tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29141227235874036912024-02-07T22:34:17.126-08:00Writing From My "Empty Nest" Welcome to my blog, my name is Heather Francis and I am an author and writer of short stories and poetry. I grew up in Belfast and, since then have lived in Ireland, Germany and France, the latter providing the inspiration for my newly published travel memoir, ‘Bonjour Darling’. Join me as I talk about writing and share with you my love of France, from the comfort of my 'Empty Nest'!Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.comBlogger41125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-24347679908129760822016-06-16T10:03:00.000-07:002016-06-20T10:33:21.946-07:00<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: xx-large;"><i>'Escape To The Chateau'. My Top 10 Tips on Finding Your Dream Home in France. </i></b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Old Presbytery</td></tr>
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I think it is safe to say that all who have dared to dream, have been captivated by Channel 4's current series, 'Escape To The Chateau', as Dick Strawbridge and his partner Angel Adoree purchase and renovate a fairy tale chateau, bought for the cost of a rather basic two bedroom flat in London. </div>
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Dreams come in all shapes and sizes. Some dream of fairy tale chateaux, others a houseboat on the river; for me it was an old presbytery at the heart of French village life. Whatever your French dream, it will come at a price. Like Dick and Angel, this is generally a lot less than we would pay in England, allowing us to make that dream a reality. Today, using my own personal experience of purchasing and living in France, I want to share with you my top ten tips, to make sure you don't pay 'too great a price'. </div>
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<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Choose a property within an easy drive of a local airport.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Don't let your heart rule your head. A 'Coup de Coeur', as the French would say, could blind you to the fact that you are miles from anywhere!</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Check if you are on mains drainage or a 'fosse septique' (septic tank). In 'Escape To The Chateau' their waste water went straight into the moat. It is not uncommon in some rural parts of France to find waste water simply piped to a river, in which case you would be liable for the cost of a septic tank.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Be realistic about your budget and cost of works to be done! We had £20,000 left over and thought we would be fine, but this was not nearly enough.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Do you want to be in a village or out in the countryside? In a village, we found integration much easier than our friends in the countryside, as they often only spoke to their nearest neighbour.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Learn to speak French! Some knowledge is essential.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Check out your nearest market town. A weekly market is an important part of French country life, both for fresh produce and for socialising. </b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Locate the nearest city. It is helpful to have a city within an hour's drive at least. Peace and quiet is fine, but sometimes it is nice to visit the theatre or cinema and get in some serious clothes shopping.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Think carefully if you need an income from your property and factor in the cost of renovating outbuildings etc. We created a very successful B&B, but if you decide to do the same, be sure you don't mind sharing your house with strangers! We also found the cost of renovating the house left nothing for the barn and had to forego an excellent source of income.</b></li>
<li><b style="font-size: x-large;">Most importantly, pick the house that fulfills your dream and start your adventure. Good Luck!</b></li>
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<b>Well I hope my tips have been helpful and you find your dream home in France soon. The story of our relocation to the 'Old Presbytery', is told in my book, 'Bonjour Darling' by Heather Francis. Available on Amazon, by clicking the book image top right.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5X9DB7LlyKOQmmP_aXpxRs9GTFeOg7ozZT6hMs7CPccWM0Qcf6EZIF9qPxQpSjH4_nD1cnoVKai-imxjBVFxotDCAYsMUiLlHRzXswj_HCZhBlzJv9KSQDZSUESBgvKQwnJyLswJqWJ8/s1600/Grow-your-Own-Castle-4-CULTURE-xlarge_trans%252B%252BJDHzOKu5CCGaLA2FVVReeXPtHHHJVD0BnDQRjckeg2s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5X9DB7LlyKOQmmP_aXpxRs9GTFeOg7ozZT6hMs7CPccWM0Qcf6EZIF9qPxQpSjH4_nD1cnoVKai-imxjBVFxotDCAYsMUiLlHRzXswj_HCZhBlzJv9KSQDZSUESBgvKQwnJyLswJqWJ8/s200/Grow-your-Own-Castle-4-CULTURE-xlarge_trans%252B%252BJDHzOKu5CCGaLA2FVVReeXPtHHHJVD0BnDQRjckeg2s.jpg" width="124" /></a><b>The last episode of 'Escape To The Chateau', was screened on Channel 4 on Sunday 19th June. It is now available on Chanel 4 Catch Up. </b><br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-46991574398305259572015-09-23T10:15:00.000-07:002015-09-23T10:15:15.526-07:00A Taste of Lyon for my Birthday!<br />
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<i>Welcome on board everyone! It's been a while since my last blog, but
let's just say, as well you know - life gets in the way sometimes!</i><br />
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<i>Never
mind, why not put aside its stresses today, as I invite you to
share in my birthday treat; a weekend in Lyon, the gastronomic capital
of France. Well, it was a milestone birthday, so I guess it had to be a
pretty good present and Lyon certainly didn't disappoint.</i><br />
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<i>We flew into <span class="st"> <i>Lyon</i>-Saint Exupéry</span>
airport on Friday afternoon and took a taxi from the airport to our
hotel, booked by my lovely daughter and her husband, as a treat for mum.
That's when the fun began! Arriving at Mama Shelter Hotel Lyon is a
great way to forget your age, because it's all about having a good tim<cite>e. It begins at reception, where the hotel's unique design by Philippe Starck ignites the senses and encourages even the older guests to prepare to let their hair down! </cite></i></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mama Shelter Lyon - Reception</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mathieu Viannay</i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoq1aZefz0rbnOkovTOk50CoHrZVpCalmnP5cvzNFBlm0s5NDwM1buLqgEFw8AEKgpUwSgmx9YQ2Nsbz0i3UFQIyXHx5Qngo-1CaUgCQ_YOgUUC-wxGFyGqodJsyceYTVfJ58RcFwJEZc/s1600/lyon_07a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoq1aZefz0rbnOkovTOk50CoHrZVpCalmnP5cvzNFBlm0s5NDwM1buLqgEFw8AEKgpUwSgmx9YQ2Nsbz0i3UFQIyXHx5Qngo-1CaUgCQ_YOgUUC-wxGFyGqodJsyceYTVfJ58RcFwJEZc/s200/lyon_07a.jpg" width="200" /></a><i>After settling in that evening we met in the bar for a cocktail, before heading off to the centre of Lyon, where we were about to experience fine dining at it's best. Our table at La Mere Brazier found us in the capable hands of Mathieu Viannay, their two Michelin starred chef and what followed can only be described as a gastronomic adventure! The evening was finally topped off with a visit from Mathieu himself and leaving we stepped out into the night, our taste buds still savouring the memory of haute cuisine at it's best. </i><br />
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<i>Saturday found us exploring the city as it straddles the wide River Rhone and is overlooked by the amazing Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere, perched high above the city. Let's just say, for shopping and those looking for a bit of retail therapy, Lyon is hard to beat and, as my lovely daughter is expecting twins, we spent the day in its many baby boutiques. Finally the evening is topped off with a visit to a Korean restaurant with a tasting menu to die for. Oh! Let's not forget the beautiful 2006 Riesling specially chosen for the occasion by my son-in-law, which literally blew my mind!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8bIGSKjmc74UFwAr9I7tiY7xaavR299sHFzI8PONsiMAsRQfUi-exjOV6uBAKt9n3BS6fKapZiLFveMGaDN089RJfyXITool2HqKXgVY4U2zM3UqWpYWav0tPEFRnxPfSbpS6xgnlX1k/s1600/IMG_2100%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8bIGSKjmc74UFwAr9I7tiY7xaavR299sHFzI8PONsiMAsRQfUi-exjOV6uBAKt9n3BS6fKapZiLFveMGaDN089RJfyXITool2HqKXgVY4U2zM3UqWpYWav0tPEFRnxPfSbpS6xgnlX1k/s320/IMG_2100%25281%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Basilique Notre Dame de Fourviere</td></tr>
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<i>Sunday morning, after a lazy breakfast at the hotel, we returned to Lyon centre and climbed the steep cobbled streets to explore the Basilica. Breathtaking, is the only way to describe the interior of this late 19th century building. It is dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who saved the city from bubonic plague, the 'Black Death', that was sweeping Europe in 1643 and its unique interior is bedecked in mosaics of beautiful shades of blue and gold. In fact every inch of this amazing building has been tastefully bejewelled to amazing effect. Katie and I loitered around the altar, sitting down, as we have in so many holy places, to soak up the unique beauty of man's creativity to the glory of God. </i><br />
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<i>Back down to earth and, after admiring the view of the city from the front of the Basilica, we head down in search of Les Halles de Lyon Paul Bocuse, Lyon's renowned covered food market. The market named after Lyon's famous chef, Paul Bocuse, houses stalls featuring every ingredient of Lyonnaise cuisine, both to buy and also for tasting. We wander its stalls in mouthwatering amazement at the diversity of its produce from oysters, cheeses, wine and meats, to tapas and breads of every possible size and shape. Lining the counters, shoppers sit on high stools tilting their heads back to savour oysters washed down with crisp, white wine. I end my birthday weekend sharing seafood with the people I love, before heading back to the airport with treasured memories of a beautiful city and the taste of Lyon still lingering on my tongue.</i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Les Halles de Lyon-Paul Bocuse</td></tr>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-52679134640551058402015-05-17T09:30:00.000-07:002015-05-17T14:22:51.067-07:00Turning Back Time - Our Move to the French Countryside<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GMLey6AzcOsiaghW1o1vx2n5HsfvGtKjS6VABfOnkAj2fUe-0fuR5qy_vh0VfRaB9__L14l1HeVej8cTv9rN4osF8SinRyWnk8CXdYO3KruK2H6tt99X1HukI2FeLr2J4UjIy1wXNsM/s1600/pezenas-house-french-rentals-tranquil-hilltop-village-of-aumes-187-1586006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-GMLey6AzcOsiaghW1o1vx2n5HsfvGtKjS6VABfOnkAj2fUe-0fuR5qy_vh0VfRaB9__L14l1HeVej8cTv9rN4osF8SinRyWnk8CXdYO3KruK2H6tt99X1HukI2FeLr2J4UjIy1wXNsM/s320/pezenas-house-french-rentals-tranquil-hilltop-village-of-aumes-187-1586006.jpg" width="320" /></a>Welcome back everyone! Glad you could join us. I hope, like me, you are enjoying a warming cup of coffee or perhaps a relaxing glass of wine, depending on the time of day you have chosen to drop by. I thought today I would elaborate on the 'relaxing' theme and take some time to share with you the tranquil life I discovered, after my husband and I moved from the busy and often troubled city of Belfast, to a little village in south west France. </div>
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We arrived at the old presbytery, our new home, to find ourselves catapulted into the centre of village life. Still stressed from the journey and with our body clocks set firmly to the pace of the city, we awoke the next day to a new life, where we would gradually discover that the clock had been turned back thirty years!<br />
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It was the church bell that would be our time piece from now on; no need to clock watch here. We would soon find ourselves up with the Angelus Bell, it's chimes at 6am calling everyone to rise and get those chores done before the heat of the day. Once again at noon, the bells signified it was time to down tools for the seemingly obligatory 2 hour lunch and, finally in the evening, the 6pm chimes ringing out across the village, called everyone indoors for a relaxing aperitif before dinner.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmzeEFMxO-cQBiqfeqR-7I4mOr_b-OAHUqEpcliejV2wpgSCOg2yB-suvxsNxW6BBl1OFChN4bH7WPKr2a3gE6F2g_NkhSZdB4Zotm2BwV75rclcWhn4VWNK9NuQhUKYIlwQrh6sTvuY/s1600/Market-537374707_8dc3915ff3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitmzeEFMxO-cQBiqfeqR-7I4mOr_b-OAHUqEpcliejV2wpgSCOg2yB-suvxsNxW6BBl1OFChN4bH7WPKr2a3gE6F2g_NkhSZdB4Zotm2BwV75rclcWhn4VWNK9NuQhUKYIlwQrh6sTvuY/s200/Market-537374707_8dc3915ff3.jpg" width="200" /></a>On Mondays, the nearby town was transformed into a busy colourful street market, where we would stock up with fresh produce for the week and spend lazy hours over a coffee in the village square, catching up with the local gossip.<br />
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Neighbours shared produce from their gardens and helped one and other out with seasonal chores.<br />
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At Christmas, everyone gathered in the local town hall and made decorations, gifting each house in the village with a brightly coloured cracker to hang on their front door.<br />
