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Rub a dub dub, three men in a tub - odd sights in the abbey, and fun at the village fair

9/21/2022

Stained glass window featuring St. Nicolas in the abbey

A bit of whimsy, legend, and rhyme to start. In a corner of Lonlay's ancient abbey that I had not noticed before, I was startled to see three men in a tub sitting at the feet of St. Nicolas! What could be the meaning of this?

We all know a variation of the old English rhyme, that usually goes like this:

Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub,
And who do you think they be?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker,
And all put out to sea.

But according to most academics, the original rhyme dates back to the 14th century, and referred to three "maids" in a tub:

Hey! rub-a-dub, ho! rub-a-dub, three maids in a tub,
And who do you think were there?
The butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker,
And all of them gone to the fair.

This version makes sense historically because evidently, in medieval times, the fairs sometimes had "peep shows" where men could view naked women in a tub! The inclusion of the three varied professions of these men suggests that everyone and his brother was partaking of such entertainment.

But this abbey vitrine does seem to have males in that tub ... and St. Nicolas? Surely not a peep show kind of guy. So, back to Google...

Nicolas was a real person who lived roughly between the years 270 to 343. He must have had a very strong and holy presence, as many miracles were attributed to him, and for centuries after his death, people were squabbling over his bones, moving them from one city to another.

An early Christian bishop from an area (Myra) that is now part of modern-day Turkey, Nicolas came from a well-to-do family, but gave away his wealth. One possibly true story about him was that he surreptitiously provided three purses of gold to an impoverished merchant by dropping them into his window (not the chimney!) over three successive nights. He did this to provide dowries for the man's three daughters, so that they did not have to become prostitutes.

A second story that is likely true is that bishop Nicolas once intervened to prevent the execution of three innocent men. That incident appears to have been retold throughout the Middle Ages, but enhanced many times over through drama and exaggeration. The most popular version of this story tells of a conniving butcher who killed three boys and put their remains in a pickling tub. St. Nicolas was said to have demanded the contents of the tub, and to have brought the three boys back to life!

So impressive and vivid was this tale of a miracle, and so well-travelled, that apparently there are representations of St. Nicolas and the boys in the tub to be found all over Europe in tapestries, paintings, sculptures - and in stained glass. So now you know.

From Wikipedia - Illustration of Saint Nicolas resurrecting the three butchered children.
From the "Grandes Heures d'Anne de Bretagne" (created between 1503 and 1508).

Now, let's go back into the abbey at Lonlay

We lit a candle in a corner of the abbey in this granite well, then took photos of the animals and people we found hiding in the corners of the side chapels. I can't really say what they all are meant to represent.

A gnome?

A cat?

Woman's face in a wimple?

This one above is said to be a bat.

A serene lady with frog faces circling underneath?

One wonders how much some of these fantastical creatures in the capitals may have been altered by poor restorations, by WW II bombs or other damage. The identity of so many seems unclear to me.

A woman, possibly the Virgin Mary, atop a beast, and reaching out to a frog person/alien

This one is my very favorite so far. A small human sculpting hand, like that of a potter or sculptor, delicately and humbly adding to a creation above a brooding animal face.

An Aztec or Mayan style head over a capital ringed with alien or frog faces. Curiously, this same type of head is repeated outside the abbey...

...in a cubby surrounded by some of the oldest arches, and

...then in a larger form on the outside of the main building that now houses the mairie and doctor's offices. The source and style of sculpture of these heads remains a complete mystery to me.

Though the head on the outside of the abbey wall has teeth, I don't think it is meant to be a "tarasque," the medieval monster who devoured people, as most of the heads inside the abbey are benign.

The tarasque of Montmajour Abbey near Arles - munching on a human in its 12th century cloister - (must see that someday). Photo from Wikipedia.

While it would be hard to outdo the gruesome tarasque of Montmajour, the Lonlay l'Abbaye abbey has its share of disturbing creatures, both in stone and in wood - like this eagle atop an oddly placed snake. One wonders what exactly its sculptor meant to say, and to whom.

Just outside, under the medieval arches, we found an ancient gate that immediately brought to mind the old English word "gaol," and a door that clearly had not been opened in a long time!

Entrance to the "gaol" or jail

Spidery door

But enough of the abbey, let's move on to the village fête!

Once a year, near the end of August, the village of Lonlay l'Abbaye traditionally opens its arms to all to celebrate the end of summer in a big way. In 2020 and 2021, the fête had to be cancelled because of Covid restrictions. That meant that our 2022 festival was long anticipated and desired by all the people in the surrounding villages, as well as by the inhabitants of Lonlay.

Our good friend Ashami (Pipkin's favorite person) came down from Paris specifically to enjoy the fair with us and the next day's vide-grenier. We all had a great time!

On Saturday the kiddie rides and carnival games were set up, along with a big bouncy house near the Mairie.

The stuff of dreams for little ones

There were sausages and crêpes on offer, and a stand selling wine and beer. A local band set up and provided upbeat music into the night.

We were quite impressed with how the carnival organizers were able to roll huge container trucks into the small village. Each opened up into a ride, an arcade, or a fully operational electronic game center. This must be a big business in rural France.

The festivities and fun lasted into the night. Once darkness fell, close to 10:00 pm, the fire department and its band led the children with paper lanterns through the village streets. We adult participants followed them to the village green, where we saw a spectacular fireworks show!

Just after daybreak the next morning, we began to hear people driving in to set up their tables at their assigned numbered locations all through the streets and squares of the village. Exceptionally, the bakery and bar/tabac were open all day that Sunday, and the Relais, our village restaurant, began serving tripe at 8:00 am. (We passed on that).

The vide-grenier is like a huge rummage sale. There were hundreds of people selling items and hundreds, maybe thousands more strolling among the tables, bargaining and buying in the village green, the square in front of our house, the field behind the abbey, a parking lot across from the market, and in every corner that was not already taken by the fairground equipment.

Joseph joked that it seemed likely that those who bought items one year would be selling them back to their neighbors at the vide-grenier the next year!

Most of the tables were selling gently used toys, household goods, sports and gardening equipment, but there were a few booths selling new items and handmade crafts as well.

The beverages bar continued to do brisk business throughout Sunday, quenching the thirst of the bargain hunters, while the rides and games, sausages and crêpes continued for the families until it was nearly dark again. The weather was perfect throughout, and the two-day festival was a grand success.

The next few days were very quiet in the village, like the calm after a storm. The folks who had had their goods for sale packed everything up, each speck of debris was cleaned and collected, the carnival trucks folded their sides and lumbered off. A happy exhaustion set in. We visited with some of the villagers we know, and enjoyed the peace and quiet.

The charming family that runs the Relais reopened with their regular menu - sans tripe. We were pleased to be able to go back several times and to enjoy their outdoor terrace while the good weather held.

We forgot to take a photo of our delicious main courses (fish and steak), but after all, appetizers and dessert are what restaurants are really all about, right? The pannacotta with red fruit sauce was indescribably good!

We needed rain here in the north of France, and it was predicted for almost every day, but though the storm clouds came, they also went, without delivering much precipitation. The early evening skies were beautiful.

Meanwhile, back at our house, we were pleased as punch with some of the improvements that had been made while we had been away...

A small antique chandelier that I had "won" at auction in Paris's famous Drouot auction house for only 20 euros (but that cost over 200 euros to rewire!) was installed in the bedroom by our super French team.

The French detail team: Ruzdi and Jean-Luc

Hooks were installed on the wall near the front door to hold jackets, coats and bags.

Under the stairs, the once dreary and dusty brick "cave" was transformed with a new cement floor, wallboard and shelving into a perfect clean space to keep wine and other pantry items.

At our request, they mounted a fire extinguisher inside the door (right across from the mini kitchen) and placed hooks to hold Pipkin's leashes and harness.

Thanks to a birthday gift from my dear friend Michele, we have a wine rack in the little cave, and a handsome navy blue laundry basket that will hold a set of sheets as well as our regular washing.

We were finally able to get four dining chairs and a carpet for our main room, so we have almost everything we need here now. As wonderful as it is to always return to Paris, we are finding it harder to leave Lonlay l'Abbaye each time, as it feels so much like a cozy home.

And autumn is here already!

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Tout le Monde En vacances

8/7/2022

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Pip admires cattle in the field beyond the abbey - late July

Dry grass on the village green

Apple trees and dry grass

An ancient conifer and stone tables behind the Mairie

Late July and early August in Lonlay l'Abbaye was dry and relatively quiet. We were evading some very hot days predicted for Paris, and welcomed the milder temperatures and cloud cover that Normandy offered. Most days did not exceed 27 Celsius (about 81 Fahrenheit), and cooled off later at night.
The lack of recent rain was evident in the parched grasses and fields, but the village gardeners were keeping their glorious planters of flowers lush. And how special is this? It is as if someone were setting out bowls and vases of flowers all over your house every time you came home. A true "ville fleurie" - a city of flowers, loved and cared for, supported and encouraged, by each of its citizens.
Each morning, each evening, when I walk the cobbled streets of this small, yet miraculously flowered village with my ever-curious Pipkin, I am struck anew by the reverence of nature, the daily time-consuming effort to water and trim and care, and, as well, by the enduring commitment of the flinty 1300 hundred or so inhabitants who strive each day to preserve all that is good, all that is beautiful, all that is so unique and special about France - and I am moved.

Overcast days kept down the summer heat and prevented the watered flowers from burning up, even as some waterways slowed to a trickle.

We found ourselves in an in-between moment with regard to nearby entertainment. Had missed Tom Cruise in Top Gun - Maverick being shown at the village hall in early July, and we would not be staying for the Medieval Days in neighboring Domfront. Would have loved to attend both, but some things you can only find out about by staying local.

Homespun signs on the doors advised us of merchants' closing dates for their summer holidays. Fortunately, these small businesses that provide us with delicious food every time we visit were staggering their vacations.

