France Trivia Advent Calendar day twenty-one, Marie Curie

Advent day 21 a sparkling rosé and a biere blanche

Advent day twenty-one, Monday 21^st December 2020

 

Winter solstice.

The arrival of the shortest day and the knowledge that from now on the hours of daylight will slowly increase, gives us much more reason to celebrate than Christmas, and last night we enjoyed our special solstice eve meal, which is the closest we will get to a traditional Christmas dinner. 

 

This morning we were up early, hoping to see a spectacle of colours as the sun rose, promising us that the dark days will become light. Just after eight o’clock, the sky began to lighten, but when the official sunrise of 8h40 arrived, there wasn’t even a hint of pink or orange to break up the grey. I think today must be one of the gloomiest days of winter so far and I couldn’t settle to anything, apart from soup-making. 

 

I don’t think I can claim another December recipe challenge victory for last night’s meal, as although I’ve never cooked guinea fowl before, I just did exactly what I’d do with a whole chicken. However, as the challenge was to drag our meals away from what had become routine, it did at least count as something new. 

Guinea fowl ready to cook in the slow cooker

 

I slow cooked the bird on a bed of leek tops, carrots and turnips with a little rosé wine and then served the meat on a Christmas vegetable risotto, and it tasted delicious. There is enough meat left for tonight’s dinner and the carcass was boiled for a stock, which along with the cooking vegetables and liquid, plus some other bits from the fridge, made a tasty soup for this week. 

 

Covid-19

The news at the weekend that there is a new strain of the virus in the UK and that all of our family over there are now in the Tier 4 category, seemed to come out of nowhere. Just to compound things, two of our close family members, who live in London, have had positive test results in today, having had coughs last week. They assure me they aren’t feeling too bad, but all this has meant their plans for Christmas have had to change. 

 

The world seems to be descending into a madness we could never have imagined a year ago. France (and most of Europe) has closed its border with the UK, we are living with an overnight curfew, and the more I focus on these statements the more it feels like things are spiralling out of control. It is way scarier out there now than it was back in March, but at least from today it is onwards and upwards and I can look forward to longer days, the arrival of spring and the strength the sunlight gives me to remain positive in a mad world.

 

Our Christmas greeting to you

Ed’s latest music video, his take on Lonely this Christmas, which I think is a pretty apt choice for this year, is now up on YouTube. All being well he won’t be lonely this Christmas, as he’ll be with his girlfriend, who he hasn’t seen since the end of October. The poor thing has been cooped up with his mad parents for almost two months and if you do decide to watch this video, you will see just how bonkers we are. 

 

This is our Christmas greeting to you all, wherever in the world you are and however you are celebrating this year. Thank you for following our French village adventures, and liking, sharing and commenting on my posts. Happy Christmas.

  

France Trivia advent calendar, day twenty-one, Marie Curie (1867-1934)

It was on this day in 1898 that French scientists Pierre and Marie Curie discovered radium, so it seemed fitting for them to be todays’ French trivia. Marie was born in Poland, studied in Paris, where she met Pierre and became a naturalised French citizen. She was the first woman to win a Nobel prize, the only woman to win one twice and the only person to win one in two scientific fields (physics and chemistry). They shared the 1903 Noble prize in physics for their pioneering work in radioactivity and during the First World War she developed mobile radiography units to provide x-rays to field hospitals. Pierre and Marie also shared a passion for long bicycle trips and as the saying goes, the couple who cycle together, stay together. 

Lockdown diaries day thirty-four, Advent day two, rivers and departments

December recipe challenge

Day thirty-four, Wednesday 2^nd December 2020

 

Advent day two

The JP Chenet sparkling rosé, from my advent calendar yesterday, while probably not one to win any awards, was better than I was expecting as I really don’t drink rosé wine these days. It wasn’t too sweet, had a hint of flavour and the bubbles certainly brightened an otherwise ordinary Tuesday evening. Adrian’s beer blonde, however, was full of aromas and flavours, and very drinkable. Tonight, I have a Merlot and Adrian a triple beer.

