Well Being, Well Intentioned, Well I never !!

Our creative year took off with a surge of energy as the wonderful and serene Alexia Fachon www.ambikayoga.fr and the equally fabulous Murielle Naigeon www.mnaigeon-nutrition.fr brought their own style of vitality to Les Cerisiers last weekend. Our guests destressed through yoga in the barn, re-energised with a healthy, tasty eating programme and took the pure air on several local walks. Everyone left with a healthy glow both inside and out.

There are very few things that I find fault with here in this idyllic world, but I did get a little cross a few weeks back when the checkout girl in Carrefour forgot to ask for our fidelity card. I was quite put out when I was told there was nothing that could be done to rectify the loss of a quite considerable amount of points on a couple of hundred euros worth of shopping. I hastily filled in my complaints card and left it at the service counter never expecting to have a response. Within two days, however, the store manager rang to apologise and say there was a voucher waiting for us next time we shopped.

A week later and we were invited to participate in a customer round table focussing on till-(wo)manship. A basket full of pastries and another with strawberries as large as tennis balls awaited us and a dozen other 'table ronde' participants in the Carrefour conference room. Teas, coffees and juices were served and we were also treated to a large slab of their speciality cake Trianon. Yum. We discussed our favourite aisles (cheese, and cat food - for the variety) and those we were less impressed with (world food, kitchen ware) and had a thoroughly enjoyable time of it. As we left we were presented with a large bag of Carrefour groceries (see above) which has kept us going a week. Well done Carrefour - we think your intentions are admirable.

The chickens seem to have settled in nicely and are doing a fine job of keeping the weeds down and supplying us with nutrient rich manure. However, we have now been faced with broodiness from our girl Plum which seems to have upset the apple cart (or should that be egg box) somewhat. Not quite a Les Cerisiers record but we came home to a fairly large egg and a minute 'wind' egg yesterday. Isn't nature funny at times?

Making hay...

Sorry to be so terribly British but the weather really is the topic of the moment. Who can believe this on going heat wave (can you have an Indian Spring?) No central heating needed for several weeks and when I look back at the snow drops gathered just a few short weeks back, these forebearers of warmer weather and a life lived once more out of doors, seem oddly passé.

Today I've returned to my foraging habits (never say no to free food) and, having stumbled across an old recipe from Lady Ridley (not sure where I got this from but, I can assure you, it was not hand delivered) I decided to give it a go.

Lady Ridley's Nettle Soup
Ingredients:
1 lb potatoes
½ lb young nettles
2 oz butter
1½ pts chicken or vegetable stock
sea salt & black pepper
4 tablespoons sour cream

Method:

Cook the peeled, chopped potatoes for 10 mins in salted water. Drain.
Wash & chop coarsely the nettles (Only pick the new, young tops,using gloves!)
Melt the butter in a saucepan, add the nettles and stew gently for a few minutes. Add the potatoes and heated stock, bring to the boil and simmer for 10 minutes or until tender.
When all is soft, cool slightly & purée in a blender, adding seasoning and the sour cream.

One tip I will add, when harvesting from lanes and gardens, if the ingredients smell like cat pee - theres a reason for this...

This good weather has also brought the walkers out en mass. Every village has a walk or two that is particular to their commune and Sunday mornings are now happily spent deciding which one to go on. The Marche de perce neige (snow drop walk) is our villages' walk and kicks off the season the first sunday in March. Last year I only managed three walks so I'm aiming to beat that record. So far Mireille (lovely neighbour) and I have walked 10k around Montmelard and Trambly (more like trembly by time se got back) and tomorrow we're heading over to one of the well known wine villages here abouts- Viré. As the walks are usually themed, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that a glass or two of their finest will pass my lips at some point. The 'snacks' are always a high point as illustrated. 

OK, soups all finished and I've got a couple of willing friends (guinea pigs) to give it a go. Thumbs up for the soup and the home mage rolls - and another lunch out doors.

