From a distance

Henny took this picture of Roujan, her new home town, from the dog walk at Domaine Bourdic. A few years ago, the old tiled roof of the cave cooperative caved in during a storm. It was replaced with an unattractive shiny metal version, sort of beige, here glowing in the centre of the photo. Flying into Béziers on a clear day, I always try to identify the villages as we zoom past. No problem ID-ing Roujan!

Spring '11 is here!

Henny's photos taken 6 April show that spring has truly sprung at TopTop. We planted tulip bulbs at the beginning of January and now have a mini Keukenhof. I can't wait to get there this weekend!

Sculpture

Our friend Teddy Hutton creates beautiful things. He sometimes opens his studio for 3D courses. Last summer, we signed up without knowing what to expect and didn't know if we'd manage anything remotely interesting. The pathetic ashtray/bird's nest combo I mastered age six, my last 3D attempt, came to mind.

We were stunned to come home after three mornings with sculptures we actually don't mind looking at. I love Henny's abstract horse's head which has a featured place on our terrace. Our success was in no small way down to Teddy's subtle mentoring, so when he recently offered another go, we were keen.  I couldn't make the dates, but Henny could. The lack of mobility in her hurt shoulder meant she had to keep within a small framework. She came up with this little bust. It's simply beautiful. And some think a self-portrait though the artist denies it.

Red Carpet

Here's me retro-blogging again. I just ran across this picture of the Virginia Creeper on the garage roof, taken 25 October 2010, just before we had it completely hacked back. Always with reluctance, as it's beautiful, but also massively heavy. Roof tiles were cracking under the strain. Our lovely neighbour M. Macris was concerned it was heading his way; time for the short back and sides. We're hoping we can contain it on the wall, but it grows Little Shop of Horrors fast, so we'll see who wins.

London Souvenir

I love it when Henny comes to London. Makes me enjoy the city all over again. We do whatever comes into our heads. Like ride the London Eye. A strange meteorological phenomenon also occurs -- she brings the sunshine! It was raining cats and dogs when she left Béziers, yet the sun shone in London. On her first visit a few years back, we did the obligatory Thames river cruise, basking in the sun on the warmest day of an otherwise lousy summer, and by then it was mid-September. The excuse for this visit was to see Haydn's play Becky Shaw at the Almeida. Very funny. Haydn was excellent. My word and The Independent's. On recommendation of my pal Liz Kain in Toronto, we saw Tangled in 3D, Disney's take on the Rapunzel story. Really enjoyed it, and we got to conjure the Blues Brothers in these cool shades.

Left Behind

Henny's coming to London for the weekend. Hooray!  But a certain someone doesn't make it easy on her...

Happy New Year!

We rang in 2011 amongst great mates, dined on exquisite food, and sipped just a smidgeon of champagne whilst playing Oscar-contending charades. Our dear friends Greg and Alex are wonderful hosts. So often, coming at the end of the seasonal over load, New Year's Eve can be a bit of let down. Not so our night. We had a blast! Thank you Boys!

Henny and I rolled home about 3 am. The Skype alert on the computer bleated soon after. My pals were calling from Baltimore, Maryland still shy of 2011 by a few hours. They were celebrating with Anne Louise and Liz who'd driven in from Toronto. We've known each other for oodles of years and have rung in a fair few New Years together. Last night Henny and I popped over in the cyber sense. Robin sent this picture as we appeared in their Baltimore living room. 

We hope that wherever you were, you spent a great evening with friends and loved ones. Wishing everyone good health and happiness in the year to come, with lots of love from us both.

  

Christmas Day

We had a glorious Christmas! It began, as these festivities often do, with a Kikoy Can-Can.

We were fortunate to be with our dear friends Lizzie and Ali, Lizzie's mum Margaret, and Hans and Christa. Champagne corks were popped, thoughtful gifts were exchanged, we ate like kings and queens from a table groaning with goose and other delicacies.

We drank a special wine Hans makes only for the Friends of Bourdic, not sold to the public. There was Christmas pudding, Christmas cake and Christa's yummy Christmas cookies. I was sure to need the Christmas crane to lift me out of there. We tried our best to guess the punchlines to the lame jokes that pop out of Christmas crackers, and we (well, I) massacred the sing-a-long to the Sound of Music. (It was only the Mary Martin Broadway version, so no apologies required Dame Julie). 

By the end of it, we were happy as punch and grateful to have such wonderful friends, if not a little tuckered out. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Birthday Weekend!