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Entertainment was 'homespun', centreing around the village hall as it had done down the ages. We didn't need an excuse to celebrate; there was a fete for every occasion, each accompanied by a hearty meal and washed down with the local wine and Cognac, as dancing carried on into the early hours.<br />
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Very soon the stress of the city became a distant memory, as the pace of life slowed down in tune with nature and the surrounding countryside. We began to spend more time out of doors, busy in the vegetable plot. It was over a glass of wine on the terrace one evening, we agreed we might have gone back in time, but we certainly didn't want to go 'back to the future' anywhere else!<br />
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The story of our French adventure is captured in my book, 'Bonjour Darling' by Heather Francis. Below you can read two of the reviews on Amazon which have given the book it's '5 Star' rating.<br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-901982293260034052015-03-10T11:35:00.000-07:002015-03-11T03:42:58.805-07:00Bonjour, Belfast!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hi, Guys! Welcome to my blog! For those of you who have been sharing life with me now for the last four years, it's great to hook up again and, for anyone joining us for the first time, please make yourselves at home in my, 'Empty Nest'! You are very welcome!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkfl4GKYQpZMyZbz0UfI1yXgHgKZBE2azapv2WxZQvRlbTsG79p_YGHZEx2chFuFzF7G9D3sMJk1lFGMOlfwEjCR2PH9w8TlDYGFVKf4UQCGcInngbYKsLsGuqQSF8QNysLHL3UjbXez8/s1600/6a00d83451761069e2019aff2b2879970c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkfl4GKYQpZMyZbz0UfI1yXgHgKZBE2azapv2WxZQvRlbTsG79p_YGHZEx2chFuFzF7G9D3sMJk1lFGMOlfwEjCR2PH9w8TlDYGFVKf4UQCGcInngbYKsLsGuqQSF8QNysLHL3UjbXez8/s1600/6a00d83451761069e2019aff2b2879970c.jpg" height="199" width="200" /></a>My name is Heather. I am a writer and lover of all things French. Since the 'young' age of 40, I have found myself feathering an empty nest. Well, I say empty; if you look carefully in the corner behind a few twigs and a feather you'll find my husband Ron; a rather reluctant adventurer, preferring the quiet life. He has, much to his surprise, shared a wonderful three years living '<i>La vie en rose</i>' with me in south west France. </div>
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As you may guess from the title of this post, 'Bonjour, Belfast', we have been forced by circumstances beyond our control, to migrate back to our home town of Belfast. It is from our nest here in the suburbs of this interesting city that, reliving every moment of our French adventure, I have written and published, 'Bonjour Darling', the funny, poignant and amazing true story of our time in France.</div>
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Life and blogging wait for no man, however, and so I will continue to share with you my thoughts on living here in Belfast, life in my empty nest and, of course, I will share with you my reminiscences of life in France, when a rainy day in Belfast leaves my nest a bit soggy!</div>
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For now, let me leave you with a memory that transports me every time I revisit it. We are travelling home through the Loire valley on a balmy evening at the end of June. The river is wide and snakes effortlessly through the vineyards. Passing sleepy little towns, each clustered around a village square, where the spire of a tiny church marks the centre, and on, following the river as if caught up in its flow, mesmerised by its beauty. Turning a corner, the river stretches out on our left and, like a golden ball of fire, the sun sits on the horizon where the river meets the sky, creating a sparkling pathway across the water. It beckons us to stop the car and get out. Looking into the crystal clear water, the emerald green reeds obey the direction of the flow; like life, it is unstoppable on its journey. We stand in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the gentle lap of the water and then turn back to the car. At home in Belfast, as I write this post, I share with you the lesson I learnt from the river Loire that night. For a peaceful life, don't resist, just go with the flow! </div>
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I hope you have enjoyed your visit to my empty nest and that you will call back again soon. In the meantime, please check out, 'Bonjour Darling', the true story of our French adventure. You can read the reviews and order your own copy, by clicking on the image of the book on the top right of this post.</div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-36758775515215423952015-01-15T09:23:00.000-08:002015-01-19T03:26:07.468-08:00It's Good to Walk!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Murphy - Sunset at 'The Edge of the World'</td></tr>
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Hi, everyone! So glad you could join me this morning. I've just been listening to the latest health news on the radio; apparently a 20 minute walk a day is the key to longevity and it got me thinking.... </div>
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I have to agree; never mind the benefit to your heart and cardiovascular system, walking has always been my way of sorting out life's problems. Every step taken, seems to put so much distance between you and what's on your mind. It's a theme explored in the new Reese Witherspoon movie, 'Wild', where she tells the true story of Cheryl Strayed who walked 1,100 miles of America's West Coast on the Pacific Crest Trail, after losing her way in life. Subsequently she finds ultimate healing through the experience.</div>
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Of course, most of us won't ever feel such a need, but it does help demonstrate my point about the therapeutic benefit of walking. I don't know about you, but I am sure most of us have a favourite place to walk, where we feel a spiritual connection with our surroundings. If you have read, 'Bonjour Darling', you will be aware of my constant companion, 'Murphy' the West Highland terrier, he and I spent a lot of time exploring the Charentaise countryside of south west France and shared a very special destination for our walks. <br />
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We christened it, 'The Edge of the World'. It is briefly mentioned in chapter seventeen of the book. Before arriving at our destination, we would follow a slowly ascending track about a mile and a half long. On our left, rolling hills were dotted with terracotta roofed farmhouses and to our right the valley dropped away below us. Murphy always ran ahead, both of us separate, but always connected, until we reached the end of the track. The summit was marked with a cross and around it on either side the land dropped away, giving us 360 degree views that seemed to stretch to the edge of the world. We would sit down together, letting the silence and space take away all our cares. </div>
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It lead me to thinking; Do you have a special place to walk or a special companion?<br />
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If you would like to join Murphy and me on more of our French adventures, the book of our true story, 'Bonjour Darling' is available on Amazon. Rated 5 Stars. Just click on the book image top right, to read reviews and order your copy.</div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-12547662118112279312014-12-31T08:10:00.000-08:002015-01-02T03:09:04.113-08:00Sharing my French adventure!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Welcome everyone to my first post of 2015! For me, 2014 has been a great year for writing and seeing my travel memoir, "Bonjour Darling" published at the end of October, was the icing on the cake. </span><br />
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Little did I know this was only the beginning. You have taken 'The Old Presbytery' to your hearts and, as you share in my adventures there, your feedback has been wonderful. For me, this whole experience has been so much more than selling books, although that has gone amazingly well, the joy is sharing my story with other people and having strangers come up to me asking after characters and places that we now have in common. </div>
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One of my favourite reviews on Amazon ends with these lines..</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"><i>I</i></span><i style="color: #111111; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 19px;"> savoured every page as I would have a marvellous box of chocolates. One only wants to come to The Old Presbytery and actually share a meal with the hosts and their charming neighbours. Thank you and ... Bravo!</i></div>
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This review particularly thrilled me, as I now know my readers are genuinely engaging with our story and the characters which so colourfully bring it to life. This is a place I love and also people I love; to find you too share that love is heart warming. Many of you have asked for pictures of 'The Old Presbytery', as up to now it has only existed on the pages of the book and in the corners of your imagination. Well, to help you enjoy our true story even more, you don't have to imagine any longer. Below, I share with you a before and after picture of the house at the heart of our village and the heart of our adventure!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'The Old Presbytery' before renovation</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">'The Old Presbytery' after</td></tr>
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That just leaves me to thank all of you who are enjoying the book, especially the 10 winners of the Goodreads competition. I hope your signed copies have arrived safely. I will leave you with another review from Amazon, and look forward to sharing again in my next post...</div>
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<i>Loved it! Was so sad to reach the last page, I really thought I was in France with Heather Francis. What an idyllic life! Can't wait for the sequel.</i></div>
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To obtain your copy of 'Bonjour Darling', just click on the book image top right! This will take you to Amazon, where you can find out more.</div>
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<br />Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-44634108110882530372014-11-01T07:39:00.000-07:002014-11-12T01:02:19.430-08:00'Bonjour Darling', Time to Celebrate in South West France!<br />
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A warm welcome to all my readers on this special day, as you help me celebrate the launch of my book, 'Bonjour Darling', for sale on Amazon. By now, I hope you are well acquainted with 'the old presbytery' and this beautiful region of south west France where our story unfolds. I was so pleased that your were able to join me for our virtual soirée in my post, 'Join me for an Apéro in the French Countryside' - all the characters you met there and many more await you in the pages of the book.</div>
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Before I leave you with a synopsis of the book, I would briefly like to share with you the reason I have told my story. When you read the book, it will become clear to you why my husband and I risked everything to start a new life in France, but we could never have anticipated what an adventure awaited us. It was only several years later, when family circumstances dictated I should return to Ireland, that my longing for our French life compelled me to put down on paper our life-changing story. Initially this proved an amazing therapy and, as I coped with the often grey wet days in Ireland I lost myself in this absorbing task of reliving every minute of our time in France. To my surprise, my writing style captured the humour in so many of our encounters and, as I survived my exile back home, reliving every minute of our time in France, I am sure I felt the warmth of the Charentaise sun on my back where I sat at my desk in the study.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">'Bonjour Darling' by Heather Francis</span></div>
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This is the true story of a couple from Northern
Ireland, whose lives having been turned upside down, feel they have nothing
left to lose. Together they grasp a second chance at happiness and selling
everything, purchase a run down ecclesiastical building at the heart of a tiny
village in south west France. Little do they know when they arrive in
Saint-Allier, on a wet and windy November evening, that the old presbytery, not
unlike the wardrobe in Narnia, would turn out to be the door that fast tracks
them to the heart of village life.</div>
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Once through the door, their new life is peppered
with colourful characters. Take for example their next-door neighbour, the
ever-present Henri, who having married a much younger second wife, is on a
constant quest to hone his body to perfection. In his effort to impress all and
sundry, he proudly declares at every opportunity, “Beaucoup de
musculation!” Or there is, of course,
‘Joyce’ the colourful, effervescent English lady with a mop of curly hair, who,
propelled along by her two Shih Tzus, Sybil and Thorny, calls everyone 'darling'.