Welcome to the Party Village


The first big social event of 2012 here in Montmelard is now behind us and what an event it was. The Poule au Riz evening (pronounced pooloree) - chicken and rice to you and me, was a huge success and shall no doubt be talked about for generations to come. I am all the more chuffed that it was such a triumph as it was the first Soirée that I had been involved in. The aim of the evening was to raise funds to buy hats for the class of 2 (see previous blogs) Jour des Conscrits as well as to provide some light relief from the cold days of winter. So, having spent the day setting up trestle tables, laying place settings for 160 people, slicing tomatos for the same number and generally lending a hand, 7pm found me sitting down to an early supper with my co-organisers - the lull before the storm.
Someone raised a valuable point - we needed to make sure that all attendees produced their tickets on arrival. We didn't want any opportunists, who just happened to be cruising by, gate crashing our evening and having a supper for free. I thought this was a joke until I saw the solemn faces nodding agreement. 'Is this likely to happen?' I asked pointing out that we were a small community in the middle of nowhere and the temperature was hovering around the -8 mark. 'We are on a hill and for miles around you can see the lights and hear the music.' Montmelard would become a beacon for any good time folk from Charolles to Macon.

The maximum number of entrants for the village hall is around 140, 120 to be on the safe side so it was no surprise that we had managed to sell 160 eat in tickets and 40 odd take aways. 4 of us serving wenches were to feed the hoards as another team dished up in the kitchen, a couple sold bottles of wine and the rest manned the bar. I can't remember the last time I worked so hard or removed my cardigan in January. Shimmying between the close aisles of happy eaters I kept my smile but lost the contents of my tray twice into the same young mans lap. He was a forgiving type and said there were no hard feelings. The atmosphere was certainly one of Bon Hommie and my designated table guests were happy to help with gathering up the debris and ensuring that I had a slurp or two of wine to keep my strength up.

As before, I encountered a number of people who were born, raised and are happy to see out their days in Montmelard among their friends and loved ones who have similarly spent their lives in this beautiful region. There is a strange (to me who has always been something of a nomad) sense of peace and belonging here and as I took to the dance floor, inbetween serving cheese and tarte au pommes, I felt strongly that I was exactly where I should be.
You've got to love a place where the bar prices show wine and beer as 1 euro a glass and Coca Cola at 1.50 euro, doing our bit for stamping out artificial additives. My turn as bar maid came exactly two minutes before we ran out of beer (2.30am). After auctioning off the final bottle, the beer drinkers effortlessly made the transition to wine.
It was lovely to see the coming together of all ages and both sexes on the dance floor. Young and old alike jived to 60s beats, trotted round to folk songs and then bounced about to modern pop. One dance struck me as the French equivalent of Oranges and Lemons, it involved having a partner, holding hands and promenading under the arches made by other dancers. The only difference in the French version was that as you made the rounds you were frequently tickled and had your bottom smacked!!

At 04.20hrs I knew it was time to go home - I needed to be back at 9am to clear up and I would have to grab some sleep, feed Eddie cat and my chickens plus tidy the house (Mark had been away) before then. As I left the party was going strong but the sounds were soon muffled by the snow that had begun to fall silently outside.

See amid the winter snow...

Well, winter has finally got us and that is OK with me being as it's Christmas next weekend. I must admit though, it has rather caught us out. We've had the longest of summers and mildest of springs and autumns and I was beginning to forget what cold was. Then - wham, a dump of snow and we're plunged onto the set of a Christmas card.

Nature seems to have been a little taken by surprise as well. My roses, fuscias, lobellia and marigolds were all happily continuing to bloom. Time to make way for the holly and mistletoe - which, by the way, grows here in abundance and is free!

I love popping round to friends' houses to see their preparations in full swing. Lovely Linda is making chutneys and pie fillings (thanks for the mincemeat and apple and cranberry chutney): S has a half decorated tree as her children aren't as yet tall enough to decorate the top section and INSISTED they trimmed it alone; and B dried her marzipan with a hair dryer after her husband added too much egg!

