Notre Dame du Cros Part I

Toward the end of another busy day taking in the sights and scenes of Southwestern France, my brother drove us through the hills to visit a beautiful little church, Notre Dame du Cros. The church looked plain and simple from the outside, similar to Spanish mission style, it's golden stone and tiny belfry glowing in the late afternoon sun.

By then the colors of October were changing to gold.........leaves were collecting in corners around the lovely church grounds.

Behind the church was a large area used for picnics and gatherings. A small brook trickled along, its clear water diverted through an ancient stone trough for drinking or refreshing oneself on a warm Summer's day.

Stone steps leading up from the picnic area.

The priest's house nestled against the church, more golden stone with sun-bleached aqua shutters and a pergola heavily laden with wisteria. We neither saw anyone nor heard a sound except for birds twittering in the trees...................it was so peaceful.

Tomorrow I'll show you more of the church's stunning interior.

Would you like to read a great book?

Sometimes I would like to return to the past. Live in an age when life was much more simple, people were kinder, and life was less about money and possessions. Or was there ever such a time? Perhaps there was never such a time?
Books can take us back in time and there's nothing more exciting than being gripped by a good novel....even one loaded with vivid characters who weren't always kind!

"Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again........"

I have just finished reading, Daphne du Maurier's amazing classic 'REBECCA'. The Boston Herald hit the nail on the head when they stated in a review that this book had "The relentlessness of a vivid nightmare".

The rough, weather beaten Cornish coast, the quintessential English country manor house with beautiful gardens, the housekeeper, servants living the 'downstairs' life, calling cards, house parties, costume balls, sports cars........come to think of it, they still live on today in parts of Britain today.
Manderley was drawn from Du Maurier's own home in Cornwall, Menabilly, an Elizabethan house which she rescued from total decay during the later years of WWII.
'Rebecca' was the winner of the Anthony Award for the Best Novel of the Century. Du Maurier penned 37 books. Among her more famous works are Rebecca, Jamaica Inn, The Scapegoat, and the short story The Birds.........all of which were subsequently made into films. She was made Dame of the British Empire in 1969. She died in 1989 at the age of 82.

Perhaps you would like to read this book. If so, leave a comment on this post only. I'll draw a name on Thursday then pop it in the post to the winner.

Lavender Friendship

When sweet friend Vanessa of Vanilla Lavender returned from her recent trip to Italy, we planned a get-together. An hour at Starbucks over coffee enabled me to look at her fabulous photos taken in Rome, Florence, Pisa and Venice. I was thrilled that she and her husband had such a wonderful trip to beautiful Italy, and were able to see so many places in just one week.

Traveling with only a backpack (oh to be young again!) was definitely a plus when hopping on and off trains, but of course limits one from bringing back large European treasures! Imagine my surprise when Vanessa handed me this charming gift from Venice - the tiniest lavender sachet with VENEZIA and a gondola with gondolier embroidered in the lace - a truly lovely thought.

Accompanying the sachet was this gorgeous card made by Vanessa, and this perfect silver tray she found locally at a vintage shop - it will be great to serve a couple a glasses of sparkling champagne......to celebrate friendship.
Thank you so much Vanessa.


Vanessa & Ryan at Trevi
Fountain in Rome.

Tilting at Windmills

Scenes from a Sunday drive in the Minervois last October.

Leaving the historic village of Minerve, we drove out of the valley up to high ground above the vineyards and woodlands.

The land became stony and dry, plants had adapted to their surroundings and, as we went higher, took on a rather ethereal look in shades of grey.

There were tussocks of lavender, the purple flowers already dried on their stems, and they rubbed off easily into ones hands yielding that amazing fragrance impossible not to recognize.

The windmill stood alone and silent on the top of the hill and, as we walked up to it, the feeling of stepping back in time surrounded us.

This is a 'tower mill'. Built with a fixed body of solid stone, only the top cap turns around to make the sails face the wind. This is done with the tail pole which you can see on the right.
Windmills ground grain for flour, animal feed and crushed oil seeds to make essential lighting oil before petroleum.

Of the thousands of windmills once operative across France, many still remain, a few are operational. Towards the end of the 19th century, the naturally powered stone-grinding mills began to be rapidly abandoned. Forced out of business by new technology, massive new mills in industrial cities were powered by coal-fired steam engines which could run day and night. Many were in ports where cheap coal and supplies of imported grain from newly opened farming regions like America and Russia were easily accessible. Flour was delivered all over France using the network of railways and canals, rather than the horse and cart.

This windmill was not abandoned, there was even an occupant when we opened the unlocked door.....a large rat scuttled across the floor, eeeeek!!!!

Not being familiar with the interior workings of a windmill, we were surprised to find this amazing carved horse's head which was apparently part of the mechanism for the grinding stones. How we wished a French miller had been available to show us how everything worked!

A proud rooster weather vane surveyed the surrounding countryside from it's perch. During war time, because of their location on hilltops, windmills made ideal lookout posts. Some have now been refitted as vacation rentals and must be fun to stay in if you enjoy windy hilltops with stunning views.
Returning to the flat land brought more vistas of the vineyards stretching for miles in every direction. The grapes had just been harvested, the green leaves were starting to turn red and gold........within another two weeks we noticed a huge change in the color of the landscape.

Tiny Lessons

It's a tiny bird, the Carolina Wren. If you followed the story of my front porch wrens last Spring, and the window box wrens of the previous year, you will not be surprised to know they are back. They really never left, sleeping each Winter night in the hanging ferns on the porch, which we didn't have the heart to remove although shrivelled, brown and quite dead. As the warmer days appeared they left the baskets to sleep elsewhere, but they were always singing at the top of their minuscule lungs.......some place in the garden.