We were able to have some wonderful lunches at the Relais de l'Abbaye before the owners took their August break. We said hello to the mayor there almost every day. He was wearing shorts and Hawaiian style shirts, visiting with locals in the front part of the restaurant, but we did not have a chance to speak with him ourselves this visit. A sign outside the Mairie indicated summer hours of half days.

The deli, Le Grenier à Sel, was open for just a few more days while we were there, so we bought out most of their spectacular cold salads before they closed near the end of July. Among others, the "piémontaise," a mayonnaise salad with potatoes, ham, cornichons, boiled eggs and tomatoes, is said to have Russian origins. They also make a coleslaw and a pickled beet salad that are both delectable.

Le Grenier à Sel delivery truck beside a Lonlay canal

Dates for closure by the local "traiteur" or deli shop, Le Grenier à Sel

No baker, no baguettes! Sign indicates the bakery's holiday closure dates.

The baker and his family were on holiday until the 9th of August. Bread being of historical importance, and no laughing matter in France (see "French Revolution 1789"), of course there were baguettes at the local supermarket to compensate for the closed bakery and the empty baguette machine.

The pizza TARDIS

The biggest revelation of our visit though, had to be the pizza machine that had suddenly appeared on the outskirts of the village next to the new butcher shop. Sitting like a little red TARDIS* just around the corner from the supermarket, it was a huge surprise to me. I was drawn to this contraption like a moth to the flame.

*You must Google it if you don't already know!

I was intrigued, and resistance was futile. Despite having other food in the house, I convinced Joseph that we had to try a couple of these pizzas (so I could play with the machine). The touchscreen was a bit temperamental. Though the display showed only one flavor to be sold out, I could not get the machine to register my choice of any of the plainer pizzas. So, we wound up with Paysanne (potatoes and bacon bits), and a decidedly unspicy Mexicaine.

"Pizza Lovers" - in English, no less!

If you want your pizza cold (frozen?), you can have it in 30 seconds. If you want it hot (well, warm), you need to allow another 3 minutes, and pay an extra 50 cents. The pizza arrives in the box through a slot like that in a bank cash dispenser machine. My friend Michele has visions of Mr. Bean hiding in the back of the machine throwing pizza dough and trying to keep up with the selections made! She also wants to know if there is a machine that dispenses a glass of wine to go with the pizzas. Not yet!

The Paysanne pizza - sauce, cheese, cooked potato slices and cooked lardons (bacon bits)

So, how was it? The Paysanne was edible, even tasty, if you can forgive the unusual combination. But the less said about the Mexicaine, the better. I will definitely try something more classic next time, like a plain Margherita pizza, if I can get Mr. Bean to make one for me.

Normandy clouds and sky over the Égrenne in the heart of the village

Cobblestones near the abbey

Statue of the Virgin Mary tucked into a wall on rue St Michel

Statue of the Virgin Mary overlooking the public school yard

With no set agenda, we were able to relax, meet with our building team about some additional jobs, and keep in touch with our new internet connection. I walked Pipkin around the village, noticing some religious statues I had missed before. And everywhere there were flowers being kept in sprightly condition by private citizens, as well as by the village gardeners.

A home with silhouette of girl watering her flowers

Three stories of flowers

Cottages and the small river channel

Flower pots near a storage room on the canal

A modern grey tower attached to old granite walls

Inside a private courtyard

A vegetable garden overlooking the village

Flowers on the old wooden bridge to the green

Four big planters perched on the rails of a bridge

A raft of flowers looking toward the town square

Geraniums in a private window along rue de Centre

A bouquet of wild flowers from our friend Nicole

Easy on the eyes, soft as a breeze, and balm to the soul, the summer days and glories pass so quickly. Next up: the village fête!

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June 2022 - Our first week living in the tiny house

7/6/2022

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Fields close to Lonlay l'Abbaye in June

June is always a splendid time to visit France, and Normandy in particular. Having now set up the basics for habitation, we were excited about the prospect of being able to stay in our own place in Lonlay l'Abbaye for the first time ever. So on June 16, we packed up our bags and headed out of Paris on the train just ahead of a predicted "canicule," or heatwave. When we arrived, we found the village awash in flowers.

Some of the floral displays are set up by the village, and others by individuals. What unites the look of the village is the care and pride that is taken in keeping the plants well-watered and maintained. There is a fair amount of variety - petunias, campanule, lavender, impatiens, roses, hydrangeas, hollyhocks, etc.

Even utilitarian corners and parking lots have blooming borders!

This house with the blue door had a spectacular climbing vine with flowers in deep purple. I think they are clematis, but those of you who know your botany should feel free to let me know if I am mistaken. :-)

Now on to the house:
Our tiny stone house was nice and cool inside when we arrived, but we could feel the heat rising by mid-afternoon on our first day, so one of the first things we did was to put up the sets of dark blue drapes we had brought with us in our luggage. In between each set of drapes, we have put up just one sheer panel, as we do not want to have too much fabric blocking our views of the village, but we need the sheers for light and privacy - especially on the ground floor.

New drapes and sheer panel on front window

Side door with new drapes

We happily unpacked the quilted placemats and matching napkins that our new friend
Denise made for us to go with our navy blue kitchen. Denise is expert at quilting, and the colors are perfect for a comfortable country look. I was amused to see that there was a blue car outside as well when I took the above picture. Good timing!

When closed against direct sunlight, the dark drapes kept the inside of our house at a nice temperature, retaining the cooler air from the early morning when we would first open the windows. Of course, we also had a floor fan delivered on the hottest day from Amazon. What a relief! Temperatures were over 30 celsius (in the 90s Fahrenheit) for a few days. Then heavy rains came and cooled the air again. Marvelous.

Looking out through the sheer curtain on the ground floor. We can see out, but those outside cannot see in. Parfait!

Our house with sheer panels and drapes in the windows upstairs and downstairs.

Aside from putting up drapes and sheer panels, the best thing we did in June was to have our internet line installed. I can't really say whether or not there was ever a phone line in our place, but since it all had to be gutted, we had none.

Windows and curtains as seen from outside. Our new phone/internet line is barely visible alongside the black power line on the granite facade of the house. Finally, after six years, we have an internet router! Up until now, we have had to rely on our iphones, often with poor connections, to do everything.

Joseph assisting the man from Orange in installing our phone/internet line.

The fellow from "Orange" - our main telephone and internet provider - seemed a bit put out at first that he had to connect a line outside the granite walls and drill through our window frame. It was amazing to see him ride up and down in his cherry picker attaching the phone line under the eaves of several adjacent stone village houses. In the end, he was cheerful, efficient and resourceful, and had our internet up and running in less than an hour. The connection seems to be very good and fast, though we have not yet tested it from upstairs.

June evening in Lonlay l'Abbaye - only getting dark after 22h00

What a pleasure it was to spend our first few nights in this village house we had long nurtured and fussed over from afar! Sitting with a glass of chilled wine and looking out at the winding main street of the village with its characterful stone houses, dark tree line and perfect sky above was like living inside a storybook.

We noticed this old photo on display in the empty storefront on rue de Centre. It depicts the same bend in the road that we can see from our living room. I'm not clear on the era here, but my guess is that it was taken in the early 20th century. There seems to be a cafe on the right where the horse and carriage have "parked." This would be in approximately the same location as our present day pharmacy.

Another wonderful old photo made into a postcard. This picture taken looking up the hill. Very excited because this one shows our house in the center right, just beyond what appears to be a flagpole. The postcard identifies the part of Lonlay l'Abbaye that our house fronts as the Grand'Rue (today's rue de Centre) and Place du Marché (place Jules Levée today).

This photo must have been taken before World War I, because there is a gazebo that likely was the center of the market in the middle of the place. Today that is where the imposing war memorial (established after World War I) stands, with the addition of the names of those lost in World War II, including nine Americans who lost their lives when their plane was shot down here on August 8, 1944.

The interesting building on the right in the photo, with an iron facade resembling a movie theater marquee, is still extant. I cannot tell from this photo what business was conducted there, but it was perhaps a Pompes Funèbres, or funeral parlor. I have always thought it would be a good location for a toy store in the present day.

Lonlay l'Abbaye (circa 1930s?)

Completing this set of antique images is this colorized postcard with a photographic image of Lonlay l'Abbaye. (I saw it for sale online for 10 euros.) You can see our house on the top right of the triangular square. I am guessing that this photo was taken sometime in the 1930s or early 1940s because the WWI war memorial appears in the square, and the cars look like they might be from that era.

It would certainly be interesting to know how this aerial photo was taken, and exactly when. Was it taken from a hot air balloon, a dirigible, a crop duster, or possibly a German or American war plane? It bears some similarity to the post-WWII photo below taken by Americans to document some of the damage done to the village during the war.

Back to the present day and the Amazon universe

Starting to feel more like home

Even though I had tried to anticipate and obtain all of our basic household goods when I was last there, it was amazing how many small things we found we still needed, now that we had "moved in." Without a car, Amazon was still our best solution.

Most of our items were delivered by La Poste, and came promptly. On days when we wanted to go together to the Relais for lunch, we left the mail carrier a note, letting her know we were there, and would come right over if she called or texted us. Instead, on two occasions, she was sweet enough to drop off our package right at the restaurant - the owners being likewise kind enough to accept it, and to hand it to us with a smile when we left. A really old-fashioned sort of charming gesture that makes Lonlay l'Abbaye so endearing.

Thus arrived additional drapes and sheer panels for the upstairs windows (once we decided we liked the ones we had downstairs). Then a wooden serving tray to put on a low storage chest, serving collectively for now as our coffee table. Then brackets to hold soap and shampoo in the shower, a soap dish, a toilet paper holder, a toilet brush and a mattress cover, airtight containers for sugar and coffee, dish towels, hand towels, a drying rack for laundry, ice cube trays, a cutting board, a dish drainer, a small kitchen rug, a fire extinguisher, a long broom and dust pan, felt protectors to go under the feet of our furniture, an iron, and hooks to hang up our jackets and Pipkin's leashes. Whew!

