Advent Day Fourteen, a story that wanted to be told

Mannekin Pis, Poitiers

Advent Day Fourteen

Today I have a story that wanted to be told so much, it kept popping up in my life, until I took notice.

 

I’m sure you’ve all heard of Manneken Pis, the bronze fountain sculpture of a little boy having a wee, that is one of Brussels’s most famous tourist spots? Well, this week I’ve discovered there is a double, with a lovely story attached to it, and it lives in Poitiers. 

 

In 1940, when Europe was at war and Germany had begun its invasions, Belgium asked France for help, specifically for somewhere safe for their officials to operate from. Despite Poitiers being over six-hundred kilometres from the Belgium border, it was the town that welcomed the government, administration and police from Brussels. It wasn’t a long-term arrangement, in fact one book I read mentions a period of only twenty-six days, but as a token of their thanks, the Belgium police presented a Mannekin Pis to their Poitevin colleagues in May 1950. 

 

I’ve been dipping in and out of local history and tourist books for many years, but it wasn’t until finding Poitiers Remarkable in the library last week, that I discovered this interesting story and so far, none of my local French friends I’ve spoken to have known about it either. Only days later, at a brocante sale in our village, I stumbled upon a small statute of Mannekin Pis on a table of unloved ornaments. As I tried to explain the Poitiers story to some French friends, whilst browsing through the second-hand books, I found Voici Poitiers, a guidebook dating from 1978. There at the back (as if to prove this mad Englishwoman wasn’t quite as batty as they feared) was a page dedicated to the Poitiers Police commissioners very own Mannekin Pis. I think you will agree he was doing his best to get my attention and I’m guessing he wants his story shared with you too.

 

I would love to share a photo of him, but Ed and I loitered outside the Police HQ yesterday afternoon, doing our best to peer in through the closed doors (without arousing suspicions), but neither of us were brave enough to demand entry, just to see their famous little statue. Maybe next time. 

Would you have dared?

Poitiers Remarkable, Geste Editions 2022
Voici Poitiers, Editions Pub 86 1978

Advent Day Thirteen, Poitiers nativity scenes

Nativity scene, St Pierre's Cathedral, Poitiers 

Advent Day Thirteen

Thirteen might be considered unlucky for some, but as I got to spend the day with Ed in Poitiers, today was a lucky day for me. Ed might not think the same, as the reason I was with him was because he had a small procedure at the hospital this morning. I was prepared to spend a calm day, at his side, with lots of books to keep me company, but having tucked into the three-course meal the hospital provided him at lunchtime, he was in tip top form all afternoon. 

My recent finds

 

The great thing about having given birth to a fellow book nerd is that he too fell into the pages of the two books on Poitiers that I recently got my hands on. Over a cup of tea and piece of cake, we poured over the pages before wrapping up warmly and setting out to explore. He might have lived there for four years now, but we are all still learning so much about its history. 

 

Remains of Roman amphitheatre, Poitiers

We covered about seven kilometres on foot (not bad for someone who was under anaesthetic this morning) and as well as taking in the Christmas markets and decorations, we also found what remains of a Roman amphitheatre. Admittedly there isn’t too much left to see now, but in its day, it was one of the largest arenas in the Roman Gaul, measuring one hundred and forty metres in length, holding over thirty-thousand spectators, and was older than the amphitheatre in Nimes or even the Colosseum in Rome. All this history just tucked away and hidden amongst the houses, in a quiet street in Poitiers, just blows my mind.

Beautiful interior of St Radegonde's church, Poitiers

 

Poitiers is famous for its many churches, but we only had time to visit a couple today, both of which had beautiful nativity scenes. It was my first visit to the impressive St Radegonde church, where we were lucky enough to hear the organ playing and enjoy the stained-glass windows, although in the late afternoon gloomy light, the underground crypt where the tomb of St Radegonde lies, was rather creepy, especially when we managed to lose each other. 

The nativity scene at St Radegonde, Poitiers

 

Thanks for a great day Ed. I’m already looking forward to our next visit. 