We visited our local patisserie this week to order our yule log (buche) which is the French Christmas cake. We were assaulted by the smell of gingerbread as we entered the shop and left with a chocolate log, three ginger bread men, a chestnut macaron, chocolate fancy and a partridge in a pear tree.

So, Christmas tree up, presents wrapped, Eddie cat slumped in front of log fire, food bought. I think we're there!!

I never tire of walking the lanes close to my home and did so this afternoon to catch a bit of freshair whilst walking off fruit cake, mince pies and fudge picked up on a recent trip back to the UK. In all the excitement that is Christmas, it's nice to take a bit of a breather. My tip for staying calm is to find a lovely location, stop still, close your eyes and don't move again until you've identified ten sounds. In no particular order I heard cows mooing (this is the Charolles); Bon bon my neighbours (not so) baby donkey braying in anticipation of his first Christmas; something, probably a mouse or bird, scurrying around under the hedgerow; a car - yes, two or three do pass our house each day; a pigeon calling from the wood; children screaming (in a good way) as they came down a field slope on a sledge; a womans voice directing her husband as he strung fairy lights over an ancient barn; my neighbours dog, Vanille, barking as someone must have come up to the front door; the village church bell striking 20 minutes past the hour and the dripping of snow as it melted from the holly bush where I had stopped. Deep breath - aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Hope you have a very merry, joy filled, fun and magical Christmas.

The joy of knitting

My capacity to continually surprise myself, well - quite simply, it surprises me. This week was no exception.  I admit it, I am now a knitter. I own three sets of knitting needles, have the first two pattern books in my knitting library and a bag dedicated to carrying my 'in progress' projects around with me just in case I find a spare minute or two to slip a couple of stitches in. What a fascinating world I have stumbled into. It all began after a friend who is keen on this art asked me whether I could take her to the Plassard factory shop. Plassard is one of the main knitting companies in France and they have their sheep, museum and factory just a few miles away. I was going to drop my friend at the door and pick her up later, not wanting anyone to spot me in an establishment reserved for old ladies and spinsters with cats. But curiosity got the better of me and I thought I'd just take a peek - just for information you understand, some of our guests may want to know about the place. Kid in a candy shop - the colours, textures, and funkiness of the place sucked me in and when we left over an hour later, I had balls of wool in my possession that I hadn't the faintest idea what I was going to do with. I found myself being drawn back to the place time and again over the next few months, each time leaving with another ball of glittery ribbonned wool, fleecy shaggy wool, bobbly mad wool.... and so it might have continued if my friend B hadn't stopped me in my tracks with a poignant and relevent question 'Can you knit'? No, I couldn't. 'Why don't you learn?'

Why don't I indeed. So, B and I signed up for an afternoon introduction to knitting. B drew up a list of vocabulary which we studied and tested each other on, we chose patterns for very simple jumpers (all knit no purl and created in one piece - no sleeves) and off we went. I loved it. I couldn't put my knitting down and took it to friends houses, on a plane ride to the UK, to visit relatives and even to bed with me! I tell myself that this is good finger exercise staving off arthritis, that having a wooly something on my knees will keep me warm in winter but the truth is I just enjoy the repetition, the watching something grow that will serve a purpose and make someone smile, the using my time creativley. The joy of spending the afternoon course with other women sharing time and stories whilst learning tips taught to them by their grandmothers. I'm now working on a jumper for Mark and looking forward to my next afternoon amongst the knits.

Literally Yours

This week saw us host the last of this years week long events and what a wonderful week it was! A group of writers, from six different countries, descended on Les Cerisiers to be guided through six days of embodied writing with the multi-talented Mandoline Whittlesey and poet-singer Sarah E Green. The event exceeded the expectations of all who attended and Mark and I were privileged to attend a beautiful evening of song and poetry. Mandoline kindly dedicated a poem to Les Cerisiers which I'd like to share with you here:

Les Cerisiers

five-leafed green

like an unsaying lip

the tip

of a horses' tail

courting flies under trees
the breeze
just touching
the water's skin
the soon-coming snow
it'll all rest in.