She can be heard regularly across the supermarket, greeting the bemused French
shop assistants with her theatrical cry of, “Bonjour, darling!” You must call
by her little piece of England and meet her lovely husband, Jerry. The list
goes on, turning this true story into a hilarious adventure that attracts
comedy situations like the best French farce, culminating in a bedroom romp
with a touch of ‘O, la la’, as they greet their first B&B guests!</div>
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Don’t get me wrong,
however, this is a story of light and shade. When tragedy comes to the little
village of Saint-Allier, Heather and Ronnie stand shoulder to shoulder with
their French neighbours. Together their voices become one, as they experience
an amazing feeling of total acceptance and integration.</div>
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This book is a must read for anyone who has ever
dreamed of relocating to France, as we follow our intrepid pair on their
journey to full immersion into French village life. In this case, made entirely
possible by a unique and beautiful property at the heart of a close-knit
community. The result, a genuinely amusing true tale of how laughter, for
Heather and Ronnie, did in fact turn out to be the best medicine under the sun!<br />
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To order 'Bonjour Darling' today, simply click on the book image top right.<br />
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Finally, readers, I hope you really enjoy my story. It was only ever initially written for myself, but I just had to share with you my passion for this wonderful part of France and the people there who made us so welcome. I would just like to finish with a photograph of the countryside around the 'old presbytery' and to say I hope you will continue to drop by and visit me, as I carry on with my blog.</div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-47551980663709243472014-10-06T07:00:00.001-07:002014-10-14T10:27:01.063-07:00Autumn creeps in across the vineyards!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-qpdxL24vqkoJoQc0VwZaRk9mZyZgRPJ_Yg9h1S0Lm943LdBgniB0WWGcfq1hN65mV_eEpLkijV7m_FBNr49HFy6-tAOkZR-FvUJp_sbpTtPqY95DlfQ5k0FPcZdYXlMlHkjLHsEG9Y/s1600/sunSet_1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-qpdxL24vqkoJoQc0VwZaRk9mZyZgRPJ_Yg9h1S0Lm943LdBgniB0WWGcfq1hN65mV_eEpLkijV7m_FBNr49HFy6-tAOkZR-FvUJp_sbpTtPqY95DlfQ5k0FPcZdYXlMlHkjLHsEG9Y/s1600/sunSet_1.jpg" height="126" width="400" /></a></div>
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Welcome back to 'the old presbytery' in our little corner of south west France. Autumn is creeping in across the vineyards and the vines now, stripped of their precious harvest, stand resplendent in their golden leafage. At the bottom of the garden the sun sets behind the old log store. Piled high with wood dried in the baking heat of summer, it is the clue to our survival here in the French countryside, when winter temperatures often drop below -14c. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjO7oErcHhteikxbDfxTKfxLulgfCgKIMJTdwMAKdREK-KktK533dE9Rh5eSVO0IN6m7BqvIudFyXZ_t4odCSvodXmKJfLuyn2n4kWeNMAQq-5k-wUJrkAFzIHuYfU5GMFlPoBQQHxrM/s1600/images+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNjO7oErcHhteikxbDfxTKfxLulgfCgKIMJTdwMAKdREK-KktK533dE9Rh5eSVO0IN6m7BqvIudFyXZ_t4odCSvodXmKJfLuyn2n4kWeNMAQq-5k-wUJrkAFzIHuYfU5GMFlPoBQQHxrM/s1600/images+(2).jpg" height="131" width="200" /></a>Inside 'the old presbytery' we welcome the change of seasons, and, just as we basked in the heat of the summer sun, in the mists of Autumn our attention turns to the wood burning stove, where it sits patiently at the heart of the home. During our first winter here in the Charente, we relied, almost totally, on a rather antiquated oil-fired heating system, which battled manfully to heat the large rooms of the presbytery with their high ceilings. Not only did it fail to provide enough heat, but it soon became evident it would have required its own oil refinery to keep it supplied with fuel! We did also, optimistically, light a fire in the huge grate in the living room, which produced an impressive blaze, as it devoured the massive logs we slavishly fed it. Alas, however, our valiant efforts only served to warm the birds nesting on the chimney above, as all the heat went straight up the chimney! </div>
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Finally, observing those who had lived here a lifetime we noticed that everyone heated their homes with wood and that the ritual of stocking the wood store over the summer months provided economical and efficient heat throughout the winter. At last, we had discovered the 'wood burning stove' and it was to transform our lives. Not only did its powerful heat fill the house with ambient warmth, but its flickering flames proved more entertaining than a night in front of the television. </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Now we say, "Roll on, Autumn!", as we close the shutters against the evening chill and share family life around the heart of our home. There is something primaeval about a living fire that connects us with our ancestors of long ago and warms us like nothing else.</span></div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-62076291416895860932014-09-03T13:56:00.000-07:002014-09-06T04:42:00.847-07:00Join me for an 'Apéro' in the French countryside!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWdg19ThkcntsVJnTKU2FbuBtNn-1BA1nRK-3VChPkHWhKgsvBo978vdtO7k93TkJ8io_fHZSizQLuxyWv03fZ1cOMS7nWcydJdAcqxtUcm-xAU5DyWQ4d3IXJpf1lqb8mzZUQE6QI84/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWdg19ThkcntsVJnTKU2FbuBtNn-1BA1nRK-3VChPkHWhKgsvBo978vdtO7k93TkJ8io_fHZSizQLuxyWv03fZ1cOMS7nWcydJdAcqxtUcm-xAU5DyWQ4d3IXJpf1lqb8mzZUQE6QI84/s1600/images.jpg" height="192" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">So glad you could drop by readers. With the count down to publication of my memoir, 'Bonjour Darling' well under way, why not join me for an 'Apéro' at the old presbytery. You can sample a taste of French country life in Saint-Allier, the fictional name I've given our village, to protect the identity of my dear friends and neighbours.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">First of all, let me explain the meaning of the term,'Apéro'. It is of course the shortened form of the word,'Apéritif ',meaning an alcoholic drink served before a meal. In the French countryside, however, </span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuyCsiNYwJSKC7XX5_i3fEVZCMQ9KOVCq1mvNVkP0cz_R8b36yBOapQ78VGrh_0WAdT-P5raSEoQZufFeySQjGoIMPuFQpWwyS7EMCOix-Afg5wgPfmK-o8v47olWy7y6AX9i4kvIn0U/s1600/lapero1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuyCsiNYwJSKC7XX5_i3fEVZCMQ9KOVCq1mvNVkP0cz_R8b36yBOapQ78VGrh_0WAdT-P5raSEoQZufFeySQjGoIMPuFQpWwyS7EMCOix-Afg5wgPfmK-o8v47olWy7y6AX9i4kvIn0U/s1600/lapero1.jpeg" height="164" width="320" /></a>the word also describes a way of entertaining guests, involving a choice of drinks and nibbles. It may or may not be followed by the host offering a meal; often guests return to their own homes to dine. It is, therefore, a great way of getting together at the end of a day, relaxing and sharing news with friends and family.<br />
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At our Apéro, while we wait for the others to arrive, I can offer you a choice of Pastis for the men, a liqueur flavoured with aniseed, which magically turns milky on the addition of water or, of course, a locally produced Cognac. Ladies, for you, I recommend a Pineau as drunk by all the women in the village, both young and old. This fortified wine, made almost exclusively here in the Charente, is a rich golden colour and boasts quite an alcoholic kick!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n7NkqnE9XYnjRqu9MchQ559uXq659eUIKKqEKVJ7WBTokNKIRuXxHvPv9f515Ss49fwgaxw1NoDqABDDFeuZwL4-gWgaNmWJUokw_ObaSoDJihuG0ynSOQCwABL65TGMOpE57ZbbnkY/s1600/ce4e6aeadc546eb17cf475688bd1c35a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n7NkqnE9XYnjRqu9MchQ559uXq659eUIKKqEKVJ7WBTokNKIRuXxHvPv9f515Ss49fwgaxw1NoDqABDDFeuZwL4-gWgaNmWJUokw_ObaSoDJihuG0ynSOQCwABL65TGMOpE57ZbbnkY/s1600/ce4e6aeadc546eb17cf475688bd1c35a.jpg" height="151" width="200" /></a>If everyone has a drink now, please make yourselves at home and enjoy the ambiance of our lovely old presbytery! Still just a little bit shabby, but, I hope you all agree, since the renovations are complete, also just a little bit chic. </div>
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With guests beginning to arrive, it's simply left up to me to introduce a few of the characters you will meet in the book. 'Je vous présente' my neighbour, the handsome Mayor of our village, Monsieur Gilles Charbonnet and his lovely wife, Danielle. Henri Buisson, my neighbour on the other side, who in his mid-forties is proud to present his twenty-three year old trophy wife, Chantal and their daughter, Amélie. Pierre Junot can't fail to impress you with his American English, learnt during his service in the French navy - Ladies prepare to be impressed by his movie star good looks and immaculate quiff! And how could I forget the flamboyant Joyce, who, representing the ex-pat community, greets both French and English with a hearty, 'Bonjour, Darling!', which she reckons keeps everyone happy!</div>
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Well folks, I'll leave you to mingle, until the book is finally published, when I invite you to discover how two Irish people give up everything, for a second chance of happiness in the French countryside, only to discover that laughter is the best medicine under the sun!</div>
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<br />Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-20974218845382416822014-08-23T06:56:00.000-07:002014-08-23T07:02:39.413-07:00Saint-Emilion, at the heart of French country life!<div style="text-align: center;">
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Welcome back, readers! So glad you dropped by for another taste of French country life. Today, I invite you to join me on a short trip, just 50 minutes from our village, to the beautiful medieval town of Saint-Emilion. Before we arrive, I thought it might be helpful to give you a quick potted history of this amazing place, at the heart of one of the most famous wine producing regions in the world.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entrance to L'Eglise Monolithe</td></tr>
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As the guide books tell us, the first human settlements around Saint-Emilion can be traced back to between 35,000 and 10,000 BC. It wasn't until the Roman occupation began in 27 BC, however, that the first vines were planted around the town. Christian monasteries and churches began to appear at the beginning of the 7th century, as the region was on the pilgrims' route to Santiago de Compostela and from the 11th century onwards the region experienced great prosperity. During the course of the Hundred Years War, Saint-Emilion changed hands many times between the English and French, finally becoming permanently French in 1453. The town remained fortified until the end of the 18th century when the fortifications were dismantled, all of which had an adverse effect on the vineyards. It was not until 1853 that Saint-Emilion started to recover due to the success of the vineyards, which now produced wine recognised across the world as exceptional.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHBOQAWVgJTPCmXz6NzHpvalQWxPuXl6_r20tFFqRNTdtiQWJFlCQExUPzC-Oh1vhFl-WXDaDyD2gBbAjYgC5RfRhiRltFKCIqdnzTBt7460ikxdssuo3zMGyySdhVxJJzmLIh7JB-kU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUHBOQAWVgJTPCmXz6NzHpvalQWxPuXl6_r20tFFqRNTdtiQWJFlCQExUPzC-Oh1vhFl-WXDaDyD2gBbAjYgC5RfRhiRltFKCIqdnzTBt7460ikxdssuo3zMGyySdhVxJJzmLIh7JB-kU/s1600/images.jpg" height="104" width="200" /></a>Driving through the valley towards Saint-Emilion, we get our first glimpse of the town clinging to the hillside overlooking the vineyards. One writer describes it, as being built with solid ochre limestone extracted from the kilometres of local underground galleries, the result being a medieval village whose subtle harmony of warm colours, varies in shade with the intensity of light as the day progresses. It is interesting to note at this point that Saint-Emilion is a 'World Heritage Site', famous for its catacombs under the town and resplendent in its position high above the Dordogne Valley.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steep cobbled streets of St Emilion</td></tr>
