post for sarah--avocado soup

For enough for two people with leftovers for the following day (for at least two):

2 avocados, ripe but not yukky

2 cloves of garlic

1 large or two medium shallots

2 big limes

2-3 cups chicken broth

large glob of either thick yogurt (like Greek) or sour cream or creme fraiche

salt, pepper, possibly more lime juice

Chop garlic and shallots coarsely, squeeze limes, put garlic and shallot in blender or food processor with salt, mince. Add avocados and lime juice, blend, add chicken broth, alternating with yogurt, add some pepper or tabasco, taste. add more salt or yogurt or lime, to taste. Chill.

If you want to be fancy, put chopped chives or Italian parsley on top to impress people. Or I suppose you could put garlic croutons, but I've never done it.

Love, Mom

back in Kentucky take 2

I'm having some withdrawal symptoms here. While there are things that are in season and should be taken advantage of (is that a proper construction?) like heirloom tomatoes, enormous zucchini (is there actually anybody at my house who will consider eating this? I mean ENORMOUS, they are giving the stuff away sort of everywhere), and green tomatoes, Martin and I have had garlic soup three times in the last four days. Friday everybody agreed it was too thin. Part of the problem was that I browned the first bunch of garlic I put in (it seems to be better if you put garlic in twice). It was pretty good, though. And when I made it again on Saturday, I was more careful. I didn't brown it, just cooked it until it smelled, and then put in salt, some flour, some pepper, and a great deal more garlic. Didn't brown any of that, either. Cooked it awhile, put in water, more salt and pepper, cooked it awhile, put in egg whites mixed with a bit of wine vinegar, cooked it some more, finally put in some egg yolks mixed with a fair amount of vinegar. More salt, pepper. Used rather more flour that time. Also leftover bread. Very good.

This is one of those dishes created to deal with food shortages by poor people, isn't it? You've got garlic growing wild in the garden, some duck or goose fat sitting around, a bit of leftover dry bread and/or some flour. One egg, and a family to feed. What do you do? You stretch the egg (or a couple of them) as far as they will go. I suspect that it got started using leftover wine as well, too far gone to drink with food, but it tasted pretty good in the "potage".

The thing is that it is not only very good, but VERY good for you. Hard to beat. And not worth a **** the day after, as Martin and I learned yesterday (Sunday) when we ate some left over.

My next problem is that I want some of that mayonnaise I had in France that came in that squat jar that was sooooooo good. I was thinking about making some tuna salad today, from canned tuna, and got stuck on the mayonnaise issue. The ONLY mayo in my house here is Hellman's, which is about as good as you can get here in Kentucky. It's NOT the same as the stuff I was getting in France. So what's to be done? I didn't have tuna salad for lunch; I had a can of sardines (I need very badly to lose some more weight, too, but that's another issue). I may have to start actually making my own mayonnaise, not an ideal approach, but...

And then there was the aioli I bought in a jar at the Intermarche. I wasn't optimistic about it at first because I had read the ingredient list wrong, and didn't think it had all that much garlic in it, but OMG, that stuff is GOOD. It makes the aioli I make here taste anemic, and it's a LOT less trouble.

So tonight Martin and I had (a) fried green tomatoes (it's August and we're in Kentucky, so there!), Mexican chicken breasts (chicken breasts with chilis on it, sauteed in olive oil), and Reblochon. So how many food heritages did we hit there?!?

Lillie

Larry McMurtry

I now know that I have more than I thought in common with Larry McMurtry. If the name doesn't ring a bell, he wrote "The Last Picture Show", "Lonesome Dove", "Terms of Endearment" (I hated that book, but the immediate world seemed to adore the movie), the screenplay for " Brokeback Mountain", which won him an Oscar, and a few other things. He's from West Texas, near Wichita Falls, went to Rice University, and was an English professor there when we were undergraduates. Cousin Bob Martin had him for Freshman English.

Turns out he didn't graduate from Rice; his undergraduate career got de-railed there by, are you ready for this?, Math 100. He left and got a B.A. from North Texas State University, came back and got an M.A. from Rice and was eventually a professor there for awhile.

My budding career as a mathematician got de-railed by, you guessed it, Math 100 at Rice University. I skulked off to get a VERY undistinguished B.A. in French Literature.

At least I have good company.

Lillie

Back in Kentucky

We flew back to Kentucky yesterday (I say "we flew", that's an oversimplification). Had to get up early, drive to Bordeaux, return the car, take a plane to Paris (Roissy CDG), change terminals, walk several miles, take another plane to Atlanta (10 hours in a sardine can), go through immigration and customs and go back through security (third time for the day) but THIS time I unfortunately had a small bottle of water I'd purchased at CDG, and then we flew to Lexington, Martin met us and drove us home. It was a long day, but I read Sarah Waters's book The Little Stranger on the flight. The airlines seem to have thought of yet more ways to get money out of people. First, it turns out that Air France will promise you a seat with actual leg room on a flight if you pay them an extra 50 euros. Second, it appears that Delta has reduced the weight you are allowed, even as a Medallion flyer--I suspect effective July 1--as what we brought back actually weighed LESS THAN what we took, and we got hit with a 50 euro overweight charge.

And THEN, to add insult to injury, on the translatlantic flight, they are no longer allowing free booze in economy class (aka "Sardine" class). You can have either one can of beer or one glass of wine with your meal without paying extra, but spirits and extra beer or wine comes with a hefty price tag. They do still let you have water without paying extra.

I shouldn't complain; the flights themselves were uneventful and they didn't lose any of our luggage.

A followup to the wedding: Jim Krupa seems to have hung the big sign that says "Drop off location for wedding" (or whatever exactly it is) in the barn at the door to the biggest chicken coop.

Back in Kentucky it is typical July weather: hazy, hot and humid. People in southwest france complain when the humidity gets up over 50%--it does get very hot, but always seems to cool off so sleeping is comfortable--and I always tell them they should visit Kentucky in the summertime.

