A harvest of apples on the village green
Unusually warm temperatures hovered over Lonlay l'Abbaye at the end of October and into early November. We were happy to have all that sun, along with the warmth of the people. As we stay in our house for longer periods, we have more opportunities to chat with some of the villagers.
This fellow spent several days harvesting the great variety of apples from the small orchard of trees on the village green. We spoke to him one day on the way to lunch, as we were curious about where the apples would end up. Were they destined for farm animals? "Ah, non." He smiled and described that he would be taking them to a distillery to be crushed for juice - and for Calvados, Normandy's famous brandy!
A lifelong resident, he also told us that at one time the village had had six bistrots, and he recounted that masses were held in the community room for years after the war until the abbey was finally restored.
A lifelong resident, he also told us that at one time the village had had six bistrots, and he recounted that masses were held in the community room for years after the war until the abbey was finally restored.
These ornamental berries grow on a tree in the place Jules Levée. So far as we know, they are not edible for humans, nor would they make a potable brandy. Our house is in the background on the right. We have finally met our next door neighbors who seem quite nice, and have spoken with a few other folks who wondered if we had moved in "en permanence." No, we still plan to stay most of the time in Paris, but perhaps with more and more time in Lonlay, as the quiet and simple pleasures are so appealing.
Large group setting at the Relais
Of course, one of our favorite pleasures is to visit the village restaurant, Le Relais de l'Abbaye, where the meals are always delicious and reasonably priced. The couple who run the restaurant are so good-humored, they managed to fit us in for lunch even when they were expecting this large group. We find it is definitely to our advantage to make a reservation in advance, as the restaurant grows in popularity, and we never know when they may be hosting a mini-convention!
We have no need to leave the village for well-prepared food, because in addition to the Relais and a well-stocked supermarket, the caterer at "Grenier à Sel" has amazing dishes ready to heat, like Poulet au Pays d'Auge (chicken sauted in Calvados and served over rice, carrots and mushrooms with a cream sauce) and Tagine d'agneau (tender slow cooked lamb in a gravy livened with North African spices).
The village bakery supplies us not only with baguettes, but with a whole range of savory and sweet creations that rival the Paris bakeries - an apéro bread with cheese and lardons, dark wheat bread with grains, brioche, financiers, and even California style donuts! The kind baker and his charming wife have been very welcoming to us. I find that my fear of speaking awkward French nearly evaporates when I begin to talk enthusiastically with these folks, especially about food. No wonder.
We have no need to leave the village for well-prepared food, because in addition to the Relais and a well-stocked supermarket, the caterer at "Grenier à Sel" has amazing dishes ready to heat, like Poulet au Pays d'Auge (chicken sauted in Calvados and served over rice, carrots and mushrooms with a cream sauce) and Tagine d'agneau (tender slow cooked lamb in a gravy livened with North African spices).
The village bakery supplies us not only with baguettes, but with a whole range of savory and sweet creations that rival the Paris bakeries - an apéro bread with cheese and lardons, dark wheat bread with grains, brioche, financiers, and even California style donuts! The kind baker and his charming wife have been very welcoming to us. I find that my fear of speaking awkward French nearly evaporates when I begin to talk enthusiastically with these folks, especially about food. No wonder.
In a small village, it's a good idea to be out of bed and out of your pajamas by at least 9:30 or 10:00 am, as people do tend to just stop by! That never happens in Los Angeles or Paris, where your friends always text or call to coordinate and be sure you are home. Here they know we are home if the lights are on! And we are always happy to meet new people and to reconnect with those we know. A lovely neighbor stopped by one day to see if we wanted to take part in the Christmas tree decorations that she and her friends will place all around the village next month. Oh yes, please!
We occasionally run into Mayor Derouet, the powerhouse motivator of the village, and enjoy speaking with him about all of the positive changes he envisions and brings to fruition that keep the village busy with commerce and full of life.