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As visitors we can discover the amazing 'Eglise Monolithe', whose impressive belfry peaks 133 metres above the roofs of Saint-Emilion. Below, hewn into the rock, this troglodyte chapel is the oldest building in the village, housing the burial place of Saint Emilion himself, the monk after whom the town is named, whose followers began producing wine here commercially in the 8th century. Exploring the steep winding, cobbled streets, known locally as tertres, we will discover fascinating houses, Romanesque remains and amongst the many wine outlets offering tastings, there are art galleries and craft shops galore.<br />
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Our trip to Saint-Emilion would not be complete, however, without mentioning the wine industry. Much of the local wine is produced at the many Chateaux surrounding the town. The majority of these will offer wine tasting and guided tours of the vineyards providing the visitor with a fascinating glimpse into the world of viticulture. You will discover the main grape varieties of the region to be Merlot, Cabernet Franc and a sprinkling of Cabernet Sauvignon. I won't go any further into the actual wines produced, in this post, but for those with an interest in wine who wish to know more, I recommend checking out ;<br />
http://www.thewinecellarinsider.com/bordeaux-wine-producer-profiles/bordeaux/st-emilion/<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chateau Canon St Emilion</td></tr>
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As we take our leave of this magical place, I would add for those wishing to discover Saint-Emilion for themselves, the town boasts a wide selection of restaurants and hotels offering wonderful hospitality to the traveller.<br />
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Well, readers, I hope I have whetted your appetite for this beautiful historical town, that has a very special place in my heart. Someday soon, you too may watch the sunset over the Dordogne Valley and from within the ramparts of Saint-Emilion, raise a toast to some of the best wine in the world!<br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-37668109391008827262014-08-12T08:54:00.000-07:002014-08-12T08:54:36.831-07:00The importance of the TGV to French country life!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to the third post, in this series based around village life in south west France. Today, I want to set aside a little time to share with you my thoughts on the TGV (Train `a Grande Vitesse), or in English, the high speed train. Discussing what a life line it can be for those choosing to relocate to the French countryside. </div>
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And so it transpired, from the start of our French adventure, that the station at Angouleme would play a major role in our new life. It began one dark rainy night in November, when at 9pm precisely (as the TGV is almost always on time), we stumbled onto the platform, blinking through the station lights to a whole new world that awaited us. Little did we know that evening, this same platform would set the scene for so many happy encounters through the coming years. There would be hugs and kisses as a steady stream of loved ones emerged through the crowds to greet us on their regular visits, not to mention our own occasional trips to Paris. On these rare, but none the less exciting trips, my husband and I would exchange our country life for the bright lights of Paris. You can read about one of these trips, if you would be interested, in my post entitled, '<i>Stepping Out Of My Empty Nest, Into The Lights Of Paris'</i>, written back in September 2012.<br />
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The train station also holds another happy memory for me, as it was the destination for my first solo car trip in France. Driving into the city to collect my daughter from the train, I remember the feeling of achievement as I set out from our village. Here I was in a foreign land, driving on the opposite side of the road, in a car with a gear stick on the right, while negotiating round-a-bouts and underground tunnels. Arriving at the station, as I chatted to the car park attendant in French, I got such a buzz; here I was at last living in a foreign land and feeling at home. Picking my daughter up from the train, we sped home through the French countryside and I could tell, she too, was proud of her mum!<br />
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The TGV is 30 years old now and provides France with a fast, clean and efficient service, cutting down travel time between major cities dramatically, as it reaches speeds of up 200 miles an hour, with an excellent safety record. French citizens and expats alike can enjoy connections all over France and across Europe with journeys like Paris to Marseille only taking 3 hours and 5 minutes. I have included a map here showing current lines and both new and imminent ones. You will note that LGV refers to 'ligne `a grande vitesse' or high speed lines. Perhaps food for thought when you are planning your next trip to France or looking to relocate to the French countryside.<br />
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To conclude this post, I would suggest to any of you out there thinking about choosing a place to live in the France, bear in mind the importance of being near a branch of the TGV. There are still areas of central France where the TGV doesn't operate and it can add to a feeling of isolation, but then again, perhaps that's just what you're looking for!<br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-79452969421624771452014-08-03T09:37:00.000-07:002014-08-03T09:37:52.920-07:00My Love Affair with France!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Bienvenus, mes amis! Welcome back, everyone. Apologies for a longer than normal interval between posts, but sometimes life just gets in the way. This particular upheaval, involved moving all my books to a new venue and it was during this mammoth task, I found myself sitting on the floor in the middle of a pile of packing cases, holding the book that initially sparked my love affair with France.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigATEz9cAShCDJnpe5GbBJ7P3HYRqrkseKkcHRKC2XUQF9JDwkNsskd-F5of82iKjIGgw6wRQOGKe2276ul-WZ7iAmRGSWnaKOKKJfsioKVZFDBaU_5CdUb18wFul8nhxeJ8utE_rLKwU/s1600/article-1332041-0B984BCD000005DC-644_306x423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigATEz9cAShCDJnpe5GbBJ7P3HYRqrkseKkcHRKC2XUQF9JDwkNsskd-F5of82iKjIGgw6wRQOGKe2276ul-WZ7iAmRGSWnaKOKKJfsioKVZFDBaU_5CdUb18wFul8nhxeJ8utE_rLKwU/s1600/article-1332041-0B984BCD000005DC-644_306x423.jpg" height="200" width="144" /></a>Carol Drinkwater is the author of a trilogy of books, The Olive Farm, The Olive Season, The Olive harvest and later, Return to the Olive Farm. All of which I consumed voraciously, but the crowning glory of my enjoyment of Carol's works, is the treasured book I hold in my hands today. The Illustrated Olive Farm, a companion to her best selling series. What a joy, after reading of this beautiful life changing place, that the author should be so generous as to share with her readers this collection of newly written prose and pictures, putting flesh to the bones of what we, the reader, can only have imagined.<br />
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Inspired by Carol's writing of her love affair with the handsome French film and television producer, Michel and their discovery together, of an old villa, high in the hills above the bay of Cannes, I was later to follow in her footsteps and purchase the old presbytery, of which you are perhaps now familiar, from my recent blogposts.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17KJ6T5HZQOxcGBujnarYX0u0hiy_DuZwxcJoERzRJUlNHCwPa6lkE_e9Npng1pnG9ijV8Ul25HiEeIl0UgyMlnjCv7ClIZvRRQwDjiJGiG7v3ql9MQ2aF0opIv2uFki_Pku7YDtMbuo/s1600/41nbFIaaScL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg17KJ6T5HZQOxcGBujnarYX0u0hiy_DuZwxcJoERzRJUlNHCwPa6lkE_e9Npng1pnG9ijV8Ul25HiEeIl0UgyMlnjCv7ClIZvRRQwDjiJGiG7v3ql9MQ2aF0opIv2uFki_Pku7YDtMbuo/s1600/41nbFIaaScL._SY344_BO1,204,203,200_.jpg" height="200" width="68" /></a>If you dream of a life in the South of France, I highly recommend that you get hold of Carol's books. She writes beautifully, with a great love of nature that flows effortlessly from her pen. Originally an actor, you may remember her from her role as Helen Herriot in the television series, 'All Creatures Great and Small'. It was after she met her husband, Michel,who proposed over dinner on their first date that her life was to drift further away from acting.<br />
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Michel invited her to join him in the south of France, where he was attending the Cannes film festival. While he was caught up in the hurly burly of the festival, Carol passed her time swimming, sauntering the streets of the old town, daydreaming and gazing in local estate agents' windows. It had always been her dream to live by the sea. Little did she know, she was about to discover the house of her dreams, that would change her life forever.<br />
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The villa, built by Italians at the turn of the century was named 'Appassionata', a musical term meaning, 'with passion'. Sitting high above the bay of Cannes, its terraced slopes fell steeply towards the Mediterranean. An old olive farm, well off the beaten track, it was completely overgrown and lay derelict, but Carol and Michel fell in love with its faded grandeur. Leaving England and setting up life with the man she loved, her story is filled with passion, for the handsome Frenchman, a beautiful old olive farm and the Provencal life in all its splendour. We follow her through an evolution that sees her become a best selling author, film maker and a successful olive producer.<br />
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Readers, I urge you to dive into this trilogy and surface in the glittering sun of the Mediterranean. It could change your life forever, the way it changed mine!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Appassionata </td></tr>