Oh yes, and a picture hanging kit! This is a favorite photo of Galerie Vivienne in Paris that Joseph took years ago. It hung in my work office for years while I dreamed of moving to France. Now it's like having an old friend in the kitchen.

Pipkin in clover, over and over

Cow and clothesline

Cows under a magnificent tree

Summer spider web

Field on the other side of the abbey and Mairie

More flowers on the way to market

An old spring

On cooler days, we took Pipkin for long walks out on the green, around the abbey, and ventured out on the small roads around the village. There the very fields and animals seem to transform with the seasons, as if they are putting on new clothes for each time of year. We always come across something new, or new to us, even if it is very old.

Back of the former presbytery attached to the abbey - now the back of the Mairie and doctor's offices

Entrance to the abbey

One day we tried the door to the abbey, finding it closed but not locked. Inside, we saw a sign asking visitors to leave the door open, so we did leave it ajar and saw more visitors coming after us. The interior of the abbey is full of surprises and intriguing statues, as well as being a holy and meditative place.

A gate protects the sacristy, part of the former presbytery that must still be used by the priests.

A closer look

These carved planks fold down to form seats along a sort of choir stall on both sides as you move into the nave. I really don't know if they were meant to be for priests, singers, or VIPs when they were originally put in place. They are kind of far from the altar. Perhaps the carvings have some symbolic meaning.

Now, this was a surprise. In an alcove to our immediate left upon entering the abbey, we found a hearse. Never was there before, and we don't know if it has taken up permanent residence.

Abbey columns and capitals

Beautiful stained glass

Virgin and Infant Jesus

Mysterious small fresco. An angel appears to be trying to wake up a man - possibly the Apostle Peter. I could not connect the image to any bible story I knew, so went searching for a reference. Apparently Acts 12:3-19 tells of an angel who came to free Peter when he was imprisoned by King Herod. The angel strikes Peter to wake him up, and Peter's chains fall from his wrists. Then the angel leads Peter outside to freedom. Never heard that one before, in all my years at Catholic school.

Carved altarpiece
I was going to comment on how it is somewhat bizarre that so many religious paintings and sculptures incorporate "flying baby heads" aka "putti." And when I looked up "flying baby heads," I found this link to a person who was asking herself the same question: www.artdocentprogram.com/favorite-art-history-baby-heads/

Don't know if this man is supposed to be a saint, a famous patron, or a pilgrim - but I very much appreciate the sculptor's inclusion of his dog. He stands under the scallop shell that was the symbol for pilgrims who undertook the long overland journey (The Way of Saint James) to Santiago de Compostela in northern Spain (Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle in French).

A collection of historical photos of the abbey

An engraving showing the abbey and its outbuildings in its prime. The field with the manor house across the stream to the right of the abbey is the location of today's village green.

Whenever time and weather permit, we enjoy having a late afternoon or early evening glass of wine on the terrace of the bar/tabac that ajoins the bakery. The owners are wonderful, the wine is inexpensive, and the view of the landscaped abbey and Mairie is perfection. One day while we were there with one of our super French artisans, the mayor came over to say hello and wound up treating us to a drink. We always appreciate the chance to speak with him, because he knows everything about the village and truly has its best interests at heart. In addition to all of the other renovations and projects he has spearheaded, he let us know that he is now trying to bring in a second doctor for this small village of some 1200 souls!

The war memorial from our bedroom window

On one of our last days this visit, I noticed that a name I had not seen before had been added to the war memorial. The name appears above the plaque dedicated to the American aviators, attached under the names of villagers killed in World War II. The name: Alcime Bouvet. Very curious to ask the mayor about that addition. Who was Monsieur Bouvet, and how was it that he was overlooked until now?

All too soon, it was time to close up our tiny house, but we will be back in no time at all.

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Chronopost, Country walks & Happy visits

4/20/2022

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Pipkin guarding newly delivered boxes from the postman - end of February, 2022

Early in 2022, our now habitable village house had fresh painted walls and finished woodwork, overhead lighting, heating and plumbing, but was still in need of basic furniture and housewares. Bringing furnishings down from Paris on the train or in a rental van was impractical and unnecessary, so we started to see what we could have delivered.

At a bare minimum, we needed a convertible couch, a table and chairs, a bed and a mattress. Ok, mostly available to order online, and we were able to try out the couch in real life at a Paris store. What else? Bedding, towels, plates and glasses, silverware, and basic cooking pots and pans.

You try to imagine living in the as yet empty rooms, remembering what you have used most in vacation rentals and what you cannot live without. That leads to looking for a coffee maker, a toaster, and a hair dryer. The list gets longer. Can't forget the corkscrew! What about a vacuum cleaner and smoke alarms?

Finding that it was nearly impossible to narrow the deliveries to just a couple of dates certain in Lonlay, it was determined that Pipkin and I would go for a long stay at the end of February, beginning of March, and do our best to meet scattered deliveries from our multiple providers. Joseph had to stay in Paris for some appointments and to supervise some work in the U.S.

Before we left, Joseph went with me to the Paris Ikea one day, where I took photos of all the items we liked and thought we might order, along with their quirky Ikea names.

The Madeleine - 8th arrondissement
Only in Paris would this be the view from the window of your local Ikea store!

Ikea Arstid lamp - a useful addition

Early mornings on the village green with the old cider press illuminated

On-line ordering and delivery has improved over the course of the pandemic years, but there are yet many challenges in France to having large items delivered, and a lot of confusion about when to order smaller items to fit a delivery window as well. I started to get email notices and texts every day from different delivery companies, letting me know approximately when they would be coming, but they never said which item they were delivering, or from whom it was sent.

On several bitter cold mornings, I had to get up while it was still dark to walk Pipkin and have some coffee, sometimes running into the bakery for a croissant, then we would dash up to camp out at our house from 8:00 to 12:00, not knowing if someone would arrive with a mattress or a toaster!

I had only one old chair to sit in, and a limited number of treats and toys to distract Pipkin, who took umbrage at having to wait hours for someone to bark at.

Lots of cardboard to go to recycling

There were the usual mixups - early deliveries, late deliveries, a damaged pan (speedily replaced by Ikea), supplicating phone calls in my garbled French to Amazon, etc.

Small to medium-sized packages were often delivered via "Chronopost," which actually is just a service of the regular post office. Efficient and friendly, our postman was probably relieved when the stream of small appliances he had to deliver to me came to an end.

Larger items and specialty orders were delivered by a hodge-podge of companies. Most were very professional, sending updates on their locations and expected time of delivery, but one company was so clueless and impossible to contact that I was forced to cancel the order altogether.

Some orders arrived days in advance, sending me scurrying back to the house when I thought I had time for a walk. Our main room was soon awash in cardboard cartons to be cut down and flattened to go to recycling.

The bed frame boxes were quite large.

"La Redoute" sent only one man to deliver the collection of boxes whose contents were supposed to make up our bed. He took one look at our narrow staircase and announced, with a sad shrug, that it was not possible for him to take the contents upstairs. Fortunately, our French builders stopped by a couple of days later.

I thought they would have to take the boxes through the upstairs' windows somehow, but the two of them took the headboard out of its box, and managed to wend it up the stairs without a scratch to their fresh paint job. Later on, one of them assembled the bed for us, along with a table for our living room. We will open the compressed mattress on our next visit when we will bring a mattress cover to put on it.

Cupboard 1 - Before spacesaver

Cupboard 1 - After spacesaver

Cupboard 2 - Before spacesaver

Cupboard 2 - After spacesaver - room for some foodstuffs!

As we have only two cupboards in the kitchen in Lonlay, I discovered very quickly that if I filled them with dishware and pots, we would have no room for groceries. Sure, we have a big refrigerator, but what about canned goods, olive oil, coffee, tea, dry cereal, pasta, salt and pepper? We won't keep much food in at a time, but there has to be some space for it.

Not being remotely domestic, I was quite pleased with myself for thinking to order some extendable metal shelves that have temporarily solved the problem by freeing up a whole shelf. The instructions for installation that came with them were not at all necessary, but amusing.

"Bid farewell to trifles and reject installation fees" - my new motto

Our house on Place Jules Levée - February 2022

Before we finish up at the house, let's look at some of the country walks that Pipkin and I were able to enjoy whenever we weren't stuck waiting for a delivery. We had a lot of very cold weather, as it was the end of February, beginning of March. Several days were overcast, and there was some rain, but we also had several bright sunny afternoons. The air was always fresh and delightful to breathe. I felt I could walk for miles.

Below are some still photos and a short video from our walks, all within about half an hour from the village center. With the trees still bare, I could more readily see the courses of multiple streams and springs that all seemed to run into Lonlay - aka "the long valley." Sources of water that have been crucial since ancient times for humans, their crops and their animals.

I started to notice some white painted circles along the roads, and was curious as to their purpose. On closer inspection, they appeared to be representative of a large drop of water, and I soon realized that they appeared to denote where a smaller spring or stream was running underneath the road to join a larger stream or river. Clever!

Water drop marker showing underground path of a stream feeding into a larger waterway

Further out on the road to Beauchêne

The "moulin neuf" seen from the road to Beauchêne

A country lane heading in toward Lonlay l'Abbaye (abbey in the center distance)

Street lantern

Vegetation on an old wall

Ancient wooden door in an old cut stone doorway

18th or 19th century (?) gate

Water trough in a small field overlooking Lonlay l'Abbaye and the abbey

Hilltop perspective of the village green

Downhill village green

Uphill village green from children's play area

Houses and a tower near the Relais de l'Abbaye viewed from behind on the village green

In addition to the green areas, we also walked along the sweet curving streets of Lonlay itself, always interested to see any changes. Flowers that could resist the cold weather were in their boxes around the village to brighten things up. In an empty storefront on rue de Centre, someone had created a historical display about an old flour mill that had once been a flourishing business in the village.

