. . . just outside the door, a bed of lavender and a canopy of grapes . . .
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Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Thursday, July 23, 2009
walking to Montpezat
.
Our 6 km walk on Thursday to the medieval village of Montpezat-de-Quercy took us past fields of giant upright sunflowers turning their faces to follow the sun and French farmhouses drowsing in the middle of rolling sunny fields, cooling behind their blue window shutters. We enjoyed another blue-sky day in a week of wonderful weather. The narrow country road wound about, with quite a bit of uphill, not so much downhill
to compensate, and not much room for both us and the occasional passing car. Where trees lined the road, there were signs posted usually saying "reserved for deer hunting" (a highly-regarded rich-in-tradition French sport), and once I noticed a sign indicating an area reserved for truffle hunting.
Montpezat is a protected historic city, due primarily to its remaining 14th-century college and chapel, where the apse is filled with a long 16th-century tapestry relating the 13 temptations and miracles in the life of St Martin. The tapestry hangs unprotected except by the dark, so after depositing our 2 euros to turn on the dim lights, we were rewarded with a close-up view of the intricately woven designs and remarkably well-preserved colors. Our guide related the various temptations, pointing out the devil in many panels, along with the "scribe" who inserted himself often, too, identifiable in his black hat.
After a refreshing picnic in a small park next to the priest's house (the old priest is retiring and will be the last), we continued our weaving lesson with a visit to the village studio of a retired but still active weaver, Janine Dassonval. She is one of the last remaining practitioners of le basse lice or low-warp horizontal weaving in France. During her career, she told us, she collaborated with French artists like Jean Cocteau, Jean Lurçat, Commère et Volti to transform their paintings into tapestries. Three years older than I, sitting upright at her large floor loom which she warps and wefts herself, Mme Dassonval explained why it can take her over 2000 hours to hand weave and cross over the wool threads to blend a beautiful wall hanging, plus another 200 hours to tie off the loose threads on the back. Her current project is an Aubusson-style tapestry full of soft blues, greens, and earth tones, proceeding from a color enlargement and her drawn cartoon slipped under the threads for placement.
.
Our 6 km walk on Thursday to the medieval village of Montpezat-de-Quercy took us past fields of giant upright sunflowers turning their faces to follow the sun and French farmhouses drowsing in the middle of rolling sunny fields, cooling behind their blue window shutters. We enjoyed another blue-sky day in a week of wonderful weather. The narrow country road wound about, with quite a bit of uphill, not so much downhill
to compensate, and not much room for both us and the occasional passing car. Where trees lined the road, there were signs posted usually saying "reserved for deer hunting" (a highly-regarded rich-in-tradition French sport), and once I noticed a sign indicating an area reserved for truffle hunting.
Montpezat is a protected historic city, due primarily to its remaining 14th-century college and chapel, where the apse is filled with a long 16th-century tapestry relating the 13 temptations and miracles in the life of St Martin. The tapestry hangs unprotected except by the dark, so after depositing our 2 euros to turn on the dim lights, we were rewarded with a close-up view of the intricately woven designs and remarkably well-preserved colors. Our guide related the various temptations, pointing out the devil in many panels, along with the "scribe" who inserted himself often, too, identifiable in his black hat.
. . . taking photos of the chapel on the ramp down from the priest's home . . .
After a refreshing picnic in a small park next to the priest's house (the old priest is retiring and will be the last), we continued our weaving lesson with a visit to the village studio of a retired but still active weaver, Janine Dassonval. She is one of the last remaining practitioners of le basse lice or low-warp horizontal weaving in France. During her career, she told us, she collaborated with French artists like Jean Cocteau, Jean Lurçat, Commère et Volti to transform their paintings into tapestries. Three years older than I, sitting upright at her large floor loom which she warps and wefts herself, Mme Dassonval explained why it can take her over 2000 hours to hand weave and cross over the wool threads to blend a beautiful wall hanging, plus another 200 hours to tie off the loose threads on the back. Her current project is an Aubusson-style tapestry full of soft blues, greens, and earth tones, proceeding from a color enlargement and her drawn cartoon slipped under the threads for placement.