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<br />Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-70254470042148624392014-06-07T10:15:00.000-07:002014-06-12T14:24:08.335-07:00Food and French Country Life!<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me on the steps of 'The Old Presbytery'<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Hi everybody, welcome back to a taste of village life in the Charente region of south west France. I am really looking forward to sharing with you my passion for this beautiful corner of France.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This week I thought we would look at food. The subject seemed an obvious choice, as not long after moving here, I realised while talking to a French person, no matter what the subject, the conversation would always come back to food! Yes, it is not a myth; the French are passionate about food. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It is indeed through food that our neighbours reached out the hand of friendship to us in so many ways. Francoise and Jacques, an elderly couple from the village, had the most wonderful <i>potager</i> (vegetable garden). I saw them there each morning when I opened the shutters and Jacques would still be there in the evening, when the church bell called him in for aperitifs at seven. During the growing season, they often had more than they needed and Francoise would appear at the door and present me with a basket full of the most delicious tasting tomatoes, broad beans or whatever happened to be in season. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I remember a lovely afternoon shortly after I got to know her, when she took me down to her cellar. It was like stepping back in time. Francoise preserved food as they have done in the Charente for years, bottling it in <i>Eau de Vie</i>, (a clear colourless brandy made by fermentation and double distillation of grapes). Not only fruit, but she showed me glass jars of <i>Foie Gras</i> and something called </span><i style="font-size: medium;">Civet de Lapin</i><span style="font-size: small;">, which turned out to be jugged rabbit. She went on to explain she had preserved the<i> Civet</i> about thirteen years earlier and described</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">how the flavour would improve with keeping. It was our great honour to be served this ancient stew a few weeks later for Sunday lunch with the family. Yes, I did feel a little nervous tucking into something that was celebrating its thirteenth birthday, but I have to agree with Francoise that the flavour was out of this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the next village, a weekly street market was held throughout the year. This provided us with the opportunity to sample a wide range of different specialities from around the Poitou-Charente region. It is worth pointing out that some of the best sea food in France comes from the Atlantic coast of our department, which is famous for its oysters and muscles. One of the best day trips I can remember was to La Rochelle on the coast, where I enjoyed the perfect '<i>Moules Frites'</i> (muscles and chips) in a little restaurant overlooking the harbour, complemented beautifully by the smell of the Atlantic ocean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, I couldn't finish this chapter on food without mentioning my favourite restaurant, 'Chateau des Tallyrand' in the small town of Chalais. The setting for this restaurant is within the castle itself, approached by its original drawbridge. The magic continues inside with the reception one gets from the host, a Monsieur Jean-Louis Bruneau. Jean-Louis welcomes each guest personally and remembering names and faces, he manages to make each guest feel special for the evening. Behind the scenes, he presides over a professional kitchen with talented chefs, creating delicious food in the true French style, utilising local, fresh and seasonal produce. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I hope you have enjoyed this look at French country food in my region and perhaps someday, if you read the book, it will help provide the perfect backdrop. In the meantime, I look forward to the next time we meet, when I will introduce you to more aspects of our life in France and living the dream!</span><br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-2452087018857061362014-05-30T14:40:00.000-07:002014-06-03T02:41:21.241-07:00Bienvenue! Welcome to French country life.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewz7URr5HwX0so8YRnHpZQr3NvgtYWhyIKBxYZaoAGl1EVx-jMDgSTGkgsVTL0DW0_zyWZ7xbSkRi9K1h14U3MHJH55ZglbzzVyNMy06NZT9YgTW_LxDkiWgCc3Et1xNLNsWh3gHewag/s1600/header_article_tmpphpkmP4bI.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgewz7URr5HwX0so8YRnHpZQr3NvgtYWhyIKBxYZaoAGl1EVx-jMDgSTGkgsVTL0DW0_zyWZ7xbSkRi9K1h14U3MHJH55ZglbzzVyNMy06NZT9YgTW_LxDkiWgCc3Et1xNLNsWh3gHewag/s1600/header_article_tmpphpkmP4bI.jpg" height="125" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvyPY8xGmfmwSbJRnsASJc5BMXDlZ1IFV3rcpf2WGlsiC6zejanEmQa9HfdUYnMW73VFEGn3egTNnP4CaYrdGrhPE2F0FwhjeeKK8EdNMQ9AOTzOcZ67x78tiDrUuPzV2z7fcYYTzqVA/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtvyPY8xGmfmwSbJRnsASJc5BMXDlZ1IFV3rcpf2WGlsiC6zejanEmQa9HfdUYnMW73VFEGn3egTNnP4CaYrdGrhPE2F0FwhjeeKK8EdNMQ9AOTzOcZ67x78tiDrUuPzV2z7fcYYTzqVA/s1600/download.jpg" height="175" width="200" /></a>Hi, everyone! Welcome to the first in this series of posts from the Charente region of southwest France. Over the next months, I look forward to sharing with you my experience of life in a small French village, at the heart of this beautiful region. As you can see from the map to the right, the Poitou-Charentes area is divided into four separate departments. In the south of the region you have Charente-Maritime - the coastal area to the west and further inland La Charente - the gently undulating hilly area where we made our home. If you look closely at the map, to the left of the word Charente, you can just make out the name of Angouleme, the large fortress town, which is the capital of this department. The old presbytery where our story is set, is situated in a little village 30 minutes to the south of here.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsGm7U-AWwDjIZ3_qTSZGf3RuUD7_-ZYbA0EommDGnQbuCbeXZ63RN1W_cJT3uXIWtnqXwrlGyuHMLRHs4BkfQouhsqy3r2rXGdTpDIXH8aZinmxTihy5jYRRXH7bN3HUEOcGDo6y_Axc/s1600/2-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsGm7U-AWwDjIZ3_qTSZGf3RuUD7_-ZYbA0EommDGnQbuCbeXZ63RN1W_cJT3uXIWtnqXwrlGyuHMLRHs4BkfQouhsqy3r2rXGdTpDIXH8aZinmxTihy5jYRRXH7bN3HUEOcGDo6y_Axc/s1600/2-3.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a>One of the reasons we chose this part of France was the climate. It boasts some of the mildest and sunniest weather in the country, after the Mediterranean coastal area of the south. Around our village the countryside is vast, the Poitou-Charentes region itself covering some 10,000 square miles. The main crops in the rolling fields are sunflowers and maize, with some vineyards mostly growing grapes for the famous Pineau des Charentes. This is an aperitif created almost <span style="text-align: justify;">exclusively in the Charentes. It is a fortified wine made from a blend of lightly fermented grape must and Cognac eau-de-vie; a rich golden aperitif with quite a kick. It didn't take us long to acquire a taste for it!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaq762dYWhM18HNqj_zxbIlGnYbYRiArPRYmM0EbE056XYkMeVwt3JXLVm9Bq4_cLIe1IskiihvHKryiSuOZbaMtF_3hxg9HoRjYoVjxinQTXSh4_0p7Ab_uH3nE6JLS08BznGTf3Q0Sw/s1600/images+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaq762dYWhM18HNqj_zxbIlGnYbYRiArPRYmM0EbE056XYkMeVwt3JXLVm9Bq4_cLIe1IskiihvHKryiSuOZbaMtF_3hxg9HoRjYoVjxinQTXSh4_0p7Ab_uH3nE6JLS08BznGTf3Q0Sw/s1600/images+(3).jpg" /></a>Surrounded by such beautiful countryside, it is not surprising that the 'Randonnée' is the most popular form of recreation, with Petanque or Boules a close second. It is basically a cross-country hike, often organised by the village walking club or just a group of friends. We had only moved in to the presbytery about a month, when the door bell rang and I was greeted by a group of French ladies of a certain age, dressed in sturdy walking shoes and brandishing long hiking sticks. They had kindly called to ask me to join them on the weekly Randonnée, which met each Wednesday in the village square. Through their kindness, I soon got to know my neighbours and improve my French, (although I have to say, at first, walking and talking French was a tall order and I often returned exhausted). It was, however, the most wonderful way to discover the countryside. For the first time in my life, I walked alongside sunflowers well over six feet tall, with heads the size of huge dinner plates and marvelled how they all turned towards the sun, as it journeyed across the clear blue sky.<br />
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Coming from a small country like Ireland, I soon discovered the size of France and the vast openness of the countryside would be a wonderfully liberating part of my new adventure, which was to blossom into a life long love affair with this beautiful place. In the months ahead I look forward to sharing it with you.<br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-9866922181225405102014-05-13T15:09:00.000-07:002014-05-16T01:03:16.032-07:00Life in the south of France, in tune with the Church bells!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome back everyone! After a little Tuscan dreaming, I think it's time to come back down to earth. Recently I found myself with some time on my hands. The book is finished and while I endeavour to search for a publisher, I had the idea that it would be fun to introduce you to the house at the heart of my memoir, 'The Old Presbytery'. </div>
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We spent three wonderful years here, in the centre of a tiny village in the Charente region of south west France. In my next blogposts, I hope to share with you some of our experiences; renovating an old French house, discovering this beautiful area of France and discussing the food of the region. Of course our story will be in the book, but what a wonderful opportunity this is, to set the scene for you. I can introduce you to the amazing house which remained at the centre of our French adventure, until family circumstances dictated our return to Ireland. Not before our renovation was complete, however, and the old presbytery was up and running, as a beautiful 'Chambre D'Hote'.<br />
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The picture below shows the house shortly after we bought it. As to how we found it, well, it was a case of love at first sight for me. Not in an estate agents window, but on the Internet hundreds of miles away in Ireland. We did, of course, eventually view the property, but only after exploring many other regions. What we didn't fully appreciate when we moved in, however, was that the position of the house at the heart of the village and next door to the Mayor, was to make our French adventure a complete integration into village life. It meant our lives would be bound up entirely with our French neighbours, often proving both challenging and hilarious, but ultimately never boring!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption">The Old Presbytery</td></tr>
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The house was built in 1852 as the presbytery for the village Church, which stands nearby. Our neighbours had many happy memories of the place. They enjoyed telling us of times, as children, when they would attend confirmation classes in the front room and of summer Fetes in the grounds, when the whole village gathered to enjoy a family day out. They explained that our old barn in the garden, housed the 'corbillard' or hearse. This was a beautiful old horse drawn affair, brought out when any one in the village passed away.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN4-6E6_oBvjWo_tyE-1lu10Su3TXnRwf19saCec7uQz8_2N35dOYtZfEDAI8XGPFH9ljhs05xAl5Gl3nbtBNLf4mLM1jbr1Nl-EXOMnZ6D24dmvjdrIRpeRRjHUhnY4WctRfCI-8ASJc/s1600/images+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN4-6E6_oBvjWo_tyE-1lu10Su3TXnRwf19saCec7uQz8_2N35dOYtZfEDAI8XGPFH9ljhs05xAl5Gl3nbtBNLf4mLM1jbr1Nl-EXOMnZ6D24dmvjdrIRpeRRjHUhnY4WctRfCI-8ASJc/s1600/images+(2).jpg" /></a>And so it was that as we renovated this lovely old place, we lived our lives by the bells of the Church. Rising in the morning early, before the mid day heat, to the sound of the 'Angelus' and downing tools at seven in the evening, to enjoy an aperitif at the end of the working day.<br />