Enlargement of a postcard showing villagers proudly posing near the old mill

Artifacts from the old mill business

More work was being done on the mayor's big project not far from our house on Place Jules Levée. Having sought information previously about the namesake of our "place" without success on the internet, I was intrigued to see a broken plaque that gave me more of a clue as to who Jules Levée actually was. I knew that he had been deported during WWII, and was likely Jewish, but could find no other information. I assumed he had lived at or near this location in the village.

Part of the worksite at the corner of Place Jules Levée

Broken plaque dedicating Place Jules-Marc Levée next to the worksite

The plaque, apparently broken in half, had been likely found by the workers at the new worksite and propped up against a wall. From the broken plaque, I could divine that his full name must have been Jules-Marc Levée, and that he was likely described as an "homme politique" due to his leadership locally, perhaps in the Resistance. The date of 1945 was probably his date of death, with the birth date missing.

Why had this plaque come off the wall of the buildings at Place Jules Levée at some point? Was it through neglect, as with the derelict buildings that the mayor was now seeking to restore, or was it vandalism? I could not know, but I could now search for the man with his full name. I was able to find out that he was deported in 1944 to Buchenwald and died at age 29 on April 21, 1945 (just a few days before his April 25th birthday) after the liberation of the camp in 1945. Terribly sad. I am assuming he was politically active and likely a member of the Resistance. Perhaps I can find out more at a later time.

And now we have another war in Europe. Putin invaded Ukraine the day after I arrived in Lonlay l'Abbaye. I did not have a wifi connection, but was able to keep up with some print media like the New York Times and Washington Post on my phone, and also knew of some of the early atrocities from talking with Joseph, who was keeping up with BFM TV and CNN.

A bit surreal to be in this bucolic little village while hell was opening up daily under the Ukrainian people. Not so long ago, in the last century, Lonlay l'Abbaye knew its own version of hell. American soldiers and French citizens here spilled their blood to render it free.

One early morning around 5:30, I awakened to my alarm and saw an email come in from a dear friend in Los Angeles, distraught about Putin's war. I had no great consolation to offer her, but it was oddly comforting to be able to connect and share our mutual distress across so many time zones.

Pinterest photos selected by Giancarlo Pelle showing American soldiers in Lonlay l'Abbaye during WWII, and the same street in modern times

My phone was a lifeline for me. Without any computer or internet connection other than the 4G my phone could access, it was my connection to the whole world. Phone calls with Joseph, delivery updates, news of a death in the family, news of the Ukrainian war, it was my all. I always had it charging, and panicked a little when I thought how utterly bereft I would be if I lost it or broke it, or if Pipkin decided it was a chew toy. I needed it to arrange my pickup to go back to the train station, to take pictures, to call Amazon, to arrange visits with our builders, to know what was happening in the world.

I was happy to be able to use my phone to contact the lovely woman who comes to clean our place and check on it once a month. Thanks to her, the place was spotless when I arrived, though I had to leave it a bit of a mess with all the packing materials. Not only did she come for a nice visit, but she also brought one of her artworks to show me - a sweet painting of a little dog, and a gift of a half dozen wonderful fresh eggs from her own chickens. The eggs were very large with rich orange yolks, and a real treat.

In the end, I managed to get delivery of everything we needed most before I headed home in early March. We still need dining chairs (a long story), some occasional tables and bookcases, and more lamps, but we are on our way to full habitability.

I cleaned out the cobwebs from our upstairs armoire (once I had a vacuum cleaner), and sorted through some of our daughter's school memorabilia in the attic, amidst deliveries and our walks around the countryside.

Our convertible couch arrived fully assembled, as did a heavy wooden chest that we will use (with cushions) as a window seat in the living room.

Joseph helped me select a cement color for our entryway, which our builder put in before we returned to Lonlay l'Abbaye at the end of March with our visiting daughter. He also saw to a whole set of other details, including mounting our curtain rods and filling in a gap in the stairs.

New cement entryway

Curtain rods up over all the windows and doors - Must order curtains now!

Our visit to Lonlay with our daughter Andelys was quite brief, though she had two weeks with us in Paris. We had just a few hours together in the village to see the house and have lunch at the Relais. She was enchanted with the work that had been done, and even approves of our blue couch. We were thrilled to have her with us, as we had long been separated by pandemic restrictions, particularly restrictions on travel to and from Australia, where she lives with her love in Melbourne.

While at the Relais, we ran into our builder and his lovely wife, and it was fortunate that we did, as we had left our Lonlay house keys in Paris!

Before we left Lonlay on the day of Andelys' visit, we stopped for a quick glass of wine at the boulangerie/bar at the foot of the hill. I was surprised and touched to be given a bouquet of tulips by one of the owners! She remembered that we had brought her some tea from Paris on our last visit, and was so thoughtful and kind to give up her flowers to me instantly on a whim. How can you not love a place with people like this?

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Transformative magic - Before, during, & after -in our tiny house in Lonlay l'abbaye

12/30/2021

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Photo of the magical aurora borealis by Matheus Bertelli from Pexels

Happy New Year to us all! We are looking forward to 2022 with renewed hopes, and with some fond memories of 2021, despite it having been a very difficult year in so many respects.

After many years of starts and stops, Joseph and I arrived near the end of 2021 with a renewed determination to see our tiny Normandy village house made whole and livable.

Over the course of several weeks in November and December, we were cheered to receive regular emails and photos from our two man team of artisans that delighted us as we saw our place being transformed.

Building on the years of solid "infrastructure" that had been laid by our main contractors, the new team tackled the last set of architectural problems that had bedeviled us - an unsafe step on the main stairs, the decrepit stairwell walls, the lack of secure handrails, the exposed electric box, the cavity inside the "door of doom" around the main water valve, the missing door to the attic, deteriorating attic steps, and the need for a door to close over the "cave" under the kitchen stairs.

Then came the painting, always a very satisfying finish for rebuilt rooms in an old house. Because the rooms are small, we opted for all white walls to start, with the exception of navy blue in the kitchen to set the space apart.

Within just a few weeks, the work was done! Our schedule did not allow us to leave Paris for long in early December, but we were very curious to see it all in person, so we gathered up Pipkin and hopped on the train for a one day round trip visit.

Charming as ever, but very cold, the village was following its ancient ways, preparing for the holidays in early December.

Real pine trees were set up and decorated at frequent spots throughout the village.

The narrow river ran fast and high along its channels.

There was a fair amount of business traffic, and the Relais was busy at lunchtime, but no one stayed out on the street in the cold rain for long.

We checked out the Christmas lights set up on the green and all around the village.
Too bad we could not stay to see them lit up. Maybe next year.

The abbey was ready for Christmas.

The newest construction project inspired by Christian Derouet, the village's remarkable mayor, was underway at the corner of Place Jules Levée. Men were bravely working in the bitter cold, throwing debris out the window of an abandoned house. It is being gutted for renovation, along with several others on the edge of our square. With governmental participation and investment, these houses will be remade into six new dwellings with a green space behind. It always cheers us to see the village continuing to change and thrive, even while it retains its homey character.

Seeing that work brought to mind the early days of demolition at our house - when it had to be torn down to earthern floor and stone walls, beginning in 2016.

Somehow, having observed our house's step by step reconstruction from that point over the years made the final result all the more remarkable and magical for us. Stepping inside our place in December 2021, we were thrilled to see transformation at every turn.

Without much further comment, I hope you will all enjoy the "before" and "after" photos of each section of our house. In some cases, I have reached back - for dramatic effect - to include much earlier stages of the renovation. Wherever possible, the photos are shots taken from a similar angle over time.

Advisement: this is a loooong post with dozens of photos. You may want to get a cup of tea or glass of wine (depending on your time zone) before you dive in.

First up is the kitchen...

BEFORE - 2016 - The kitchen after some early demolition - more than ready for a fresh start!

2018/19 - Kitchen appliances and cabinets being fitted

By September 2021 - Lots of work already done. Walls are up, hardwood flooring in, kitchen is installed

AFTER - December 2021 - Painted and finished!

Let's take a quick detour to the entryway, and come back to the kitchen in a minute...

BEFORE - September 2021 - Entryway and the sad old stairwell

AFTER - December 2021 - Entryway and stairs
(Note that we now have a door on the "cave!")

We still need to get the "cave" cleaned out!

Back to the living room/kitchen areas now...

BEFORE - In 2015 when we first saw the house, there was a dividing wall in the living room, looking toward the kitchen

2016 - Entry, stairway and kitchen area viewed from the living room after demolition of the dividing wall and old hardboard on the kitchen walls

August 2016 - New electrical, plumbing, insulation in the walls and metal framing done

2017 - Drywall up and new flooring installed
(New step was created at the bottom of the stairs from leftover oak flooring upstairs)

2019 - Kitchen fully installed

AFTER - December 2021 - A livable, clean and tidy kitchen painted in one of my favorite colors

AFTER - Longer view of stairwell and kitchen from the living room/salon
New cabinet built around electric panel high on the left wall
(And we all remember the "door of doom" covering the water valve access below)

The new cabinet and framing before painting

AFTER - The three utility cabinets near the front door

AFTER - Another view

Inside the electrical cabinets

BEFORE - Reaching inside the "door of doom" to turn the water valve was very unpleasant

AFTER - After painting, the "door of doom" looks better from the outside

And clean inside! Even Pipkin approves.
Now, back to the kitchen for more finished photos...

Note to kitchen planners: decide where your big appliances will be before you have the outlets installed in the walls. We'll have to put a table or rolling cabinet in front of this plug, because we need to use it for the washer/dryer, but all looks good.

Now, let's step into the living room, starting with the way it was...

BEFORE - 2015 - We knew going in that we would have to replace all the floors on the ground level

2015 - But at least the living room had good light and a nice recessed window

2015 - This wide angle shot shows part of the old fireplace that we wanted to keep, but was covered up. We may yet install a small woodstove in this corner, but will have to investigate the chimney before doing so.

