Roses, boutique and a picnic

Hello summer...well mostly. It's not exactly sweltering over here but the roses are definitely in bloom both on the terrace and in the garden. This year the trellis is effulgent with three rose varieties all in their glory at this moment.

Last year we discovered these lovely little purple geraniums for our terrace pot.The great thing about them is that besides blooming all season long, they come back. We were quite surprised to see them emerge again out of the frozen earth early in the spring. Once the sun came out, they grew like gang busters.

I finally felt sure enough of the weather this week to set up the boutique for the season. This part of our garage/press room gets moist in the rain, so for me to put out my prints, I have to have some assurance that the sky is going to be mostly clear and the air mostly warm before I can open the shop. To dress the place up a bit I painted some wallpaper for the blank walls. I like the whimsy.

When Emily and family came for a brief visit recently, we took a day trip to our old stomping ground in Les Alpes Mancelles to see our neighbors the Tireaus, who remain our good friends.

When we first moved to France we lived in a little mill on a small river in the middle of a forest. It is an utterly charming location and in the summer Emily produced a theater festival in our local town. We have so many warm memories from this period of our lives.

We sold the moulin in 2007 in order to purchase the Maison Conti but we go back from time to time. Currently, the moulin is changing hands again but at the moment is empty, so we were given permission to have our picnic there and do a little walking down memory lane. In truth an actual walk was a little difficult. One thing which has been neglected is the pruning. The place is like the jungle anyway, and if you don't keep up with cutting down the undergrowth, you are soon overwhelmed. This was once a trail.

The Tireaus who live on the hill above the property brought a big table and we spread out our potluck luncheon, cooked hotdogs on the grill and picnicked on the terrace that were both fashioned by Rick eight years ago for Emily and Jos' wedding, which was held here.

After lunch we took a walk around, bushwhacking all the way.

The kids enjoyed the great outdoors including the river and forest.

What was once a relatively manicured vegetable garden and orchard has become a wild place.

Rick brought along our game of Mölkky, made for us by our friend Arnault. It is like bowling but involves some tricky rules when it comes to scoring points. It's a bit of a math puzzle meets hand/eye coordination skill. I am particularly bad at it on both counts but in three games played, men against women, the women won two. We were proud.

Before heading back home we stopped by the Tireau's house to see the animals. Quinn visited the hen house and collected eggs and met Zouk the donkey

Emily and Anita collected some rhubarb and lettuce.

Good Times & Vanilla Ice Cream

The weather here has turned sweet and we feel as if we can finally welcome spring definitively in all its glory. The flowers, which have been patiently waiting for the right signals, are confident enough to begin their blooming.

It is a tremendous pleasure to be out on the terrace in the sun. Rick was thrilled and surprised to hear me say one day that I intended to spend the entire day doing nothing much but sunbathing, sketching and whiling away my hours on the terrace. This is entirely out of character. But who could resist?

What else to sketch, but the colorful mutabilis roses? They are such show-offs!

I have been engaged in a certain amount of spring cleaning which, for me, always involves some furniture rearrangement. Doors and windows are left open, which makes the household tasks seem all the more pleasant.

I have enjoyed greeting our clients, brewing tea, serving breakfasts and making dinners. When the markets are so full of fresh fruits and vegetables, making meals is a real pleasure.

I often serve Marie-Claire's tarte for dessert - simple, but beautiful and tasty.

Often I also make homemade ice cream. There is no comparison between what you can make at home and what you buy at a supermarket. If you have an ice cream maker, there is hardly anything easier or more delicious than a simple vanilla ice cream.

Put 375 ml of milk and 375 ml of heavy cream in a pan and bring to a boil. You can add a vanilla bean or coffee beans to flavor the mixture. Once boiled, leave to cool (remove beans once the mixture is cooled). Beat 7 egg yolks with 170 g of caster (very fine) sugar until fluffy and very pale yellow. When milk and cream mixture are sufficiently cooled, but not cold, add to egg mixture and combine. Leave this in the refrigerator for 8-12 hours then put into an ice cream maker. An electric machine takes about 20 minutes to turn your creamy mixture into delicious ice cream.

I have a Krups ice cream maker and I'm very happy with it.

Busy Weekend in a Small Village

I love the blues and the forms of penstemons

Last summer a young, attractive couple rang our bell just after we had checked out a house full of clients. We were in the process of stripping beds and laundry lay in towering piles in the hallway. Their names were Gregoire and Morgane and they had come to book our entire house for their wedding day, which was planned for this past weekend. Gregoire is the nephew of Catherine, the châtelaine (the woman who owns our local castle).

When the day for the big event finally arrived, the weather was overcast and rainy. Morgane was discouraged. At breakfast she characterized it as "pas terrible" which literally means "not terrible" but in usage means "absolutely terrible". She, her mother and grandfather had spent two days with us as they fluttered around the village preparing for the events of Saturday afternoon. The wedding was planned for 4PM.