 

December recipe challenge

It has been a week since my disastrous French onion tart attempt and although everyone was happy with me trying again tonight, I wasn’t quite ready to give it another go just yet. I set myself the challenge to follow a new recipe every week in December, as I want to add new flavours and meals to our routine dinners. This morning, I spent rather a long time browsing my cookbooks, but sadly there was very little that I found inspiring. The problem being I am much more comfortable with big one-pot meals, packed full of veggies and flavours and served in a bowl, than a meal with lots of individual parts, each with their own pan to wash up. 

 

Once again, I found myself turning to Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, but this time, his River Cottage Veg Everyday book. In there was a bean chilli recipe that ticked the one-pot box, the comfort-food box (it’s still rather chilly here today) and I’m pretty sure it will be a good accompaniment to my advent calendar Merlot too. The chilli is ready to reheat, and I am planning on serving it with oven baked jacket potatoes, crème fraiche and some grated cheese. It has been ages since I made a chilli dish and I rarely serve it with jacket potatoes, so it’s certainly breaking from routine, and as far as I can remember, I’ve never followed any recipe for a chilli before. I will try and be a little bit more adventurous next week, but I’m hoping tonight’s chilli will boast my confidence, unlike the soggy French onion tart. 

France Trivia advent calendar, day two, rivers and departments

This advent I have decided to share a little bit of French trivia every day and today it’s all about rivers and departments. In the French language there are two words for river; la rivière which is used for a tributary river that flows into another river, and la fleuve for a river that flows into the sea. The five most important rivers in France are the Garonne, the Loire, the Rhine, the Rhone and the Seine. 

 

At the source of the Sèvre Niortaise river

France is split into Regions (thirteen on mainland France and five in the overseas territories) and then smaller administrative Departments (ninety-five in mainland France, two in Corsica and five overseas). A large number of the departments are named after the river that flows through them, like the Charente, the Dordogne and the Vienne. Nine departments are named after two of their rivers, like Lot-et-Garonne, Indre-et-Loire and Loir-et-Cher, but the Deux-Sèvres, where we live, is the only department to be named after two rivers who share the same name; the Sèvre Nantaise, a rivière that flows into the Loire and the Sèvre Niortaise, a fleuve that flows into the Atlantic. I’m rather proud that we live somewhere with such a unique name.

 

Sharing the love

For us as a family, love has certainly been more prominent than money this year, so it seems rather apt that Ed’s latest YouTube is his cover of Can’t Buy Me Love. I know I am biased, but it is rather good, so if you would like to have a listen, click on the link below and see if you recognise any of the band.

La Fête Nationale, 14 juillet

14th July fireworks, Parc de Blossac, Poitiers 2019

Last year our 14^th July celebrations for the Fête Nationale seemed to go on for days, a stark contrast to this Covid-constricted year where nothing is as normal. 

Ed in Melle

Ed had been playing the guitar at a live gig in Melle on 12^th July, the street outside the kebab shop closed to traffic, a ‘stage’ at one end and tables and chairs filling the space at the other, where homemade burgers and chips were served all night to an appreciative crowd.

 

Our village celebrates fête nationale, 2019

Our village has always held its buffet and disco on the evening of 13^th, allowing plenty of opportunity for everyone to head off to neighbouring towns or villages to continue celebrating on the 14^th. Having eaten well, laughed with friends and then danced the night away, I was particularly looking forward to the 14^th.

 

Filling the bin with the patriotic paper tablecloths

First was a bit of clearing up, followed by an apéro with other community-spirited friends, timed to perfection just as the village bell struck midday. Then it was off to the bar over the road to help them celebrate their second anniversary of opening, with more food and music. Although it promised to be a good afternoon, I had to leave early to collect Adrian from Poitiers airport. He’d missed out so far, but with Ed’s flat empty, this gave us the perfect opportunity to enjoy a bit of big town celebrations for the first time. 