2016 - Living room floor demolished. Sewer pipe on the dirt floor amidst stone debris

2016 -Significant progress toward modernizing the space

2017 - Drywall up in the living room

AFTER - December 2021 - Prepped, painted and finished!

Along the way, we also had to replace the old wooden door that opens onto rue St. Nicolas. The new one is an exact replica in aluminum, so the house retains the same look it had in the 1940s. Everything we do to the outside of the house has to be approved because it is close to the Abbey, an historic monument.

There used to be a cabinet in the alcove to the right of the side door. We have not decided yet how to use it.

An evening view of the living room. The wood flooring takes on a different hue depending on the time of day, and natural or artificial light. There is not a lot of room for furniture, but we think a convertible sofa and at least one armchair will make it comfortable.

Aside from the comprehensive wall prep and painting work in every room, our new team took on some significant building tasks as well. We were pleased to see the drywall finished in neglected spaces, and some very creative carpentry. The stairwell needed the most work...

BEFORE - Wattle and daub walls of the stairwell - still exposed in October 2021

DURING - New drywall going up

BEFORE - Stairwell wall & ceiling

BEFORE - The stairwell shelf

DURING - More drywall, cutting and shaping

The original curve of the banister at the top of the stairwell is uncovered and revealed again to provide better handhold stability and aesthetics.

Fitting handrails for the right side descent

Walls painted, new handrails waiting to be stained and reinstalled

AFTER - December 2021 - quite a difference!

An elegant stairwell with character - a work of art in our eyes, uncovering and enhancing the classic beauty of these narrow stairs, probably more than a century old.

The artisans also addressed a safety issue for us: a misstep close to the upstairs landing.

BEFORE - the awkward half step that made the climb unstable

AFTER - The new solid step gives us better purchase, with handrails on both sides now.

Only Pipkin has a bit of an issue with the new step, as it seems difficult for her to get her tummy over the width of the last step without assistance!

Overhead in the stairwell there was more work to be done...

BEFORE - October 2021 - Undercarriage of attic stairs over stairwell - unfinished drywall on the left, and an old slat board wall on the right.

DURING - New drywall installed and undercarriage of stairs enclosed. No more schmutz!

AFTER - Finished stairwell overhang as seen from bedroom doorway - neat and clean.

And now that we are upstairs, let's look at the transformation wrought by both teams of builders over time in 1) the bathroom, 2) the "study/library" (small room at top of the stairs outside the bathroom) and 3) the bedroom.

First, a look at the bathroom in BEFORE times...

BEFORE - 2016 - The wall to the bathroom had been removed, but this is what it was!

2016 - Bathroom demolished. Looking down into the demolished kitchen!

2017 - New plumbing, electrical and base flooring for bathroom installed

2018 - The new bathroom installed!

December 2021 - Ellen and Pipkin in the study/library, ready for the big bathroom reveal

AFTER - The finished and painted bathroom. Tiny, but complete!

Now let's look at the study/library area...

BEFORE - 2016 - Upstairs in our tiny village house:
Old built-in armoire on the left. Openings left to right are: stairs up to attic, stairs down to kitchen/living room, and the gutted bathroom space. Floors are open and being relaid on new beams in the study/library. Old attic door is leaning against the wall on the right.

The study/library, the small room at the top of the landing, was enlarged a bit by our first set of builders who created a new indented wall on the righthand side to give us more room for a desk or shelving...

AFTER: The study/library looks perfect after painting.
Door on the left is the bathroom door.

AFTER: Looking out of the study/library toward the old built-in armoire and window. Bathroom door on the right.

As a special request, the artisans also reconfigured the inside of the old armoire from multiple horizontal shelving to just two shelves and a hanging rod so we can store clothing there until we can create other closet space or purchase a free-standing armoire for the bedroom.

Space for clothing in the old armoire

The study/library at the top of the stairs leads into the main bedroom.

Today the bedroom is beautifully painted and well-renovated (with the exception of the hanging "bulb of shame.") But not that long ago, it was a work in progress too.

BEFORE - In 2016, you could see the window in the living room through the floor beams of the bedroom (bedroom wall not yet reconstructed next to the built-in armoire).

BEFORE - Looking toward the side window of the bedroom, the floor has yet to be installed in the study/library through to the bedroom. There is no wall or door to the bedroom yet. The old fireplace opening is still visible on the side wall.

Even when the new hardwood floors were put in, the walls looked very shabby. Our first team of builders replaced all of the drywall and covered up the old fireplace vent. Our second team finished the job by prepping all the walls and applying several heavy coats of white paint.

AFTER: The back wall of the bedroom and side window.

AFTER: The main bedroom window brings in a lot of light. Looking out the bedroom door, we can see the armoire and the window in the study/library. All the painting is done, including the doors.

AFTER: Everything a very smooth white satin finish. If we decide to paint a different color later, or apply wallpaper, making changes should be very easy. For now, the white is serene and brings in a lot of winter light.

Going back to the landing at the top of the stairs in the study/library, you can see that the old attic door has been restored to its rightful place.

Because some overhanging drywall had been removed earlier from this doorway, the antique door was a bit too short, but our clever team fashioned some additional wooden pieces at the top of the door to fit it flush with the doorjamb.

Knowing that we wanted to keep some antique character in the house, the artisans left the rough rustic finish of the original door, just painting the outside white to blend with the walls.

The inside of the attic door retains its original reddish-brown color.

BEFORE - September 2021 - Several of the attic stairs were in need of repair and the inside wall of the attic stairwell was a decrepit set of loose boards.

AFTER: Attic steps strengthened and replaced where needed, and new painted drywall neatly closed the stairwell.

AFTER: I was especially happy to see that one of the top treads had been replaced with new wood, as that step previously felt very weak.

The attic was very cold and drafty, so we did not dally there on our one day visit. We were glad to have the electric wall heaters in the main living areas to keep us warm.

Many thanks to our builders and artisans who have worked so hard to restore and refresh this little stone house, bring at least some of it into the 21st century, and who have given us a gift that both we and our families will treasure for years to come.

Many, many thanks to all of you, our readers, family, friends, cyber-friends, work colleagues and renovation addicts, who have supported us to this point with your positive emails and comments as we have gone through this process.

There is more to be done, of course. New windows to be created and installed, furniture to be purchased or found, decorating decisions, art to be hung, skylights and renovation in the attic, and the whole of Normandy to explore once we finally buy a car! We hope to continue to share our love of France and this sweet village with you all in the future.

Until next time, best wishes for a splendid year!

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Toussaint

11/14/2021

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Sunrise over the abbey on October 31, 2021

On our most recent visit to Lonlay l'Abbaye, we arrived on the day before Halloween.

When I was a little kid, in the late great 1960s, in the late great U.S. of A., Halloween was my favorite holiday other than Christmas. Not only did we get to dress up in ridiculous outfits, wearing eye makeup to be Cleopatra or Pocohontas, or smudging our faces with burnt cork and wearing our fathers' flannel shirts to look like sad "hobos," but we got to run up and down the entire street late at night with our friends.

We carried old pillowcases or plastic pumpkins to collect the dozens of candy bars, Pez, wax lips, candy corn and other sugar bombs that we would extort from our friendly neighbors, calling out "Trick or Treat!" at their doorsteps while they smiled and laughed at our costumes.

The whole neighborhood was wise to the game, with almost every house featuring multiple jack-o-lanterns - huge fresh pumpkins cleaned and gutted of their seeds and pulp that held flickering candles that burned black carbon soot inside the orange globes.

The "bad kids" and malcontent teens might toilet paper the trees outside an enemy's house, or smash raw eggs on cars and in the streets. Sometimes shaving cream or whipped cream would be sprayed directly on a rival. If these signs of nascent criminality were somewhat disturbing to witness, they were equally exciting to talk about afterwards with our friends.

Once every likely home had been tapped for its sugary bribes, we would collapse back in our own living rooms and spill the treasures out on the floor, separating the best chocolates from the cheaper penny candies, glorying like pirates over our loot.

Wikipedia has a fascinating article about the history of "Trick or Treating" as it has developed in different cultures. en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trick-or-treating

French children getting into the spirit
(Photo taken in Brittany by French Today)
www.frenchtoday.com/blog/french-culture/halloween-in-france-toussaint/

The French have not wholeheartedly embraced the idea of trick-or-treat, having their own All Saints Day (Toussaint) traditions on November 1. But there are areas in Paris where the merchants now give candy to costumed kiddies at the end of October, and young adults have Halloween parties and zombie gatherings for fun in many of the large cities.

In Lonlay l'Abbaye this year, we saw a few family groups with small goblins and witches who seemed to be going to friends' houses, so perhaps the tradition will continue to spread.

For the most part though, the Toussaint holiday is more akin to Thanksgiving in its focus on family. Schools are closed for two weeks, and most people strive to go back to their home cities or villages for a few days during that time to gather with their extended families. They visit the cemeteries on November 1, laying pots of chrysanthemums on the graves of their loved ones.

The small hillside cemetery of Lonlay l'Abbaye

A special family monument

WHAT A DIFFERENCE AN HOUR CAN MAKE!
When a time change overnight on October 30 caused the next day (Halloween) to end in early darkness, my Irish blood felt skittish about the thin veil this time of year between the living and the dead.
A group of scruffy backpackers and other strangers appeared to be camping out that weekend under the darkened arches of the abbey. It startled me to see figures walking in the gloom across the village green and down the narrow streets when I walked our dog.

Medieval arches of the abbey

Rue St Nicolas in the early evening

Pipkin wasn't helping matters any, appearing as a demon dog in certain light!

The abbey at night

Hardworking bankers still at the branch on rue St Michel after dark

The travelling fish market van outside the bakery on Thursday night

Our house at night

View from upstairs in our house at dusk, looking down rue du Centre

With the close of another year at hand, and with so many months having evaporated into the pandemic, Joseph and I were plowing on to make some progress in our Lonlay village house. Several late afternoons saw us sorting out thousands of photos by year that we had stored in two heavy filing cabinets. At least we had electricity, heat, and recessed lights in the ceiling to work by. We did not have time to look at all the photos - but the filing cabinets were taking up valuable space in our front room, and they needed to go.

