Something of a red letter day at Chez Bellebouche this afternoon. The culmination of a long long wait… my publishing debut!
1 November – Day Of The Dead (All Saints Day) – 2011
Today is a public holiday in France – All Saints Day – the Day of the Dead.
It is a chance to visit friends and family that have long gone, pay your respects and reflect on them and their lives. It is quite a catholic tradition and the little cemetery in our village was packed with people paying their respects, delivering flowers and saying a few quiet words.
The graves with a small photograph inserted into the stone are the most touching. A flash of the person that was, so many stories they’ll never tell and a real human face on what is just a memory.
Another, sepia shadow from the past, cracked and starting to crumble but just catching the glorious November blue sky.
Almost every grave at the village cemetery was festooned with pots of Chrysanthemums. The shops all week have been brimming with these pots.
A total riot of colour in such a stark setting.
Whatever this memorial once was, it is now on the decline… an impermanence even in death. The body that was interred has long since dissolved, the ground giving way a little and the stone starting to tumble.
The sign at the foot of the memorial…
“Cette concession en etat d’abandon fait l’objet d’une procedure de reprise veuillez vous adresser a la mairie”
So, it’s known as an unloved, uncared-for grave and will be ceded back to the commune in time.
Breathtaking colours everywhere.
Another collapsed and vanishing plot.
The very fact that someone has pushed together the little fragments of the memorial is very touching.
Such a stark contrast between the stones and the sky.
The wonderful tones of this ironwork, slowly decaying like everything else.
Anything which has the slightest surface texture picks up lichen or moss.
Long shadows of winter. The clouds casting a shadow in the sky, the stones casting long shadows across the ground.
This grave had the most stunning set of flowers on it. A beautiful floral tribute of all fresh flowers. Never seen anything like it in my life.
From Hatch To Dispatch
We are very conscious that it has been a long time since we have updated our blog. Life goes on, Adrian has had an extensive run of professional commitments outside of France and a limited opportunity to write. Technology has moved along as well, with facebook and twitter taking care of most (but not all) of our information sharing needs. I know plenty of people still read the blog and tune in once a while. Here is an update focussing on a part of our French life.
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New bigger incubator this year with automatic humidity control. Perfect for hatching goose eggs.
We tried three goose eggs last year in our smaller incubator. The eggs had to be turned manually every 6 hours. One egg was not fertile and two birds died as they hatched.
They’d pipped and broken through with their perfectly formed little beaks but then were both lost at the same time in their shells. We were heartbroken.
New Incubator
HATCH
This year a new incubator, this incubator has a gentle rocking motion – you can see the eggs here at the most extreme angle of tilt.
Unfortunately, we had a little mishap during the incubation period. The machine was accidentally unplugged for approximately 12 hours and the temperature had dropped to 18 degrees. Once it was switched back on it was a case of fingers crossed and see what happens.
Out of 6 eggs, the two eggs which were in the middle, surrounded by the others, were the only two to hatch.
After the first signs of pipping and 34 hours work, the first gosling was almost out. His tiny little elbow looked to have done most of the work but he was flagging seriously. So we broke a house-rule and helped him out.. couldn’t bear the notion of losing him to exhaustion when he was so close to hatching on his own.
The first gosling was tired, soggy and ok. Number two was going strong and the arrival of #1 sent the sibling into a frenzy, chomping his way through his own shell.
Over the next weeks the two goslings grew from little balls of fluff to graceful birds.
10 weeks old
After 10 weeks there was a touch of grace and beauty in the geese .. but still some juvenile behaviour when prompted. Despite their size they were still just babies, needing comforting by cuddling up to our feet and wary of strangers.
The garden was carpeted with the last of their baby-goose down. They barely had any idea what their wings were for, all the length in the arm/wing bones had come on in the last few weeks and their experimental flapping always seemed to take them by surprise.
23 weeks old
We moved the geese off the paddock and into a shaded courtyard. They were spending their last few days finishing on corn, fruit windfalls and copious quantities of grapes from the garden.
We had hundreds of kilos of grapes at this time of year which the birds loved. Ripe, aromatic and filled with sugar they were piling on plenty of fat as a result. Fat that will give us the worlds best roast spuds, rillets and lots of confit.