Lillie

Night market, Cadouin, July 27

So we went to the night market at Cadouin again tonight. Lots of fun, good food, although the oyster guy has apparently lost his lease on his spot because of problems with his source or problems with its lack of germs or something (sob...I did want oysters...). so I had moules frites again, some wine, the local plonk (e.g., Bergerac rose chilled and Bergerac red, not chilled). It is, I must say, not a bad way to spend an evening. Ken and Val Day were there, as were Paul and Pam. None of the other usual suspects. Phil had this dish that is a piece of pain de campagne (country bread) with a disk of goat cheese, a couple of walnuts, and a drizzle of acacia honey on it, heated up in a microwave (micro-onde, sounds better in French, but what you'd do in another setting is put it in an oven or grill over a fire). I had to settle for a crepe with Grand Marnier, which I guess isn't too bad (the bread/goat cheese/walnut/honey concoction was gone by the time I wanted it, and I did NOT want a whole one, so....)

Tomorrow will be crazy. Gotta go to the bank and sort things out there. Phil has to stay here and sort things out with the technician who will deal with the sewer (I hope; Phil knows quite a lot of French but doesn't communicate all that well with the locals who speak Occitan; I don't either, but it's a bit easier for me, I must say, so maybe he won't get here until after I get back).

Have to get some more bread, to make smoked salmon sandwiches for Wednesday (Delta flight, NOT Air France, we leave from Bordeaux at 1:30 p.m., go to CDG, and leave there at 4 something, on Delta, need FOOD...). These will go along with our pate en croute from the boucherie on the square in Lalinde, e.g., the one with the wonderful meats in it (almost certainly pork and duck, along with pistachios and Lord only knows what else) and the foie gras down the middle. If you have to suffer on a trans-Atlantic trip, you might as well eat well, I always figure.

And then we are going to Ken and Val Day's for lunch (12:30 for 1:00, as the Brits always say...), a swim maybe, and whatever. I need to get a great deal done before we go there, because I probably won't get much done after we get back. So there.

The weather has been gorgeous. Hot in the daytime, but not too hot, and what they consider humid here is NOT what I consider humid (although 88 and 65% humidity is a bit uncomfortable, but it's been that hot only ONE day since I've been here, and FOUR days since we've been here, what with me and Martin going to England and all that). Nothing like the HHH days we get in Kentucky (hazy, hot and humid), and NOTHING AT ALL like the dreadful heat and humidity in Texas. It has NEVER been so hot and humid at night that it was hard to sleep.

According to my sources (all British), it is lovely here until usually late November, when it gets cold and damp. Like you can eat outside in the evening in September, October and some of November. So there. Does anybody out there want to come over here with me later (but not much later) this year?

Do I want to teach this year/next semester/next year? Don't know...life is short, and I fear I'm not bored yet...

Best, Lillie

sewers and other chores

It seems they are going to put a sewer through our street here, sometime this fall. Jeannette told me I needed to go have a chat with the Mairie about it; I have been putting this off because I HATE having to talk business type things with people in French. Turned out, it wasn't so bad. I went in, finally got the lady there to understand what I wanted to discuss, and she said, oh, it'll happen, November or December, you don't have to do anything. They will put a tap-on line (but she called it something else) in for you; you don't have to do anything. And then I said we won't be here in November and December, and this put it in a bit of a different light. So she went and got a "technician (some big guy named Jean)" and told him, and he asked where I lived. I told him the name of the street and said I was between Mme. Dumas and M. Esteve, and he said ah, in the little house up at the top of the stairs, and I said yes. So he is coming to have a look tomorrow morning. I assume he will show up.

And then there are the keys. Which are expensive, and one of them didn't work, so I had to take it back to get it re-ground. Fortunately I dealt with a guy who shall we say seemed more competent than the one last week. We'll see if the bloody thing actually works.

miscellaneous monday 27 july

We have to leave on Wednesday. I did (some) chores today. Turns out the bank is closed on Monday, so I have to go tomorrow. I need to take one of the keys back and get it re-done. I do hate that hardware store. Went to the post office to get them to forward our mail (about 1 bill/month, 2 max). It'll cost 100 euros, so I've got to go to plan b. The cartridges I bought for the HP 4280 printer we brought with us won't work, although it says on the box that they are for the HP 4280. And P can't find the set-up CD for the printer, I guess we're out of luck.

Had along chat with Jeannette yesterday. She's been keeping a low profile because she has sciatica. I understand completely; it's the pits. She was also telling me all about our neighbors across the street (in rapid Occitan/French, so I didn't catch a lot of it), and it is juicy. I am not going to disclose it here. I also commented that the lady does more laundry than anybody else I've ever seen, considering that it's just the two adults living there. To which Jeannette said, it's not all laundry; she always has a sheet or blanket positioned down there so Jeannette can't see into their kitchen. It's true; she showed me. He's been out a lot lately in his new "quad", which is basically a motorcycle for old men, with four wheels.

Our flight across the Atlantic on Wednesday is on Delta, not Air France, so food is in order. We're taking some of that wonderful pate en croute from the butcher in Lalinde, and also some smoked salmon sandwiches. For lunch today we had leftover new potatoes, lentilles de Puy (from the butcher) and stuffed tomatoes (also from the butcher). We're going to the night market at Cadouin tonight, and I do hope the oyster guy is there this time. Last time I had to make do with moules frites. Sad, isn't it.

I still have to visit the Mairie and tell them to include us in the sewer when they put the line through, and go get this key redone. And wash more clothes. And pack. And finish cleaning out the fridge. Ugh. And buy some Reblochon (for Martin) and Roquefort (for us) to take back to the US. I decided not to try to smuggle fresh foie gras into the US.