The filing cabinets, with doors open to the electric box and "door of doom" water valve box

Photo boxes in the attic

One thing I realized was that the photos all seem very precious to me, and I really don't want to throw any of them out, but at least we repacked them in plastic containers I had ordered from Amazon, and now they are up in the attic. We still have oodles more boxes of photos and memorabilia to go through that are in cardboard boxes upstairs. My wedding dress, daughter's school projects, old toys and books... Ok, next time....

I had ordered ten big plastic storage boxes for Lonlay, but somehow the order was cut in two and one set of boxes went to our default address in Paris! I got a call on the Saturday from the delivery guy who was standing outside our building there. Had to tell him to take those boxes back. No time to order more while we were in Lonlay, because Monday the 1st was a holiday, and there was no option for expedited shipping. Ok, next time...

One storage box was broken in the set we received. I braved calling Amazon.fr. Got someone to speak to me in English. Did not expect much, but they gave me a refund of nearly half the price of the full set!

Bedroom "bulb of shame"

Speaking of builders, we were happy to be able to walk with them through our house, room by room, noting projects that may require their expertise in the coming months - after they first address the ruined stairwell and paint all the interior - which is quite a lot of work already.

In our bedroom hangs the "bulb of shame." We already have recessed lights in most of the rooms, but I imagined that all we would need in the bedroom was a "chandelier," as I envisioned several smaller lamps on chests and nightstands that would supply ample additional lighting. Well, naturally, I discovered that the central position I had chosen for said chandelier was going to hit everyone in the head. Nor is the ceiling high enough to accommodate a classic chandelier. So the bulb of shame hangs there to remind me.

Most likely we will install a light fixture here that will fit closer to the ceiling to remedy that problem. Our leading contender at the moment is a classic 20th century art deco style. www.luminaire.fr/plafonnier-antique-caecilia-42-cm.html

Moving on to the attic...

The attic stairwell, steps and side wall all need work

Eventually, we plan to cover over the attic walls with drywall and make the attic into another bedroom or office.

But first we will have to be sure that all of the small leaks, like the one we had near the old chimney, are fully sealed. We will need at least two skylights, and we will put in a permanent floor. Right now, the floor is made of strong plywood that allows us to walk on it and store items, but we would like it to be hardwood.

The drywall is already up in the attic, along with the old attic door (on top) that will be painted and rehung.

In one corner of the attic, a beam crosses in front of the water heater. Thanks to plumbing and electrical connections placed here by our previous builders at our request, it should be possible to make a small powder room in this corner in the future. People may have to duck under the beam, however, in order to use the loo!

At present, only two small windows let natural light into the attic. This one is clear, but the other is covered with lichen and does not allow much light to enter. We look forward to having a better view one day through a larger skylight toward the center of the village.

We like visiting the house and making future plans for all the rooms, but who can stay indoors for long when the crisp outdoors beckons, and Normandy puts on all of its reds and gold and rust colors for us to admire?

The abbey and its surrounds are the serene center of the village, reflecting each season.

One bridge leads to another, crossing the several tributaries that course the village. The flowers change with the seasons as well. Pansies are planted for late fall and winter, being resistant to frost.

Long buses and tractor-trailers that provide transport and goods to the region pass through Lonlay periodically throughout the day, but for many hours at a time it is still very much a pedestrian village, as it was a hundred years ago, and a hundred years before that.

Signage reminds us that many areas are for "pietons" - pedestrians only.

This is a village with a sense of humor. No excuse for not picking up by saying you don't read French!

A visit would not be complete without steak and fries, hake in white wine sauce and a casserole of buttered vegetables at the Relais de l'Abbaye.

Always there are so many other things I wish I could show you about our time in the village, but I cannot capture them well enough or furtively enough with an iphone:

icy air that seizes my throat as I marvel at early morning lawns covered in frost, sparkling like white sugar in the sun,

an older man in his reflective vest who kindly warns us of a big intersection at the top of a hill,

little urchins at the preschool being reminded over and over that they are not to eat "that,"

the mayor getting his coffee and making his appointed rounds,

the scent of fresh breads at the boulangerie,

the friendly dog that lives at the supermarket,

the sound of rushing water under the bridges,

and the splendid midnight show of stars, majestic against black sky over the village green.

You'll have to take my word for some of it.

November in Lonlay l'Abbaye, in the time of All Saints.

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Halfway down the stairs

10/15/2021

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Ernest Shepard's illustration for A.A. Milne's poem "Halfway Down"

Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair
Where I sit.
There isn't any
Other stair
Quite like
It.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top;
So this is the stair
Where
I always
Stop.

[Fragment of "Halfway Down," a poem by A.A. Milne in When We Were Very Young (1924) E.P. Dutton, p.81.]

Our ancient oak staircase with wattle and daub wall

Our ancient "characterful" staircase ... suitable for sitting and even for a spot of poetry perhaps, but not looking quite as finished as we would like...
Having been away from Lonlay l'Abbaye and our little house "project" for almost two years, thanks to the "gilet jaunes," transit strikes and the pandemic, we walked in to take stock of where we were once we arrived. In memory, and in our store of photos, it seemed to us that so much work had been done - the place was nearly habitable. Walls up, bathroom done, kitchen in place - check, check, check.

Certainly the charming lady who has been keeping our place clean and who has alerted us to two leaks has done a very good job, working around our storage boxes and filing cabinets, chasing away spiders, cleaning up after the dear swallows who leave their messy mud nests each year, and leaving traps to discourage insects and mice from getting into our storage boxes.

We had hoped to be able to get the place painted and begin to move in some furniture.
Our first walk through upon arrival however, revealed that there was substantially more work to be done before we could even think of moving in to live here, or to have friends visit. Surely we were well more than halfway, but certain areas were discouraging. The main staircase was a glaring reminder that this is a very old house still in need of more rejuvenation.

To begin with, we looked at the stairs from the ground floor to the first level. Fairly steep and narrow, the stairs are ancient but strong solid oak. The surrounding walls however, are mostly wattle and daub, old panelling, and peeling paint. So the staircase surrounds desperately need a refresh - new wallboard and/or plaster all the way up.

Staircase wall - more wattle and daub - and wood?

Curve of the stairs - old panelling and paper

Last few quirky steps

Most disturbing are the last few steps to the upstairs level. The penultimate step is only a small half-step that does not hold your whole foot. Then you have to step up higher to the next level with no handrail or newell post, as the old handrail disappears into a corner of wallboard at that point. A person could easily lose their balance here, especially if they have had a glass too full, (not that that would ever apply to us ;-)

Going down these stairs from the first level is also precarious for the first step or two, due to the half-step, no handrail on the right, and no handrail on the left until you have already gone past the unsafe step.

So we are getting bids from two sets of builders to make all of these necessary staircase repairs (and a few others noted below) before painting can commence. Also getting bids for painting the whole interior of the house. And, until the painting is done, bringing in furniture will only complicate matters, so that too has to wait.

Exposed undercarriage of old attic stairs

Standing at the top of said stairs, there is also the unsightly undercarriage of what may be part of our existing stairs to the attic, or perhaps part of a staircase that once linked to one of the adjacent townhouses. These old stone homes have been carved up in somewhat peculiar ways.

I think that the wallboard that previously covered this undercarriage had to be removed to allow for new electric wiring, as did some of the wallboard on the staircase wall, but now it is time to close up again, refinish and move on.

Window at the landing/study area with new heater. Opening to attic stairs on the right.

Turning immediately to your right once you have gotten to the first level, there is a window here at what we call the landing/study area. The doorway to the attic stairs is on the right again.

The attic stairs have got to be repaired, as they look rather precarious, and we do want to be able to use the attic space now that we have a floor in there again. There are wallboards already up in the attic waiting to finish the space off, but that is another project for later.
For now, we need to have functional stairs going up there, and a new door built for the entrance to the attic stairs. The old door was taken off its hinges at some point, but was rather shabby, and seems to have disappeared in any event.

Throwback to 2016

This throwback photo from November 2016 shows the unfinished first floor at the landing/study area with stacked wallboards. You can see the opening to the attic stairs on the left, my ungraceful climb to the top of the stairs, and the gaping hole on the right that is now our bathroom.

Small storage space at ground level under the stairs

A peek inside the "cave"

Back to the present day...

Under the stairs on the ground level is a small Harry Potter-sized storage spot that we grandly call the "cave" (French pronunciation: roughly "kaahv" or "kaaaahhv-uh" if you want to sound more snooty!). A French "cave" is a wine cellar or storage space, usually unheated, and therefore suitable for holding wine.

Over the years, this space has become a catchall, or "débarras" for cleaning supplies and leftover building materials. It seems neatly bricked and dry when empty. We'd like to clear it out, reorganize it, and have a door made for it. Maybe there will be room for some wine!

Electric box and circuit breakers on the wall above the "door of doom" - water valve access - down below.

Water valve access and "cavity" inside the "door of doom"

Another space that we would like to see addressed is the one I call the "Door of Doom." On the same wall that houses our electric meter (behind a door) is a lower door that opens into an unfinished space. In it, there is an open cavity to the dirt floor with electrical wires running close by the main water valve.

The space is accessorized with some floating insulation, crumbling granite, soil, spiders and God knows what else might live down there in the crawl space under the house. Putting your hand in to turn on the water is like reaching into a tomb. So we have asked our builders for some ideas to block off some of the open cavity here, but leaving the valve cleanly accessible.

Wide angle - bedroom windows

And finally, the windows....For years I resisted the advice of several builders who said the wooden windows on the house would have to be replaced. I could not bear losing them, with their clear panes that had seen so much history, and their antique hardware (see blog archives - 15 February, 2016). But after yet another expert evaluation, I have had to reluctantly conclude that they have to be replaced, just as our doors had to be replaced.