Advent Day Twelve, decorating the village

Handmade decorations

Advent Day Twelve

Decorating the village

We are halfway through Advent and although decorations have been popping up in villages all around us, until today, our village wasn’t looking too festive. This afternoon a small group of elves met outside the village hall to help install and decorate the wooden Christmas trees that were made by volunteers in 2015. Sadly, this year we were a very small group and if I’m honest, somewhat lacking in Christmas cheer. I think the problem was that, as so often happens, it falls to the same few people to organise and it's easy to feel overwhelmed with the responsibility, especially in the run up to Christmas. 

My cycling elves

I wasn’t the only one of us who has a seriously packed-out diary this week, but I think I managed to raise a smile or two with my silly Santa hat and my cycling elves giving us a helping hand. Christmas at home might be a low-key affair, but I do love being involved in decorating the village and helping Père Noel to distribute his gifts to the children. 

 

The trees might be decorated in a more minimalist fashion this year, with a little less of the garish garlands of tinsel, but with the lights on the salle des fêtes and the shiny bows, there is still a bit of sparkle and magic.

 

Our village looking festive

Our families in the UK awoke to snow this morning and a little further north from here also had a few flurries. I’m not a fan of snow so thankfully, we are snow-free for the moment, but it did drop to -3º overnight. My winter discovery today is that my new glove/mittens were just perfect for having my fingers free to tie up the fiddly ribbons on the Christmas tree bows, while the rest of my hands stayed nice and warm. I will be keeping my fingers crossed (also easy in my new glove/mittens) that it won’t snow here.

 

Advent Day Eleven, in the pink

Sue's pink rose

Advent Day Eleven

In the Pink or La Vie en Rose

Pink was the favourite colour of our friend Sue who we lost at the end of November, and she especially loved pink roses. At the sewing club she helped to set up, while I was drawn to blue patterned fabrics for my projects, she would always choose the pretty pink florals. Almost two weeks ago, village friends gathered with her family, to pay our respects, as her (pink) urn was placed in the cemetery memorial garden. I had brought down a bright pink planter, filled with pink and white cyclamens, while another friend had a single pink rose from her garden, almost the same colour as a crocheted rose pinned to the lapel on her coat, a birthday gift, handmade by Sue. At the end of the service, I noticed the funeral director pick up the rose and prod it into the planter but thought no more of it until a week later, when we were sadly back in the cemetery, to witness the placing of another urn. I couldn’t believe that Sue’s pink rose was thriving, standing tall and still in full bloom. Almost another week has gone by and as we walked Mini past the cemetery today, I popped in to see Sue’s rose again. The flower might now be beginning to fade but not one petal has yet fallen, despite temperatures dropping below zero this weekend and it having had no water. In fact, it looks happier than the cyclamens. I don’t know about you, but I just love it when inexplicable things like this happen, to connect us in a small way with those we have lost. 

 

In the pink

The French have a lovely phrase, La Vie en rose, immortalised by Edith Piaf in the song that made her famous. Translated to life in pink, or in the pink, it essentially means to see life through rose-tinted glasses, always looking for the positives and finding beauty in everyday things. As this year draws to a close, world politics are still unstable, the cost of living is making things difficult for so many, and like us, lots of families have lost loved ones, I think we could all do with a reminder to look for the beauty in the simple things. Christmas shouldn’t be a time of stress and worry, as we put the pressure on ourselves to fulfil unrealistic expectations. Stop, take a moment, and look for something simple that makes you smile. The weekend frost might have finished off the autumn leaves, but I love this pink confetti it created, that warmed up our cold bike ride this afternoon.