York

So it looks like I totally forgot to say anything about our two days in York and Kenilworth. Martin wanted to go to York, and I wanted to see Peter and Sylvia Hogarth, our friends from the sabbatical year in York way back when Martin was only one year old. And we had to figure out how to get us to our respective airports (Heathrow and Stansted) on Wednesday morning. So, we drove Monday from Lincoln to York, a 1.5 hour drive, and went directly to the Yorvik Museum, the reconstructed street (Coppergate) from the Viking village they unearthed when they were building the shopping center above. It's been renovated and updated, and was much more interesting than I remember it. I'd gotten reserved tickets for 11:00 a.m., and we were of course late, partly because I missed the Park and Ride place and ended up parking actually in York (9 pounds 20 pence for four hours! or maybe it was 9 pounds 10 pence...it was a LOT). But they let us go to the head of the queue at the museum anyway, and it was good; I have a couple of decent photos from the visit.

After we left the Yorvik Museum, we met Peter and Sylvia for lunch, and then we visited the Minster, after which we left for Kenilworth, partly because our time was up at the car park. The photo just up there to the right is the Shambles in York, and photo below is the Minster with Peter and Sylvia in front of it.

Last saturday in Couze, for the time at least

I am trying to decide how to waste my day. I did clean the bathroom on the main floor. Took a stab at the cobwebs and the floor in the living room. I would love to clean the crystals on the light fixtures in the living room, but that requires something dependable to stand on; for some reason, they bother me more than the floors do. It's a lovely day, dry, sunny, not very hot. Tomorrow is supposed to be a scorcher.

I think I may go shopping. We need some more of those "hairloom" (heirloom) tomatoes. Am going to cook that foie gras I bought the other day at great expense, and need to do something different with this one. (it's raw, shrink wrapped, rather than canned).

later, lillie

Friday, July 24

So today we decided to go somewhere, and since we've been to all the chateaux around here, and I didn't really want to go to another prehistoric cave, and I NEVER want to visit a gorge, we ended up going to Figeac, which is, according to the guidebooks, interesting. The guy who discovered the Rosetta stone came from Figeac. The real one is in the British Museum, of course (they stole almost everything), but there is a reconstruction that is HUGE in Figeac. It's a trek from here, though, and by the time we got there, it was lunch time and I was demanding food. Our first impression, though, was that it looked like Bergerac. It isn't like Bergerac. Much more interesting.

So the Tourist Office is 13th century, and just

behind it is a shop selling regional products

, e.g., foie gras, etc.

I realize the positioning of these photos is pretty bad, but hey, I'm doing the best I can.

So then we went (as I mentioned earlier) in search of food (and drink, at this point, as I have lost my green water bottle with the good lid). We ended up at a place called the Sphinx, where the menu looked interesting, and we could eat in the old market place. After a bit of a wait, however, which we spent thus:

We both had the salmon tartare (with both raw fresh and smoked salmon), seasoned with basil and olive oil, and served on a salad, for a first course. For the second course I had the tuna (overcooked), and phil had the sausage, both served with saffron rice garnished with some veg. A pichet (small jug) of the local red wine, plus some H2O. For dessert he had the lemon tarte, and I had sorbet cassis, to which I am addicted. And then coffee. And time for a nap, except we had to tour the town. So we followed the indicted circuit, except we went up to the top to the Eglise St. Puy first, as then we were able to basically go down hill. All the buildings (at least many, many of the old ones) seemed to have three or four floors (ground floor, two or three upper floors for living) and then a top open but roofed terrace. I've seen those before but never sort of all over a town. And clearly original. Don't know whether they were used originally for eating out when the weather was warm, or what. It appears that people eat in them now, and also use them to dry laundry, etc.

The town started out as an abbey town, with the Abbaye de Sainte Saveur as the cornerstone. Huge church. Took 300 years to build. Building styles clearly changed while they were building it.

I got tired. Demanded that we leave.

After we got home, it became clear that we would have to eat something for dinner, so cheese (brie, au lait cru, of course), bread, heirloom tomatoes, sliced peaches with Armagnac and creme fraiche, the red wine left from last night (Ste. Estephe). Not bad for leftovers.

Lillie

Food on Thursday night

The oysters and flounder were wednesday night. Last night we had skate (raie over here), which P said he doesn't like. Instead of just sauteeing it, I actually looked up a couple of recipes. Found one by Elizabeth David (English grande dame on the subject of food, of yesteryear), and another by Daniel Boulud (very much contemporary, chef at "Daniel", one of the many places we can't afford to go to in NYC). They said the same thing. So I put it in salt water, brought it to a boil, and simmered it for 5 minutes. Drained it, skinned it, put it back in the pan with more cold salt water, lots of vinegar, and herbs. Brought it to a boil and drained it. Then I made this blackened butter, put drained capers and red wine vinegar in it, poured it over the fish, put a bit of parsley on it, and served it with the ubiquitous petites pommes de terre nouvelles (small new potatoes, boiled, drained, dried, with butter and parsley...died and gone to heaven good). Some heirloom tomatoes sliced and dressed. The skate was great. P took back all the bad things he's said about the poor fish.

We've been eating so late that I have trouble eating a full meal. You'd think I'd lose weight, but I haven't.

back in Couze (again, I think)

So the battle of the cobwebs is ongoing. And I was gone only a week, but the bugs/detritis/whatever in the shower is pretty amazing. As is the cobweb/grunge on the floor factor.

P wants to do something about the fan in the kitchen, which, I admit, does make too much noise. On the other hand, the mildew problem while still a problem, is not nearly as bad as it was. (folks, it was BAD!). M. Theo Vontobel is coming on Tuesday to discuss the other repairs needed to the plumbing (like a hot water line downstairs in the cave, proper caulking upstairs around the tub, venting upstairs...). I assume we can get Jeannette to let him in when he comes to fix these things, and whatever else needs fixing.

