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Canoe canoe?

by bwoolley Posted on August 27, 2011

Finally, an outing like I love ‘em! On Thursday, Dan and Pascal invited me to join them for a barbecue and canoeing on the Huisne, the river that runs through Nogent-le-Rotrou.

We started out at their place for lunch, with Pascal’s mother and niece, Kim.

After a barbecue lunch (hamburgers and fries, the way life should be!) we went into Nogent and found the Nogent canoe and kayak club. The Huisne is the river that flows through Nogent, and I was looking forward to seeing things from a water rat’s point of view! (We did see a water rat, by the way…)

When we finally found the club, we were given life jackets to wear (obligatory, even though the Huisne is at most about four feet deep, from what we could see…) We’d been given instructions to wear closed shoes, and so I wore my Converse sneakers. But when I got there I realized I was an idiot; I have some perfectly wonderful water sandals and some Tevas, and they would have been more appropriate. But the canoe and kayak club adheres strictly to French legislation, and they’re most likely used to vacationers who don’t know much about the water or boats.

As soon as we had on our life vests and we had been given strings to attach our sunglasses to our heads, we set off for the place north of town where we’d be dropped off.

There was a man fishing by the shore, and he waited, slightly amused, while we got the canoes into the water.

And we were finally off. Yes, I was there too – with Dan. But of course, she who takes the pics is rarely depicted herself! (There’s a photo of me in the gallery below.)

The canoe trip lasted for about an hour and a half – or perhaps a bit longer, as we weren’t in much of a hurry. We were going with the sleepy current, and it was a lot more fun to just “go with the flow” than to paddle like maniacs. We did have to use a little muscle from time to time, as there were a few really shallow places where we went temporarily aground, and a few places where the current suddenly woke up and tried to take us into the bank.

Most of the time we could have been anywhere at all. The gentle bends and common foliage reminded me very much of the Deerfield river in Massachusetts, and of places I’d been swimming in Vermont. As I’d never done this sort of thing in France before (as I’ve mentioned before, this is the first time in almost 30 years that I’ve spent the summer in France) the afternoon was like a mini-vacation.

I’ll let you discover the afternoon through the gallery on this page (click to go there!)

One last thing: I spoke to the man in charge of the club, and apparently they canoe and kayak all year. As I have a 3 mm wetsuit (if Jane’s old wetsuit actually fits me…) I’m actually thinking of joining the club. And… he told me that the scuba club has its last session for the summer tomorrow morning – so I’m going to go by the pool to inquire about becoming an “initiatrice” – or someone who is legally and technically qualified to give scuba lessons to beginners.

Yay! Finally some fun on the horizon!

XOXOXOX

Posted in France, News, Photos | Tagged canoe, Huisne, kayak, Nogent-le-Rotrou, Perche, vacation | 4 Comments

August on two continents

by bwoolley Posted on August 21, 2011

Home again in the Perche.

“Home is where your stuff is.” I don’t know who is credited with saying it first, but I say it again, and it’s new to me. I have had stuff in every corner of the earth for so long that I haven’t had a sense of “place”… until now.

I have returned to what is my current “home”, because my stuff is here… in the Perche.

If the heart had a bigger say in things, if I LET my heart have a bigger say in things, I would perhaps not be calling this “home” – but practicality has the upper hand here. And so I am home.

The plants are dry (in spite of the rain; the overhang on the roof doesn’t let the gentler rains do much for the plants along the front of the house.) My first grown-by-me tomato has been eaten, my uncooked and abandoned artichokes have flowered on the kitchen counter, a surrealistic bouquet to herald my return. My dogs are in good shape and we were mutually enchanted to be reunited. The house is spotless, thanks to my Danielle, and my bookshelves are up and filled, thanks to Hamid and Michel.

My time in the U.S. was bittersweet. Saying goodbyes and hellos. Loving New York City. Loving Bar Harbor.

Sailing with Barbara in her sailboat moored off the Bar Harbor Inn (sleeps 4 if one decides to go far enough that sleeping is on the agenda.)

Making dinners in Alfhild’s loft.

Joyfully bean-bag tossing at John’s fabulous house with a bunch of lovely, uncommon thespians.

Dedicating a beautiful granite bench to Jane (not to her memory, but to her; she is still alive in my mind, awol…)

Almost a hundred people gathered to mourn and express their love for Jane. Volleyball and swimming and camaraderie. A sit-down dinner, speeches, and then kayaks floating off during the night… Someone even brought fireworks.