This visit we also had the opportunity to meet with his two able assistants in the Mairie, as they helped us apply for a construction permit to replace our existing windows. I love the old windows, but they are beyond repair, so we will be putting in new wooden custom-built windows that will be identical to these, except that they will have double panes to better keep out the cold.
The bureaucratic language is amusing to me. In English, we refer to the need to submit an application to obtain a "permit" for construction from local authorities. In French, you are submitting a "prior declaration," in the hopes of securing not permission exactly, but a "decision of non-opposition."
Part of the paperwork involved supplying some photos of our house showing its current windows (as above). The process is relatively simple but subject to a necessary review by the mayor's office as well as the "Architecte des Bâtiments de France" because our house is located close to a listed monument: the 11th century abbey.
We occasionally run into Mayor Derouet, the powerhouse motivator of the village, and enjoy speaking with him about all of the positive changes he envisions and brings to fruition that keep the village busy with commerce and full of life.
This visit we also had the opportunity to meet with his two able assistants in the Mairie, as they helped us apply for a construction permit to replace our existing windows. I love the old windows, but they are beyond repair, so we will be putting in new wooden custom-built windows that will be identical to these, except that they will have double panes to better keep out the cold.
The bureaucratic language is amusing to me. In English, we refer to the need to submit an application to obtain a "permit" for construction from local authorities. In French, you are submitting a "prior declaration," in the hopes of securing not permission exactly, but a "decision of non-opposition."
Part of the paperwork involved supplying some photos of our house showing its current windows (as above). The process is relatively simple but subject to a necessary review by the mayor's office as well as the "Architecte des Bâtiments de France" because our house is located close to a listed monument: the 11th century abbey.
The abbey is a magnet that draws us back at least once every visit, and is full of mystery
Old stone seats inside the porch, a sheltered entrance to the front door of the abbey
Stone heads above and on either side of the front door
Just inside the front door of the abbey - part of the transept
Portion of the wooden ceiling of the transept
Having read that the transept was the oldest part of the reconstructed abbey, Joseph and I proceeded to have a lively disagreement about exactly which part was considered the transept. This disagreement, aided and abetted by diagrams on iphones and loose talk of other architectural terms, may have gone on for as long as half an hour (and our daughter always says, "What do you two talk about?").
Sparing you the blow-by-blow account, the transept in most Catholic churches is that part of the church closest to the main altar that runs as a rectangle across the center of the nave at 90 degrees, creating the form of a "cross." (+) In Lonlay l'Abbaye however, the transept is the broad rectangle that spreads just beyond the entrance and supports the tower. The rest of the abbey follows in a long semi-oval shape with side altars.
Sparing you the blow-by-blow account, the transept in most Catholic churches is that part of the church closest to the main altar that runs as a rectangle across the center of the nave at 90 degrees, creating the form of a "cross." (+) In Lonlay l'Abbaye however, the transept is the broad rectangle that spreads just beyond the entrance and supports the tower. The rest of the abbey follows in a long semi-oval shape with side altars.
Pietà over relief showing the death of Saint Benoit
Dark marble square on the St. Benoit side altar
Relief showing the death of St. Benoit (St. Benedict). He is supported by his fellow monks as his soul flies to heaven in the rays heading toward the top right corner.
Having been raised Catholic, and having spent many hours surrounded by Catholic imagery in schools and in churches, it still amazes me to learn more about some of the Catholic saints who are perhaps more celebrated in Europe than in the U.S.
This side altar is dedicated to St. Benoit. I had no idea who St. Benoit was, until a bit of research revealed that he is whom we know as St. Benedict, author in 516 of the Rule of Benedict, which directed monks to "Ora et Lavora" - "Pray and Work." Much of that prayer was prescribed even for the darkest hours of the night such that many lengthy prayers could not be read (at least until wax candles were invented in the 1300s), so had to be committed to memory. Benedictine monks were the founders of this abbey in Lonlay l'Abbaye many centuries ago.
