Busy Little Hands

Our new home has really surpassed all my dreams; it' got so much character and space to do stuff. Mon Cheri has his atelier-workspace, I have my garden and a sowing room and there's even a forest to go to and potter around the trees.

I was also happily surprised to find out there is a bathtub upstairs! This was on my bonus-list and a very welcome surprise indeed. So; naturally I asked Mon Cheri to build me a little entertainment-centre, for those long, languid bubblebaths when it's cold outside.
Eh voila! It was ready before I could say Pinot Grigio. There's enough space for a bottle of wine and a glass, bien sure, and even for a telephone too to watch a film. Though that might be a bit too risky knowing my clumsiness. I think I'll be throroughly entertained with the wine and a book!

Mon Cheri is very handy all around the house. This is my 'office-space', complete with a shelf for all the stuff I need at a reaching distance.

I am not completely idle either; in my 'atelier' I make these bags from old jeans. I love it when I can transfer something old and scruffy into something useful. I suppose it runs in the family; we learn to use our hands from early age and those skills have come very handy indeed.

And a bit of a rock-version. It's a shame I don't do music festivals...

As the summer temperatures were mounting in June and July, we needed a shaded place outside to enjoy our lunch and bbq's. So, if you don't have it, build it! Mon Cheri therefore built a table (recycled wood, of course!) and I remembered we have a parasol from a beach tent-kit, so that was added into the ensemble. And it has been in use every day since then!

I have an endless list of projects which are mostly for Mon Cheri, so I need to distribute them carefully in order that he doesn't feel overwhelmed. I needed a shelf for the fabrics in my atelier, and whatdoyouknow we happened to have the extra wood in the shed!
I did contribute a lot to this one but in all honesty I have to say, it's mostly M.C's handiwork. Quite pretty, don't you think?

We have had an unusually hot summer, even at this altitude (1200 metres) and it did create some problems. In the temperatures of  +32°c and over, mon pauvre Cheri was getting all hot and bothered with his headphones while watching his tv-series. Fret not. I have the solution...

Voila, little covers for the ear-pieces and no more sweaty ears!

And Lili is busy too! With the puzzle this time.

I search

I think

I put

I rest

Brocante et Fête de la Village

As the summer starts to turn a bit cooler, it's time for flea-markets, village fetes and other celebrations. I went to see the brocante, flea-market, at our nearby village and it turned out to be one of the biggest ones I've ever seen. Practically all the streets of the village had been taken over by tables, boxes of stuff, parasols and mingling people in search of that something, chose importante, for the kitchen, garage or living room.

I am a self-confessed flea-market and second-hand enthusiast. Must've started that already at young age when I was searching through the boxes in our attic, never knowing what I could find. I've been known to look into skips too (you never know what people throw away) and many a time I've found things that are still useful and in good condition.

Lots of interesting things on offer but I got exhausted just trying to get through the throng of people and marching up and down every little street in the village. Phew! Maybe these things don't happen often enough; it seemed like every person from the 30km radius was there. And there was so many cars parked along the country roads, that I had to leave mine nearly 1 km away and walk into the village. Seems I'm not the only fan of les brocantes.

After all that traipsing around, I came home with four glasses, a guide book for local walks and some jam jars (which Mon Cheri took away tout de suit for his blueberry jam). Not a big haul but still it was a very pleasant morning.

That very same afternoon we had a fête de village, organized by our mayor (who just happens to live right next to us) who is retiring and wanted to have a last party to say farewell before that. And we were very lucky with the weather as well, since the weather has taken a turn lately and the very next day after the party it was pisshing down like nobody's business.

The main course was a whole, roasted pig which we went to see as soon as we arrived. Better get the photos while I still can, I thought to myself. The French, the supreme carnivores, would make a quick job at eating that, as soon as the meat was in front of them. Even though I am not a big meat eater myself, I was salivating like a famished dog in front of this spectacle and couldn't wait to get it on my plate. Some primeval instinct, I'm sure!

The last few touches before it's ready.

Bread from a local bakery.

And of course something to wash it all down with! We arrived just after the midday, as was stated in the invitations, but the wait for food was rather long. Someone must've miscalculated it all a bit, so all the Tuc-biscuits and chips vanished quickly, as well as people getting rather tipsy before the food itself arrived. No surprised there, it is France, after all.