The beauty of fallen leaves

 

Here is my Sunday roundup and the links to the last week’s Advent posts, just in case you missed any:

Day Four, baguettes and boulangeries

Day Five, celebrating International Volunteer Day

Day Six, book review of The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

Day Seven, Christmas at the library

Day Eight, book review of The Golden Oldies Book Club

Day Nine, addicted to gloves

Day Ten, waking up to winter

 

Advent Day Ten - waking up to winter

Happy fingers

Advent Day Ten – waking up in winter

What a lucky find those glove/mittens were yesterday, as this morning it was -1º outside and 8.6º in our unheated bedroom. A mist shrouded the village for most of the morning, obscuring the sun and keeping the temperature down. This cosmic shift into winter meant a few changes of routine and I have to admit to flicking the switch for the heating before we’d had our breakfast, rather than during the cheaper rate electricity at lunchtime.

 

The weather put a stop to cycling to the Christmas market as planned, as that would have been foolish, and no one needs an incident just before Christmas. Instead, I busied myself with a bit of housework to keep warm and as the bed was stripped, it seemed only sensible to put the electric blanket on too. That should make things nice and cosy later on. I also found the time to switch my summer clothes for winter clothes, which meant falling in love again with my fleecy-lined trousers – thank you Decathlon once more. 

Mini and I in our almost matching jumpers

 

Mini is almost fifteen and although she spends most of her time curled up and snoring on a bed of fleece blankets (on the sofa), she does now suffer when it’s cold. One of the other things we found when shopping yesterday was a jumper for Mini. This will mainly be for car journeys, but we couldn’t resist trying it for size, and for a dog that isn’t too keen on being faffed with, she seemed quite happy in her pink jumper with a shiny bone motif.

A fresh 31km bike ride

 

Luckily the sun came out this afternoon, so it was off with the fleecy trousers and on with the merino wool layers as we set off for a thirty-kilometre bike ride. It was a fresh and invigorating ride and there was still ice in places, but the colours in the setting sun were superb. I’m delighted to report that the new glove/mittens kept the Reynaud’s at bay and the fingers nice and toasty. I’m also now only sixty-five kilometres away from reaching five-thousand-kilometres this year, so fingers crossed I should be able to achieve that. It is a thousand less than I would have liked, but it’s been a year where things other than cycling have had to take priority. At least most of my commutes to the Château were on the bike and even though it’s only eight kilometres from home, I cycled a total of one thousand, four hundred and seventy-one commuting kilometres this year. That is quite a saving in fuel.

 

I know it’s been cold in the UK today too, so I hope wherever you are, you are toasty and warm, and these three silly photos of me have put a smile on your face.

Advent Day Nine - addicted to gloves

Just some of my glove/mitten collection

Advent Day 9

I think I might have a bit of a glove addiction. Once again, we found ourselves out shopping today. I know for many, this would be considered a treat and a great way to spend the day, but I am not a shopper. Next week is shaping up to be a busy week, with five days’ work in the calendar for Adrian and something different every day for me, so stocking up on food was a necessity that couldn’t be avoided and with Christmas on the horizon, we did a bit of browsing around too. 

 

The first shop we found ourselves in was the sports chain Decathlon, as they had a promotion on some must-have gloves. This week has seen our temperatures drop to 0º, with crisp frosty mornings and icy winds that cut right through you. We both suffer with cold fingers when cycling in the winter and mine especially don’t need it to be that cold before the Raynaud’s kicks in and my blood refuses to flow to my fingertips. These deathly yellow digits are no use whatsoever. They can’t grip the handlebars, squeeze the brakes, or do anything useful, and they hurt.

My new glove/mitten combos

 

I have thin under gloves, thermal gloves, thick padded gloves, chunky hand-knitted mittens, fingerless gloves, and silly gloves. Sometimes I wear more than one pair of gloves at a time and the fingerless ones are great indoors. What I didn’t have, until today, was thick, warm glove/mitten combos. These beauties are fingerless gloves with a fold-over mitten top and will be just perfect on bike rides. The mittens will keep my fingers toasty and warm, but if I need to my fingers to take a photo, I won’t have to keep taking my gloves on and off. In extreme cold, I can even wear my thermal under gloves as well and they have a clever magnet to keep the mitten top from flapping back.

In French a glove is un gant (a masculine word), but a pair of gloves is une paire de gants as the word for pair is feminine. 