And this guy Mark, with his English girlfriend Robin, are coming on Sunday morning to discuss other things, like fixing the drywall downstairs, and a few dozen other things. Maybe he will actually do good work...

I got a slew of keys made today, to the tune of 69 euros. That's $100. I need to get Pam to get Rowena to find our set of keys; she says she doesn't have any, but hey, that's not true. And Pam has the assignment to sell Rowena's house/farm. So maybe she can get the keys back, when Rowena actually has to move out, and discovers that she has a set of keys to our house...

Today at the market I bought a whole fresh foie gras. I suspect that I will cook it soon. Will keep you posted; this probably means several more pounds.

We need a couple of screens; one for the cave, to block off the toilet, and one for upstairs, to block off the bathroom area.

We need another fan. Although we have two, this is southwest France, and it gets HOT. There's a fan upstairs in our bedroom, and a second down in the cave, which we have to move up to the main floor to cool that off. We need another fan.

Lillie

food today (Thursday, 23 July 2009)

So what we had for lunch was some bread, some wine (Pecharmant), some rillettes de canard (purchased at the market), some sliced tomatoes ("heirloom"), olives (market), brie au lait cru, goat cheese from LeClerc (the cheese that looks like a stick of butter, but MUCH tastier), and some Roquefort (again, lait cru, Societe, WONDERFUL). I confes to having some iced tea along with all this, but that's a personal quirk.

For dinner at about 9:00 p.m. we had that skate/raie I bought at the market. This time I didn't just dip it in flour and sautee it. P had allowed as how he hadn't had any skate that he actually liked. So I looked up a couple of recipes and actually followed one, by Dan Boulud. It involved parboiling the skate, scraping the stuff off the outside, bringing it to a boil again with vinegar and spices, and then serving it with black butter, capers, and parsley. Oh, yes, deglazing the butter and capers with red wine vinegar. Very good. With a St. Estephe wine, new potatoes with butter and parsley, salad of "heirloom" tomatoes, onions, and radishes (okay, so that's a bit out of the ordinary, however, the radishes looked good, P loves them, and so I used them...also with wine vinegar and walnut oil), also some chopped parsley. Lord, how I hate these plastic cutting boards. Somebody please tell me why I don't toss the damned thing.

Lillie

food back here in Couze

Well, P had told me about buying some rillettes de canard at the Intermarche (the supermarket in Lalinde), and how great they were. Today I went to the Thursday market in Lalinde and bought some raie (skate), butter, brie (both au lait cru, raw milk), tomates a l'ancienne (what the old farmer in Bourbon county calls "heirloom tomatoes", emphasis on the 'h'), some very new potatoes, things like that. Also a jar of rillettes de canard. I can make this stuff. It's what is left over on the duck after you cut off the breasts and make confit de canard out of the legs; I think what you need to do at this point is to cook the carcass (salted and peppered) somehow in duck fat, and then scrape off all the meat. And you have rillettes. At least that's what I plan to try. It's all in keeping with the philosophy of not wasting ANY thing.

Lillie

food

So somebody asked what I did with the oysters and flounder (although I'm still not totally certain that's what is was...). What I did with the oysters was to bully Phil into opening them (there were 10), and putting them on plates. We had slices of lemon and Tabasco sauce to put on them, and a baguette to sop up the brine left in the shell. It was lovely. Pecharmant red wine with it. (yes, yes, you're supposed to drink white wine with things like this, preferably very dry white...however, we mostly drink very dry red with EVERYTHING!)

I dredged the flounder in flour (after I'd salted and peppered it), and sauteed it in butter (the wonderful stuff I get over here), and EVOO (as Rachel Ray has labeled Extra Virgin Olive Oil). And that was all. We had a green salad. Aioli out of a jar on it (and the aioli you can get in the supermarket here is WONDERFUL, as is the tartar sauce and the mayonnaise, which makes Hellman's look like amateurs...it is almost the same as making it from scratch), and it was great.

Lillie

Belton House

So after we visited Isaac Newton's birthplace, we went to Belton House, which was on the way back to Lincoln. Scenes from several Jane Austen productions have been filmed here, and it's lovely, and I'd never heard of it before. The odd thing is that the people running the place clearly don't push this fact; I suspect they could attract many additional visitors if they would. It's a lovely 18th century mansion. There were people playing cricket on the front lawn. The National Trust gift shop was very nice. There were facilities all over the place. A restaurant. The house is magnificent, and is being constantly restored; they are currently working on restorations of the kitchens, laundry, and staff quarters. It is a magnificent place, and I'd never heard of it before...

Woolsthorpe and Belton House

So one day Martin and visited Woolsthorpe, the birthplace of Isaac Newton (need I explain how uninterested Martin was in Woolsthorpe? but I let him sleep in the car on the way to the place), and Belton House, a seventeenth (or is it eighteenth?) century great house that has been the setting for scenes from several of the Jane Austen films/TV series.

So the interesting thing about the photo above

left is that they are selling pieces of limbs from Newton's apple tree (above right), little 1.5" pieces of twigs made into key chains or something for about 6 pounds each. While it is indeed the original apple tree that Isaac Newton was observing when he "discovered" (e.g., figured out) gravity while he was back in Lincolnshire while they had shut down Cambridge University because of a plague outbreak, it does seem a bit ridiculous to purchase a bit of the tree. At least it does to me.

His house is a typical landed "lower" gentry house:

It was all interesting. And Martin was patient.

Lillie

back in Couze, 23 july 09

I'm back in Couze and, unfortunately, have to go back to the US next Wednesday. England was good. My hotel was lovely and historic, the car I ended up with was a Peugeot 308 SW (six speed wagon, with AC and a sunroof). It turned out that this was NOT the car I was supposed to have. However, this was not exactly my fault. In typical English fashion, I was given a sealed packet with the location of my rental car on it, and told to go get it, that the car would have the key in it. It did. It was a nice car, especially after I managed to figure out (a) how to get it in reverse and (b) how do manage all six forward gears, especially using my left hand. I only caught myself driving on the right side of the road twice, and I only drove the wrong way on one way streets in Lincoln twice. In both cases, I figured I could talk my way out of it. It was for about half a block, and I didn't have a clue how to get to where I needed to be (up there at that next street...) without going the wrong way on this one.