We decided that as soon as the night time temperatures dropped, the birds will start burning their fat and getting a whole new undercoat of downy feathers – both things that we have learned to avoid in goose rearing.
The day arrived. Day 163 as it happens… just 23 weeks old is no age for an animal, they were only just setting out on the road to adolescence.
DISPATCH
Goodbye Geese
Last weekend was 28 degrees and shorts and bikini weather. This weekend it was down to 12 overnight. This will signal to the birds that it’s time to fluff up for the winter so experience has taught us that it’s time to bump them off before they start to put effort into becoming super downy and burning up their own body fat.
The male (with some dark markings) had started to show some signs of thinking about being aggressive… so a sign that he was entering sexual maturity… another signal that it’s time to go.
So, down to the deed. They’re penned in to a small coral in our courtyard. No food overnight. We are deeply uncomfortable with the actual act and always take time to do it considerately and as swiftly as possible. A clean break of the neck immediately behind the head renders them insensible and then they’re bled out. It’s over very swiftly.
We can’t but help feel a huge wave of sadness though when they’re gone. Goodbyes are never easy.
Then some hard work begins… the plucking.
Almost bare !
We raise 50 birds a year for the table. Chickens and guinea fowl have been our stock in trade so far and we’re quite adept at the whole process. We can process four chickens from cluck to oven-ready in an hour. Not so with geese, they’re not only so much bigger but much harder to pluck.
We immerse them in a hot water bath at 64c for two minutes to loosen the feathers and ease plucking, but even this doesn’t always get everything out as easily as we’d like. It takes us two hours to do the two birds which have very few pin feathers and whilst downy not anywhere near as bad as the last birds we did.
Dressed out weight for each bird was 4.4Kg. Not bad when you consider that this is mostly *lawn* as an input to the equation. With added weeds, bugs, veg peelings, windfall fruit etc.
Very little wasted.
Heart goes to the cat!
Neck (and wings) into todays tom-yam thai soup.
The liver goes to paté.
The gesiers are confit’d
The body cavity fat is rendered down for the slow cooking of the confit and then preserved for the most savoury roast spuds ever.
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The garden is a lot quieter now and it seems a little empty but we are happy in the knowledge that these birds had a good healthy life and were raised in wonderful surroundings. We will enjoy our Christmas dinner knowing we did the best for them in both their life and death !
Vacances
Our summer hols this year took an unusual twist, a visit to a music festival in the North of France.
Slight travel hiccup saw me miss a flight from London so I had to hop on the Eurostar to Paris. A complete contrast to my last train outing which took me 9 hours in a queue at -3 degrees and then 5 hours to get to Paris.
Rocked up at St. Pancras at 14:40, was in France by 4pm and a bar in Montparnasse a little later.
An overnight stop in Tours after another TGV hop for a rendezvous with Joan. Next day and we reached Arras in good time to arrive at the campsite
Now, music. I’ve been to countless gigs in the UK over the years – have kind of fallen out of the habit since we’ve been in France. Professional opportunities in the UK give me an avenue to go to concerts there and I’ve rekindled my gig-habit a little over the last few years. Music festivals have always been something I’ve shied away from for many reasons but the lineup at the 2011 Main Square festival was simply astonishing. If we didn’t go to this one then we were never going to go to one ever – just getting a little too old for it I suspect.
We struck camp not long after the campsite opened – another first for us, camping. It was fun, the concerts we saw were almost all superb.
Full gallery and slideshow from the weekend is here
St Loup Sur Thouet – Painting & Sculpture Festival 2011
This weekend was the 16 ème Festival de Peinture et de Sculpture 2011 de Saint Loup Sur Thouet.
Once again (typical French advertising) I stumbled across this, almost too late.
The Festival is held over a weekend and unlike last year where it rained all weekend, this year it was scorchio – 35 degrees!
The theme for the sculptures was “Sculptures Over Water”.
Not so many artistes alongside the river this year creating their works … but still some impressive art being produced.
Many more painters than previous years, dotted all around the town painting their own views of life.
My favourite piece of all was a large wooden sculpture standing over a metre high. I wanted to be naughty and touch it as it screamed to be handled and fondled.
The artist Jean Deletre always produces stunning works and one in particular caught my eye. I was very tempted but with a price tag of 900 euros I thought I had better wait until the Euromillions ticket had been checked.
