, he replies. “Won’t they be too big to use?” “Je me débrouillerai“, he reassures me.
The practice window at the back of the house coming along nicely
He phones and talks to a young woman who hardly seems the type to be selling 80 kilo stones. It takes us an hour to get there and we are about ten minutes early for our 7 pm appointment. It doesn’t look like a house owned by someone selling freestones either. Two young people in their early thirties soon pull up in a car. The young man gets out and opens the gate. The young woman drives in. She gets out and shakes our hands.
The house with the freestones
“I’ll go and let the hens out”, says Olivier. Christelle shows us the stones and Jean Michel drives the trailer in next to them. He then proceeds to put two planks at the back of the trailer to form a slide for the trolley he’s going to use. Olivier soon returns, having changed into yard clothes. He is tall and slim and I wonder if he is really going to be much help.
Jean Michel wheeling the stones on the trolley
However, he turns out to be amazingly strong, which is a good thing because I seriously do not think I would have been much use! This is a much heavier operation than the bricks. It takes them both more than an hour to get 15 stones of various shapes and sizes into the trailer.
Olivier pulling up the trolley (thank goodness I didn’t have to do that!)
In the meantime, I chat with Christelle about her house and garden. The land, which originally housed a large barn, belonged to her grandmother. After she and Olivier bought it, the barn was demolished (hence the stones) and they had a new house built because the barn would have cost far too much to renovate. Christelle’s parents live opposite. Her father used to be a farmer and still has a few hectares.
The bottom of Christelle and Olivier’s garden
Christelle and Oliver’s garden is very large with a lot of trees and even a little stream at the bottom. Next door, there is a pond. It looks very idyllic in the spring and they have large French windows at the back of the house to make the most of the view.
The trailer is now packed and ready to go. Christelle asks if we’d like to stay for a drink but we explain it is an intermittent fast day so all we can have is water. They ask where I come from and are thrilled to learn I’m Australian. They visited Christelle’s sister’s brother-in-law in Sydney last year! We make another appointment for a few days later and Christelle’s father, who has wandered over, offers to come with his tractor. Now why didn’t he come by earlier???
Tipping the stones from the trailer onto the ground at home
It is nearly 9.30 pm by the time we get home. By now we’re pretty hungry, especially Jean Michel. Next day, he up-ends the stones into the front yard – I had no idea our trailer was a tip truck – and uses the trolley to take them into the garden of our little house next door which is ready to receive them.
Jean Michel organises the stones into different types.
As soon as we arrive at Christelle and Oliver’s house to pick up the next cargo of stones, Christelle’s father promptly arrives with his tractor. This time it only takes a half an hour to get the next 16 stones into the trailer. As a present, I have brought some cuttings from our garden: a little yew tree, a laurel and some winter jasmin. Christelle and Olivier are delighted.
Loading the stones into the trailer is so much easier with a tractor!
It’s the third and last trip. Christelle’s father, who takes every opportunity he can to use his tractor according to Olivier, has already picked up two stones on the fork lift by the time Jean Michel gets the trailer in place. One of the stones is a sink. I hope we’ll be able to find some use for it.
The stone sink
Theyve got it down to a fine art by now so, once again, within a half an hour, we’re all set and ready to go, with another 18 stones in the trail. However, I’m hoping that they’ll ask us if we want an apéritif again. It’s not an intermittent fast day! Christelle pops the question and we accept without hesitation.
I would like to suggest that she invite her mother over too because I want to ask her more details about the way she keeps her geraniums in winter. Christelle telle me that she takes them out of the pots and hangs them upside down ! But I need more details. However, I think it might be a little out of place to do so.
Christelle’s father and Olivier with the épine
Olivier goes off and gets a bottle with EPINE written on it. We learn it is a homemade brew consisting of tender blackthorn shoots cut in the spring and steeped in brandy, red or rosé wine and sugar. I ask what the alcohol content is so I have an idea of what I’m drinking. Olivier does a rough calculation and comes up with about 20°. One glass will do me!
We sit round the table drinking the épine which is very tasty, and are joined by Pierre, who’s staying with them for a couple of days. Because they live close to the Saint-Laurent-sur-Nouan nuclear power plant, there is occasional demand for extra accommodation which they offer on airbnb.com. What a good idea!
Saint Laurent sur Nouans nuclear power plant
The conversation mostly revolves around farming (and Australia) as Jean Michel is interested in knowing what Christelle’s father used to do. He grew cereal crops and raised beef cattle. Unfortunately he didn’t have a son to take over after he retired and he misses the activity. What a pity he lives too far away or we could ask him to bring his tractor over when Jean Michel is putting the stones in place!