 

Parc de Blossac, Poitiers

As dusk began to fall, we headed to Poitiers Parc de Blossac where there was a free live music concert, followed by fireworks. Security was tight, with all bags being searched at the gates and a no alcohol policy strictly implemented. The refreshment tent sold only 0% beer or soft drinks, but it meant there was a friendly and family-focussed atmosphere in the crowd. We found ourselves a space and sat happily people-watching as we waited for the fireworks to begin, and boy were there plenty of people to watch. It didn’t take long before every bit of grass was occupied, and those trying to pick a route through the bodies had to watch for fingers, feet and children, as they found somewhere to squeeze into. For someone used to village life and events of around eighty people, suddenly being one of thousands was rather daunting. The fireworks were fantastic, set off in time to music played so loud the ground vibrated as well as the air from the explosions and light show overhead. It was an amazing experience, but we both agreed, not one we would be in a hurry to repeat as it was a bit of a sensory overload.

 

Breakfast in Poitiers

The morning of the 15^th saw us at an outdoor café in Poitiers town centre enjoying a coffee and croissant, before we headed off for a bike ride and then enjoyed lunch at the most beautifully decorated Moroccan restaurant situated on the cobbled street of Grand’Rue. The interior is a riot of colours, mosaics and lights, a feast for the eyes as much as their tagine plat du jour is for the stomach.

 

#KTTinyTourer carries flowers for picnic

We were back home to enjoy an afternoon bike ride on the 16^th, for Adrian to catch up with the sunflower fields, followed by an evening of free live music in the local village of Pouissay. We met up with friends, folded our bikes, unfolded our tables, opened our picnic hampers and wine bottles and had a fab time. I’d even managed to carry a vase of flowers on the bike to decorate the table, and at the end of the evening we cycled home as the full moon was rising. These five days proved that whether in a big town like Poitiers, or just a small rural village, France certainly knows how to put on a show. It was community events like these, and the joie de vivre they give, that I feared we would miss out on in this extraordinary year.

 

14th July bike ride

This year Ed is with Pearl and her family, experiencing his first French family fête nationale celebrations and having a great time. With no village ‘do’ on the 13^th in our calendar, we almost forgot about celebrating the 14^th completely. We took the bikes out for a 43km ride in the afternoon, a warm and sunny ride that took us through fields of sunflowers, shady tunnels through woods, past an old cart reclining under a tree and stopping for a rest in a waist-high meadow, where I celebrated 2000km cycled so far this year. The evening ended perfectly with friends coming over for apéros in the garden, where the conversation and camaraderie certainly made up for partying we had missed out on. 

 

Back at the village bar for music night

Last night we ventured back to the village bar for our first music night post lockdown. The weather meant we could all safely distance in the garden and all the usual friendly faces were there, just the hugs and kisses that were missing. The music was lifting, we laughed, chatted and sang along, and it felt good, a small return to normal.

 

With many holiday makers from France and elsewhere hitting the west coast for their holidays, virus numbers are on the increase, even for us a little way inland. We still need to be cautious and although masks won’t be obligatory until 1^st August, we don’t leave home without ours.

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day fifty

The potager, rotivated and neatly mowed

Day fifty, 5^th May 2020

The big 50

Today we have arrived at day fifty of life in lockdown, and this feels like a significant enough number for me to mark today as something special. A quick Google search brought up the fact that in numerology, the number fifty expresses its sense of personal freedom and focusses on the positive side of things, not the negative. With France (hopefully) entering its final week of strict confinement, I think we are all focusing on our personal freedom and I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs a reminder every now and then to look to the positives rather than the negatives.

My confinement crops

The storms that rumbled around us overnight gave way to a bright, clear day although it was a little too breezy out there for me. The plan for this afternoon was for Ed to mow the orchard with the tractor, while I did the grass in the potager with the small mower and Adrian rotivated the vegetable plot. We would then be one step closer to getting the courgettes, squash and pumpkins planted out. Ed and I sowed the first seeds on day two of lockdown, so I’m really keen to get them to their final home before next Monday. I have decided that this year’s crops shall be known as the confinement crops. 