At noon the house came alive with activity. A hair dresser, manicurist and make-up artist and various friends arrived. Furniture was moved around to turn our yellow room into a beauty salon. Pizzas were delivered and consumed in the kitchen downstairs and the gate stayed constantly open as various people came and went in fevered activity. The weather slowly improved as the day went ahead. The rain stopped and from time to time the clouds would disperse, allowing here and there a small patch of blue to appear.

 the hair dresser, looking charming in his yellow plaid pants and chic fedora

As the hour approached, the excitement mounted. Flowers arrived and guests began to gather outside the church on the Place in front of our house. We mostly tried to stay out of the way but were called upon to direct people here and there, lend out our stapler or various other items as requested. A Dominican priest arrived all the way from Paris to perform the ceremony, dressed in ornate cream-colored robes. He found us in our studio and asked for a glass of water. Our sink, which has an energetic sprayer, splashed all over the front of his beautiful vestments, causing some consternation and concern!

the bride's bouquet arrives

Several adorable little girls with huge flower wreaths on their heads took their places. Many of the women guests had elaborate hats and brightly colored shawls.

guests and flower girls await the moment

Morgane's father awaited her on our terrace, and when she arrived promptly at 4, he led her, camera's flashing, to the church and the ceremony was underway.

Morgane on the arm of her father

The church bells began to ring joyously at the end of the wedding. At the very moment the young married couple stepped to the threshold of the church doors to walk out onto the Place, the sun came out from behind the clouds and bathed them in light. The entire crowd cheered. A dixieland quartet struck up a lively tune.

on the way to the reception

Gregoire's father owns a property in town and the reception was held there. Rick heard the happy couple, the parents, grandparents and friends arrive back to our place at 4AM. A 12 hour party!

We expected everyone to sleep in late, but in fact when we went to set up for breakfast a little before 9 on Sunday morning, the grandfather was awaiting us. He was anxious to get back on the road for his home, close to Orleans, a couple of hours away. It was voting day for the legislative seats in France. The country would decide if the new socialist president would get a mandate or not (as it turned out, he got a resounding one.)

Papi, as Morgane called her grandfather, is a very distinguished white haired gentleman, a little hard of hearing, but elegant and friendly. He complimented us for our house, as most French people do. It pleases us so much how appreciative the French are of what we have done with Maison Conti. He was dressed smartly for his drive home. He wore a crisp starched white shirt with blue stripes, a thin black wool cravat, impeccably tied and a beautiful moss green plaid jacket.

The others arrived more slowly, but by noon the house was empty again and all the activity of the past day was a memory. Early in the afternoon, just as I was settling down to a quiet moment, the church bells began to chime again announcing some new event. When I looked out the window, I saw that a child had just been christened. The bells told the tale.

As quiet as our little village can sometimes be, it is never dull. There is always some important life event being celebrated.

family and friends gather for a baptism

***

Although it has been a very discouraging spring weather-wise, there are some advantages to living in a corner of the world where there is plentiful rain. The emerald green landscape never ceases to enchant my eyes, and when the sun does come out, it is revelatory.

rolling green hills below the fortified walls of the town

On Sunday afternoon we went to the garden. The day was extremely fine, warm and sunny with the occasional puffy white clouds. On our walk we pass all the vegetable potagers of the locals. Their gardens are neat and tidy.

our village garden plots

Garden man and his wife were out picking strawberries. Believe it or not, the large basket that the wife is holding and the large white plastic container that Roland is holding, are filled with strawberries, all from just two rows of plants. I asked if they were going to be making jam and Roland answered that he preferred his strawberries at the bottom of a full glass of red wine!

picking strawberries

Our flower garden is an anomaly, but we gets lots of compliments on it. It is looking particularly pretty at the moment.

our flower garden

Probably our favorite rose is this apricot David Austin, which I believe is named Grace. It is such a generous plant, during the season continuously offering its perfect and very fragrant blossoms.

David Austin rose

It is not a long stemmed rose, so we generally float the blooms in a bowl of water.

crystal bowl holding our garden roses

I rather love the fact that the wall that borders one end of the garden still has holes where archers could shoot their arrows to defend the town. These walls were built long before our house, which was a structure of the renaissance, after siege warfare had been abandoned.

a hole in the defensive wall that borders the garden

Even if our garden is mainly dedicated to flowers, we do have a few salad supplies growing — lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, and some herbs. These heads are perfect and they tasted delicious. I don't even like lettuce, but these were an exception. I might yet come around.

two delicious varieties of lettuce we've grown this year

Late Sunday afternoon we walked back home from our garden, stopping to share greetings with Anne, Christine and Monique. The Place was quiet after a very energetic weekend.

***

Since I've been a bit tardy in my blog posting, I haven't yet reported on our visit from James and Adric, which happened the weekend before. It was not brilliant weather, but a particularly wonderful time despite that. We had a lot of fun cooking, eating, watching the finals of Roland Garros and results of the preliminary French legislative elections.

We also took a kayaking trip together which I could not photograph as the camera would have been destroyed in the effort. It turns out that our area has quite a few well-defined and exciting river kayaking possibilities. We got a map of the routes and took one of them with the boys. This one has you descending over two small waterfalls in the process of navigating the route. We were all soaking wet by the end of the ride, as it also poured rain during part of the adventure. Still, I can't wait to go again.