.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
woad wednesday
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On Wednesday we learned about woad, an ancient blue pigment taken laboriously from the leaves of a local plant. Before indigo changed the market, woad blue was the only blue dye available, the "blue blood" dye of the royals, making the medieval Counts of Toulouse wealthy men and Toulouse, the city they built, a center for dyeing textiles. Only the leaves of the first year's growth yield dye, which makes the plant a weed when it grows wild. After a lengthy extraction process, the dye first turns fabrics yellow, then green, then blue as it oxidizes with exposure to air, all of which made woad dyeing changeable and almost magical.
Dr Denise Lambert, our modern-day woad master, mixed up the woad dye bath in a clearing in Lizzie's woods early in the morning. Soon we were transforming our flea market finds, linen cloths, pieces of lace, hanks of yarn and even straw hats. With Denise's instruction, we all took turns dipping the fabric into the dye bath, poling it down into the vat, wringing it out and watching it turn its colors, then hanging it on the lines to dry. For a deeper blue, we repeated the process. The lines were filled and refilled with various glorious deepening blues as they glowed against the green forest.
On Wednesday we learned about woad, an ancient blue pigment taken laboriously from the leaves of a local plant. Before indigo changed the market, woad blue was the only blue dye available, the "blue blood" dye of the royals, making the medieval Counts of Toulouse wealthy men and Toulouse, the city they built, a center for dyeing textiles. Only the leaves of the first year's growth yield dye, which makes the plant a weed when it grows wild. After a lengthy extraction process, the dye first turns fabrics yellow, then green, then blue as it oxidizes with exposure to air, all of which made woad dyeing changeable and almost magical.
Dr Denise Lambert, our modern-day woad master, mixed up the woad dye bath in a clearing in Lizzie's woods early in the morning. Soon we were transforming our flea market finds, linen cloths, pieces of lace, hanks of yarn and even straw hats. With Denise's instruction, we all took turns dipping the fabric into the dye bath, poling it down into the vat, wringing it out and watching it turn its colors, then hanging it on the lines to dry. For a deeper blue, we repeated the process. The lines were filled and refilled with various glorious deepening blues as they glowed against the green forest.
Above, Lisa's tie-dye shirt for one of her twins, one of the stamped cloths we made in Rowena's studio, Kaari's embroidered trim, my one flea market sleeve (to be used in an altered project).
In the center, an embroidered tablecloth I couldn't resist turning blue.
In the center, an embroidered tablecloth I couldn't resist turning blue.
One interesting side note: The leftover woad dye baths, when the color wore thin, were used to dye the local medieval farm shutters and doors, not just for the lovely color, but because the leaves are a natural preservative and pesticide that treated the wood.
Post note: Drs. Denise and Henri Lambert have an interesting story of researching the blue color they found on an 18th-century find at a flea market, collaborating for years with chemists at U de Toulouse, finding by chance at another flea market the diary of Napoleon's chemist, and spending more years working to revive this craft and finding their niche in preparing haute couture fabrics. In Lectoure you can visit their workshop and gallery. He even drives a woad-dyed Jaguar. AND -- Kaari and Lizzie are planning another week at the Chateau next summer, I think. Lizzie already bought her own large tub for the woad dye bath, and I'm sure she's planning on offering woad day again. So keep checking Kaari's blog.
.Post note: Drs. Denise and Henri Lambert have an interesting story of researching the blue color they found on an 18th-century find at a flea market, collaborating for years with chemists at U de Toulouse, finding by chance at another flea market the diary of Napoleon's chemist, and spending more years working to revive this craft and finding their niche in preparing haute couture fabrics. In Lectoure you can visit their workshop and gallery. He even drives a woad-dyed Jaguar. AND -- Kaari and Lizzie are planning another week at the Chateau next summer, I think. Lizzie already bought her own large tub for the woad dye bath, and I'm sure she's planning on offering woad day again. So keep checking Kaari's blog.
phone doodling with copics
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While I was on the phone today having a nice long cross-country chat with a good friend, I did a little doodling in my journal. I had seen the word "Wonder" beautifully scripted on a page on Pam Garrison's blog, so I doodled a version of it, along with some reminders of the wonders of southern France. Some handy scraps of paper added a little texture, but after I penned the words "blue skies," I realized I didn't have any blue Copic markers among my meager handful. These fun Copic markers are so brightly colored (on the thick white cardstock I used) that maybe I'll switch to a wash of pale blue ink before I finish? Then I need to go shopping for more Copics.
