Blue skies, resolutions and good food

Someone told us that winter this year would be severe but short. I'm certainly prepared for that, though the cold part hasn't happened yet. In fact, I notice that our weather here is often warmer than it is back home in San Francisco. It has been a spectacular fall and early winter. The first day of 2013 found us standing outside next to the church, faces tilted upwards as we soaked up warm rays of sunshine that played hide and seek behind huge clouds.

When we lived in California winter was either to be dreaded or tolerated, although it didn't usually arrive until after Christmas and spring could be counted on by the end of February. I've learned here to really appreciate all the seasons, not least the winter. It has so many charms for me. Here is my top ten list of what I appreciate about wintertime:

1. Tangerines, or as we call them here, clemintines. I seem to remember that we could get them all year in California...here they follow a season. When they come in it's winter and when they go out it's spring.
2. Log fires. The season begins with our little storeroom filled from floor to ceiling with logs. As spring approaches, the room is emptied. The day starts with a fire in the studio and ends with one in the chimney upstairs. If we have guests, or if the day is very cold, we make a fire in the large fireplace in the entry.
3. The quiet. Especially when it snows, of course, it is so calm and silent.
4. Time. When the business in in slowmo, we're free to travel, to visit with friends, to socialize and best of all to spend hours alone in the studio drawing, printing, puttering, dreaming.
5.  Hot water bottle. We warm up the foot of our bed every night.
6. Sunrises. In summer they happen far too early to enjoy. This time of year we can sleep in and still be able to watch the spectacular display of the sun coming up over the distant hills.
7. Stars. In summer, the stars come out far too late to enjoy, but in wintertime, on a clear night, we can stargaze for hours before bedtime.
8. Early to bed, late to rise. The natural rhythm at this time of year makes for long sleepy nights. And without clients to make dinners or breakfasts for, why not?
9. Tree bones. I love to look at and draw naked trees.
10. Warm meals. We love to cook and eat in winter, making stews and soups, warming up our tummies.

Speaking of which, we had a wonderful new year's eve celebration with a group of particularly delightful clients. The menu was:

kir served with rillettes (pork paté) on bread, garnished with a slice of pickle

carrot-ginger soup

scallops

roasted lamb and potatoes with ratatouille

home-baked rolls

a selection of cheeses

apple spice cake and homemade raisin rum ice cream

 

Other recent excellent meals have included fish and chips. Cabillaud (cod) is best for this. James made a gluten-free batter. It was absolutely delicious.

Rick has become a french fry expert.

Our wonderful friend Arnault sent us a bonito shaver and a big hunk of dried fish which is hard as a rock. One grates this up to make dashi, the stock that forms the basis of most Japanese soups.

We made miso soup

and a crisp fresh salad.

***

2013 has begun with the usual resolutions...to exercise more, study French and draw every day. In this last effort, I have created a new blog where I post a new drawing every day. You can find it here:

Week 27: A Week of Extremes

 

the studio window

The week began with sun and bright skies. It was a welcome change after days of gray. The angle of light accentuated colors and cast intense, interesting shadows. It was a great pleasure to work in the studio in the morning, and an even greater pleasure to walk around the village. We rested for several minutes with our backs against the toasty castle wall and let the sun bathe our faces in delicious warmth.

The church had its doors painted last summer, so they are fresh and vivid, especially against the crystal blue of the sky. The little stooped woman who arranges flowers each morning drives her Deux Chevaux from the bottom of the village. It looks good parked in front.

 

The church of Montmirail, just outside our gates

In our terrace the sun played upon the walls, and the last valiant rose opened in the light.

The Virginia creeper has lost all its bright red leaves by now

 

A white tree rose in the terrace garden doesn't seem to know it's winter

The bones of the lime trees show up starkly against the winter sky.  Gilles will arrive in January and prune them back to their knobby stubs, but first he will festoon them with Christmas lights.

One of the four lime trees on the Place de l'Eglise

After a very pleasant reminder of September and October days, the sky clouded over, hinting that the weather was about to change.

 

Clouds roll in

And change it has! We woke up mid-week to find our view obscured and to discover that the first snow had fallen overnight. The castle grounds out the back window look magical.

The castle grounds

Our morning view

In watching the evening news, I see the long S curve that represents the jet stream, so I'm aware that most of Europe and even corners of North American are experiencing this dramatic plunge in temperatures. In Scotland it is minus 14° and one of the coldest Novembers on record. Apparently we can expect the cold to continue for a few weeks. It's a bit early to be this chilly! In our big house, especially when we have so few clients, we can't keep everything warm and toasty, so we have our comfortable zones, (the studio, the bedroom, the office) which we hustle between. In some parts of England people are receiving an emergency subsidy to cover extra fuel costs. Alas, that is not the case over here, so we keep the fires burning and the furnace low.

We always have a book we are reading aloud to each other, and currently it is The Eternal Frontier, by Tim Flannery, subtitled An Ecological History of North America and its Peoples. It starts out with a fascinating and graphic description of the meteorite that plowed into the earth 65 million years ago, creating the Gulf of Mexico and causing the extinction of not only the dinosaurs but of many other life forms, especially in the Northern Hemisphere, in the protracted winter that ensued. Since then, the continents have floated here and there and the temperatures have varied crazily. Did you know that once upon a time, just a few million years ago, North America was a lot like the Serengeti of Africa, with elephants, rhinos, hippos and other such creatures roaming the savannah? The point is, of course, that the climate does change on earth and natural events do occur which can have profound effects on life. Man, however, never before had the power to influence these events. Thomas Friedman likes to call it "Global Weirding," rather than "Global Warming," since the climate change we're causing does more than just warm up the planet, it sends unexpected storms and extremes of every kind. Each year I feel I note the effects more and more profoundly.

Next week we travel to London to visit James and celebrate a belated Thanksgiving. I will have  photos to share and adventures to relate if the Eurostar doesn't break down in the cold, as it did last year. However, I won't be back before the beginning of next week, so my post will be a day or two late. See you then!

Beautiful but frigid