Sprinkling Jane (along with Pippi and Jamie), Joselyn and Uncle Tony into the bay. Quite a sprinkling of ashes sort of day. So much so that sprinkling ashes almost became mundane, in an odd way.

On August 13th the moon was full. And all day I felt a sort of unreal horror that it must be true, it must be true, if so many people are here in Brooksville, it must be true.

Gourmet sushi lunch in Sullivan Street, long drives filled with edifying listening and conversation. Elena and Terry’s house in what used to be a printing press in Varick street. Playing the piano in the buff. Breakfasts at Café This Way. Helping sort through Joselyn’s things. Crystals, journals, clothes. Stuff.

Haydn’s “Creation” by summer Maine people, a performance that would outshine many heard in Paris. Limited internet access, which most certainly contributed to the success of my stay.

Cats and children and Asian dinners prepared after a whirlwind shopping trip in the Bowery. Potato pancakes and chicken soup. Secret gardens and empty greenhouses. Scandinavian candy shops and Bagaduce Lunch.

On again, off again. Happy, sad. But a very good visit nonetheless.

No more words, here are more pictures (click to see the albums):

- Jane’s Memorial, Brooksville, Maine, Saturday August 13, 2011

- Photos of New York City

And one last photo to explain why I gave up (after 20 years) trying to teach English in this country. This was taken in the train station connected to the Roissy airport when I arrived on Friday:

Posted in France, General, USA | Tagged friends, friendship, Jane, Maine, memorial, NYC, summer, travel | 4 Comments

It’s already July

by bwoolley Posted on July 6, 2011

Almost 10 pm. Still light outside, very light, light enough to get in some weeding in the garden if I felt like it. (These hayrolls (“roll, roll, roll in ze hay”) are on the other side of my driveway.)

But I don’t feel like it, not right now. I feel like just enjoying being here, in this place that has so unexpectedly felt like home from the very start.

Today I went into Paris to take the last of my things out of Evelyne’s apartment, as there will be other people using it during the summer. It took much longer than I’d expected, of course, and by the time I’d finished I was worried that the traffic leaving the city (going in the same direction as I) would be unbearable.

It wasn’t unbearable, I’d made it just in time. We didn’t really move along as fast as I would have liked until I got out of the Ile de France, but we did a sort of easy accordion dance which was mostly composed of forward-moving motions.

When I forked off onto the A11 after the toll booth I knew I was home safe. Nobody lives out here. Never any traffic, except when the Parisians all hit the road at once to get south at the start of some school vacation period.

I listened to RTL as I drove. And when, all of a very sudden, the radio started to fade, just before the sign announcing that I was in the “Eure-et-Loir”, just before the long hill, I felt an unexpected sense of relief, of satisfaction. Ah. Out of Paris radio range. Out of the hurly-burly (my God, where did THAT word come from??) and into the sanity of the French countryside. My French countryside.

I have a teeny garden. I have tomato plants. With little baby green tomatoes on them. Some of the plants came from Mark Indorf as seedlings, others I bought at a local “pépinière”, on sale (3 plants for 1 euro) because if nobody bought them they were going into the trash. I had to rescue a few of them.

I have a few wildflowers growing along the fence, where I threw some seeds some weeks ago. I should have done it earlier in the season, but I’m new to this gardening stuff.

I have some new bushes (abelia grandiflora) which I bought because they were variegated. There is so much green all around (yes!!!) that I’m more drawn to the yellow and red things I can make grow, just for variety. The Baronness (Elisabeth) agrees, and is happy with my choices. Is happy that I love my garden. I’m keeping all of the little cards that tell me the names of my plants because I can never remember them otherwise.

There is also some lavender, and I have three sorts of thyme (which is doing well now that I’m not watering it at all) and a jasmine and a bamboo and a struggling Japanese maple in a pot and some basil (green and purple).

And I have a barbecue. David and I set off on a mission last weekend to find one, and we did. It was the cheapest model that Leclerc had to offer, and it was 50% off because it was the floor model. It’s a long way from the barbecue I imagined – the sturdy type with an extra shelf for steaming things – but it’s doing the job. Dan and Pascal came for lunch, and we inaugurated the new barbecue (after a perfectly respectable apéritif moment, of course!)

I have a table and chairs made of (cheap) teak, and a parasol. The only thing I’m missing now is a hammock with a stand.