 

Neatly mowed orchard with the first blush of colour on the cherries

Things didn’t quite go to plan and after mowing only two lengths of the potager I found myself back indoors, with Mini looking after me as we listened to the gentle hum of the boy’s mowers. I'm feeling pretty pathetic and rather pissed off as although there are many gardening jobs I know I have to be careful doing, mowing is usually ok. Today, the combination of a bright, sunny day, with a breeze making everything move around in front of my eyes, was too much for my photosensitive brain. On a positive note, I was able to recognise the warning signs and avoid succumbing to a full seizure, which I’m sure Adrian was rather glad of. 

The rest of the day has passed in a lazy haze and enjoying listening to Ed playing his guitar. Just so you can have a listen to him too, here is his latest YouTube video, a track that is a real blast from my past, performed in a way that made us smile.

The morning after the night before

Bollox to Brexit

The morning after the night before

And we are still hanging in there. Following 33 months of uncertainty, fear, and anger at a situation we were thrown into without being given any reliable or reassuring information, or answers to any of our questions, and unbelievably the 29^thMarch has been and gone and nothing has changed.

The 29th March was always going to be a difficult day for me; a dark day, a day to retreat within and block out the world, but at least I thought by now we would know; deal or no deal, date of exit, the new rules we will now need to abide by. But no, nothing.

There has been no ring-fencing of citizens’ rights, there has been nothing the British government can agree on and we are no closer to understanding what happens to our futures and how we can run our business and live our lives. That is 33 months of nothing.

 

Let the party begin

Whatever the final outcome, the damage has been done; hearts have been broken, families and friendships fractured, and Britain has become a divided rather than United Kingdom. I trust no one in UK politics to unravel this mess they have created; in fact, I doubt they could even organise a piss-up in a brewery. I on the other hand, along with some equally fed up Brits in France, certainly can. A few weeks ago (when Brexit was still due to blindly happen on 29^thMarch) six of us were having lunch. The Brexit issue reared its ugly head, as usual, and one friend offered to host an evening on 29/3, so we wouldn’t have to sit alone and mope. Adrian then suggested seeing if the village bar was free that night, so we could invite a few others and the idea of a karaoke was suggested.

 

Fish & Chips at the village bar

The bar was free, and we were offered a fish’n’chip supper with dessert for 10€ a head, and in a matter of hours, word of mouth had filled all 40 seats and our Bollox to Brexit soiree was born. That, Mrs May, is how you rally the troops.

Last night forty lost souls felt slightly less alone as they celebrated the good things about life in France; the sense of community, the village bar and the wine. For one night we gave ourselves permission to let our hair down, to sing loud and forget our Brexit worries; it was a night of music and laughter, a much-needed pause in the madness. It is difficult to laugh when the world you’ve worked hard to achieve is unravelling, but laughter is a great medicine and one we all needed last night.

 

Photo credit Martin O'Neill

Today we are back to waiting, wondering and worrying, but we at least are a little bit more united than we were before.

Vive la France and the good old village bar.

This post has been linked to the Lou Messugo #AllAboutFrance link up.

Just another weekend in rural France

Giant Paella for Fêtes des Voisins

Friday evening saw us collecting Ed and his suitcase from school in the market town of Melle 25km away, feeding him and a friend and driving them to Niort, our big town, 45km away, where they enjoyed an evening out with some other friends. Having driven almost 150km, we retired to the sofa where we watched Gardeners’ World and enjoyed a glass of wine. Thankfully someone else drove them home, so all we had to do was to collect Ed from Melle (again) on Saturday afternoon. We live in a small village of less then four hundred people, with no public transport, except the school buses, and for a 16 year old there is not much going on. Ed’s social life has already moved on and away from the village.

I have been known to (affectionately) refer to life here, as living in the arse-end-of-nowhere, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t have anything going for it. I know how special it is and I also know I’m not the only one; from Parisian retirees to escapees from London life, they come from far and wide to experience life in our village. Honestly! Saturday night, for example, for the bargain price of 5€ per person we celebrated the Fêtes des Voisins (Neighbours Day) in the salle des fêtes (village hall) with a giant paella, a charades game, a DJ and live music. It was the chance for friends, new and old, French and British, to have fun and get to know each other a bit more.