Sunset over Blois on the way home
We leave reluctantly but it’s getting late. We have taken a liking to these two young people and their farmer father. We’ve only been gone ten minutes when Jean Michel’s mobile rings. It’s Christelle to tell us I’ve forgotten my jacket. So back we go. She comes out to give it to me. I’ll make sure I send her a photo when the window is finished so they can see their stones in their new home. We drive home into the sunset.
I am not sick. I have not given up my blog but like Owl in Winnie the Pooh, I am busy! After a sluggish start to the year workwise, I am suddenly inundated with translations. I can’t complain but it’s not easy to juggle with work, the beautiful weather, the garden and cycling. I am (more or less) keeping up with my photographic blog, Loire Daily Photo. In the meantime, may I invite you to join me in the garden with a cold glass of jurançon in front of our wisteria which came into bloom in just two days!
While the concrete sill on the practice window (made with our new secondhand concrete mixer) is drying, Jean Michel is planning the logistics for the two large windows in the kitchen. We’ve already bought two stone sills for the rear façade window through leboncoin.com (where else ?) but we need bricks for the side window and the barn.
The concrete window sill drying
We can’t use new bricks of course as they would not blend in with the original architecture. Jean Michel sees an advertisement on leboncoin.com for 200 bricks for 50 euro. Considering that another vendor is asking 2.50 euro a brick, it seems a pretty good offer. He phones and organises to pick them up next afternoon. The vendor lives about 40 minutes away.
The first pile of bricks
When we arrive, we see the first stack of bricks waiting for us. We load them in the car along with another stack slaked in mud. Fortunately, it’s stopped raining. Before we go and pick up the rest from his grandmother’s house another 30 minutes away, the vendor shows us a couple of other things he has for sale, including three beautifully preserved glass cloches once used to grow seedlings. He’s selling them for 70 euro a piece but you have to take the three.
Glass garden cloches
His grandmother was still living in the house until she died peacefully in her sleep last December, just 4 days after she turned 100. The house turns out to be a priory built in the 12th and 16 centuries and still has a chapel at the rear. Unfortunately he doesn’t have the key with him but we can make out the vaulting through the grille.
The priory from the back. You can see the archway leading into the chapel.
The renovations on the front façade, with its roller blinds, are a little bit modern for our taste but the vendor seems very proud of them.
The front façade with its roller blinds.
We load the rest of the bricks into the car. I’m a bit worried about the weight. It may be a Volvo stationwagon but there are 244 whole bricks, each weighing about 2 kilos, and another 50 or 60 broken ones. That’s over 550 kilos.
The Volvo very close to the ground at the back!
As we drive very carefully over the first speed bump, we hear a terrible grating noise casued by the trailer coupling. Hmm … The next speed bump looks even higher so we stop and reload the bricks so that the weight is more evenly distributed.
The bricks unloaded. You can see the stone sills at the end of the garden. The “practice” window is the last one on the right. That horrible concrete block wall will eventually be rendered.
Jean Michel drives home at a maximum of 70 kph instead of the usual 90 kph and we’re both relieved when we make it without further mishap. Next time we’ll take the trailer!
The kitchen window will be made after the small window on the far left where the ivy is growing
We then spend an hour or so loading the bricks into the wheelbarrow, taking them around the back of the house and unloading them. Does this sound familiar? Particularly if I say it’s also a fast day?
The side façade. The rounded part is the back of the bread oven. The new window will be on the right, to the left of the small window and will match the window up the top, only it will be bigger.
We haven’t seen Mr and Mrs Previous Owner for quite some time, what with moving, retirement blues, Christmas, New Year, the flu, Granada, getting over the flu and finishing the glass doors and shutters. However, we are now sufficiently en forme for a visit.
I took this photo from the stop of a step ladder on the other side of the wall enclosing the house when I was cleaning of the moss
Mrs Previous Owner emails me and suggests either dessert and coffee or an apéritif. We decide on dessert and coffee because we know that the apéritif means a lot of vouvray and we’ll be driving to their home a half an hour away. We’ve also scheduled a visit to the nearly Brico Depot DIY to buy a window for the laundry.
I always feel badly when we see their house. Having to trade Closerie Falaiseau, which they spent twenty years lovingly doing up, for a modern house, must have been very hard. Fortunately, our enthusiasm for the Closerie helped them to get over the hurdle of having to sell for financial and health reasons after they both retired.