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Join me next time and I'll share more of this lovely region of France and village life in the Charente. </div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-77979515351003997802014-04-26T11:39:00.001-07:002014-04-26T11:59:12.624-07:00Tuscany-Lifted into Gothic splendour to fly with the Angels!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Hi, everyone! So glad you dropped by. Just this week, I came across an e-mail from my daughter. Nothing strange there, I hear you say, and you would be right, as we often keep in touch this way. This e-mail, however, is different; it contains something of a first for me - a link to a recording of a piece of organ music. On first inspection, the subject matter of the e-mail is entitled, 'Memories of Tuscany' and below, the only text reads - 'Remember hearing this music playing in the little chapel we went into?'</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfyHntUl9mfxTAswwe08KBaR2AsZKyhwvQ2bJaWzbJfVxlr0L3Gm_ZtGNzrcbW-v7OyYTuDMGB-rRysY4DikdnCekfPItrjXY5pW-Gf__kyhOWGcRJQA59eSAfGeWPVWSfkqWR6xS7Hc/s1600/Italy+2011-081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXfyHntUl9mfxTAswwe08KBaR2AsZKyhwvQ2bJaWzbJfVxlr0L3Gm_ZtGNzrcbW-v7OyYTuDMGB-rRysY4DikdnCekfPItrjXY5pW-Gf__kyhOWGcRJQA59eSAfGeWPVWSfkqWR6xS7Hc/s1600/Italy+2011-081.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a>The air inside is still, its coolness pouring over our sunburnt shoulders, feels like cleansing holy water, as we step inside the little chapel, out of the relentless heat of the mid-day Tuscan sun. Around us a heavenly silence hangs in the dark, damp air, so quiet that its assault on our senses is as profound as any cacophony of noise one can possibly imagine. Gradually, our eyes adjusting to the light, we focus on marble pillars, drawing our gaze upwards to the Gothic splendour of a deep-blue roof, dotted with golden stars. On either side of us simple wooden chairs face the altar, where a painting of the Virgin Mary gazes down lovingly. Her face illuminated by the light from the many ornate candles on the altar below, reflects the light of Christ in a tranquil corner of our busy world. Suddenly, the emptiness of this holy place is filled with organ music and, as our souls rise on the notes of Bach, we find ourselves lifted into Gothic splendour, to fly with the Angels.</div>
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Unbeknown to me at the time, Katie had taken out her phone and recorded the moment and playing it back today, here in my 'empty nest', I stepped out of the Tuscan sun once more, into the beauty of that magical place. You can read about our adventures, a mother and daughter enjoying 'La Dolce Vita' in the Italian sun, in a blog post I wrote some time ago now, entitled - ' Nesting in a Medici Hunting Lodge in the Hills above Florence'.</div>
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Perhaps you too enjoy visiting churches on your travels? Please do feel free to share your magical moments!</div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-29777884853774941132014-04-10T10:05:00.000-07:002014-04-10T10:05:06.173-07:00The Art of French Eating!<div style="text-align: center;">
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Welcome back, everyone! I hope you enjoyed our trip to 'Parfums Sucrés' in my last blog post. Since writing it, I have just finished reading, ' Mastering the Art of French Eating' by Ann Mah. It got me pondering my own years living in France and the profound relationship I developed with food, learning at the table of my wonderful French neighbours and sampling regional dishes from Paris, to the shores of the Cote d'Azur. </div>
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Ann Mah, the wife of an American diplomat is a lifelong foodie and francophile. When she learns of her husband's new posting to Paris, she begins plotting the gastronomic adventures they are going to have. Shortly after their arrival, as they settle into Parisian life, however, her dream of a romantic sojourn in the City of Light is brought to an abrupt end, when her beloved husband is unexpectedly posted to Iraq for a year and Ann finds herself alone in Paris. </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Faced with isolation, Ann must make a life for herself and it's not long before her love of food draws her out in search of comfort. She sets off on a journey around France, looking for the signature dishes of each region, delving into their history, how they are traditionally made and at the same time meeting the amazing characters involved in their production. Dishes like cassoulet, boeuf bourguignon and the infamous andouillette sausage, are just a few of the recipes to give up their secrets. Temptingly, Ann ends each chapter with a regional recipe for us to try at home. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassoulet</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">My own French food experience can be summed up in a word, which Ann explains very clearly towards the end of the book. The word is 'gourmandise'. It is a wonderful word, for which there is no exact English equivalent, but it sums up the attitude of the French to food, an attitude which is ingrained in them from birth. It is basically the cultivation of an educated palate, the art of fine dining, the enjoyment of a good meal. It originates from the French word for taste, 'gout' and is all-encompassing in its description of the art of food appreciation.</span><br />
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In our little village in France, when you pass the school gates, the menu for the week is printed each Monday morning for parents and children to eagerly anticipate. There will be starter, main course, a cheese course and of course a dessert. Also from an early age the curriculum will include lessons in food appreciation and education of the palate. I know this all sounds a bit extreme, but what it has done for the French is to equip them with the ability to really enjoy good food.</div>
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Next time, I will talk more about the food in my region of France, La Charente. In the meantime, if you too are a francophile, with a love of good food, why not get hold of a copy of Ann Mah's book, 'Mastering the Art of French Eating' and enjoy!</div>
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My Favourite place to eat - 'Chateau Talleyrand', Chalais France</td></tr>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-5560741821896126602014-03-15T10:42:00.001-07:002014-03-15T10:42:14.465-07:00'Parfums Sucrés' - My Guilty Pleasure!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Welcome to south west France, where I spent three wonderful years. This morning I would love you to join me in the city of Angouleme, as I return to my favourite <i>chocolatier</i>, 'Parfums Sucrés' on Rue Postes.</div>
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Now, we all need a treat sometimes and a visit to, 'Parfums Sucrés' is my guilty pleasure! </div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Before we go in, though, let's step back and admire the Artisan approach of the French, to the concept of the Salon de Thé. Each pastry is a work of art, crafted with love and the display under the glistening lights of the </span><i style="text-align: justify;">comptoir</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, resembles a jewellers window. The pinnacle of excellence in the genre can be enjoyed at Ladurée on the Champs Elysées, where the beauty of the macaroons is mirrored in the decadent decor of the salon itself!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCHAv90t8uUWmkJtOR-WpNSCFJgrpXmJ4RxoZ0IN51Ts0oZB5cOCmdWRMs6yX6dpwMFVGGCKCta4lyFDmDSmjljQXyp_kxuLwUfqdClYMXPaOyUBmsXE2VO1Bl0tpe-BX9zKREWCbQtg/s1600/angouleme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnCHAv90t8uUWmkJtOR-WpNSCFJgrpXmJ4RxoZ0IN51Ts0oZB5cOCmdWRMs6yX6dpwMFVGGCKCta4lyFDmDSmjljQXyp_kxuLwUfqdClYMXPaOyUBmsXE2VO1Bl0tpe-BX9zKREWCbQtg/s1600/angouleme.jpg" /></a>Of course, Parfums Sucrés cannot match Ladurée with its sumptuous decor, but its pastries and wonderful chocolates, crafted with the same love and attention, would not be out of place in the salons of Paris. There are, of course, many such establishments in towns all over France. Today, I invite you to come with me to my favourite, in the heart of the walled city of Angouleme, perched high on its promontory overlooking the beautiful Charente countryside.</div>
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Once inside, we find ourselves surrounded by displays of chocolates and biscuits beautifully wrapped in coloured cellophane. Pretty pink and white meringues, next to delicious cocoa covered truffles, make delightful gifts and point the way to the counter or <i>comptoir, </i>where one is invited to choose something to enjoy in the salon above. After a difficult decision, where one is spoilt for choice, we make our way upstairs to our table.</div>
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No frustrating queueing with an awkward tray at Parfums Sucrés. Instead we make ourselves comfortable at a table by the window, while a pretty waitress arrives to take our drinks order. At this point, for me, there is only one choice, their delicious hot chocolate. It arrives in its own beautiful little pot, with accompanying cup and saucer. On pouring, it can only be described as liquid chocolate! Simultaneously, as if by magic, the culinary works of art chosen at the counter below, appear plated and placed on the table for our delectation. There is nothing left to do, but sit back and enjoy the sophisticated atmosphere of the Salon de Thé. </div>
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But don't take my word for it! Why not try out your linguistic skills - with this review of Parfums Sucrés in French.</div>
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<i>Je suis une personne très gourmande et j'ai trouvé mon paradis des gâteaux. La qualité est excellente, patisserie fine, le choix varié avec des thèmes en fonction des saisons et des évènements, comme la fête des mère, ou halloween etc... Une multitude de possiblités de faire des cadeaux sympas et gourmands. L'accueil est très bon, de bons conseils à écouter. Je recommande fortement, moi je ne peux plus m'en passer...</i></div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-65435149161559546722013-12-07T11:35:00.000-08:002014-12-23T03:20:57.070-08:00Stepping Out of my 'Empty Nest' into the Lights of Paris..... Revisited!<div class="columns-inner" style="background-color: #f23832; color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', Trebuchet, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; min-height: 0px;">
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I was thinking how I might celebrate Christmas with you all and decided, what better way to do it than to share with you once again, the blog that you have made my most successful post ever! It's the true story of a magical Christmas experience and I have had fun revisiting it, hopefully you will too.....</div>
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Bear with me, readers, as I jump from nest to nest, but you will probably have gathered by now, in the last decade I have moved my 'empty nest' between Ireland and France, and so, as I feather the empty corners and tidy the twigs, metaphorically speaking, reminiscences of recent adventures are never far from my mind!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfmnzuCtt0mQHZyAR0mfK9hUPfk0eAw25ACoFvAUCQvBajtxCv_A-aNd8S9SdJkMS0RZHyZxll7s7VIPZBUdjgXv0-6tAEvt6yB633HsuRpBKW-wYKqNV0qJx_gLTk377BAtTEod3YZQ/s1600/French+sky+at+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfmnzuCtt0mQHZyAR0mfK9hUPfk0eAw25ACoFvAUCQvBajtxCv_A-aNd8S9SdJkMS0RZHyZxll7s7VIPZBUdjgXv0-6tAEvt6yB633HsuRpBKW-wYKqNV0qJx_gLTk377BAtTEod3YZQ/s320/French+sky+at+night.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a>With the summer coming to an end and the idea of winter leading me to ponder where I might be nesting this Christmas, my thoughts took me back to early December in my French nest, in our little village in the Charente region, of South West France. </div>