As well as our French friends we found ourselves in the company of a media executive from London who owns a holiday house in the village and a press photographer (and author) who is the latest arrival to be bewitched by life here. Martin, the photographer, has also written two children’s books and having taken a sneaky peek at the first one I can see him fitting into life here just fine. All I can say is that his head must be a busy place to be if his book, which is lively, bonkers and brilliantly perfect for those with an overactive imagination, is anything to go by. As for our media executive, I shall name no names, but as I’ve seen him in the Daily Mail I know he is important and I’m sure his usual red-carpet events don’t often involve him miming a kiwi fruit, but he certainly seemed impressed with Jean-Marc’s event hosting and organisation.

Ed and Adrian rocking the salle des fêtes

For me, the highlight of the evening was watching Ed, with the help of Adrian – who hasn’t played in front of an audience since 1987, entertaining everyone with a bit of rock’n’roll, including a tribute to the late greats Chuck Berry and Rick Parfitt. Many a foot tapped along with them and hands clapped in appreciation afterwards.

Plant sale

Sunday dawned warm and sunny and Adrian and I set off to a local village who were holding a plant sale, vide grenier (car boot) and farmers market. We chatted with a few friendly faces, bought some tomato plants and then watched a rather bizarre big truck convoy that tooted it’s way through the village on it’s way to a country fair.

Chickens and cherries

It’s now Monday and the aeroplanes have whisked Adrian and the London escapees back to the real world, leaving me to my life of chicken keeping, cherry picking, lawn mowing and laundry. As well as pondering the question why do sunny mornings turn to rain the moment I hang my washing out?

If you want to check out Martin’s books, The Boy who missed Next Year (part one and two), where among other things a goldfish talks and teaches moral life lessons and a steam train comes alive from a wall calendar and whisks Barry and Cedric the Shubunkin back to the previous year, (I told you it was bonkers), then click on the Amazon links below.

Have a great week, wherever you are. This post has been linked to Paulita’s Dreaming of France blog link. Click here to read more.

Rocking the Café Bar

Rocking the Café Bar

It is not often your 15-year-old headlines at a real gig, so I thought I’d proudly share my Saturday with you, despite it turning out to be a long nine and half hours of combined taxi-ing Ed and waiting around, all for a twenty-minute performance of heavy rock. I felt like a real groupie, albeit an old and rather tired one. Much as I love our French village life, the older Ed gets the more I realise village life with teenagers has certain drawbacks and the running around is certainly one of them. I will be honest, I wasn’t looking forward to it and had resorted to bribery – I’ll make you (myself) coffee and walnut cupcakes, if you’re (I’m) brave enough to go. They helped, they really did and the bonus is that there is enough to share (with myself) this week too.

No fuel notices as seen in most petrol stations

The current fuel issues in France, where thousands of petrol stations have run dry due to industrial action at the fuel depots, plus the threat of a big storm, had all added to my pre-event worrying, but I’m pleased to report it actually all worked out for the best and there were even a few nice surprises. I decided that to drop Ed off, go home and then return to collect him later, which would mean an extra 50 km of driving, would be a waste of fuel. To occupy my time when he was at his first rehearsal, I went on a fuel treasure hunt and rather undramatically found fuel in the first supermarket I tried and unbelievably there were no queues and no restrictions, so I filled up the tank, with a rather smug smile on my face and scoffed a cupcake as my reward.