What do you do when you're on the phone?
.
While I was on the phone today having a nice long cross-country chat with a good friend, I did a little doodling in my journal. I had seen the word "Wonder" beautifully scripted on a page on Pam Garrison's blog, so I doodled a version of it, along with some reminders of the wonders of southern France. Some handy scraps of paper added a little texture, but after I penned the words "blue skies," I realized I didn't have any blue Copic markers among my meager handful. These fun Copic markers are so brightly colored (on the thick white cardstock I used) that maybe I'll switch to a wash of pale blue ink before I finish? Then I need to go shopping for more Copics.
What do you do when you're on the phone?
.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
old stonework
.
It's true, I have a fascination for old stone. Including stone walls, windows and stairs, like this stairway outside an old building in Cordes sur Ciel. Isn't it beautiful?
.
It's true, I have a fascination for old stone. Including stone walls, windows and stairs, like this stairway outside an old building in Cordes sur Ciel. Isn't it beautiful?
.
Monday, July 20, 2009
medieval city of cordes sur ciel
.
On our fourth day at the Chateau, we trekked to the nearby medieval city Cordes sur Ciel, perched high on a rocky promontory that allowed its fortified long view of the surrounding valleys. Sometimes it even has its head literally in the clouds. Built in 1222 by the Count of Toulouse, a Cathar heretic, and with many 13th and 14th gothic homes still preserved inside the fortified walls, the town of Cordes ("rocky heights") was renamed in 1993 to reflect its romantic appeal to artists and tourists. On our walk uphill, we visited the printing studio of textile artist Rowena Maybourne, tucked in a narrow 13th-century house with her main studio up the winding stairs on the 3rd floor.
For atmosphere, here are some of my photos from our uphill walk on narrow worn cobblestone streets to the town center at the top -- flowers blooming everywhere, wonderful juxtaposed textures of old stone and weathered wood, ubiquitous shuttered windows. The vivid blue sky was somehow, unfortunately, too ethereal for my camera. But if you visit my new friend Cathy Mogull's blog, you'll see some great photos there of the whole week.
Finally, up to the town center inside the town's walls, where our sculpted greeter waited just outside one of the main gates. By appointment, we ate lunch in a restaurant specializing in a medieval menu, quite tasty, served with spoon and knife only, no devil's fork. Then a little shopping was followed by the trek back down the hill.
Old sewing machines lined up in the leather shop where Cathy bought her soft green suede boots.
Flowers carved from wood, then perfumed, were light enough for me to buy a big bouquet to fill a glass urn at home.
Leaving town, we stopped at a couple more small antique shops, where I noticed this old brocante wagon waiting its revival.
.
On our fourth day at the Chateau, we trekked to the nearby medieval city Cordes sur Ciel, perched high on a rocky promontory that allowed its fortified long view of the surrounding valleys. Sometimes it even has its head literally in the clouds. Built in 1222 by the Count of Toulouse, a Cathar heretic, and with many 13th and 14th gothic homes still preserved inside the fortified walls, the town of Cordes ("rocky heights") was renamed in 1993 to reflect its romantic appeal to artists and tourists. On our walk uphill, we visited the printing studio of textile artist Rowena Maybourne, tucked in a narrow 13th-century house with her main studio up the winding stairs on the 3rd floor.
For atmosphere, here are some of my photos from our uphill walk on narrow worn cobblestone streets to the town center at the top -- flowers blooming everywhere, wonderful juxtaposed textures of old stone and weathered wood, ubiquitous shuttered windows. The vivid blue sky was somehow, unfortunately, too ethereal for my camera. But if you visit my new friend Cathy Mogull's blog, you'll see some great photos there of the whole week.
Even where stone wall meets stone walk, there's usually a bit of flowering garden.