And this evening I was invited for the first time to have an apéritif with Pascale and Jean. Jean is the Baron’s son, and he lives in the “big house” which is not as big as the château, but is quite lovely anyway. Jean mows my lawn (unbidden) with his rider-mower, and Pascale has a wine and spirits shop in Nogent. And horses. And a very old Jack Russell terrier, who was NOT pleased that Cricket and Micah were also invited to the apéritif. “No leashes”, Pascale instructed. “I can’t stand to see dogs on leashes in the country.” Could I resist?

I took a bottle of champagne from our St. Dizier adventure, and they took out some of their “house” champagne. Pascale, the expert, preferred mine. I sense a new business deal in the offing. I’ll be glad to be able to buy “my” champagne from her, and not have to to go St. Dizier to get it!

Pascale is half English and half American, and very French. She insisted we say “tu”, and as the Jean spread slice after slice of bread with the pâtés and other delicious things that Pascale sells in her shop, we learned that we like each other.

They’re nice people. Not neurotic, not snobby, just really decent people. Also “pratiquant”, which means they go to church. I haven’t yet tried to get into my own sort of “new-age” ideas with them, that will be for another apéro. Or dinner, or lunch. Or something.

But this coming Sunday morning I’m going to church in Souancé, because a cousin of Jean’s was just ordained as a priest and will be officiating. And he lived in Cambodia for several years and is still in love with it. And I must meet him. And there is a community picnic afterwards (bring your own) and if Allison and Hamid (who are my weekend houseguests) are up to it, we shall picnic.

And Pascale and Jean have offered to help take care of Cricket and Micah while I’m in the States.

And this is a good place. I’ve known it from the start.

Thank you, my Dan, for finding it for me!!

Posted in France, News | Tagged Perche, summer | 2 Comments

Fêting the Renaissance

by bwoolley Posted on June 5, 2011

Hello once again from an inveterate adventurer!! (Although I must say that I’ve had quite enough life-challenging adventures for QUITE a while, thank you…)

I’ve realized lately that Facebook has completely supplanted my blog, and have decided that I don’t want that to continue. I maintain – as I did last year – that my life is far from interesting enough to warrant regular blog entries, but then again, that’s a matter of perspective. Some people say my life is fascinating, but I just stiver on from day to day, most of the time.

About writing…

I don’t remember how to write any more, and haven’t really had the heart to delve back into the question until just recently, but I think it’s time now to try to get back into the swing. I make no promises, but every tiny step forward counts. Right?

Most of you already know plenty about my life (the château, the fireplace, hedgehogs vs. doggies…) from Facebook. So I’ll just pick up from here with a little more information than the turbo-tweets that we all send each other on The Social Network.

I come to you today with some photos and words from a lovely afternoon with my friend Jeanne. She came out from Paris (where she’s visiting from Montreal) for the afternoon, and we went to Percheval, a “medieval festival” in Nogent-le-Rotrou.

Jeanne wanted to come see this fabulous place I call home, and the possibility of seeing some real Percheron horses was a pull too strong for her to resist. So she came out by train for the afternoon.

In spite of impending rain (which did come, alleluia!… at the very tail end of the afternoon) the medieval festival was in full swing.

The Château St. Jean, which was constructed as a fortress in the 10th century, is on a hill that overlooks pretty much the entire region. There’s a huge square keep that was built in the 11th century, but gutted during WWII. There has been a lot of reconstruction, and the site is really lovely, especially for a little-known “local” château.

The fair itself was a pleasure. It wasn’t too crowded; in fact, there were almost more Medieval Personnages than there were visitors, which was fabulous for the atmosphere. The weather wasn’t great, as I mentioned, so perhaps that kept a few people away.

Both Jeanne and I were actually quite impressed at the quality of the offerings: minstrels, artisans, merchants; nothing extraneous or blatantly out of context. Everyone directly involved in the festival was in full costume, and there was even a stand selling the type of clothes many of them wore.

Buggy rides, calligraphy lessons, instrument-manufacturing, swordfights, flag-twirling demonstrations, fresh bread, unusual wines and brews; I can honestly say that it was the best “Renaissance Fair” I’ve ever been to. (I know there are some marvelous ones out there, but I don’t get around much!!!)

So here are some pics from today. I’m not going to take the time to re-touch them in Photoshop, so the photos are “come as you are.”

As I am myself, more and more, with each passing day!

Thanks for visiting.