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As usual, things were quiet, everyone having closed their shutters against the freezing temperatures outside, while life beyond ambled along, driven by the church bells' call to rise at seven and stop for lunch at noon. Bright lights and glamour were confined to distant memories of the big city, while here in the countryside the only visible illuminations to be found were in the amazing night skies, where shooting stars darted between galaxies of twinkling lights and the full moon alone illuminated the fields and hillsides below.<br />
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Just when my husband and I had become accustomed to wearing clothes as a matter of warmth rather than style and gained our evenings' entertainment from throwing another massive log on the wood-burner and sitting mesmerised, while watching the flames lick hungrily at the glass door. Suddenly we found ourselves on the TGV to Paris, flashing through the French countryside, at well over a hundred miles an hour. Where were we heading? Yes, it seemed rather unlikely, but we were heading for a glamorous fashion show on the 'Champs Élysées', hosted by one of Spain's best known actresses, Victoria Abril! </div>
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It's worth mentioning at this point, as one will find out eventually in my book, that many of the outstanding moments of my life can be traced back to the intervention of my amazing daughter, and this one was a perfect example, as it was Katie who had orchestrated this huge event to raise money for charity.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingN8S44tbXugZ-1h4Lu2ZFr0ujpygGK1DDAPEubSXO5umluORmcuqKY8te60twKkz4rSjCZ1-ubYfBKxaeEKoeOeHMToHvw6cxk_9OLF76cp0bGc-QJXs1iFnSP7NbCRfL_ptCEomyck/s1600/Champs+Elyseese.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingN8S44tbXugZ-1h4Lu2ZFr0ujpygGK1DDAPEubSXO5umluORmcuqKY8te60twKkz4rSjCZ1-ubYfBKxaeEKoeOeHMToHvw6cxk_9OLF76cp0bGc-QJXs1iFnSP7NbCRfL_ptCEomyck/s320/Champs+Elyseese.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>Having booked into a hotel; in the comfort of our luxury room, my husband and I sipped a glass of champagne, as we peeled off the layers of woolly garments designed for survival in subzero temperatures and for the first time in months slipped into our glamorous evening wear. Stepping out into the street below, we hailed a taxi and set off into the Parisian night. Minutes later driving up the 'Champs Élysées', on either side of the car, trees covered in fairytale Christmas lights lined the streets and sitting spellbound in the back, I whispered to Ron, "It doesn't get much better than this!"<br />
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Finally, stepping out at our destination, in front of the illuminated white marble entrance to our venue, the Christmas lights bounced off the white walls, like the flashbulbs of the paparazzi, completing our final transformation, from French peasant to Parisian socialite!<br />
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<b>To enjoy more of my French adventures and read the true story of my life in France, click on the link top right to buy the book or, if you are feeling lucky, enter the Goodreads competition to win one of ten free copies! Bonne Chance!</b></div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-7221182460071777542013-11-25T08:23:00.000-08:002013-12-03T08:34:09.901-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A study in style,</span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In which I melt effortlessly into the background</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">As if hidden by the artist </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In a wash of grey and white</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Around me design is at the forefront of the space</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Functional, linear, abstract</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Inspiring a lifestyle </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Efficient yet chic </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Captured in its modernity</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">A stage for life</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Where I watch my beautiful daughter</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Fulfil the potential I dreamed for her</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The figure at the forefront </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Of a contemporary canvas</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She exudes instinctive style</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In how she works, how she loves and how she touches lives</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With the eyes of a mother</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I smile to myself </span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And think, my beautiful daughter</span></b></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">She wears life well ! </span></b></span><br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-25511752420494435942013-10-21T10:53:00.003-07:002013-10-22T07:45:41.319-07:00Our Last Winter in the Old Cognac Farm!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDixpx9FTnJziWKJWDP4vCEVGISPasDZEmlfdP188a6tO6LQwOfOuovghktRQjm5QzhQBxSi02zM8t11-1eJC8hqrOyg-np7NSjeNVgwf0N5G1Rw_Icy3r1OjnCYzEgJfjhb3sI8vvdw/s1600/Langlade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPDixpx9FTnJziWKJWDP4vCEVGISPasDZEmlfdP188a6tO6LQwOfOuovghktRQjm5QzhQBxSi02zM8t11-1eJC8hqrOyg-np7NSjeNVgwf0N5G1Rw_Icy3r1OjnCYzEgJfjhb3sI8vvdw/s400/Langlade.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Autumn is well and truly here and, ankle deep in bright red, copper and gold leaves, I walk my dog, Indy, through the woods near our home. It's only a few months now until we move back to France. Breathing in the rich earthy smells of the season, I am transported to our last winter in the old cognac farm in south-west France. </div>
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I can't help but remember one particularly cold February morning, when we woke to a winter wonderland. The trees outside bedecked in ice crystals, stood motionless in the iron hard landscape, while alas in the kitchen below, the last embers of the fire from the night before, died peacefully away. The shadows no longer danced across the floor and, in their place, an icy gloom hung in the silence. We had run out of wood.</div>
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Feeling like an Arctic explorer, I pulled the hood of my heavy warm coat over my woolly bobble hat and headed out into the frosty landscape. I was on a mission. The ground was treacherously slippery, as I grabbed the two metal handles of our old wheelbarrow and set off purposefully up the lane, in the direction of a small dilapidated barn on the brow of the hill. Slipping mercilessly as I attempted to keep the wheelbarrow up-right, I struggled with its weight, only aware of my breathing and the goal ahead.</div>
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Reaching the barn, I wrestled with the ice cold bolt on the ancient wooden door and wrenched it open. Inside, shining the torch over rusting farm equipment and broken barrels, I could just make out in the corner a pile of old decaying wood. There were cobwebs everywhere, but undeterred, I started to climb, falling occasionally when something gave way below me. I broke the silence with the occasional yelp, but kept on going. Finally, pulling and hauling trapped logs from the pile, I hurled them with all my strength towards the door, not stopping until the corner was empty and I could begin to extricate myself from the dust and debris.<br />
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On my way back down the lane, I no longer felt the cold. I was surviving like the old cognac farmers before me, by pitting my wits against the elements, and it felt good. Later that morning, my wet coat hung by the door, dappled in the dancing shadows of flames from the fire, while the crackle of burning wood echoed my new found connection to the past.<br />
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I look forward to reconnecting with nature, when I return to France for a new life in Burgundy. Having finally submitted my book,<i> 'Bonne Chance!' A Second Chance in the South of France</i>, to a publisher, I hope that someday you might be able to share in my wonderful French adventure. In the meantime, I hope you enjoyed our trip back to the old cognac farm.</div>
Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-55898960382780401382013-07-31T08:18:00.000-07:002013-08-18T06:43:03.786-07:00Book Buying, Enjoy The 'Feeling'!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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I got up this morning with books on my mind. At my bedside, the book mark in my latest Internet purchase indicated it was almost time to cast it aside and order my next piece of literary escapism - that was until I stumbled upon a gritty, new literary website, www.thebear-review.com . Reading its 'no holds barred', punchy essay on modern reading habits by Ray McGahan, I was reminded - The ease by which we obtain our masterpieces determines how much we care about them. </div>
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Passing by the bookcase on my way to the kitchen, I pause to run my fingers down the spines of some much-loved tomes and I muse on the pains to which I went to acquire them. Some, after a lengthy search through the shelves of a quirky backstreet bookshop, others found perusing the offerings at my local charity shop, and then again, some the results of a lazy afternoon in my local Waterstones, when I languished over choices, grasping in my hand those treasured Christmas book tokens.</div>
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Back in the kitchen my husband enquires, "Any ideas for this afternoon, dear?" and I don't hesitate. " Yep, let's spend the afternoon in our local bookshop and soak up the atmosphere, the feel, the smell of the books and maybe grab a coffee while we mull over our choices!" </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmNq3MVeNapr96-1Dhnjo1KxNagx7LL5zfj3hg5_0dkwFCTsJ9VI1DaIkjXjW0jDsQuZovocjFxVHHJ1Ztk89N1hTmVG8HYsOp4MtSneTNtBqdg5lbrbyUx7XDIPFQAceZKK3oqfEUDc/s1600/DSC00274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="111" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGmNq3MVeNapr96-1Dhnjo1KxNagx7LL5zfj3hg5_0dkwFCTsJ9VI1DaIkjXjW0jDsQuZovocjFxVHHJ1Ztk89N1hTmVG8HYsOp4MtSneTNtBqdg5lbrbyUx7XDIPFQAceZKK3oqfEUDc/s200/DSC00274.JPG" width="200" /></a>And so, we passed the most de-stressing afternoon in a long time, amongst like-minded people, immersed in the 'real' world of literature, not the online marketplace, where authors' hours of creativity are churned out to readers with no physical connection to the product.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdf4ZBlZtbYfI8vY20nsBrunrnednxj4Xqt-DRP9D3ltMOde2_tW_2tSXEI5EWdD6Uva40bHL3f67RuTJgPzT8RM6YxzQ27WgtMI4dSoyOkwQk9Nh6aEkFCeVPDlpZnUs6oBo2QrVfaA/s1600/oliver-jeffers-the-day-the-crayons-quit-cover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdf4ZBlZtbYfI8vY20nsBrunrnednxj4Xqt-DRP9D3ltMOde2_tW_2tSXEI5EWdD6Uva40bHL3f67RuTJgPzT8RM6YxzQ27WgtMI4dSoyOkwQk9Nh6aEkFCeVPDlpZnUs6oBo2QrVfaA/s200/oliver-jeffers-the-day-the-crayons-quit-cover.png" width="176" /></a>Let me encourage you all not to miss the opportunity of connecting with books! If you have small children and you are wondering how to amuse them this summer, why not plan a morning out to your local bookshop. Bring a friend and share a coffee, while your children learn to love the physical experience of buying their own book! Look out for 'The Day The Crayons Quit' by debut author, Drew Daywalt and international bestseller, Oliver Jeffers and watch as they laugh and look at playing with crayons in a new way!</div>