And here it comes, the main attraction. Well done mayor!

  Just get those iron thingys off boys and we're ready!

A big cauldron of l'aligot (mashed potato woth cheese) coming on to go with the porc.

A table! Fifteen long tables were arranged under a huge gazebo and hungry mouths were finally fed. Juicy melon with ham for starters. And of course copious amount of wine, as you do.

And when in France, everybody brings their knives into every occasion where there might be something to eat. Yes, the knives are very important and this is the typical model. Mon Cheri sharpened ours specially. It must be a pain nowadays when one can't take ones knife with them in the airplane. How will the French eat their cheese abroad?

There was a man in our table who had made a knife for his wife and in all excitement I forgot to take a close-up of it. It was truly a beautiful piece of craftmanship. And Madam kept a close eye to it too.

After the starters we enjoyed the very delicious roasted pork with l'aligot, then the fromage and finally some ice cream. No coffee though since the particular electricity plug didn't work and nobody thought to check in time. Must've had their noses in their glasses of rose. Never mind. Fun was had all round and home was only 1 km away. Close enough to crawl back.

Merci, monsieur le maire, well done!

I Need Some Tools!

Having a big garden and a vegetable patch is great but it also means a lot of work. Back-breaking, sweaty work. And although some former occupant here had already made a potager before, there was still a fair amount of digging, cutting, clearing and stone-picking to do. I did find a trowel in the garage/atelier, that little Aladdin's cave of ours, but that's just not enough, eh.
Ooh, I think we need some tools!


Unfortunately we don't have one of these. Although saying that, our landlord has got a HORSE and he did propose to bring it in to eat all the grass (gotta love the countryside!). Throw in a plow mister and I'll say YES tout de suite!

What we have is this. Not really fair, is it? At first opportunity we headed off to the nearest hardware store and bought couple of tools to get started. Mon Cheri's papa had given us a fork thingy and Mon Cheri put a handle on it. Three times. The first two wooden ones broke almost immediately and then he found an old iron stick in his atelier, which was finally up to the hard work.

And that was really all we needed to start with preparing notre potager. Tres bien!

Oh, and I found two axe heads as well in the garage. Funny what things people leave behind when they move (or in this case when they separete from the boyfriend, leave in a hurry and don't give a flying piece of cow dung what happens to the tools etc which the boyfriend forgot in the garage).

Well, all the better for us. We need all the tools we can get.

Another found treasure; handy with cutting all that grass and dandelion jungle while waiting for the trimmer (luckily we have received it now!). I am not scared off hard work but I have to say that it was especially back-breaking to start clearing the yard with this one. That big flower bed you saw in an older post was cleared with this baby. Oh yeah, no joke, and don't I just know it. My back is going into spasms just thinking about it.

Mon Cheri's papa is a very handy man, the McGyver Senior, so to speak. He had found this old lawnmower in a bin, then fixed it and gave it to us. And it still works like a dream. Mon Cheri has inherited this bin-digging hobby and has also found many useful things that we still use around the house. Can't say I disapprove.

From early age I have had a great attachment to hand tools. Ever since my mum gave me a hunter's knife at the tender age of seven (that's Finland for you!) I have enjoyed using every possible utensil and tool to build huts, tree houses and what ever my imagination could cook up.

As I have said before, we need to gather wood for winter from the nearby forests and so we bought this very useful wood saw. I have already spent many happy hours (hic!) sawing away in the garage. And Mon Cheri's work table comes in handy just for that!

But this is really not enough. If we want to fill our wood stores with any serious amounts of logs, we need some serious tools. The winter is coming!!

And this is what I am talking about! Nice little new-home-present from Mon Cheri's papa, how kind!

The next thing is to find the wood. Shouldn't be difficult when there's so much forest everywhere you look, but apparently the landowners here are guarding their forests jealously and would rather see the already cut and useless, shitty pieces of wood rot on the forest floor than allow someone to clear them away. Not very neighbourly, I say. And doesn't make any sense either.

I suppose I have still a thing or two to learn about the mentality of the people here.