How lucky am I? I've had the most wonderful birthday. Not just a day, but a whole weekend! Beginning Friday evening, a surprise meal with our Wise Boys, Saturday chez Helga et Bernard, Sunday glorious gambas at our favourite restaurant on the coast with Lizzie & Ali, and today, another delicious lunch with lovely pals, collecting great loot along the way and sweet surprises. 

This morning Henny told me I had to hunt for my present and pointed me towards the garage. She bought me this beautiful old stone window, which is no small endeavour when you only have one working arm. Here I'm wearing my Birthday Girl rosette, having just fought off an attack from you-know-who, possibly a bit miffed at not being the centre of attention.

I was born in 1955 and today I am 55. A few months ago, I woke up with a start, 'On 6 December I shall be officially closer to 60 than 50. Yikes!' Thank you, dear friends, for making this fairly painless. Your company, your kindnesses, your gifts, cards, texts, emails, messages, long distance phone calls, and above all your friendship and love. I am indeed one lucky broad!

 

Bedroom Update

In July, we moved everything out of the bedroom to make way for a long-awaited built-in cupboard. Finally a place to put stuff out of sight. Hallelujah. During the structural renovations, we moved the wall 80 cms to accommodate it. A metal strip along the floor denotes a change in floor heights. This had been part of the old kitchen. The wall here is 4.4 metres wide.

And now it's three cupboards. We had the doors made maximum height, 2.7 metres, which allows for a huge storage shelf above the hanging space. Please note door-within-door on the right. That's the cat-sized portal to Pou's bachelor pad, where he can hide and rest in comfort. He's got a cubby hole lined with soft furnishings. First sign of the gardener arriving with a chain saw, in he went. I found a list of demands, including a mini flat screen TV and an unlimited supply of magret de canard, but otherwise he seems to like it.

The doors were raw wood, so while she was at it, Henny decided to redecorate the whole room. She did a superb job; we're thrilled with our lovely new bedroom!

Perfect Harmony

What an extraordinary treat was in store for us and all we had to do was walk 5 minutes to the local church.  The internationally renown Hungarian girls' choir Cantemus sang for an unforgettable hour. They were en route to a choral competition in Spain. Lucky for us, they have connections to Anne and Francis, the owners of La maison verte, where they broke their journey for the night.

Here's a stock photo; I didn't have a camera. The age range is 11-16. One voice starts them off, then they file into the church singing in heavenly harmonies. Their joy, tuning, discipline, and vocal quality is sublime. They sing in various formations, sometimes surrounding you. This is goose bump inducing, you experience the glorious harmonics from within the chord. Each voice is beautiful, yet blends perfectly with the other 49. They finish the way they began, walking and singing, the last voice trailing away as they exit the church, leaving not a dry eye in the house. 

Who was that at the door?

The Happy Baker

I can't remember the last time I baked anything completely from scratch. Here's today's effort. Plum cake with streusel from a German recipe we googled. Can't tell you how heavenly the kitchen smells. We hope it tastes half as good!

An almost bygone taste

Lizzie and Ali picked their Muscat Petit Grain grapes today. They were ripe and ready, but as with many of life's fineries, they come in quality, not quantity. Not enough to make a meaningful amount of wine. And it would be a white wine at that, when Le Couvent specializes in reds.

The grapes were therefore pressed -- by feet, the old-fashioned I Love Lucy way -- and made into unfiltered organic grape juice. Absolutely no preservatives. It will only last a few days. An email went out offering it for free to mates. 2 bottles per household. Call after 3pm. Nicola,

Henny and I arrived at once, the gate-crasher specials. Ali handed us our prizes. Nectar from above. Well, actually, below. It was pressed just under the Virgin peaking out between the bottles and on our lips within the hour. Divine.

One of the things I miss from the States is freshly pressed apple cider. Non-alcoholic. You don't get it in Europe, the apples aren't the same, the process is different, you just don't. This beautiful grape juice reminded me of that, as delicious and more. Fresh, pure, cloudy, sweet in the finest sense, but not sugary. The taste of another era. A souvenir of childhood. Why would you want to spoil this heavenly nectar by turning it into wine anyway?? An amazing treat. Thank you.

The Hoppers

More new neighbours. Three rabbits. All allegedly female, or at least we hope. They obviously hate it next door; they're always in our garden. The relative cool of the oleander cuvettes is their fave hang-out. Or under a bush in the shade. They were even spotted in the compost heap, clear the other side of our garden. They've made themselves right at home. Pou once jumped from the terrace, all purposeful and defiant, to see one off. The rabbit couldn't care less, budged maybe a metre, so Pou gave up. Even though they're adorable, we fear plant devastation, burrowing, multiplying, so we cautiously mentioned our concerns to the rabbit owners. Their solution was to move the pathetic bunny enclosure into full sun during a heatwave. The rabbits looked miserable. We felt awful, but it didn't take long for them to break free. The little fugitives have again hopped across the frontier. The rabbits have chosen, who are we to argue?