And then, when it came time to turn the car in at Stansted, it turned out that I was supposed to be driving an Opel (smaller than the Peugeot) but, as I pointed out, and as the attendant agreed, I had done exactly what I had been told to do.

So there.

The other interesting incident with the British mentality was at the Cathedral at the coffee hour after the Sunday morning communion service (which included, I might add, a really nice sermon from the dean, perhaps a bit longer than absolutely necessary, but incredibly broad-minded IMHO). They were selling used books and a Lincoln Cathedral cookery book (on cursory inspection, seriously mediocre, but I tend to buy these things, as the proceeds usually go to good causes). Turned out I couldn't find my wallet/purse, the coin purse with the actual cash in it. I suspected that I'd left it in my room, and asked one of the choir mothers if I could borrow 10 pounds; she said yes, and gave me a ten pound note. I bought the book; the lady selling it was absolutely horrified when I said, well, I'm pretty sure it's in my hotel room, and it's only money, not the wallet with my credit cards in it. She was truly horrified.

So there. My coin purse was in my hotel room...

Lillie

wednesday 22 July

I'm back in Couze after a long day of travel and a fun but, shall we say, not restfull, couple of days. I am also heartened to get a couple of messages fussing at me for not writing for awhile, and writing me via email to tell me they are enjoying my blog. RIght now it's late, I'm tired, tomorrow I have to (a) go to the market, (b) figure out some interesting new place to visit because we're leaving in a week, and (c) organize people to fix the plumbing (not done yet!), repair the wall in the bathroom downstairs (ditto), look after the house while we're back in the US (perhaps I shouldn't go back! anybody want to come over here and stay with me? and then go back with me sometime later? I can't do it by myself), (d) clean the place and get ready to leave in a week.

After Phil picked me up at the (!) Bergerac Airport (at least it's not as bad as Stansted, however, it's actually smaller and in a lot of ways even more irritating), we went to LeClerc, this sort of super-Walmart-wannabe, sort of. We bought Phil some more printer ink (a cartridge), returned his size 43 sneakers I bought him for 10 euros to use for yard work, but they were too small, bought him some bigger ones (also size 43, but they cost 3 euros more), and bought fish (oysters and flounder), salad and bread for dinner. Came back and made dinner. It's hot. Maybe it'll rain and cool off. It was cloudy, wet, windy and COLD in England.

More later. I will write about the other stuff we did in England.

Lillie

observations sunday 19th

Why is English food so uniformly lousy? They seem to admire French food enormously, and try to emulate it, which I don't think is all that hard, but it falls seriously flat here. I decided I was going to have something that wasn't fried yesterday evening, and went to a place that was a pub with "serious" food. Service was good, the place was very nice, the food was expensive (it always is), and I ordered some grilled fish served with pureed celeriac (celery root) and roasted radishes and beans. The beans were good, French longish green beans, cooked perfectly. Roasted radishes? Huh? The pureed celeriac was okay but uninspired. The fish was a piece of fish grilled and plopped on top of the rest, which were arranged nicely. It could have used some seasoning. It was cooked well, but needed salt, pepper, lemon, anything... and this was $20+. The glass of red was okay but it was 6 pounds, e.g., another $10.

And then there's the stuf that's really not good. Too much is fried. Fish and chips usually is breaded, fried fish, fried potatoes, and green peas. It's good, and I guess you need a lot of starch to get through an English winter, but...

Lillie

19 July 09 cromwell and lincoln cathedral

Cromwell did a real job on the cathedral in Lincoln. They stripped all the brasses from the tombs in the cathedral, trashed most of the statuary on the outside, destroyed almost all of the stained glass. It was evidently a capital crime to try to rescue any of the glass, but townsfolk picked up lots of random pieces anyway and hid them away. The rose window in the south transept is made of reclaimed bits of this stained glass, or so I'm told.

Some of the brasses have been restored, maybe three; most have not. Katherine Swynford's Chantry Chapel was destroyed, and her tomb and that of her daughter are now end to end rather than side by side; Katherine's is still in its same place, but not inside a chantry chapel.

I asked about the window, as it reminds me of the west window in York Minster, the petal shape in the lead does, anyway, and one of the clergy suggested that Lincoln cathedral is FAR superior to York Minster. It is a lovely place, I admit, and everybody in town (a) seems to know we're here ("you sound like an American; are you here with that choir that's visiting?") and (b) seems to really enjoy living in Lincoln. This is the way York always struck me; people who lived there were very fond of the place.

dinner on friday 17 july

So after evensong I went to dinner at a place across the street called Cafe Zoot or something like that. It seems to be a melange if I dare use that word of English, French and American cuisine. I guess. Throw in some Italian. They have bruschetta and garlic bread and a ravioli dish and gnocchi. And a duck confit for a starter, and another dish that sounds an awful lot like duck confit, at least it's duck leg, for a main. And there's a duck pate. And a salad of pear, walnuts and gorgonzola. And of course the ubiquitous steak and ham dishes. Fairly eclectic. I finally settled on the starter sampler, which is supposed to be an appetizer for two people. I needed to eat something but not a full meal.

It had on it:

some seriously mediocre duck pate, a blob sitting on a small sea of strawberry jam, with toasted baguette slices stuck in it;

two sauteed prawns that were okay;

some strips of beef that were battered and fried had served with a "sweet chilli sauce" on top (it was actually better than it sounds);

some green salad, mixed stuff, mostly mache and arugula, in the middle, hard to mess up;

breaded, and then baked or fried (sometime earlier) camembert, served with some kind of chutney on top; and

big chunks of rolls and big slices of french bread separating all these dishes.