We are determined that they will be remade exactly as before, however, in oak with traditional hardware. This will be quite an expense, but as with the rest of the renovation, it is also for continuity, for history, and for what we hope will be the next hundred years of life for this tiny old house in this charming village.

Our village house - September 2021

Looking forward to our next visit very soon!

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Un très beau village: Lonlay l'Abbaye

9/30/2021

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The village green and orchard

Finally, after nearly two years away, we were able to visit Lonlay l'Abbaye again this September! What a welcome sight were the broad lawns of the green, the weathered stones of the abbey, the slope of the main street, and the good-humored folks who tend to every corner of this well-maintained village. A lowkey but joyful homecoming for us.

The weather was perfect, with just a few rainshowers to refresh the flowers and lawns, and seeing so many butterflies and birds was a delight.

The end of the rainbow just slightly left of our house with the white door.

Archways of the ancient abbey

Despite more than a year of pandemic woes and surely much less tourism than usual, the village looked prosperous and cheerful. We had read of several projects that the resourceful mayor and his staff had brought to fruition, including renovation of the former veterinary into a group gîte, a childcare center, groundbreaking on a new senior living space and another major building project that will transform some disused village homes into six new residences very close to our house on Place Jules Levée. Somehow the mayor obtained 750,000 euros for that project!

Wild white roses

Bridge across the Égrenne in the middle of Lonlay l'Abbaye

The Égrenne river running through Lonlay l'Abbaye. Cobbler's cottage in background.

Bridge across the Égrenne river

Purple flowers beside the stream

Very old fountain in the main square

Mysterious purple door between the Abbey and the Mairie

Computer work center and the doctor's office housed in the renovated abbatial offices

Proud homeowner's cascading floral arrangements

Flowers on a private bridge

Lonlay was festooned with flowers, along the riverbanks and in planters and windowboxes all over the village. We had heard that the village "fête" (that usually features spectacular fireworks) was cancelled this summer due to Covid concerns, and I suspect that some of that budget may have been wisely redirected toward buying more flowers to brighten the streets. An annual contest for floral displays at individual houses encourages delightful color in the narrow passageways.
An association called "Les Plus Beaux Villages de France" (The Most Beautiful Villages of France) counts 159 small villages among its members. They are mainly in areas of natural beauty, must number fewer than 2000 in population, and must have at least two national heritage sites. Lonlay has the abbey (11th to 15th centuries), and a historically classed Merovingian tomb (Le Sarcophage de la Thomassière) on its outskirts. I'm sure that I am not alone in thinking Lonlay l'Abbaye's charm could certainly merit designation as one of the most beautiful villages in France.
While we were visiting, a crew from TF1 (a major French tv channel) was interviewing the mayor and other residents for their perspectives on keeping rural village life alive and well.

Back of the Abbey and offices now housing the Mairie and other functions

Backside of the Abbey - open to the public

Private gardens across from the Abbey grounds

The contiguous Abbey, Mairie, computer work center, media center and doctor's office in renovated quarters

Looking toward the square from in front of the Mairie and the Abbey

A walk around the back side of the stately abbey brings you along another small tributary and to a look across some private gardens before coming out again to the main square. One of our favorite things to do in Lonlay is to explore all of these picturesque locations on foot. No need for a car during a short stay.
Our little dog Pipkin was also keen to explore this new land, which was like Mars to her, as it was her first visit to Lonlay. We found we needed to bribe her almost constantly with treats to stay calm at our feet if we stopped for a glass of wine on the terrace of the bar/tabac or took her to lunch at the Relais.
One morning she ran loose out the door of where we were staying, and I was afraid she would wind up in the road in traffic. Lonlay is a relatively quiet village, but in the morning and late afternoon, it does see a fair amount of cars and enormous container-sized 18 wheelers delivering goods to the scattered villages. Fortunately, she ran back to me on the green just a few minutes after her disappearance and greedily ate the end of the baguette I had for her!

The Relais de l'Abbaye restaurant

Lovely view of the square and the abbey from the terrace of the bar/tabac

A gift of pamphlets to prepare for longer stays

The Relais de l'Abbaye restaurant is a surprise for visitors. The front section on rue du Centre looks like a casual coffee shop, but more formal tables are laid out in a light-filled room at the back, and outdoor tables are available in fine weather. The young couple who run it (husband is the chef and his wife is the hostess and waitress) are very friendly and hard-working. The restaurant is only open for lunch Monday through Friday, but we went every day we could, as the meals are delicious and varied. You can have a starter and main dish or main and dessert with wine and coffee for only about 15 euros, with a choice from among three starters and three mains. Or you can have all three courses for just a little more.
An example of what you might have: a choice of cold terrine of salmon, hot quiche or salad with gésiers, followed by either pork roast, rumsteak with pepper sauce or sandre (a flaky fresh water fish) in sorrel sauce. Your choice of red, white or rosé wine in a small carafe.
A very genial place, so inviting and enticing for both local folks and visitors. One day when we were there, they served lunch not only for the normal number of tables (about 10) but also for a group of 20 who had reserved one long table and a special menu in advance!
Down closer to the abbey and adjacent to the bakery, the bar/tabac is run by the wife of the baker with help from an assistant in the morning hours. In the early evening, their terrace is a wonderful spot for an aperitif. We were warmly greeted as regulars after a few days, and the baker's wife gave us some pamphlets for exploring the surrounds of Lonlay on one of our next trips. She was very patient with our wiggly pup, and brought her a big plastic bucket to drink from.

Salle Sainte Thérèse on the right of the driveway down to the village green

Countryside farm on the road to Beauchêne

Poster for "The Mauritanian," a 2021 film based on the true story of an innocent held in Guantanamo. "Désigné Coupable" ("Presumed Guilty" or "Deemed Guilty") in French.

Lest you think that entertainment in Lonlay l'Abbaye is limited to eating and drinking and countryside walks (as refreshing as those can be), there are often recent movies being shown in the community center (the Salle Ste Thérèse) and other dinners, dances or plays organized by social groups in Lonlay and the surrounding towns.
While we were there, we were fortunate to hear a choral concert of Renaissance sacred music by the composer Josquin Desprez in the setting of the abbey. The choral group Metamorphoses is known for performing Desprez's classic works, particularly this year, 500 years after his death. They were more popular than we expected, because about 200 people attended the Sunday afternoon concert.
Before the concert, we chatted on the bar/tabac terrace with some ladies who had driven from Alençon (about an hour away) to hear the music. We were impressed that they had come prepared for the afternoon with their own jar of paté and cutlery, so all they needed was bread from the bakery and a glass of wine.

As is the case with all of the restaurants, bars and group gatherings indoors anywhere in France at the moment, we were asked to show our proof of vaccination "passe sanitaire" before entering the abbey. We sat masked at the very back of the church. Acoustics were a bit problematic for the contrapuntal music, but some contemporary work inspired by Desprez at the end was glorious. The singers were all very accomplished and the audience appreciated them very much.
If you are interested, this is an example of their singing Desprez's work on Youtube:

Pipkin, who had been left behind with a special soft-boiled egg in her dish as a bribe, was adorably quiet. We all went out for a walk after dark, and revelled in the peaceful quiet of the night.

Sunset from rue de Stogursey in Lonlay l'Abbaye

Our shadows on the Abbey

The quiet moonlit night

Coming soon...Update on our house. Remaining works to be done!

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The Plague Year - Waiting It Out

8/29/2020

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Street art in the 7th arrondissement

We have been fortunate, very fortunate, to be healthy and safe during this difficult year. We sorely miss Lonlay l'Abbaye, and have not been able to visit our village house there since last October. The coronavirus has been only one obstacle, but a constant one since March 2020.

Pipkin, our Cairn terrier puppy, after her operation

Before the plague hit Paris, however, we were otherwise occupied. For instance, our Cairn terrier puppy Pipkin had her sterilization operation in November. Several weeks of rehab at home. The onesie was supposed to be enough to keep her away from the stitches, but we had to put on the cone as well. She's a determined little thing.

In many ways, it was a glorious November. We were happy to relish the daily pleasures of Paris - her museums, restaurants, concerts and pastry shops.

Greengrocer on rue Cler

The autumn markets were full of marvelous mushrooms, chestnuts and mandarins. We could crowd cheek to jowl as we shopped, without fear.

The "Gilets Jaunes" continued to protest every Saturday, sometimes accompanied by destructive fools who smashed windows, set fires, and looted shops. By the end of the year, the Gilets Jaunes were periodically blocking highways near many cities throughout France and causing transit issues. The major unions called for general strikes, particularly in transportation, creating havoc in the train schedules and shutting down even the Paris metro system. There was general discontent with President Macron, and particularly in relation to his proposed changes to the French pension system. We did not feel we could count on being able to travel to Lonlay l'Abbaye without disruption.

But what did any of that matter, as it was Christmastime in Paris? Always a magical season, even if the transit strikes made it more difficult to get to our favorite places. In solidarity with other unions, the Paris Opera ballet company went on strike, and the performance we had planned to see on Christmas Eve was cancelled. Strikes are commonplace in France, though this one was prolonged, and impacted holiday plans for thousands of French who could not get out to visit their families in the provinces. Visiting Lonlay for Christmas was impossible. But we believed everything would reopen soon.

The metro, bus and train strikes continued into January. We began to use Ubers more frequently, and generally stayed closer to home on the cold short days. Near the end of January, the strikes were exhausted, but news of the deadly virus in Wuhan was disturbing. Like so many others, we feared the virus, but wanted to believe it would not spread to countries outside of China's orbit.

Bouillon Pigalle photo by Thierry Richard

For most of February, with the buses and the metro running again, we could enjoy the regular winter pleasures of Paris, visting friends, meeting for lunches and apéros, frequenting some of our favorite restaurants, neighborhoods and shops. We had family planning to visit us near the end of March. We thought we'd be able to get out to Lonlay l'Abbaye then with them, or at least by April. We continued to roam around Paris, but as the numbers of Covid-19 cases increased in neighboring Italy, we began to wear gloves on the metro and took hand wipes with us everywhere. No one was wearing masks then except for some of the Japanese tourists.