Oh well – there’s always next year !
Blue
Today’s colour is BLUE !
Just picked our first crop off our early blueberry bush. 200g doesn’t sound a lot but I have been grazing on the bush every time I visit our potager and there are plenty of fruits left on, waiting for a little more sunshine!
A few years ago, I was given three blueberry bushes as a birthday gift off my parents – early, mid and late summer varieties. We built 3 raised beds full of acidic soil and planted the blueberries along with a goji berry and lingonberry. This year the blueberries are totally coming into their own.
Unfortunately the lingonberry didn’t survive – I think it was just too exposed for it and the goji berry is trying to take over the garden – it will need a major hacking back this autumn to contain it!
The mid and late summer blueberry bushes are heavy with unripe fruit, although a few of the berries on the mid variety are starting to change colour!
mmmm I see blueberry muffins and pancakes with blueberry sauce on the menu at Chez Bellebouche !
1001 Scenes
It has been a couple of years since we visited the 1001 scenes festival at Oiron.
When it first started in 1989 there were 200 musicians and dancers – 22 years later and there are over 1,500 artistes performing in 15 different areas around the chateau.
We saw some spectacular dancers, heard some unbelievable music and got wet …
Little Gem
If there is one thing that I dislike about France (well 2 if you include the terrible drivers) is that they do not seem to be able to advertise properly. By this, I mean their local events and not lingerie or perfume !
Summer is the time for lots of events – musical, theatrical, artistic etc etc – but if you are not careful – all of these things pass you by as you would only find out about them if
a – you actually drive into the town of the event and see the signs or
b – purchase a local paper – and then not all of the events are in it or
c – discover it on a really badly designed webpage or
d – hear about it after the event and make a note in your diary for next year !
On the odd occasion that I go into Parthenay town I always take a look at the posters on the Nouvelle Republic’s office window. Adrian’s folks were visiting and his dad spotted a flier for a musical evening performance in a park – somewhere in Parthenay. After searching for the park on a local map I thought – no worries Google is my friend – I will find out all about it online.
After searching the websites of the local tourist office and local paper – nothing. Searching for key words and still nothing. We could remember the time and place so tried to find the park – guess what – nothing.
So not defeated we decided to just go in and drive around until we found the park – shouldn’t be too difficult. Yes – after asking 4 people in town (“near the cinema”) and then another en route (“somewhere over there”) – we found the park. Nestled between a gymnastics hall, football pitch and tennis courts was a lovely green space, typically French with lots of grass and a variety of trees. A small raised bank was made into the staged area.
As we arrived a big band swing jazz ensemble were playing some twists on well known songs – Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit, Eurythmics Talking To An Angel etc.
But the real gem of the night was Swing Home Trio – three musicians (obviously) – double bass, lead and rhythm guitars. WOW – gypsy jazz manouche – super fast playing, great shoulder moving, hip swaying, foot tapping music.
I am so glad that we stumbled across the advert in town and made an effort to find the park. A great night was had by all !
As we like to support up and coming musicians we bought 2 of their CDs between us. I am certain that Swing Home Trio will be the soundtrack to summer 2011 at Bellebouche.
A Welcome Return Visitor
After our little sojourn in South Africa we have both become quite a pair of twitchers. One of the delights of Spring after a long cold winter is the arrival of the summer visitors. This year the first to arrive was the Hoopoe, followed by the Cuckoo and then the Swallows.
My heart soars when I hear the wonderful songs of these birds for the first time in the year. I know that the better weather is arriving and summer barbecues are on the horizon.
When we first arrived at Bellebouche our first sighting of the hoopoe was down the lane. A pair were nesting and we would catch a glimpse of them occasionally and hear their calls frequently. Over the years they, and their progeny, have moved closer and closer until …
One morning, while Adrian was making toast, this little fellow flew to the window and looked in. Adrian ran and grabbed his camera and took some photos before he disappeared.
As I sat in the kitchen he returned back and seemed to be chasing a fly on the window. The fly was on the inside but the hoopoe wouldn’t give up …
After a good 10 minutes he then flew off, only to return a few days later to tap on the window again. We now have a pair , who visit nearly every day and sit on the barns opposite or patrol our lawns.
I can’t wait to see their young and hope they bring them to our garden to show them off !