It was actually better than it sounds, but it was still bizarre.

Who was it who said that to eat well in Britain, you have to eat breakfast three times a day?

And what is it with these wines? the red ones, at least...

I had dinner last night in the restaurant downstairs in the White Hart, and had two starters, in stead of a main course. My first was "gravlax" which I put in quotes, because I'm fairly certain how gravlax is supposed to be made, and this wasn't. As far as I could tell, it was 1/4" thick cylinders of raw salmon drowned in oil (probably not very good olive oil), placed on very thin rounds of cucumber, and sprinkled generously with fresh dill weed and capers, and sprinkled with lemon, with dollops of mayo scattered around. It was good, but it wasn't gravlax.

And my other starter was fettuccini with Whitby crabmeat, in a white wine sauce with some red peppers in it. Pretty good, but an odd combination.

In both places, the options for red wines were essentially the same: Italian, Australian, South African, no French. Why not?

Lillie

more lincoln friday july 17, including White Hart

So I'm staying at this historic White Hart Inn/Hotel, that used to be cathedral property, hence the names of all the bishops of Lincoln Cathedral on the doors. I had to move today to a (smaller, cheaper) room because of my late booking. This part of the hotel is old, but not nearly as old as the part that had the last room. AND I have a small balcony looking out over Bailgate, so I can open a door if I get hot, which is right now unlikely as it is raining and cold. There's the hotel at the left there. And I'm no longer in one of the rooms that is "haunted", to the chagrin of the younger choristers.

Martin showed up while I was eating breakfast this morning, wanting

(allegedly) to check his email and look up some things online. He also wanted me to take him out to lunch, as his "boxed lunch" was a roll with a piece of cheese and slice of tomato in it, in a plastic bag with a bottle of water and a banana. He's not crazy about the lunches they've been getting. I was at this point tucking into an enormous English breakfast, with bacon, eggs, toast, mushrooms, lots of tea, the works (I passed on the black pudding, the sausage and the "baked beans", which are actually pork and beans). I suggested that perhaps we could wait awhile before we went to lunch. We went up to my room and he looked at his email for a couple of minutes and then announced that he was going to take a nap until it was time to go to lunch. The bottom line is that all these choristers, the men, and all the chaperones are dog tired, what with staying out until all hours, getting up at 7:00 and running all day and into the night.

Rather later we went to a pub down the street "Steep Hill" and had some reliable fish and chips and peas (these brits are really into starch, aren't they). He had a Sam Smith Coke Lite (no joke) and I had a half pint of Sam Smith Bitter.

Did some more Christmas shopping at Pitlochry Woolens (it was too late to go to Grantham to Woolsthorpe Manor, Isaac Newton's birthplace), visited the cloister and took some more photos, and went to Evensong. They were good. Sang this stuff by Byrd. Turns out he was among other things organist and choirmaster a Lincoln Cathedral as well as being a student of Thomas Tallis in the 16th century. This country gives you a totally different perspective on time.

Tomorrow I want to figure out where it is that Katherine Swynford actually lived in the cathedral precincts.

Lillie

The White Hart Hotel

So while my room isn't very large, it is in the oldest part of the building. I'm in room #270. According to the Lincoln Town Crier who did the Ghost Walk yesterday (at left--she's also from Wakefield, Yorkshire--it sounded like a Yorkshire accent to me, and I was right), there are two haunted rooms in the White Hart Hotel, and one of them is #270. Somebody shot himself in the head in my room.

And I also found about the name on the door--John Williams, 1621--all the rooms have plaques on them with the names of bishops of Lincoln. That settles that. What is now the White Hart Hotel used to belong to the cathedral, and was actually accommodation for people visiting the cathedral. My room doesn't look haunted: it's actually quite nice.

Another thing: I was talking to the wait staff at breakfast this morning, and they told me all sorts of stories about people who've stayed at the hotel. Gwynneth Paltrow, the Queen's father (that was awhile ago, as he died in 1953 or 54), and of course Tom Hanks, Dan Brown, et al. when they were filming part of the DaVinci Code in Lincoln. Also of course that guy who was the assassin. According to the staff in the dining room, Tom Hanks, et al. were incredibly nice. He had the suite at the top of the hotel, and learned that it had been booked as a honeymoon suite before the hotel learned the DaVinci Code folks were coming. The hotel was going to move the bride somewhere else, and Tom Hanks wouldn't let them. HE moved. The place is certainly a lovely, gracious, user-friendly place considering its pedigree...

Lillie

Lincoln Thursday

So I had dinner in the hotel this evening; hadn't had lunch at all except for a pork pie and some water. Evensong was okay but not great.

I think Tino may be up there in the bell tower in the cathedral; I certainly hope so. They are doing a peal, and the men were invited to come up and help out. He wasn't going to go because he's in a snit about the candlelight tour of the cathedral and is annoyed about a couple of other things. But it sounds GREAT from here (my hotel room) with the window open.

Today wasn't very interesting, but was fine. I went down the Steep Hill to the High Street and associated (boring) stores, which now include of course not only a McDonald's, but also a Starbucks. Oh, yes, I was getting tired, and stopped in to Starbucks; in typical American chain fashion, it is (a) air conditioned and (b) has rest rooms. Bought some boring things, too, like socks and another alarm clock. Steep Hill really is steep. Fortunately there is a small bus that does a circuit every 20 minutes for a minimal amount of money, and you can use it to get back up the hill.

There may be something interesting on the telly tonight.

I also passed a couple of very interesting buildings on the way down the hill. Jews House and Jews Houses, which are 12th century buildings generally intact, and are very good examples of prosperous residences in the 12th and 13th centuries.

Hey, two photos, and no disasters...