Finally, up to the town center inside the town's walls, where our sculpted greeter waited just outside one of the main gates. By appointment, we ate lunch in a restaurant specializing in a medieval menu, quite tasty, served with spoon and knife only, no devil's fork. Then a little shopping was followed by the trek back down the hill.
Old sewing machines lined up in the leather shop where Cathy bought her soft green suede boots.
Flowers carved from wood, then perfumed, were light enough for me to buy a big bouquet to fill a glass urn at home.
Leaving town, we stopped at a couple more small antique shops, where I noticed this old brocante wagon waiting its revival..
Friday, July 17, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
craft day in the chateau studio
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Greeting us in our rooms on arrival was our own cheery French General craft bag, sewn from Kaari's new Rouenneries fabric line for Moda. Inside were several smaller kit bags, the longstanding French General jewelry tool kit, and a needle book from Moda.
After Monday's leisurely breakfast, we gathered in Lizzie's reconstructed craft room up the narrow railinged staircase among the rafters over the barn. Our first craft session with Kaari was a lesson in needle felting, using dyed alpaca wools.
Greeting us in our rooms on arrival was our own cheery French General craft bag, sewn from Kaari's new Rouenneries fabric line for Moda. Inside were several smaller kit bags, the longstanding French General jewelry tool kit, and a needle book from Moda.
After Monday's leisurely breakfast, we gathered in Lizzie's reconstructed craft room up the narrow railinged staircase among the rafters over the barn. Our first craft session with Kaari was a lesson in needle felting, using dyed alpaca wools.
Photo by Cathy Mogull
Many of the ladies made sweet little felted animals. Sitting across from me, Megan made a bumblebee complete with wings, while I made a striped heart. Lizzie had also hired two masseuses to give massages throughout the day, so one by one the ladies interrupted their craft sessions to go be pampered.
We also laid out our supplies to start putting together the necklace and bracelet kits from Kaari's bag. The studio remained open for us to come and go, working on our crafts as we had time, even after dinner if we could muster the energy.
Later in the afternoon we headed off to Septfonds for a tour of Chapeau Willy's, a small local hat factory and one of the oldest in the area. In spite of its age, we couldn't see evidence of old millinery supplies, so we asked. Isabella, the 6th-generation family owner, told us her sad tale of a burglary followed by a fire that destroyed fingerprints and almost all the old inventory.
As we gathered around her, a woman who had worked in the hat factory for over 40 years nimbly machine-stitched together strips of straw braid to make the factory's specialty, the braided straw hat. Most of the machinery, both sewing machines and hat-pressing molds, were fairly old, a few newer machines sitting idly by and critiqued as unequal to the task.
Cathy spotted this straw beauty, one of the few remaining older hats hung on the factory wall. Since Isabella could not part with it, Cathy decided to have a similar one made. After choosing the width and color of straw braid, she found some rosy vintage-looking flowers high on a shelf plus chocolate grosgrain for the rim, and ordered the molded shape she wanted, all to be done by the end of the week.
After another full day, dinner on the veranda was followed by a local wine and cheese tasting, presented in French by a local sommelier. Lizzie translated while we sampled fig and nut breads, soft cheeses, goat cheeses, and red and white wines, all specialties of the neighboring areas. Dusk enveloped us after 10 pm, but we lingered on.
.
We also laid out our supplies to start putting together the necklace and bracelet kits from Kaari's bag. The studio remained open for us to come and go, working on our crafts as we had time, even after dinner if we could muster the energy.
Later in the afternoon we headed off to Septfonds for a tour of Chapeau Willy's, a small local hat factory and one of the oldest in the area. In spite of its age, we couldn't see evidence of old millinery supplies, so we asked. Isabella, the 6th-generation family owner, told us her sad tale of a burglary followed by a fire that destroyed fingerprints and almost all the old inventory.
As we gathered around her, a woman who had worked in the hat factory for over 40 years nimbly machine-stitched together strips of straw braid to make the factory's specialty, the braided straw hat. Most of the machinery, both sewing machines and hat-pressing molds, were fairly old, a few newer machines sitting idly by and critiqued as unequal to the task.