The daffodils planted by Mr and Mrs Previous Owner
When we get there at 1.30 pm, Mr Previous Owner, who is very punctual, welcomes us in and I am a little surprised to see that neither the living room table nor the kitchen table are set. Mrs Previous Owner appears and I give her the enormous bouquet of daffodils that Jean Michel gathered in our little wood earlier on. We have Mr and Mrs Previous Owner to thank for our wonderful carpet of daffodils.
Mrs Previous Owner takes us through to the veranda that fronts onto the kitchen. Despite the fact that we’ve been to their new home several times, I have no recollection of a glassed-in veranda! The table is set with plates, serviettes, wine glasses and coffee cups.
Wine glasses and coffee cups on the veranda
We sit down and Mrs Previous Owner brings out not one, but two stunning cakes from a local pâtisserie.
I don’t know what the situation in Australia is today, but back in my youth, no one would have dreamed of inviting someone over and not baking their own cakes or biscuits. In France, however, that is not the case and cakes bought at a good pâtisserie are more than welcome.
Chocolate and raspberry cakes from Eric Saguez’s pâtisserie
We accept the offer for a glass of vouvray to accompany the very delicious chocolate and raspberry concoctions made by Eric Saguez at his pâtisserie in Rue du Commerce in Blois, and even take seconds ! Good thing yesterday was a 5:2 fast day …
Thanks to my iPhone, I am able to show them the new glassed-in doors and shutters. They are suitably impressed.
I tell them about the broken weathervane and Mr Previous Owner immediately says that if it happens again, he’ll be more than happy to repair it.
Our repaired weather vane
A little later, after coffee, when Jean Michel and Mr Previous Owner are in deep discussion about our alarmingly high property tax, I learn that Mrs Previous Owner hasn’t downloaded the photos on her iPhone for 3 years. We go upstairs to the computer so that I can show her how to do it.
It’s getting late and we still have to buy the window so we take our leave and promise to see them again soon at the Closerie, when the wisteria is in bloom.
Our standard white PVC tilt and turn window
At Brico Depot, we learn that they only sell white PVC turn and tilt windows which are not what we want since all our other windows are stained a dark oak colour. At least we haven’t gone out of our way. Two days later, however, having checked the prices for coloured PVC and wooden windows which turn out to be five times higher, we go back and get a white one. It is, after all, at the back of the house, down near the woodpile in an area which I intend to close off with bushes so I can put up a discreet clothes line. But that’s another project!
Jean Michel’s first retirement project is finished. All five doors on the front façade of Closerie Falaiseau now have glass panels instead of three glass and two solid wood doors. The difference in light is amazing!
Closerie Falaiseau, with the two solid wood doors seen from the outside
The first step in November is to order the new glass. The next step, in December, is to block up the ground floor doorway with glass wool insulation while the first door is being converted. It’s winter after all!
The door in the office with its wooden panels
To replace the solid panels with glass, the surrounds have to be removed. Jean Michel is hoping to be able to use them again but he soon realises that it won’t be possible. He’ll have to make new ones.
The door with one glass pane
After the surrounds and solid panels have been removed, the glass panels are fitted and work on the new surrounds begins. This door is quite tricky because the top is curved to go under the arch. The glass has a straight edge of course but there isn’t a lot of leeway because it’s regulation double glazing and very thick.
Alain arrives just in time to help Jean Michel hang the door
The first door is now finished and ready to be hung. I’m just about to help Jean Michel carry it across the courtyard when our helpful neighbour Alain walks past and lends a welcome hand.
Door in place with the glass fibre insulation behind
The door’s up and looking good. All that has to be done now is to remove the glass fibre insulation outside for the light to come streaming through into the office.
Light flooding into the office in the morning
The final step is to make the wooden shutter that will protect us from burglary and keep out the cold at night in winter. It obviously has to be identical to all the others in the house.
Downstairs shutter drying in the kitchen after the first coat of varnish
Once he has finished making it and put on the first coat of varnish, Jean Michel brings it into the kitchen to dry as the temperatures are going down fast.
Now the glass wool is on the upstairs door into the living room
Various events get in the way – my flu,Granada, etc. – before he is able to start the second door. Initially it goes much faster because he has already gained experience. He knows he won’t be able to re-use the surrounds so doesn’t have to take such care removing them.
Staining the door in the kitchen out of the cold
However, it’s February and it’s much colder outside so the even the varnish on the door has to be done in the kitchen or it won’t dry. It’s also very cold in the garage where Jean Michel is working.