 

Stay warm this weekend, my friends. We are hoping to get a bit of cycling in as we both have a few more kilometres to ride to meet our year end targets, but at least we’ll have warm fingers.

 

Book review of The Golden Oldies' Book Club by Judy Leigh

The Golden Oldies' Book Club by Judy Leigh

The Golden Oldies' Book Club by Judy Leigh

 

Deep in the Somerset countryside, the Combe Pomeroy village library hosts a monthly book club.

 

Ruth the librarian fears she’s too old to find love, but a discussion about Lady Chatterley’s Lover makes her think again.

 

Aurora doesn’t feel seventy-two and longs to relive the excitement of her youth, while Verity is getting increasingly tired of her husband Mark’s grumpiness and wonders if their son’s imminent flight from the nest might be just the moment for her to fly too. And Danielle is fed up with her cheating husband. Surely life has more in store for her than to settle for second best?

 

The glue that holds Combe Pomeroy together is Jeannie. Doyenne of the local cider farm and heartbeat of her family and community, no one has noticed that Jeannie needs some looking after too. Has the moment for her to retire finally arrived, and if so, what does her future hold?

 

From a book club French exchange trip, to many celebrations at the farm, this is the year that everything changes, that lifelong friendships are tested, and for some of the women, they finally get the love they deserve.

 

The Golden Oldies' Book Club by Judy Leigh

My Review

This is a lovely read that pivots around a group of friends whose lives are ripe for change. Set with the backdrop of a cider farm, I loved how we moved through the seasons with the apple trees in Jeannie’s orchard. From the blossoms and promise of new beginnings, to the harvest and the cider making, plus all the Somerset traditions and festivals surrounding it. Nature was as strong as the female characters I’ve come to enjoy in a Judy Leigh novel.

 

Jeannie certainly had a lot on her plate, running a cider farm and managing a multi-generational family leaves her little time for anything else. The book club at the library is her moment of escape, just as it was for the others in the group, all of whom had become lost in the routine of life. I know from experience how a simple village library can play an important role in the community, so I was a big fan of librarian Ruth who understood just what it meant to them all. Her idea to resurrect the town-twinning link and plan a trip to France gave them all something to look forward to and their time away cemented their bonds of friendships.

 

There were sad bits, funny bits and lots of heart-warming moments as with the help of a little bit of library magic, the ladies rediscover their dreams. Together they are there to support each other as they make plans for the next stages of their lives. Following their journeys was a delight.

 

If you are looking for a heart-warming, uplifting read, add The Golden Oldies Book Club to your wish list.

 

Purchase Links 

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Judy Leigh

 

Author Bio

 

Judy Leigh is the USA Today bestselling author of The Old Girls’ Network and Five French Hens and the doyenne of the ‘it’s never too late’ genre of women’s fiction. She has lived all over the UK from Liverpool to Cornwall, but currently resides in Somerset.

 

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The Golden Oldies Book Club by Jenny Leigh

You might also like my review of Judy’s Lil’s Bus Trip 

Advent Day Seven, Christmas at the library

Some Christmas themed books at our village library

Advent Day Seven

Christmas at the library

This afternoon, I’ve had fun at the village library putting together a little display of Christmas themed books and magazines to tempt our readers. There is something for everyone, from children’s stories, books on oysters and foie gras – both typically found on the Christmas and New Year table in France, and magazines full of ideas for decorations, recipes and seasonal days out. It isn’t quite as festive as I’d have liked, but with all the decorations locked in the basement, it was the best I could do today.

Qui a peur du Père Fouette ?

 

One of the books that caught my eye was called “Qui a peur du Père Fouettard ?” This translates to “Who is afraid of Father Whipper?” - although fouettard can also be used to describe a bogeyman. Instead of a jolly Père Noel, dressed in red and with his sack of presents, Père Fouettard, is dressed in dark robes, looks rather grumpy and brandishes a whip (un fouet). 

 

We have all grown up knowing that Father Christmas only visits the good children, but in France the naughty children don’t just miss out on presents and Christmas cheer, they risk a visit from Père Fouettard (and his whip) and will receive a scolding for their misdemeanours.