Cathy spotted this straw beauty, one of the few remaining older hats hung on the factory wall. Since Isabella could not part with it, Cathy decided to have a similar one made. After choosing the width and color of straw braid, she found some rosy vintage-looking flowers high on a shelf plus chocolate grosgrain for the rim, and ordered the molded shape she wanted, all to be done by the end of the week.
After another full day, dinner on the veranda was followed by a local wine and cheese tasting, presented in French by a local sommelier. Lizzie translated while we sampled fig and nut breads, soft cheeses, goat cheeses, and red and white wines, all specialties of the neighboring areas. Dusk enveloped us after 10 pm, but we lingered on.
.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
sunday afternoon brocante in toulouse
.
Sunday afternoon we sped along curving roads and through numerous traffic circles to the monthly Toulouse flea market, about an hour southeast of the Chateau. Arranged in a long loop, with vendors lined up both sides of each aisle, the brocante offered tons of stuff to sort through. The vendors seemed to know each other and were enjoying the weekend company, visiting back and forth, calling on a friend for help in translation. We wondered whether the slowing economy had also affected their sales. They were certainly happy to see our group ambling through the booths. Necessity being the mother instigator, I found that my rusty French was creaking back into usable phrases. By the end of the afternoon, I was engaged with a toothless vendor in a lengthy discussion on how to care for my newly-purchased large embroidered linen sheet, most of which I understood, I think.
My favorite booth may have been this one with stacks of embroidered convent linens on and under the tables. However, since we all seemed to converge on this vendor at the same time, asking how much for this and how much for that, she apparently felt overwhelmed and scuttled away. Later, on my second loop, I made my small purchase of napkins embroidered with the initial P.
As we neared the end of one side of the loop and were just about pooped from the heat, there was a counter selling sausage, frites, and drinks. Kaari, Molly, Kick, Cathy and I took advantage of the respite to regroup. But as soon as we finished our frites and started down the second aisle, I was diverted again by an old lithograph in an ornate frame sized just right for my larger suitcase. Luckily for me, Molly was ferrying our mounting purchases back to her car. Toward the end of the afternoon, we gathered in a nearby park for a picnic, sitting on Sandy's newly purchased linen sheet spread out on the grass.
After another delicious dinner by MamaJo back at the Chateau, we shared our brocante finds and our stories of bargaining for le bon prix.
Cheryl, Moda's design director who is collaborating with Kaari on her new French General line of fabrics, happily showed off her linen torchons and fabrics.
Sandy, a senior designer for Moda, found a vintage painting on canvas to roll up and take home to her studio for inspiration.
And above is the large embroidered linen sheet I bargained down to almost half price, with Kaari and Lizzie helping to unfold and examine it on the verandah. Plus a sampling of other treasures of the day below.
.
Sunday afternoon we sped along curving roads and through numerous traffic circles to the monthly Toulouse flea market, about an hour southeast of the Chateau. Arranged in a long loop, with vendors lined up both sides of each aisle, the brocante offered tons of stuff to sort through. The vendors seemed to know each other and were enjoying the weekend company, visiting back and forth, calling on a friend for help in translation. We wondered whether the slowing economy had also affected their sales. They were certainly happy to see our group ambling through the booths. Necessity being the mother instigator, I found that my rusty French was creaking back into usable phrases. By the end of the afternoon, I was engaged with a toothless vendor in a lengthy discussion on how to care for my newly-purchased large embroidered linen sheet, most of which I understood, I think.
My favorite booth may have been this one with stacks of embroidered convent linens on and under the tables. However, since we all seemed to converge on this vendor at the same time, asking how much for this and how much for that, she apparently felt overwhelmed and scuttled away. Later, on my second loop, I made my small purchase of napkins embroidered with the initial P.
Kaari's sister Molly, Kaari Meng, Kaari's mother Kick
As we neared the end of one side of the loop and were just about pooped from the heat, there was a counter selling sausage, frites, and drinks. Kaari, Molly, Kick, Cathy and I took advantage of the respite to regroup. But as soon as we finished our frites and started down the second aisle, I was diverted again by an old lithograph in an ornate frame sized just right for my larger suitcase. Luckily for me, Molly was ferrying our mounting purchases back to her car. Toward the end of the afternoon, we gathered in a nearby park for a picnic, sitting on Sandy's newly purchased linen sheet spread out on the grass.