I have since read a lot of online criticism of people ‘panic buying’ and filling up before they would usually and I’ll admit that yes, that was me! You see I’m actually a lazy wimp. I still mourn the loss of the lady who used to fill my car up for me at our local supermarket, replaced by a machine that is happy to take my money, but offers nothing in terms of service and so we seem to have slipped into a routine. On our way to the airport Adrian fills the car with diesel, I then drive happy, easily covering about 80km a week just running Ed around plus the return trip to the airport, which could be anything from five to ten days later, without having to soil my hands filling up and Adrian sorts out the fuel on his return. So you see, filling up his mucky diesel was quite an accomplishment and unscheduled, but the last thing I want is not to be able to collect him from the airport later this week – obviously assuming the air traffic controllers will let the plane fly. Planning any form of travel in our poor troubled France (except by bike) is quite tricky at the moment.

 

Cabaret night at the Boulevard Café, Melle

After the excitement of the fuel it was a long and lonely afternoon of waiting, mostly sat alone with nothing but an empty chair, my ipad, my notebook and my cupcakes for company. Then I found a friend, a French lady I used to do yoga with but hadn’t seen for over a year. This was a lovely surprise and it was so much nicer to be sat at a table with someone to watch the much-anticipated cabaret that Ed was performing in. However, it was like no cabaret event I had ever been to before and I’m not sure TV talent show judge Simon Cowell has ever had to sit through quite what I had to sit through. 

A funny duo with outfits that really stood out kicked things off and were also the entre-act compares. She was a French Sue Perkins (British comedian), equally as funny and very talented, so long as you understand a very particular type of French humour. There were also lots of gentle folk-type music acts, humourous ballades (well, everyone else was laughing), flutes, violins and guitars. Bits I followed, bits I didn’t, but the cupcakes helped. There were French people singing in French and surprisingly in English too; political numbers with poor pronunciation that seemed a real hit with the almost totally French speaking audience. Right at the end of the night – midnight to be precise, Ed and the band he was an honoury member of for the night came on stage. This instantly shifted the night from French folk and humour to serious heavy rock, head banging, jumping, noise and some rather ripe language in one of the songs. They went down a storm with lots of cheers and whistles and at least one proud Mum in the audience. Here is a little video I took of one of their numbers:

Although the wind and rain arrived during the evening, the storm and power cuts that hit at home missed us. The drive home, with the clock ticking ever closer to 1.00am was very dark (despite the full moon), very quiet and on roads strewn with the debris of trees and hedgerows that had been bruised and battered by the storm. I was so pleased to get home, I treated myself to another cupcake and collapsed into bed.

Carnival in Melle

Music at the carnival

It is carnival time. Towns and cities across France are in party mood and children are parading the streets in fancy dress. There is music, laughter, fun and the smell of crepes and popcorn is in the air. Last weekend Melle, one of our local towns was celebrating, but we were not in the best of spirits and it was a quiet car journey as we made our way there.

Crepes and bonbons

Originally, the plan had been to drop Ed and his guitar off, head on to the airport to drop Adrian off, and then return to hopefully catch some of the action and bring Ed home. However this winter has shown us that plans are not something that can be relied on. Ed was suffering a nasty cold/flu bug that had kept him in bed the day before with a very high temperature, so despite his music group playing at the carnival it was touch and go as to whether he would be well enough to join them. A good nights sleep and his (and the thermometer’s) assurances that the fever had gone and I was happy (so long as he wrapped up warmly) to let him go – the show must go on as they say! The next hiccough was a French Air Traffic Control strike that had been hanging over us all weekend. Despite crossed fingers, a text from the airline (a mere two hours before departure time) confirmed our worst fears, the flight had been cancelled. The expenses for the job had been paid, but now half the work (and the money for it) would go to someone else.

I like to think there is always an upside to an upset and as the rain dried up, the clouds parted and the sun came out, I have to admit it started to look like a nice afternoon for a carnival. With no flight to catch Adrian and I were able to watch Ed perform and enjoy the fun and we weren’t disappointed. I hope you enjoy these pictures.

Streamers and stilts

The carnival parade

The theme was the sea, so there were lots of pirates, a family of sharks, a giant octopus and the narrow streets were hung with strips of fabric to give a moving water illusion.

The water effects

An octopus 

Walking the back streets

This post has been linked to The Dreaming of France link up at Paulita's blog. Click here to see more.