 

You’ll be pleased to hear that in this book, Père Fouettard decides he has had enough of being nasty to the children, and as poor Père Noel is having to make his deliveries on foot, as his reindeers are all feeling poorly, the two of them decide to work together. After all, it is much nicer to bring joy and happiness, and help out a friend, than to be the one to deliver a scolding.

 

Ho ho ho!

Book review of The Spice Master of Bistro Exotique by Samantha Vérant

The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique by Samantha Vérant

The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique

Kate Jenkins doesn't believe in fate. She believes in a clear vision, meticulous planning, and hard work in order to achieve her culinary dreams. On the cusp of opening her own Parisian restaurant, Bistro Exotique, she isn't even concerned when her standoffish--and annoyingly sexy--neighbor dismisses her as a crazy American tourist or when she meets the wildly eccentric Garrance, the self-proclaimed Spice Master of Paris, who ominously warns her of the previous owner's failures.

Confident and optimistic, Kate keeps calm and cooks on. Until a series of unfortunate events derail her plans and her entire staff quits.

Kate is about to throw in the kitchen towel on her lifelong dream when Garrance offers to use her mastery of scents and spices to help her, but it comes at a price: Kate must work with Garrance's son, Charles, a world-class chef and total jerk. After Kate hesitantly concedes to the deal, she slowly learns to open her heart and mind to new concepts, not quite sure if the magic she's experiencing comes from Garrance's spices, from within herself, or from the growing chemistry with Charles. One thing is certain, though: her kitchen is getting increasingly hot.

 

My Review

It’s always exciting when an author whose writing you love releases a new book that whisks you off to Paris, and just in time for Christmas too; I was grinning from page one and loved every minute.

 

The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique is a vibrant, lively and incredibly funny read, with crazy characters I wanted to be friends with. I felt for Kate, who finds herself living a nightmare, as despite focus and planning, everything that could possibly go wrong as she opens the bistro of her dreams, does go wrong. Then there is her mother, loving and supportive, but oh, so embarrassing, she had me laughing a lot. When eccentric Garrance, her sidekick Juju, and her mysterious collection of spices enter Kate’s life, things suddenly begin to heat up in her kitchen. Sometimes in life, the trick is knowing what (or who) to pair together for the magic to happen. 

 

I devoured chapter after chapter. Like a good recipe, this book contained just the right mix of ingredients to create a perfectly balanced dish read, full of spice, flavour sensations that made my mouth water and just enough heat to raise my temperature a few degrees. 

 

This is another feast of a read from Samantha Vérant and if you are looking for a romantic getaway to Paris, add The Spice Master at Bistro Exotique to your Christmas list, you won’t be disappointed.

Purchase Links

 

Author Bio

Samantha Vérant is a travel addict, a self-professed oenophile, and a determined, if occasionally unconventional, French chef. She lives in southwestern France, where she's able to explore all of her passions, and where she's married to a sexy French rocket scientist she met in 1989, but ignored for twenty years.

 

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You might also like to read my France et Moi interview with Samantha or my reviews of her previous books:

France et Moi with Samantha Verant 

Seven Letters from Paris 

How to Make a French Family 

The Secret French Recipes of Sophie Valroux 

Sophie Valroux’s Paris Stars 

 

All of these are great reads for Francophiles.

International Volunteer Day

Our village decorations - made by volunteers

Advent Day Five

The 5^th of December is International Volunteer Day, or in French Journée mondiale des bénévoles. I read this morning that giving your time gives you a sense of worth and purpose, whilst creating positive feelings, and connecting you with other people, thus helping improve your mental well-being. As someone who arrived in France with a young child, knew no one in the village and had a husband whose work took him away from home a lot of the time, volunteering was my lifeline for all the reasons stated above. It has also proved to be an effective way to improve my French, boost my self-confidence and ultimately led to paid employment too. 