Photo by Cathy Mogull
After another delicious dinner by MamaJo back at the Chateau, we shared our brocante finds and our stories of bargaining for le bon prix.
Cheryl, Moda's design director who is collaborating with Kaari on her new French General line of fabrics, happily showed off her linen torchons and fabrics.
Sandy, a senior designer for Moda, found a vintage painting on canvas to roll up and take home to her studio for inspiration.
Photo by Michelle Jorgensen
And above is the large embroidered linen sheet I bargained down to almost half price, with Kaari and Lizzie helping to unfold and examine it on the verandah. Plus a sampling of other treasures of the day below.
.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
sunday morning st antonin farmers' market
.
Early Sunday morning, after a Continental breakfast of croissants, fruit and yogurt, coffee and tea laid out in the cool-toned dining room and eaten outside on the shaded verandah, we boarded the mini-bus for the short drive to the weekly farmer's market at Saint Antonin Noble-Val. Vendors of fresh produce, baked breads, meats and sausages, spices, cheeses, assorted packaged foodstuffs plus clothing and knick-knacks lined the medieval streets winding away from the town center. Every display was enticingly laid out for choosing and occasionally for sampling.
This vendor so enjoyed using his English to cajole our friendly group of American women that we all were treated to free samples of his prized patés. While he had our rapt attention, he did a tidy business in patés, olive oils, and other plane-worthy comestibles.
Like many of the enduring old towns in southwestern France, Saint Antonin was subjected to the religious upheavals of Catholic, then Cathar, then Protestant influence, plus various incursions from northern kings. Nonetheless, its wealthy merchants left a marvelous heritage of medieval houses in all the streets leading out from the place de la Halle. Above the market booths as they wound along were these wonderful old facades with interesting stonework, especially around the windows with their colorful wooden shutters, plus the occasional gargoyle and church steeple. At every corner, narrow streets jutted off at crooked angles.
Not surprisingly, the old town was used as a location for the 2001 movie Charlotte Gray, starring Cate Blanchett.
After depositing our purchases back in the minibus, we were off to spend Sunday afternoon at the monthly flea market in Toulouse. But you've been patient enough with these morning photos (there are so many to choose from), so I'll be back. I hope you are enjoying the views with me.
.
Early Sunday morning, after a Continental breakfast of croissants, fruit and yogurt, coffee and tea laid out in the cool-toned dining room and eaten outside on the shaded verandah, we boarded the mini-bus for the short drive to the weekly farmer's market at Saint Antonin Noble-Val. Vendors of fresh produce, baked breads, meats and sausages, spices, cheeses, assorted packaged foodstuffs plus clothing and knick-knacks lined the medieval streets winding away from the town center. Every display was enticingly laid out for choosing and occasionally for sampling.
This vendor so enjoyed using his English to cajole our friendly group of American women that we all were treated to free samples of his prized patés. While he had our rapt attention, he did a tidy business in patés, olive oils, and other plane-worthy comestibles.
Like many of the enduring old towns in southwestern France, Saint Antonin was subjected to the religious upheavals of Catholic, then Cathar, then Protestant influence, plus various incursions from northern kings. Nonetheless, its wealthy merchants left a marvelous heritage of medieval houses in all the streets leading out from the place de la Halle. Above the market booths as they wound along were these wonderful old facades with interesting stonework, especially around the windows with their colorful wooden shutters, plus the occasional gargoyle and church steeple. At every corner, narrow streets jutted off at crooked angles.
Not surprisingly, the old town was used as a location for the 2001 movie Charlotte Gray, starring Cate Blanchett.
After depositing our purchases back in the minibus, we were off to spend Sunday afternoon at the monthly flea market in Toulouse. But you've been patient enough with these morning photos (there are so many to choose from), so I'll be back. I hope you are enjoying the views with me.
.
Monday, July 13, 2009
postcards from Auty
.