Alain to the rescue again
This time, since the door has to be carried upstairs, he makes an apointment with Alain to come by rather than trust to luck.
The house with the two new glass doors
We’re delighted with the result of course, but we’re surprised to see that the door looks narrower than it did before.
Upstairs lock with the two shutters
Inside, you can see the locks and bolts better.
The two upstairs shutters being held together while the glue is drying
Because of the position of the lock, two shutters are needed this time. But as I explained in an earlier post, a little problem arises when Jean Michel is using the plunge router to make the profile on the edge of the surrounds. A screw comes loose and causes a bigger hollow than he intends. Fortunately, though, after a short rest, he’s able to rectify matters.
The delinquent plunge router that lost its screw
I volunteer to help with the varnishing this time but it’s a technique I’ve never used before (very different from painting) and I’m afraid I’ll make a mess of it so I leave it to Jean Michel who has a lot more practice.
Breakfast in the upstairs living room so we can look through the new door
Initially we’re not used to having the glass panels and the corresponding light and we keep thinking we’ve left the door open! Now in the morning when we have breakfast in the upstairs living room, we don’t turn our chairs in the direction of the fireplace as we do at night, but towards the door and the countryside beyond. More light at last!
You may remember our poultry yard dilemma that got in the way of our project to renovate our “little house” to make a gîte (self-catering holiday rental accommodation). We thought we might have to drop the idea altogether. The next idea was to convert our second barn instead. Then the neighbours sold their house to a lovely couple who has no intention of pursuing the barnyard theme.
The enclosure, with the lean-to on the right which is up against our barn and the house that is going to be pulled down to form a garden for the gîte
Jean Michel has been pondering the question for some time and has now decided that we should go back to the original idea of refurbishing the little house. He explains it to me but I am one of those people who finds it difficult to change something that I like and I can’t imagine in my mind what he wants to do. I love the side view of the little house which Jean Michel simply cannot undertand.
The corner view of the little house seen from our garden
He starts getting annoyed with me and I can see we’re heading for an argument so I say I’ll make a scale model. Whatever you want, he replies. I just need all the dimensions. I have the dimensions. I’ve drawn the floor plans of little house to scale, he says. Well, can I have them? It’s after dinner and he thinks it’s a bit late to be embarking on model-making but he gets them anyway.
The façade of the little house at the moment, which is rather ugly, you will agree!
I go and find some coloured cardboard, sticky tape, scissors, pen and a ruler. He looks on amazed as I proceed to rule lines and cut out pieces of cardboard. Well, I can see this isn’t your first scale model, he says. It is actually the first one that I’ve made myself but I loved making models when I was a child. Dad once bought Buckingham Palace for me and my sister and we spent hours putting it together on Magnetic Island.
The façade of the little house on our mock-up, a replica of our own façade
I make the little house, except for the new roof at the back, as this is the part I can’t understand. Jean Michel, who is now itching to get his hands on the cardboard and scissors too, takes over. I am amazed when I see the result. Never in a thousand years could I have imagined it without a physical model to help me.
The brick and stone façade of our house at the kitchen end
So where does the barn fit in, I ask. We need to make the barn as well. So I go and find some more buff-coloured cardboard. We decide on a blue roof to represent the slate because we used pink for the tiles. We fit the two together and I am at last able to imagine the result. We start discussing the floor plan of the inside of the little house and come up with several interesting ideas. But by then it’s nearly midnight so we go to bed.
The barn on the left and the back of the little house on the right, with its new roof
Next day, I have another look at the existing roof and see that Jean Michel’s idea isn’t so bad after all. We’ll lose a boxwood bush and a small althea but the new roof is actually quite attractive.
The back of the little house whose roof will disappear
One of the things we can add is an outside toilet which I’m very happy about. There is nothing worse than working in the garden and having to stop and change your muddy shoes to go to the other end of the house to the toilet, wash your hands or even get a glass of water.
The division between the kitchen and dining area in the big house that I would like to reproduce in the little house
Making the scale model has inspired me. I’m now thinking about how to organise the inside so that it will be as attractive and practical for holiday makers as possible. All this won’t be happening for a few years yet, but we need to ask for planning permission and incorporate the future plans into any other work we do on the house in the meantime (such as installing a heat pump, renovating the barn to take the current content of the little house and providing a garage for our second car which has mainly been parked across the street for the last three years !)
Wish us luck and if you have any criteria you think are essential for rental accommodation, please share!