 

One of the first things I became involved in was our village magazine and I can vividly remember sitting in the meetings and not understanding a word, let alone being able to contribute anything, apart from helping with the folding, stapling and distribution. Eighteen years on, and I’m still folding, stapling and delivering, but I’m also translating parts of it into English and enjoying the chat and gossip that goes on around the table when we meet up once a month.

 

When Ed started at the local nursery school, I made a point of always saying yes when parents were asked to help out. The weekly craft activities when he was under six and the overnight school trips in primary school, were great fun and gave me a sense of reassurance and a better understanding of the French school culture. Ed’s step up from primary to secondary school was certainly smoother for us both due to the fact I’d been running a weekly English language club for the two years before he moved up. It was an unexpected bonus to learn that this had given me ‘cool’ status among his peers.

 

Life in our French village would be nothing without a core of volunteers. Aside from the monthly magazine, the library, the summer social events, the handmade Christmas decorations, the Children’s Christmas party and more, all exist in our village solely thanks to volunteers. Being one of these volunteers has not only helped me find my place in the village, but it also led to me being elected onto the village council in 2014, something I thoroughly enjoyed being a part of for over six years and offered me many experiences I would otherwise have missed out on. 

My 121st monthly piece in The Deux-Sèvres Monthly

 

Working at the library in Chef-Boutonne came about thanks to being a volunteer at our village library, and in turn led to me being offered the position to work at the Château de Javarzay this year. Having a wealth of new and exciting life experiences here in France encouraged me to start this blog back in 2006. This in turn led to regular contributions to the Deux-Sèvres Monthly magazine and despite never having written anything longer than a letter, I can’t now imagine not having these creative outlets in my life. 

 

I am not the most confident or outgoing person, so to think I could have moved here all those years ago and shut myself indoors for fear of my French not being good enough, is a scary thought. What would I have done with my days when Ed was at school? How would I have met people and learned French? I shudder to think how different my life would be now. It hasn’t always been easy, but it has been rewarding, and volunteering has shaped the person I am today.

 

If you are also a volunteer – Happy Volunteer Day to you. If you’re not yet a volunteer – what are you waiting for? It could change your life. 

Advent Day Four, baguettes, boulangeries and Père Noel

Today's lunch of soup and flat bread

Advent Day Four

We started today by making a batch of flat breads that will keep nicely in the freezer and enable us to have one each with our lunchtime soup for the next ten days. Soup quickly became a winter lunch staple for us when we moved to France in 2004. I can’t even remember if it started with the summer glut of courgettes that became a freezer stocked with soup, or from the realisation that despite gloriously warm summers when our old stone house remained cool inside, winters in rural France turned out to be so much colder than I’d imagined. The cool stone quickly became cold and damp with icy air invading through draughty gaps. Nothing warms you up from the inside quite like a bowl of chunky soup, served piping hot and topped with melted cheese. 

Here is a fun French fact - did you know that despite the French accompanying most meals with a baguette, the one meal they don’t serve with bread is soup?

The baguette vending machine in our village

 

This week the French baguette was granted a UNESCO world heritage status. Buying their daily bread is part of the rhythm of life for French people with twelve million of them shopping in a boulangerie every day and with over six billion baguettes being baked every year, it is the most popular of all French breads. This prompted our local French newspaper to run a poll, asking “do you still eat baguettes daily?” and I was surprised that only 70% of respondents said they did. Sadly, we fell in the 30% who don’t – shh, don’t let on to my French friends, but even when we had a boulangerie down the road, a daily baguette intake just doesn’t agree with my English digestive system, and I’ve yet to use the baguette vending machine that was installed in our village in April. 

Envelopes and post box for Père Noel at our local boulangerie

 

We did visit one of the local boulangeries this week, for a croissant to have with a coffee, and I couldn’t help smiling when I saw it has become a temporary Christmas post office. Isn’t this just the sweetest Père Noel post box? 

 

If you want to know more about French bread, you might like this post from two years ago:

How to eat your bread

 

Here are the links to my previous 2022 Advent posts, just in case you missed any of them this week:

Farewell November

Back in the Creuse with a great fun cosy Christmas who dunnit

Festive fun with French words