James sewed a tablecloth and Adric figured out how to play Mahjong, an activity I enjoyed with my brother in my youth. I own a beautiful old set, but we hardly ever get it out, as it requires four players. Adric read the old rule book and taught us the details of set up and scoring, which I had forgotten.

 

We all became addicts of this really wonderful and very sensual game. Rick, who often gets restless with these kinds of activities, won most of the rounds, so even he kept repeating "what great fun!"

Days of Wine and Roses

Dreaming of sunny days, I played with this image I took in Barcelona last year.

Our spring is a bit unpredictable this year! The sun plays hide and seek, the rains they come and go. One has to profit from the periods when the sky is blue and the air is warm, to race out to the garden and smell the roses, which are in abundance at the moment.

On the terrace are three kinds of climbing roses, sharing one trellis. They are all in glorious bloom. The light pink one was a gift from our local wine merchant, Roland. I don't know the variety, but it's a little like a Cecil Bruner in that it grows vigorously, smells, wonderful and blooms a single time during the year. The purple is a charming ancient variety called Veilchenblau. The third is a Ghislaine de Feligonde, a special rambling rose which produces beautiful blooms throughout the season.

Of course our mutabilis rose is the real star. It blooms continuously in all the warmer months and displays several colors on the same plant, as the blooms take different shades as buds, mature blooms, and then as faded ones. Last weekend we stood on the terrace with our clients, all doctors from Paris, and enjoyed it together. It's a bit of a show-off.

Our yellow rose on the front of the house took a bit of a beating in the cold of last winter. We have had to prune it back considerably. But still it is putting out a profusion of blossoms.

In our larger garden, we have an entire bed of rose plants of various varieties. Rick called me over to take a look at this beauty and pronounced it "perfect." It was at that moment, which lasts so temporarily, where its form and color are at their ideal. The sun captured it and made it seem to glow.

If you really love roses, you should visit Rose Notes, a blog by one of my friends, Carolyn Parker. She is the expert and her images are spectacular.

Skies have been dramatic and changeable.

The moon has been full. And of course Venus transited the sun. We couldn't see it, as it was cloudy that day.

It's been such a long time since I've taken you for a walk in our woods. It's such a lovely time of year for a stroll under the trees.

I have been working quite a lot on various art projects. My image "View From Inside" was chosen to hang in an international print show in Richmond, VA. It's the small one just to the right of the sculpture. Rick framed it between two pieces of glass. I like the way it looks floating in its frame.

Here's a sign from St. Suzanne, a beautiful old medieval village not far from us. It's for a storefront where sacred art is exhibited. I find it very amusing how voluptuous this nun is!

Week 50: Storms, Gardens and Shops

One evening this week we had a wonderfully dramatic storm with rain beating down furiously, thunder ringing all around and great cracks of lightening illuminating the sky in sudden flashes. It was of Biblical proportions making one feel as if the end of the world was nigh.  Of course the next morning the sun was shining and the earth was sweet and calm again. I find the weather here so perfect. Storms almost always seem to come when we're tucked into our cozy apartment and we have a front row view across the valley as all the drama unfolds.

I have been enjoying our terrace this week, soaking up the sun and feeling as if I'm in a magical world. The fountain gurgles, everything is in bloom, the scent of iris and rose wafts through the air and the vines climb the walls creating a verdant secret garden. It makes it hard to concentrate on any kind of work. I feel like I'm greeting old friends when one by one the roses come into bloom. My favorite is the old fashioned pink climber on the trellis:

 She grows in and between this little purple bohemian:

Then there's Ghislaine de Feligonde, a very sweet smelling demur beauty:

And the extravagant and generous mutabilis:

We have four white blush tree roses arranged symmetrically on either side of the planters:

And the rather gaudy yellow climber adorns the front of the house almost all summer long:

It's a lot of roses for a small  terrace.

Our garden up above has many more rose varieties, mostly standard teas. They are just beginning to bloom. Rick just came in to show me the big bouquet he collected there. The bare spots will soon have huge dahlia plants which faithfully produce flowers for continuous cutting all through the season.

***

This week I officially opened up our boutique, by arranging cards, prints and small paintings. Visitors are beginning to frequent the village, especially on weekends. The castle is open for the season and Sunday drivers park outside the house and stroll through town to enjoy the calm and quiet charm.

For my blogger friend Janet, I took a photo of this found heart; left over ink in my mixing dish. She published one she noticed a few weeks ago. When I spied this, I was thrilled. I love the idea of finding random hearts here and there as one walks through the world. I'm all for happy signs and secret messages.

We also rearranged the downstairs sitting room for summer. During winter the chairs focus on the fireplace. There is nothing like a big roaring fire in our large fireplace when it's cold outside. But once the fire season is over, it's time to change the furniture around into a more communal arrangement.

We took a walk every day this week. Just below the village is an incredible field of poppies. It reminds me so much of Italy.