The rain that started last Sunday afternoon continued all
night and on into Monday. What a bore! On Tuesday though it had cleared up and
we went off to see the little house that we (as a family) have bought. We
haven’t been given the keys officially yet but we know where they are kept so
could let ourselves in and have good look around without an agent looking over
our shoulders. While we were in the house, there was a knock at the door and
there stood the village Mayor, to whom we had introduced ourselves a week or so
back. He introduced himself again – in case we had forgotten that he was the
Mayor, perhaps – and chatted away for a few minutes. Very friendly and
welcoming and not at all put out by the fact that our French is still not
fluent. We explained that the house was to be used for holidays for ourselves
and our family, which I think he got the gist of. Why does one’s vocabulary
always desert one at the time it is most needed!
The rest of the week was rather quiet apart from Friday
which happened to be the 1st of May. It is a tradition in France
that on the first day of May, a spear of lily-of-the-valley flowers, known as muguet here, is given out to friends and
family as a token of future good luck and happiness. It’s a charming tradition
that I thought had been going for centuries but apparently it was only started
in the early 20th century when the flowers were sold to signify the
beginning of Spring. So I did a little more research on the plant and
discovered, to my horror, that the whole thing – stems, leaves and flowers – is
extremely poisonous. What a strange gift for good luck and happiness! It is
growing in the garden here, and I did consider picking a piece to take
upstairs, where we had been invited for lunch, but I am now very glad that I
didn’t. Instead we were treated to a magnificent meal by our hostess. Is
everyone around here a wonderful cook? It certainly seems like it.
On Saturday it was again ‘out with the ladders’ as the two
men battled with the last piece of the porch cover. Once again it was a ballet
of balancing one foot on each of two ladders for one of them while the other
juggled heavy power tools without falling off the narrow ledge at the end of
the porch, but they got the job done. Let’s hope the next bit of DIY is less
nerve-wracking to watch.
On Sunday we were taken along to a wine tasting in
Villefranche. More of a wine show than a tasting really. There were about forty
stalls in a large hall, most of which represented wine growers of the area; a couple
from a bit further away. There was a also a display of pocket knives which are
made here in Villefranche; a stall of olives and olive oil; one selling
chutneys and jellies to accompany your meat and other savoury dishes; a stand
of dried ham and sausage; one with the biggest chunks of nougat I have ever
seen; another of macaroons and various sweet loaves, and finally, a stand
selling wonderfully aromatic spices. When I say ‘biggest chunks of nougat’, I
really mean that. After all we are used to seeing and buying nougat in neat little
bars, cellophane-wrapped and very hygienically displayed. These were huge cakes
of the sweet –probably about twenty centimetres high and thirty in diameter. And
not just one, or two of them but a whole lot on the table and who knows how
many more out of sight. I had never realised just what a popular delicacy it is
here in France. .After doing a circuit of the hall, another circuit had to be
made, stopping at some of the stalls to try their wares, and to buy some of the
product, and then we went around again in case we missed anything!
On the way home, we did a slight detour through Morlhon so that
I could at last get a close up view of the church with the lacy steeple. It
really does exist and is not just an optical illusion and is old but not
ancient. In fact it was built just after the First World War, but has lovely
stained glass windows done in the classical style. Old style windows always
have such wonderfully rich colours and these are like that. I imagine that the
concrete steeple can be attributed to the fact that there was a shortage of
iron and steel after the war and this made a good substitute. It is certainly
novel even if it does look a little strange above the lovely old red stone
walls
And so we have come to the end of another week.
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