Night Market at Cadouin, Monday, July 13

So Phil, Martin and I went to the night market at Cadouin. You may recall that this is the one we were trying to go to last Friday, except it wasn't happening. It happened on Monday. I'm going to upload a few photos of people, and then try to explain who they are. (I still find uploading photos into this to be a spectacular pain...maybe I could be using another engine or whatever this is for my blog, but being the computer end-user that I am, once I find something that actually works, I am exceedingly reluctant to change.)

Okay, the two photos above. Some of the British Ex-Pats that live in the Lalinde area. On the left, Richard Herrington and Paul Keenan in front, Pam Stananought and Yvette on the other side of the table. Richard and Yvette live together/are married/or something. Ditto Paul and Pam. Paul is the fellow who did the work on our house. I think he has retired from same.

More about Richard and Yvette later. The photo on the right is Yvette again, Ken Day and Phil. Ken is the Ken of "Ken and Val Day" who we think so highly of. Don't know where Val was when I took this. Martin thinks she is wonderful. More from the night market, including description and photos, a bit later. gotta go to Evensong.

Lillie

Back in France

While Martin and I were still in France, we took him to the Chateau de Biron, an enormous one down on the border between Perigord and Agen, up on an impressive hill, of course. Simon de Montfort played some role in its defence or whatever during whichever war(s) it was in. I do know it was involved in the Hundred Years' War. The day before, when we were puttering around Monpazier, Martin had decided he had to have a poster of Biron, so we decided to go there. On the way we once again had to pass the Chateau de Bannes, down the road from Couze, and I think privately owned and occupied.

The Chateau de Bannes looks to me like it sort of grew out of the rock,

without being built.

Biron is pretty impressive, though, too. The chapel, even (frequently they aren't). I decided to pass. It was far too hot; the hill was far too steep; I'd been there before; once you get up to the top, you have to come down again (!); and there was a cafe down at the bottom that was calling to me. I also found a shop selling "produits regionnaux", e.g., walnuts, walnut oil, walnut tarts, various jams and things, honey, confit and foie gras. The usual suspects. I had a lot more fun than I would have had climbing that hill.

So after we went there, we went back to the house, collected some things, and went to the Cadouin Night Market. Stay tuned

two more things about Lincoln

First, some of the scenes from the Da Vinci Code were filmed in Lincoln Cathedral, AND Tom Hanks stayed at the same hotel I'm staying at, the White Hart Hotel.

Second, there's a new movie called Young Victoria, about Queen Victoria, with a number of the usual suspects as stars in it, and her coronation was filmed in Lincoln Cathedral. The dreadful guy who was the assassin in the Da Vinci Code is also in Young Victoria.

Lillie

14 July 2009 Bastille Day

Well, we started off today by going to the Bastille Day pomp and ceremony at the war memorial in Lalinde. Our friend Ken Day was one of the standard bearers, along with several old (and new) timers...one appeared about 16). I think there were 8 flags, they raised the french flag on the pole, played the Marseillaise, laid a wreath on the war memorial, the mayor and somebody else said a few words. I have it on videotape, but have thus far been unable to upload it here.

The one member of the Resistance still alive in the area was there, but left before Val Day could point him out to me. I didn't quite catch the details, but the Mayor, one of the people who gave a short speech, escaped the Germans during the war (probably in 1944 when it was so bad in the Dordogne) by crawling through the sewer tunnel with (I think) his father and his sister, and came out in the bassin (sort of like a rectangular lake, connected with the canal that is parallel to the river, which has rapids) in another part of town. His mother was too fat to get through the tunnel, and the Gestapo killed her. They were "drafting" every male, German, French or whatever, who was 14 or more, or maybe it was 12 near the end of the war.

After the ceremony, which I will try again to upload, Martin and I went back to the house, fixed lunch and a couple of other things--he had to have "escargots", e.g., snails in garlic butter, one more time while he was in France. Then we went to Bergerac to fly to Stansted. I won't elaborate, but as trips by air go, it was the usual ordeal, and they didn't have any of those big zillion page 3 miles to the inch book maps of Britain at the Stansted W.H. Smith; all they had were 1 foot or so to the inch maps of London (actually I didn't check out the scale). We own about 4 of those big book maps, but they are all in Kentucky.

I was trying to ask someone who looked like she worked there where the Europcar rental cars actually were, and I first asked in French, before I realized I was in England.

We arrived in Lincoln. Annoyances but no disasters. Martin is settled in (I think) a choir school boarding house. Directions from Kathleen were, shall we say, not entirely accurate, and we decided the place didn't exist, after I had driven down a curving lane with a stone wall on either side, and not actually wide enough to accommodate anything bigger than a horse. We were looking for #18 James Street. We found 12, 14 and 16, and there was no 18, and the description didn't exactly fit the area, shall we say. Fortunately #16 is occupied by a retired priest who came out and helped us out. I am sort of settled in the White Hart Hotel, a VERY old hotel at the gates of the cathedral precincts, AND with internet included in the room price, AND a car park with no extra charges, AND it seems the room will cost me 20 pounds/night less than they told me yesterday, which is good. They seem to have the heating on, at least it's far too warm in here. I did manage to open one of the three windows. And the door says that John Williams stayed here in 1621; I asked the desk clerk if he stayed in that actual room or if he just stayed in the hotel. He's not sure, and I suspect nobody has ever asked that before. Actually in truth I'm not sure who John Williams is. There was a John Williams who was a composer who died fairly recently, so I guess it's not him.

At any rate, I won't have to climb the hill to get to the cathedral. They serve breakfast (also included) until 11:00 so I may actually get some.

We have issues with adapters; we need them both for American and French plugs (my phone), and we have ONE. This is a problem. That may be my project tomorrow. That and my fly bites (yes, FLIES, NOT mosquitoes, FLIES) and associated blisters. The guy at the pharmacy in Lalinde told me to put hydrocortisone cream on them and take antihistamines. These are far beyond that level of treatment.