Camping Wonders

Two years ago, the Goslings bought a three-bedroom tent with a large lounge. It happened to be Henny's birthday. They'd stopped by for an apéro in a pre-camping flourish of excitement, on their way to the wilds of the mazet for a trial-run, while we had a lovely meal at Les Goutailles. On our way home, we nodded up the hill hoping they were all right in a torrential downpour. The tent has been waiting ever since to see action again.

We'd been discussing a joint camping venture for so long, the notion was becoming a myth. Finally there came the perfect excuse. Freddie kindly bought 6 tickets to see Stevie Wonder in Nîmes the July 4th weekend. We found a shady campground near the beautiful town of Uzès. It was hotter than blazes, but an inviting 20 metre pool revived us after setting up.

On Sunday morning, a stop-off at the first Roman relic of the day, the nearby Pont du Gard...

...was followed by our pilgrimage to the 2000 year old Roman amphitheatre for the concert.

We scrambled up the ancient stones to find our places. While two warm-up acts played, you could see tarps covering mountains of instruments on the sidelines. When the roadies finally started to uncover it all, the crowd was buzzing in anticipation and Mexican waves. The man himself came on to the roar of ten thousand people. Stevie was, well, wonderful and the atmosphere was fantastic.

A fabulous weekend. So, where shall we go next?

Another Star is Born

We're steeped in the performing arts, we are. Freddie's debut in panto is well-documented. Many of us participated in the 3-day gospel-jazz singing workshop in May. And last night, Henny made her stage debut tapping with Michelle and Marc at the end-of-term Claquettes' recital. I was gutted to miss it. So thankfully Poppy's just sent through a couple of action shots. She had to be quick on the trigger. Henny said the whole exhausting routine only lasted 40 seconds. Well, you've gotta start somewhere to get to 42nd Street.

Belated Tribute

A few years ago, Lizzie and Ali bought several hectares of neglected grapevines on a hillside with beautiful views. It's nothing short of awe-inspiring how they've brought the vines back into good nick and are now producing excellent wines. Any armchair vigneron who dreams, yes, I'd like to have a vineyard in the south of France, be warned: it's muscle-aching, back-breaking hard work that can all be for nought if a tornado blows through your vineyard, which really happened in 2008. And it's similar to what they say about owning a boat, but it's a hole in the earth you throw money into. Still, never daunted, the grapes are flourishing and so are the girls.

It didn't surprise me that Lizzie would take to being a vigneronne. She's always had green thumbs, for which I'm grateful every morning. I wake up with a view of her oleanders. Once, when I'd just bought TopTop, I referred to some young shoots in my garden as "growths". Ali gleefully said, "Thank god there's someone who knows less about gardening than I do". So, Ali's the dark horse. Now a dedicated wine-maker, she's spent her last two birthdays like this, spraying vines because it's the best day weather-wise. This year we changed the lyrics to Happy Birth-spray.

The picture below was taken 18 August 2009. I'd helped Ali gather a sampling of grapes to determine the sugar content. Lizzie was shocked the figure was already at such a high level, so all the grapes had to be harvested within the next few days, weeks earlier than anticipated.

A de-stemming machine was late to arrive. So the first day, we did it all by hand. It took twice as long as the actual picking. Thankfully the machine came the next day, and in a matter of 3 days, all the grapes were harvested and in the cuves.

This spring, Lizzie and Ali announced the names of the wines, Cuvée Solèzio and Cuvée Chocolat (guess what it's delicious with). We were honoured to find ourselves on the Chocolat label, showing our grape-stained hands. Right up there with seeing my name on a poster outside a West End theatre. So delighted, though had I known, I possibly wouldn't have worn a luau shirt. Lizzie's just said they're down to the last 3 cases of Chocolat. Hardly surprising. It's sublime. Henny's hiding what we have left. Chapeau to you both.

Afternoon nap

Outdoor furniture has appeared on the terrace. We have a big table, chairs, an umbrella, and several sun loungers, not to mention the diving bench. I love just being able to wander in and out. The house feels so much bigger in summer. We made a recent discovery. Put two sun loungers together. Add the foam double-bed mattress we had from the first house, which fits perfectly. Position under the kaki or olive tree, grab a pillow, and have a perfect, secret siesta.