To keep with the literary theme I was fortunate enough to cross paths with Alastair Vere Nicoll, author of Riding the Ice Winds, earlier this year. Alastair truly exemplifies where following your dreams - in his case across Antartica with sledges and kites, can lead. His book is both adventure story and a more personal journey as he is driven to cross this vast continent in time to be present at the birth of his first child. Honest and moving, both Mark and I enjoyed the book for different reasons, read it and let us know your responses. Alastair kindly agreed to an interview which I hope you'll enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed conducting.
the really big dream company: At the beginning of ‘Riding the Ice Wind’ you quote George Bernard Shaw
‘Life is not about finding yourself: it is about creating yourself’ Who, as a result of this adventure, is AVN?

Alastair Vere Nicoll: I think and hope that I’m still in construction. One of themes of the book is that once an undertaking is accomplished, life continues and the same challenges are still faced - in different ways - and so you have to continue working at becoming the person that you want to be. In that sense life is a journey – a journey to becoming you (and sometimes in the other direction). The evolution is scary but it’s also exciting as it means there’s always something ahead.

trbdc: One of life’s eternal struggles, and one that you faced frequently throughout your book, seems to be between the ‘shoulds’ and the ‘wants’. What words of wisdom would you offer to anyone who knew what they wanted to do but were constrained by doing what they felt they should do?

AVN: I always struggle to give advice. All I can say is what I experienced and allow people to decide if it resonates as everyone’s circumstances are different. I certainly don’t have it right.

The platitude is that you ‘should’ enact your dreams to make them real but the reality is much more complicated. Certain responsibilities can’t be shirked. We make promises in life and some of the richest decisions we make come from self-sacrifice and patience – particularly around rewarding relationships – and to do what you want without considering the consequences may actually be self-defeating. Having said that, to continually sublimate your deepest desires is a form of martyrdom that is equally unsatisfying. The best thing for me is to confront, articulate and share what I ‘want’ and then strategise to achieve it to try to have the minimum effect on the ‘shoulds’. I’m not afraid of a circuitous route. Long term goals and plans, provided they are being actioned a step at a time - and not held as a mere pipe dream – are ok. It sounds abit trite but I’m a fan of writing down and sharing your 5yr, 10yr and whole of life plans with the key impacted parties.

trbdc: There is a marvellous moment where you describe an ‘instant(s) of magical intensity that make life worthwhile (and) wondered if I’d invoke this memory to inspire me at times in the future when I needed to draw strength from the memory of an uplifting experience’. Have you recalled this moment since? Does it work?

AVN: You asking the question has made me recall it - which I’ve enjoyed.

I’m afraid the response is a little like a sequence of Russian dolls, as the key difficulty is having the mental dexterity and the space and time in your life to remember to remember those moments! I’m not a meditator but I suspect that some of the benefits derived from meditating is to give yourself space to focus and recall these incredible moments that life has to offer which can be too rare among the drudgery.

A legitimate goal is to seek to populate one’s life with as many of those uplifting moments as you can, however the irony is that when you look you don’t find – the moments just arrive unexpectedly, like a flower out of waste.

Trbdc: You talk about getting out of a rut by feeling ‘compelled to dangle every so often by a thin chord above a raging torrent – literally and metaphorically’.
Are you dangling by ‘a thin chord above any raging torrents – literally (or) metaphorically’ at the moment or do you plan to do so in the near future?

AVN: Yes! But not in a way that I had anticipated. I started a business nearly four years ago (and the last few years has been an interesting time for a start up....) building renewable energy plants in emerging markets (– including small run-of-river hydros in the Himalayas, so I guess you could say I’m literally chasing the raging torrent) but it has thrown up, and continues to throw up, some moments when I have to check the chord is properly fastened....