These pictures with the trees dressed in Spring green were taken in the garden last year.

Above is one of the same pair taken in my kitchen window box a few days ago (through the window screen so a bit blurry). Together with its mate, the pair spent several hours flying back and forth, twig, skeleton oak leaf, fine twirly dried root, each held tightly and placed securely into a tiny space nestled between a mini conifer and yellow pansies. By mid-afternoon, the nest looked almost complete. What busy and brave little birds. To build a safe home to raise their family took planning and a lot of work. They didn't need a mansion, nothing fancy to show off to the neighbors, just a small warm house to nest in, safe and sound.

If all works according to plan, I'll be telling you about tiny eggs, loving parents, the amazing cleanliness of a wren's nest, and that thrilling, but somewhat sad, sunny Spring morning when fledglings leave.

Village Life

Early morning in the French village is anything but bland and colorless. Once you've started your walk through the narrow streets and headed out towards the vineyards and farmland, your senses are overwhelmed by the colors of the landscape. Besides the vines changing from green to red and gold, the old buildings, painted doors and shutters, stony roads, the everyday things, all appear to have soaked up the sunshine, even in the shorter days of Autumn.

Join me on another stroll through the village of Caunes-Minervois in Southwestern France where my brother and his family live.

Looking back toward the village.

One villager must have a penchant for the tropics - a palm tree in the land of vines!

Beautiful home in a converted barn.

Would love to peek behind the blue door.

French pumpkins are gorgeous.

Vegetable garden near the 9th century abbey - amazing amounts of veggies were still being harvested even in October.

The village laundry, now closed and may re-open as a bar!

One of many Caunes pink marble village fountains.

Texture ~ stone, wood and of course lace.

Which way now?

Will I ever run out of photos taken in France last October? If you're wondering I can assure you I still have more to share.

Paper Dreams

New quick project just completed.
A makeover inside the living room armoire. Lined previously with Italian inspired wallpaper - golden yellow background with trailing vines and bunches of purple grapes ~ quite lovely and enjoyed for many years. I'm now wanting a more neutral look. Used more pages from the antique French journals ~ perfect, inexpensive, only took an hour or so. Attached pages with double- sided archival scrapbooking tape.

Here's the finished project ~ now have to decide what to display. Perhaps a mix of old folded linens, books, china, these vintage jars. Don't you just love armoires? They have so much potential for storage and display ~ much more interesting than closets cut into walls.

Yes, I removed the dust jackets - too many conflicting colors - but I've saved them!

At last, a place where I can display all this beautiful English bone china - a few pieces belonged to my grandmother, the remainder a fabulous find at such a reasonable price at SuzAnna's Antiques...........................the place to treasure hunt in Raleigh, North Carolina.

French Finery

How exciting to see the mail carrier trotting up my driveway with a parcel in hand recently. Even more thrilling was seeing foreign stamps and knowing it had flown across the pond!
I had prior notice from the kind and generous sender so knew something French was on its way from Brittany. I was definitely not ready for such a delightful and beautiful gift.

I've being enjoying interesting posts by blog friend Elizabethd at French Village Life for some time. Being fellow Westcountry (she Cornwall, me Devon) natives who both live in adopted countries, we now lead different lives but still hold our English roots close to our hearts. I love learning about her life in a lovely village in Brittany, and her visits to the coastal towns of Northern France. When I wrote a post about bringing back hand written letters some time back, we started writing, enjoying the thought of our notes winging back and forth across the pond.

My new farm style table now has this grey linen serviette holder with a beautiful M monogrammed in the center. It's perfect alongside the French dough bowl.

Elizabethd included the prettiest paper serviettes with grey hearts and the beautiful card depicts a woman in traditional Breton costume on the coast of Brittany.

This gift was a wonderful surprise from this growing friendship. As Elizabethd followed my French style dining room makeover, her kind words were enough when she said I had done a good job..........a beautiful accessory for the room was the icing on the cake!

Thank you so much dear friend. Some day soon I hope to return to France and visit Brittany and Northern France and meet up with you in your lovely village...........cup of English tea or glass of French wine, whatever, it will be enjoyed in your company that's for certain.

Minerve

During our month in France last Autumn, an interesting day trip in the Languedoc area of Southwestern France took us to another Cathar village, MINERVE.
The road winds up the valley from the Carcassonne highway, heading toward Minerve, an isolated historic village perched on an island of rock over the meeting of two rivers, the Briant and the Cesse, which tunnel through deep gorges.

The village turned Cathar at the beginning of the thirteenth century, which made it a target for Simon de Montfort's crusade. On July 22, 1210, after a seven week siege, he took the castle and 140 "parfaits" (purified souls) were burnt at the stake because they refused to deny their faith. Little is left of the fortress, except for the candela, a single slender octagonal tower. The village is a hodge-podge of narrow alleys, topped by a simple 12th century church.

Local ladies of the village enjoying Autumn sunshine.

Walking through the river tunnels is possible when the water is low.

Great restaurant where the Sunday luncheon was superb.

Sauntering through the ancient narrow streets. Little museums and shops were numerous.

Many French villages are steeped in history. Stone facades of the buildings, colorful wooden shutters, terra cotta tiles of the roofs, and the cobbled streets, have soaked up centuries of living.

Minerve, an ancient place which captures your heart immediately.