As a side note, St. Benoit or Benedict is the patron saint of speleologists, most likely because he spent the first few years of his own monastic life as a young man living in a cave with almost no contact with the outside world.
This side altar is dedicated to St. Benoit. I had no idea who St. Benoit was, until a bit of research revealed that he is whom we know as St. Benedict, author in 516 of the Rule of Benedict, which directed monks to "Ora et Lavora" - "Pray and Work." Much of that prayer was prescribed even for the darkest hours of the night such that many lengthy prayers could not be read (at least until wax candles were invented in the 1300s), so had to be committed to memory. Benedictine monks were the founders of this abbey in Lonlay l'Abbaye many centuries ago.
As a side note, St. Benoit or Benedict is the patron saint of speleologists, most likely because he spent the first few years of his own monastic life as a young man living in a cave with almost no contact with the outside world.
A similar side altar depicts the Annunciation
St. Opportune
Now, I cannot be absolutely certain, but I think this carving of a beautiful woman alongside yet another altar is meant to be St. Opportune. Opportune was a lady born into a noble family of the Orne who became an abbess in the 8th century. She was renowned for her goodness, her intellect and administrative skills. Even during her lifetime, she was credited with miracles of healing. In more recent years, families who have not been able to conceive a child have credited her with granting their wishes.
Life was indeed nasty, brutish and short in the early times. Opportune's brother, the bishop of Sées, was assassinated by a cousin who wished to succeed to his position of power. Having buried her brother at her convent or abbey, Opportune passed away thirteen days later. She saw visions of Saint Cecile, Saint Lucie and the Virgin Mary at the moment of her passing, making her a patron saint of the "good death."
Life was indeed nasty, brutish and short in the early times. Opportune's brother, the bishop of Sées, was assassinated by a cousin who wished to succeed to his position of power. Having buried her brother at her convent or abbey, Opportune passed away thirteen days later. She saw visions of Saint Cecile, Saint Lucie and the Virgin Mary at the moment of her passing, making her a patron saint of the "good death."
There are always more fascinating carvings and objects to explore in the abbey, but let's leave it for now and return to the village surrounds and our tiny house.
Banks of the Égrenne with the abbey in the far upper right
The Égrenne running between the abbey and the village green and orchard
In late October, though the apples were ripe and being harvested, the lawns everywhere were as green as the fields of Ireland, and initially there was little sign of any color in the leaves, even along the country roads outside of the village.
Part of a farm near Lonlay l'Abbaye
Anticipating changing temperatures, the villagers and the Mairie made sure to celebrate the season with displays of gourds and hardier flowers.
Planters full of pansies ("pensées) do well in cool weather
The prettiest parking space
Inevitably, as the rains came with colder mornings and evenings, we began to see autumn transform the colors of the village and the fields beyond.
Ivy on a village house
A picnic table in sight of the abbey
Some color on the road to Beauchêne
Stone wall off the road to Beauchêne
Fantastic red color inside a private gate
The streets began to look and feel chillier, and we hurried indoors after each walk.
Joseph and Pipkin coming home
Enjoying our small kitchen
And our cozy living/dining room with a new Ikea floor lamp. All the heaters on!
Turning our attention to the upstairs, we made progress furnishing the bedroom as Joseph patiently assembled these Ikea nightstands (with drawers!) and lamps. I replaced the bulbs on the chandelier with lower wattage long lasting LED bulbs that won't overwhelm the room with light, but provide more atmosphere for the darker days and longer nights.
Making a start on the bedroom walls
Thinking about colors and furnishings for the tiny tv room/study
We began to unbox and to hang some of our favorite artwork. Of course, this is all subject to being moved about, but it feels good to make a start at filling in the blank walls.
So autumn flows and fades
Good night to the harvest warmth and longer days
We are ready for winter
And the night
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