Trbdc: Through the book you explore notions of reality and finding our true selves rather than living in a world where ‘we are being increasingly alienated from our original selves’. Have you any tips for living a more authentic life?

AVN: I’m not there yet – I should be getting tips rather than giving.

I struggle with getting balance as I can get too tied up in new projects which means I’m living in the ‘never-never’, the ‘one-day-maybe’ world too much rather than actually living: another theme of my book. I think projects and plans are utterly essential and unless you really commit to them they don’t happen but John Lennon’s position on life and plans is wholly true and you have to remember to spare some time for just being and that generally means simplifying and deriving enjoyment from the little interactions. I remember recently being impressed by a Barista who served coffee with a huge smile on his face and it was infectious and it made me want to smile more. Doing anything calmly, with friendliness and stopping to engage and observe delivers an authentic life without being defined by physical achievement.

Trbdc: What does the phrase ‘follow your dream’ mean to you?

AVN: A dream needn’t be one thing, it can be just be being who and what you want to be rather than achieving a particular goal. Achieving a goal leaves an emptiness after it. You’re continually pursuing and never in possession. Even the phrase ‘follow your dream’ suggests perpetual unfulfillment, like a hare chasing a stuffed rabbit that it never catches. Perhaps it should be ‘leading your dream’: positively inventing what you want to do (and that’s yours not someone else’s for you), creating yourself in a way that means you can fulfil it and then actively taking it on and making it happen, like a leader not a passive follower. As I’m motivated by challenges, the truest challenge for me is enjoying the journey and all the little moments along the way not just the instant, the ‘orgasm’, of accomplishment.... and of course the dreaming itself can be fun.

Trbdc: What are the elements of your perfect day?

AVN: I could get truly absurd for the really perfect day so I’ll restrict to the perfect normal day; it would be made up of each of the following in no particular order. It all sounds a bit twee but I think right (for me)...;

• Some exercise – it makes me feel alive, healthy and unstressed and allows me to truly indulge the bullet below
• Incredible but simple food – I’m an unashamed glutton and love meal times both for the food for the conviviality and it’s a time I most associate with family
• A moment of nature – for me an incredible, sparse immense panorama is the most uplifting – but it could be as simple as five minutes in a nook in the garden with a coffee just seeing something beautiful
• A moment of love or fellowship – a greeting from a child that’s missed you, a hug, a shared moment
• Indulging the mind – reading a book, watching a good film, reading an interesting article, having an original thought that strikes a chord, accomplishing some difficult work satisfactorily.

If you would like to find out more, visit http://www.ridingtheicewind.com/

Spurred on by Alastairs words, I think I'll take my coffee into the garden and immerse myself in the immense panorama of my setting.

Quilts, pots and funky nests

The summer holidays are over (boo) and we're now back into running creative holidays and retreats (hurray) here at les Cerisiers. We had a smashing group of ladies staying here last week who had come to celebrate 5 years of walking together. Before them, another group, tutored by the brilliant Christine Porter, came to quilt. From beginners to seasoned quilters, they all found something to inspire them and the skill and colour were simply amazing.

This week sees Malcolm Jarvis sharing his talents with enthusiastic pastel artists. We'll be out and about, weather permitting, taking in the views in this workshop entitled 'From Village to Vineyard'. I'll post some of the emerging art later in the week.

I actually had a weekend off last week so headed down to Lyon for the annual Potters Fair. 140 stalls displayed some quite extraordinary work mostly from France but also from further afield. I treated myself to a little crystal glazed piece and picked up a couple of early Christmas pressies. Thankfully I travelled by train and was restricted by what I could carry, otherwise I think the bank balance may have taken a real bashing.

On Sunday I was reminded (as if I could ever forget) how skilled and artistic nature can be too. Whilst hacking back one of our vines that threatened to completely engulf one of the out-buildings, I found a small birds nest that had incorporated a grape within its walls. Beautiful - or perhaps the birds were just hoping to have wine on tap!