Now that I'm home from my vacation and workshop sojourn in France, I have a few photos to share. After spending the first part of a relaxing week casually strolling the parks of Paris with my husband, on Saturday I flew on to Toulouse while he continued his journey to Kuwait. At the Toulouse/Bagnac airport, I joined the lovely group of 14 women from around the States who were spending the next week together (July 4-11) at the first French General Chateau Getaway with Kaari Meng. Once we all packed our suitcases into the mini bus, we headed off through the countryside in the southwest of France to Auty. Our bus driver was in full Tour de France mode as he sped and careened along the narrow curving roads, but the scenery was beautiful.
Chateau Dumas is in the rolling fields of Auty, about an hour's drive northeast from Toulouse. Chateau owner Lizzie Hulme welcomed us with cooling drinks and then showed us our rooms before dinner outside on the veranda, overlooking the chateau grounds. My light-filled room on the third floor included a sweeping view of neighboring farms and a reservoir in the distance. Fields of sunflowers stretched in all directions.
Although the original Chateau was destroyed during the French Revolution (a sad tale we heard over and over as we toured the region), it was rebuilt during the 19th century. As the story goes, the Baron who owned the Chateau was a card enthusiast who continually gambled away the local farms he owned. His wife would then repurchase them during the following days.
Our delicious dinner, and most of the meals to come, was prepared by MamaJo, Lizzie's mum and a former British university professor, who kept us fortified with her cookbook-worthy specialties, lots of fresh produce from the region, and plenty of local wine. In anticipation of a full Sunday with trips to two markets, we headed (relatively) early to bed. In following posts, I'll try to recap each day for you.
P.S. I forgot to mention how this Saturday started. Since my husband and I were leaving at different times from the Charles de Gaulle airport, I was there quite a bit earlier than my flight to Toulouse. As I was reading in the gate area surrounded by sunny windows, a wedding party arrived for a different flight -- charming chattering happy people dressed for a summer wedding, some with long dress bags to hang on the nearby kiosks. Then the treats arrived. Armloads of pastel Ladurée bags were passed out to each member of the wedding party. Not one person could resist unwrapping the beautiful boxes inside and eating the delicately colored macaroons on the spot.
.
Now that I'm home from my vacation and workshop sojourn in France, I have a few photos to share. After spending the first part of a relaxing week casually strolling the parks of Paris with my husband, on Saturday I flew on to Toulouse while he continued his journey to Kuwait. At the Toulouse/Bagnac airport, I joined the lovely group of 14 women from around the States who were spending the next week together (July 4-11) at the first French General Chateau Getaway with Kaari Meng. Once we all packed our suitcases into the mini bus, we headed off through the countryside in the southwest of France to Auty. Our bus driver was in full Tour de France mode as he sped and careened along the narrow curving roads, but the scenery was beautiful.
Chateau Dumas is in the rolling fields of Auty, about an hour's drive northeast from Toulouse. Chateau owner Lizzie Hulme welcomed us with cooling drinks and then showed us our rooms before dinner outside on the veranda, overlooking the chateau grounds. My light-filled room on the third floor included a sweeping view of neighboring farms and a reservoir in the distance. Fields of sunflowers stretched in all directions.
Although the original Chateau was destroyed during the French Revolution (a sad tale we heard over and over as we toured the region), it was rebuilt during the 19th century. As the story goes, the Baron who owned the Chateau was a card enthusiast who continually gambled away the local farms he owned. His wife would then repurchase them during the following days.
Our delicious dinner, and most of the meals to come, was prepared by MamaJo, Lizzie's mum and a former British university professor, who kept us fortified with her cookbook-worthy specialties, lots of fresh produce from the region, and plenty of local wine. In anticipation of a full Sunday with trips to two markets, we headed (relatively) early to bed. In following posts, I'll try to recap each day for you.
P.S. I forgot to mention how this Saturday started. Since my husband and I were leaving at different times from the Charles de Gaulle airport, I was there quite a bit earlier than my flight to Toulouse. As I was reading in the gate area surrounded by sunny windows, a wedding party arrived for a different flight -- charming chattering happy people dressed for a summer wedding, some with long dress bags to hang on the nearby kiosks. Then the treats arrived. Armloads of pastel Ladurée bags were passed out to each member of the wedding party. Not one person could resist unwrapping the beautiful boxes inside and eating the delicately colored macaroons on the spot.
.
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