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Maybe, you have a story about where you bought your most treasured book? I would love to hear about it. My husband and I returned home after our day out, clutching two new books. When they have been read and enjoyed, they will join the other novels in our bookcase, special because of the magical day we spent browsing the shelves of our local bookshop.</div>
Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-44943559851725688232013-07-12T12:00:00.001-07:002013-07-12T13:11:28.134-07:00What drives us to write?<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="text-align: justify;">Welcome back, to all my friends who occasionally drop in on my ramblings. You find me in the study this morning, sheltering from the heat, an unusual occurrence in this part of the world, but an excellent opportunity to share with you some of my thoughts on writing. </span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></b></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Like many of you, my interest in writing can be traced back to an English teacher, who spotted in me the ability to tell a story. Mrs McIvor was an inspirational teacher, whose love of language and literature was passed on to me seamlessly, as if by a process of osmosis. At an age when I was forming opinions on just about everything, writing provided me with an outlet to channel my emotions.</span></b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOBW33CDbQq8WgVQ8vGyRHGmCS1gzuRpLm742ucLU-W5wx51wlX7ZSzRB5-iC1Bmc9JlQhoWDvERV2Ps4q41F1pmONgSOCyBMM0fTXw1x8ffaPshMeSIVYzZL4zBSli7NYYjh43xSfhM/s1600/images+(2).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMOBW33CDbQq8WgVQ8vGyRHGmCS1gzuRpLm742ucLU-W5wx51wlX7ZSzRB5-iC1Bmc9JlQhoWDvERV2Ps4q41F1pmONgSOCyBMM0fTXw1x8ffaPshMeSIVYzZL4zBSli7NYYjh43xSfhM/s200/images+(2).jpg" width="200" /></b></a><b>As my life has unfolded, I have used this outlet many times as a means of survival, getting my feelings down on paper, often by the medium of poetry, has helped me cope with life's highs and lows. Indeed, it is the therapeutic quality of writing that has, much to my surprise, resulted in the completion of the manuscript for my first book. I didn't set out to write a book; in fact, the idea would have seemed too daunting and something I would never have had the confidence to set out to do, but circumstances dictated otherwise.</b><br />
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<b>After three years living in the south west of France, where my husband and I renovated an old presbytery in the centre of a tiny French village, our adventure was brought to an abrupt end due to the death of my mother. With no choice, but to return home and support my elderly father, I was forced to take a step back in life, something which is never easy to do. After living this incredible adventure in France, I found myself back in a country with a generally dull, wet climate, where I no longer had family or friends.</b><br />
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<b>At first I threw myself into various pastimes, and indeed, achieved an A star grade in French at my local college, but nothing fulfilled me like my life in France. Eventually, after walking the dog each morning through the changing seasons of my third year back home, I began to think about writing the story of my French adventure. </b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV2bcnApg1_l5KtbH0pGHgoAvWTKFB1urOubR_SMnL8tkM_vmlRZGjGlx15mGnUPQd6pKGf8VYjCp6t7yH5NA8Jt8hp8oBR1Nute-NYtiSMVH7sHdZFv3cP-UeoC6uzmxItBChGrsBxI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfV2bcnApg1_l5KtbH0pGHgoAvWTKFB1urOubR_SMnL8tkM_vmlRZGjGlx15mGnUPQd6pKGf8VYjCp6t7yH5NA8Jt8hp8oBR1Nute-NYtiSMVH7sHdZFv3cP-UeoC6uzmxItBChGrsBxI/s1600/images.jpg" /></b></a><b>I started off with enthusiasm, but genuinely thought I would soon run out of steam. Until something extraordinary began to happen; I found an escape from my mundane life. Each day after walking the dog, I couldn't wait to get back to my writing and relive every moment of our wonderful adventure.</b><br />
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<b>The manuscript is finished now and it is almost two years since I sat down and thought I might just manage a few pages. The book is an incredibly vivid interpretation of a wonderful time in my life and I thank my old English teacher everyday for instilling in me, the joy of writing.</b><br />
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<b>It made me wonder, what it is that inspires you to put pen to paper? Have you too found writing to be a life-line? I would love to hear from you.</b><br />
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-57714027098436530592013-06-12T08:28:00.000-07:002013-06-13T03:26:13.088-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqF2vrV15i0KsTQnAY2Z5F8-k-0EdjWPwJRiIGUnE2fPSqK6-9unk5cpDHDygIryaJHx8At3kCCDIbR0ONzsLju26iGzOxBsNka5rJ8H92WzUm9K6AzyNpE_6XG6V4PUOP0p0YXHfxMNY/s1600/images+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqF2vrV15i0KsTQnAY2Z5F8-k-0EdjWPwJRiIGUnE2fPSqK6-9unk5cpDHDygIryaJHx8At3kCCDIbR0ONzsLju26iGzOxBsNka5rJ8H92WzUm9K6AzyNpE_6XG6V4PUOP0p0YXHfxMNY/s400/images+(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;"><i>Living in the moment!</i></span></b></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; text-align: justify;">This morning, while listening to a voice on the radio extol the virtues of ' living in the moment', I was compelled to pause and ask myself how often would I stop and do just that? Caught up with organising our move to France, I have to admit much of my effort is put into planning and worrying about the future. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So I decided to take a few minutes out, stop what I was doing and sit quietly in the cool of a room tucked away from the noise and bustle of daily life. Slowly the silence drew me in until the only sound I was aware of was the rhythmic tick of my watch. Taking a deep breath and letting it out gently the tension I had been unwittingly carrying around all morning silently ebbed away. Each tick of my watch marked a moment in time I would never experience again and I savoured them one-by-one!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yes, I can't wait to enjoy the slower pace of life in France again, but in the mean time I intend to take a few minutes out each day and return to the moment, will you join me?</span></div>
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Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2914122723587403691.post-84781114751282980232013-04-17T09:55:00.000-07:002013-04-17T09:55:15.952-07:00Still 'Head over heels' in love with France!<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oWDAOMDoRr9GjQ1wxFvA6w_UyCeVHpn0iNlkjYG3oc6BBoPMouRryj8j9k3icYzpiRLZyNeIYns-V7B1SZQmD_YYNoVT2xTSe4XNO0Gf2PwK1ovjSWsWdf5krCtNPCMmgPUFst4P4uw/s1600/images+(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><b><img border="0" height="113" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oWDAOMDoRr9GjQ1wxFvA6w_UyCeVHpn0iNlkjYG3oc6BBoPMouRryj8j9k3icYzpiRLZyNeIYns-V7B1SZQmD_YYNoVT2xTSe4XNO0Gf2PwK1ovjSWsWdf5krCtNPCMmgPUFst4P4uw/s400/images+(3).jpg" width="400" /></b></a></div>
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<b>Hi everybody, you might have noticed a gap since we last had a chat and you would be right. In my previous missive, full of the joys of life, I encouraged you all to get out there and celebrate your freedom. Well, shortly after completing my enthusiastic ramblings, I contracted a nasty virus and have only just felt well enough to get back to writing today. Indeed I am way behind in finishing my book editing, but I just thought I would touch base with you all, lest you wonder where I've gone!</b></div>
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<b>With spring arriving, my husband and I have set about putting the house to rights, before hopefully placing it on the market as a first step to returning to our beloved France. The plan this time is to move to Burgundy with a view to being nearer my daughter and her husband. Like everything in life, however, our plans are not without worry, as I have my elderly father to think about this time, but we have decided to go ahead in the hope that taking things a bit at a time, problems will be solved as and when they arise. You may well be aware from previous blogs that we have made this move before; so we know exactly what lies ahead of us. This, one would think, would be a distinct advantage, but on the contrary, it seems harder the second time around, as we are aware of the amount of work involved in relocating! The housing market here remains very slow, however, so no doubt we will have plenty of time to make our plans.</b></div>
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<b>While convalescing over the last few months, I have passed my time reading and in the process enjoyed various genres, from the classics to comedy, the latter of which helped me laugh my way through some of the darker days. Always eager to read of others who have made the move to France, however, the travel memoir has been hard for me to resist and so I found myself turning the pages of 'Head over Heels in France' by Samantha Brick. </b></div>
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<b>I had seen Samantha on television, when as a journalist she dared to write an article on how difficult it can be to be beautiful, for which she found herself heavily under fire from the general public on Twitter, the majority of whom felt it lacking in modesty to admit to such an opinion of one's self. I was, therefore, interested to read her own story, an honest account of her descent into depression after her television company went into liquidation, leaving her with no job, no home and virtually no money. A chance encounter during a break in France sees her life take a new turn, when she falls in love with Pascal, a gun toting, stubborn and ever so macho Frenchman. I found the book well written; some of her descriptions of the 'Lot' countryside in France proving positively eloquent, transporting the reader to join her as she explores her new environment. As someone who has lived in France I was fascinated when she moved in with Pascal to have an insider view of the French way of life; something I have only glimpsed through my neighbours up until now. The book ends with her marriage to Pascal, when the villagers finally welcome her as one of them. </b></div>
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<b>An interesting read which I enjoyed. As for my opinion of Samantha herself, well, her glamorous life in television has obviously meant her priorities have evolved around appearance and the importance of a designer label. Although this is all in the past, as she becomes embroiled in French country life, I find myself asking the question, 'You can take the girl out of a pampered life, but can you ever take the desire to be pampered out of the girl?' When all is said and done, I like Sam and wish her all the very best in her new life, as I look forward to the sequel to her book. She, like me, has discovered the lure of French country life that captivated me during my three years there and like Sam, has prompted me to write my own story.</b></div>
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<br />Hiyakenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07627284639493615722noreply@blogger.com0