New Design Duo

Has anyone recently been shopping for curtains on the Ikea website noticed the new design collaboration between Henny and Jean de Pouzolles?

Heartbreaker

Backtrack to Saturday, 29 May 2010.

Josh, the little fellow I've known since he was 11, turned 18. Hardly believable. We celebrated in style. His sister and aunt (and indeed all Josh's extended aunties and uncles) beamed with joy.

His proud but shell-shocked parents were fabulous hosts, as ever, and so was Josh.

And...drumroll...here he is, the man himself, a talented apprentice landscaper and gorgeous rugby hunk in designer duds. Lock up your daughters. Happy 18th Josh, with all our love.

Summer's finally here

It's true the spring weather in the Languedoc hasn't been brilliant. In fact it's the worst June on record for about 50 years. Three days ago Michelle was over at our house complaining that she was wearing shoes and socks on the 20th of June. But since the summer solstice, things have improved and we're finally experiencing the glorious sunshine and fine temperatures we'd been expecting for the last month. It's time to find a nice place in the shade to relax and enjoy a siesta.

Weed Mower

For Henny's birthday, 30 people were on the terrace enjoying an apéro overlooking knee-high weeds in the garden. We'd just been on a 3-day gospel-singing workshop, so no time to tame the unruly garden beforehand and make 9 quiches and pizzas for our guests.

Our friend Teddy came to the rescue with his trusty lawnmower. When I was young, I mowed the lawns at home. Our finicky machine would never have dealt with our mini forest in Roujan, but Teddy had the weed-lawn looking better in no time while Henny and I raced to dump the off-cuts in double wheelbarrow tandem. What a difference!

Now we've bought Lizzie's mower second-hand, we hope to keep the weeds in check.

New View

The neighbour above recently invited Henny to her house. Henny cleverly packed her camera to take a photo of the house as we'd never seen it before.

Saluki Puppies!

On 1 February 2010 we were privileged to meet the latest batch of Saluki puppies bred by Shera Chuat. The Saluki is perhaps the oldest breed of dog, traced back to at least 2000 BC. There are representations of them in Egyptian tomb paintings. Shera's been breeding champion Salukis since 1977. They are in demand the world over. Interestingly, some puppies born just up the road from us have gone full-circle back to Middle Eastern royalty, where the breed originated.

Shera's Salukis live like sultans. They are ultra well-cared for. She has about 10 or so adult dogs, five of which can be seen here overlooking the heated puppy house. Dog beds abound, there are endless comfy places to stretch out for a nap. There's a huge fenced-in garden to roam, and twice each day Shera takes the whole pack for long walks in the countryside. It must be quite a spectacle; they're not exactly small dogs. Shera has complete control over them. She doesn't walk them on leashes. And boy, can they run! They're even more majestic when they do.

These two pups are from the litter born 17 December 2009. Saluki coats come in two ways, feathered or smooth. I love the smooth, which Shera says puts me in the minority; the feathered is more popular. These are both smooth-coated, but anyway the feathers get more pronounced as the dog grows up.

This young lady is definitely a smooth operator. Shera resolutely said she wouldn't keep a puppy from this litter, but this little one has completely stolen her heart. Guess who's staying? Click here to see more: Shera's Salukis.

Spare a thought...

11 February. A light dusting of snow on the terrace. In the south of France. Surely this can't be? People are lining up for refunds. We're in a gentler micro-climate than our surroundings, so it doesn't last long. Still, most everyone who's moved here will tell you it's colder than they thought it would be in winter.

On the other hand, here's what our dear friends Robin and Elina have been battling in Baltimore, Maryland. The worst winter on record: over 2 metres of snow so far.

The storm that crippled Washington, DC had its epicentre in Baltimore. The shovelling never ends. No one's going anywhere. Robin said a snow plow got stuck in their narrow street, so a bigger one came to the rescue. It also got stuck. Then arrived the mother of all plows, which did the trick, but brought to mind a Russian doll effect of ever-increasing monster snow-rescue machinery.

Baltimore is on the southern side of the Mason-Dixon line. It's not meant to get weather like this. When Robin first moved there almost 30 years ago, I was envious of her mild winters. She used to laugh at how badly the locals drove if an inch of snow fell. Now look. You begin to wonder if it's down to climate change, and if in years ahead, scary thought, we'll see similar scenes out our LFH windows?

But for now, intrepid souls, Robin and Elina haven't lost their senses of humour. Hope you can hang up the shovels soon!