We began stocking up our cupboards and fridge, adding canned, frozen and prepared items that would keep longer, whereas previously we would have shopped daily. In early March, events for more than 5000 people were officially banned. How minimal a step that seems now! Our family members cancelled their planned trip from the U.S., all of us assuming they'd be able to reschedule in a few months.
On March 8, I wrote to a friend that I sensed things might be very different by the Ides of March. I could not comprehend how dramatic the difference would be! From one day to the next, March 15 to March 16, all restaurants, cafes, bars, shops and museums were closed. Sunday March 16 was a beautiful day and hundreds of people went to the parks to meet with their friends, trying to cope with these changes. After Sunday, the parks were closed as well. Macron told us that we were at war with this virus. Beginning on March 17, Paris went into an unprecedented lockdown.

The people of Paris disappeared. Apart from essential workers, the entire population was strongly urged to stay at home. Schools, businesses, hotels and offices were suddenly shut up tight. Only the food stores and pharmacies were allowed to stay open.
You've all been through similar shutdowns by now, but Paris was one of the first major cities to close up so completely. We had not known what to expect.
It was eerie during the day, and strangely beautiful at night, when I would hear only my footsteps on the normally hectic streets. No tourists taking photos of the Invalides or the shimmering Eiffel Tower. No sets of young people laughing along to their next drink. No elderly couples arm in arm.
Walking the dog, I was often the sole human to be seen for blocks on end. Masks were difficult to come by. Once in a great while, I would see someone wearing a mask on the street, and found it actually disturbing. My mind played tricks with me, and the masked people seemed like villains in a horror movie, popping up around the corners.

Pont de l'Alma - looking from the 7th arrondissement into the 8th

The bridges across the Seine and all of Paris's broad boulevards are normally clogged with city buses, tour buses, passenger vehicles, electric scooters, pedestrians and bicycles. Not in March, not in April, not for most of May. We were all in the great "confinement," holding our breath.

Even during the day, the only vehicles seen regularly were taxis, police cars, and ambulances. Passenger cars were few. As there was no traffic, we got used to crossing even the broad boulevards without ever waiting for the light. Paris became a different place altogether. A few oldtimers said that it reminded them of the Occupation.

I missed the cafes most of all, particularly in the early morning when I used to see the owners setting out their rattan chairs and tables as the sky turned pink in the distance. In so many ways, the cafes are the beating heart of Paris.

The storefronts were equally dispiriting. Some of the shopkeepers and restauranteurs put up signs in their windows. Most encouraged people to stay safe and said they would see us soon. A few were more poignant, offering help to their neighbors, or humorous. On the menu above: "Bat soup" and "Sautéd pangolin."

Day and night, we had to have our identification with us, and a paper stating our purpose for being outside on the street. Each "attestation" had to be signed, dated and with the time of each foray noted on it. Technically, you could use only one sheet of paper for each outing, but I sometimes fudged a bit going out so many times a day with our pup. We ran into frequent checkpoints where municipal employees or the police would ask to see our papers, particularly near the market streets. At some point, everyone was limited to going out for exercise only once a day for an hour, and further limited to a one kilometer radius from home. It was still ok to take Pipkin out multiple times a day, and I was grateful for the extra exercise.

The odd thing was that this empty Paris was stunningly beautiful. By April, the absence of cars and trucks had lowered air pollution levels, and the sky was Monet blue every day. The city was so quiet, as if we were living the legend of Sleeping Beauty in real life. A princess had pricked her finger, and she and all the inhabitants of this kingdom had fallen into a silent slumber.

Finally, by mid-May, we were released from confinement. France had flattened the curve, and Covid-19 infections were much diminished. Everyone was grateful to the medical teams who had endured and sacrificed during the surge. About the only time we saw our neighbors during the lockdown had been evenings at 8:00, when the windows had opened and the applause began for the doctors and their staff.

Masks could now be sold to the general public, and we all began wearing them more often, especially to the grocery store. We were happy to see the cafes open again and people smiling. Joseph and Pipkin and I enjoyed getting out beyond our one kilometer radius again. We were able to eat outside at the restaurant tables that now spilled into the streets, properly distanced. But even as museums, cinemas, stores and other indoor venues were allowed to open, we decided to hold back on going inside any public spaces.
After the long confinement, the summer vacation season brought a resurgence in virus cases as people could not resist having parties and going to newly opened bars and crowded beaches. The government does not want to shut the country down again, and inflict any further damage to the economy. We still have a long path to tread carefully before a vaccine may be available. On one recent day, France recorded almost 6000 new cases of Covid-19.
The city of Paris has now made mask-wearing mandatory in all public spaces, both indoors and outside - and even in private offices. We are optimistic that this and other measures will tamp down the spread of the virus, but our next visit to Lonlay l'Abbaye, using public transport, may still be months away.

Meanwhile, we will tough it out in Paris....

Photo from www.saisons-vives.com

And let the swallows enjoy the windowsills of our place in Lonlay l'Abbaye.

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Glorious Autumn in Lonlay l'Abbaye

11/3/2019

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The ostensible purpose of our visit to Lonlay l'Abbaye near the end of October was to receive a shipment of boxes from our storage unit near Paris to our tiny house. There was vague talk of beginning to sift through the photos and memorabilia the boxes contained, but the quiet magic of the country village redirected us to wander and ponder.

Because our village house still has no furniture, we stayed again at Sarah and Geoff's "Cobbler's House" (AirBnB), which is delightfully situated between the abbey and the commons area, close by the stream that runs through the village. The small commons orchard was full of apples, some still on the trees, and others piling up on the ground.

The owners of the Cobbler's House have collected old reminders of the original occupant's work. Old wooden clogs and shoemaker's tools are used as decorative elements, some inside and some outside the house.

The village commons area has been extended and improved, from what I last recall. There is a sweet new playground area, more picnic tables, and a gravel path that winds all the way up the hill past green lawns and chestnut trees. The people of the village, and their indefatigable mayor, Monsieur Derouet, make the village more attractive with each visit.

The view from the top of the hill is stunning and unspoilt. Makes me so happy! You can see the reddish roof and wooden frame of the old cider press in the center of some of the lawns, with the abbey behind.

This is the approach to the cider press from the other side of the commons.

Inside the cider press is the enormous stone wheel that would have crushed the apples into pulp and juice - much of the juice to be turned into cider - and some eventually used to make Calvados, my favorite digestif.

After a few sunny days, we had some clouds and rain, but the grey skies made the greens even more lush. This is the path that leads around the back of the abbey.

With the school closed for the "All Saints" holiday period, the village was in repose, but the delicious butcher/charcuterie shop was open, as well as the bar/tabac and the bakery.

Our banker, Monsieur Bouillaux, at Crédit Mutuel, was kind enough to spend nearly an hour with us, sorting out a problem with Électricité de France (EDF). So we were especially pleased that the bakery had a nice selection of eclairs and fruit tarts we could bring back to his office for him and his staff.

Everything we needed was within walking distance, including the general store. Once again, we did not bring a car. The ever-welcoming Monsieur LeBlond of La Bergerie in Sainte Opportune arranged for us to have drivers to and from the train station in Flers. It seems much more restful to us once we are there, to just stay within the village, though I know we will soon want to explore further parts of Normandy and Brittany we have not seen.

Three days in a row we had lunch at the charming village restaurant "Le Relais de l'Abbaye." The tower above is part of a residence that faces one of their windows. The Relais food is quite tasty, and a very good value with a quarter carafe of wine included with your meal. A couple of days we also had a "kir" to start. Kir is an aperitif of dry white wine with a few drops of cassis (blackcurrant liqueur).

This drink was already known in the Burgundy region of France as a "blanc-cassis" from the 19th century. After World War II, it was renamed the "kir" after Félix Kir, a Catholic priest and Resistance member who became mayor of Dijon. He delighted in serving this cocktail to visiting delegations to promote both Bourgogne Aligoté, the dry white wine of the region, and crème de cassis, also made in Burgundy.

Well, this is not our table at the Relais - just the only free photo of kirs I could easily find. A very pretty drink, and nice aperitif. After our second day of ordering them to start our meal at the Relais, I noticed two other tables that asked for them as well. Such trendsetters we are!

The abbey itself was open and welcoming, so we also made a visit inside.

In existence for many centuries, it has elements from the 11th century to the present - and a fair amount of mystery and dignity.

Joseph had read that the oldest part of the abbey was the transept, which is where I believe these finials atop their columns are located. Most likely they are restorations, but true to the originals.

The rams on the left remind me a bit of "Shaun the Sheep" from the Wallace & Gromit stop motion clay animation movies. On the right, could that be an image of wind or a fire-breathing lion? Whose tiny head is up in the corner there? Perhaps next summer we will take a guided tour of the abbey and see if there are any answers to these questions.

"Alright, but what about your house?" you ask (or perhaps you don't, but I will tell you anyway).

Électricité de France (EDF) has installed a thicker and more powerful electric source cable to give us the power we need for our appliances, but I did notice some new cracks in the mortar on the face of the house that seemed to emanate from where they drilled to put in the new line. Hmmm.

The dear little swallows have gone, but left behind their mud nests and a spattering of poop to remember them by. We are looking to find someone to clean this up before they return next spring. A tall ladder will be indispensable.

We did succeed in having our stored boxes of mementos, books, and family favorites like old toys moved into the study. The door to the bathroom here still opens, but this takes up much of the room. We will reduce the volume soon, and store the remainder in the attic once our builders have put in a floor up there. They are working on it now.

A few things got unpacked, and we took measurements and photos of the interiors of all the windows, so we can order curtain rods. We'd like to come back for a longer stay next time, perhaps to take delivery of some basic furniture.

We love every season in the village.

Below are several short videos from this visit that we've loaded to Youtube. We hope you will enjoy these moments too.