We pick up our car at the long-term parking lot near Orly Airport at 10.30 pm after our flight back from Malaga and drive the two hours back to Blois with no mishaps. Closerie Falaiseau is safe and sound with no break-ins (you never know in this day and age what might happen) so we unload the car and turn on the electric blankets. The temperature in the bedroom is 15°C. Jean Michel brings up the portable oil heater.
You can see the round window on the right just opposite the street light!
I sleep like a log, most unusual for me, but there are no cars going over the cobblestone outside our house on the Double Hill and no light streaming into the enormous round unshuttered bedroom window from the street light as there was in Granada. Everything is perfectly still and quiet.
Bright sunshine in our bedroom – after we open the shutters!
The first thing Jean Michel notices when he opens the window in the morning to bright sunshine is that our weather vane is broken. We have a beautiful, unique weather vane on one of our barns, made by our previous owner who was a locksmith. It has a key to represent his trade and a feather to symbolise that of his wife, who was a secretary.
The broken weather vane
Both are perfect symbols for us as well. We can also see the weather vane from the upstairs living room so can check which way the wind’s blowing when we’re having breakfast. In France, north winds are chilly and south winds are warm.
Jean Michel removing the broken weather vane
But one side of the weather vane is now looking as though it might fall off altogether. Jean Michel waits until late afternoon when the wind dies down and it’s a bit warmer so he can climb up his big ladder and bring the weather vane down for repairs.
Coming down the ladder
I don’t like heights but he has even done a special course in climbing up on roofs so I’m not too worried. He unscrews the weather vane from its little pole and climbs carefully down the ladder.
Soldering the weather vane
The repairs prove to be a bit more difficult than expected because the weather vane is zinc and he is using galvanised iron to fix it so the solder isn’t behaving very well. However, he eventually finds the solution and it is soon repaired.
You can see the broken bit at the bottom of the feather stem
However, it is nearly dark by the time he climbs up the ladder again and I’m just a little worried this time. But all goes well and it’s soon in place again.
Putting the repaired weather vane back on its pole
I have to say that I am extremely lucky to have such a talented husband. He really does seem to be able to fix anything!
Good as new next morning
He certainly deserves a gin and tonic in front of the fireplace after his hard work.
Gin & tonic to make up for the one that Transavia airlines doesn’t serve in-flight!
And just in case you’re wondering how I am health-wise, this awful flu is still not completely finished even after nearly three weeks. I’m still very tired and have a cough but am able to translate and rake the moss off the lawn when I need a break. However, I’ve fared better than my neighbour who still isn’t out and about. I hope that next week we’ll both be back to Nordic walking together.
It’s one of those dull and dreary rainy days in December with little motivation to venture much further than the fireside but our local association, Les Amis des Grouets, is having its annual mulled wine and chestnut evening just down the road at 6 pm and we missed it last year.
This year’s Christmas cake
The Christmas cake is in the oven but this year only Jean Michel was able to stir and make a wish in person. Black Cat and I chatted on skype while I was making the cake (she was ironing in New York!) and she made a virtual wish.
So, umbrellas open, we call in to collect Françoise and Paul on the way. As we get close to the church, we can hear accordion music and see fairy lights.
We pay our annual dues and buy a ticket each. Fortunately, there are a couple of tents (no doubt the same ones that were used for the bread baking day in May when it was also raining …) but surprisingly, the rain lets up completely.
Accordian player
We are given a white paper bag to collect our chestnuts and raffle tickets to get a plastic cup of mulled wine. We’re allowed refills, we’re told.
Quite a few people eventually arrive but very few children which is a pity. However, the ones that are there have a lovely time roasting marshmallows over an open fire.
The chestnut burner is manned by Norbert, who was the baker on bread baking day, and the postman who doesn’t actually live in Les Grouets but likes the neighbourhood so much that he comes back after work.
Roasting marshmallows over the open fire
We are starting to recognise a few people. Françoise introduces a neighbour who is a retired mason and once did some work on our house, but he can’t remember the details.
I explain to his wife how to make foie gras au sel as we spent a fun day last week with Françoise and Paul and Susan and Simon from Days on the Claise teaching them how to devein foie gras ready for Christmas. For a detailed description of our workshop, I suggest you go over to Susan’s blog.
Françoise, Susan, Simon and Paul tasting the vouvray used for the foie gras
In return, the mason’s wife promises to send me her kugelhof recipe. I’m not a great kugelhof fan but it seems this is a variant so I shall try it out for Christmas. Which reminds me that I should also make Liliane’s gingerbread cake as well.
I’m linking this post to Lou Messugo’s Christmas edition of the All About France monthly link-up. For other entries, click here.