Enough already. I need to write about Biron and the night market yesterday (we finally made it to one), and some things like that.

Lillie

Saturday, 11 July 09, Martin's here

We’ve had an eventful couple of days. Saturday morning we didn’t plan anything because the appliance repairman was coming at 11:00 except that (MIRACLE!) he showed up early. This was truly a surprise; the only problem was, I sort of wasn’t exactly dressed to meet strangers, if you know what I mean. It turns out that the problems with both the washing machine and the oven were that we didn’t quite know how they worked. The washing machine is “semi-automatic”, which means that it doesn’t necessarily go all the way through a complete cycle, which is why we’d been having to turn it off after the wash cycle, move the dial, and turn it on again to get it to do the final rinse and spin.

He told us the dryer was a piece of junk that should be tossed into the “poubelle”, which we basically already knew, as it takes about 2.5 hours to actually get it to dry anything. Electricity is rather expensive over here, to boo

t. And then there is the oven, or “four”. The problem there (we couldn’t get it to light under any circumstances) is that you have to turn it on, wait between 5 and 10 seconds, and THEN put a lighted match in the hole. Welcome to “safety” measures in France (for the washer, when it’s done, you have to (a) turn it “off” by pressing the button again, and wait two minutes until it “clicks” before you can open the tub, yet another safety measure).

After he left (this all cost me 20 euros, and it was a real challenge understanding that 20 euros was what we owed him—I never did; he had to show me), we ate some lunch and then

decided to go to Monbazillac, very near Bergerac, where they make sweet white dessert wine, not unlike Sauterne. Not nearly as expensive. You have to pay to visit the chateau (16^th century, about 1560), but then there is free tasting of a lot of wines. Martin didn’t like the Pecharmant (an AOC in the Bergerac region) red, at all, but the Bergerac red a little, and he liked the Monbazillac we tasted, the sweet white wines, perfect for dessert or to eat with that other local product, foie gras.

We ended up buying a “case”, in this case a six-pack, of the chateau Monbazillac 2002, which was in a box (one of the issues here was that we wanted the box). It’s supposed to be great to lay down for 25-30 years, by which time I will almost certainly be dead. We also bought two bottles of Pecharmant (can lay this down up to 10 years) and Bergerac Rouge (up to four years). These are all years that are generally beyond our ability to appreciate the quality, but hey, the Pecharmant was 6 euros 50 a bottle, and the Bergerac 4 euros 50 a bottle. The latter would cost at least (AT LEAST) $20 in Kentucky.

For dinner we had garlic soup which I made (trying to emulate the stuff we’d had the night before at that restaurant), escargots (snails) in garlic butter (one of Martin’s favorites), bread and wine. The garlic soup was good, except it wasn’t garlicky enough, even though I used 9 or 10 cloves for 1.5 litres of water worth of soup, and it wasn’t thick enough. It disappeared, though. Next time I will use MUCH more garlic, and MUCH more flour; what you do is sauté the chopped up garlic in duck or goose fat, slowly and not until it is brown, and then put flour on it and cook that for a bit, and then add water, and let it cook for rather a long time. So if you mess up and don’t have either enough garlic or enough flour at the start (OR BOTH), you have a problem. It was good, though. I will try again. The snails I bought at the supermarket frozen. So there.

a comment

I don't know about the photos I'm posting here. Look at the Marburg post, with the photo of Johannes, Evelyn and Olaf; all three of them are squashed. They are not as short and wide as they look in the photo; in truth all three are very tall, or at least tall for their age (in Johannes's case)

Mushroom house

So this house is up by Beynac castle. The roof is one of those they call "lauze" or something like that, and you usually see them only on dovecotes, or bories. They are flattish rocks, laid out around the roof. I don't think there's any mortar anywhere involved in them. P said this is not a house; it's a mushroom. It's the only house I've ever seen with one of these roofs.

Friday night, July 10

Above left is a photo of the Abbaye de Cadouin (Cadouin Abbey) taken from the restaurant we ate at, described below. The photo on the right is of the restaurant; P and Martin are at the table in front, with P pouring wine. As I mentioned, I'm having difficulties inserting photos...

I had mentioned the Cadouin night market, and Martin said he didn’t want to go to a market. Until I told him what a night market is: it’s NOT a usual market with all sorts of food and clothes, etc. to buy; you EAT at a night market. As far as I know, it’s unique to this part of France. And then he decided it sounded like a good idea; he could get crepes. I could get oysters and/or Moules Frites. Local wines. Phil could get foie gras. There was a hitch, though. I thought the Cadouin night markets happen every Friday night in the summertime once they begin them, usually late in June. And I’d seen a sign a week and a half ago about one last Friday night. So, we went to the night market. Except it wasn’t happening. It was by this time after 8:00 p.m., and we decided to eat in one of the three places in Cadouin. I chose the nicest one, where we’d been before a couple of years ago. It’s called Restaurant de l’Abbaye or something like that, and is right across from the old abbey. The other two restaurants were selling things like a slice of pizza with a fried egg on top. That’s the terrace of the restaurant up there, with P at the front table pouring wine, across from Martin. From P’s side of the table (mine, too) you had a good if not complete view of the abbey.

This turned out to be a good idea. We had a bottle of house Bergerac red (8 euros/bottle); they brought a lovely COLD large pitcher of water without being asked. Martin and I chose the cheapest menu (14 euros, four courses), and P chose the one with foie gras for one course and sole for the main (28 euros or thereabouts, also four courses). Every meal began with “potage”, which was the local garlic soup—water, garlic, lots of it, sautéed in duck or goose fat gently, some bread, salt and pepper of course, a bit of flour, cooked awhile and then with egg white (and sometimes yolk) added. Martin looked at it, and turned his nose up; I allowed as how he WAS going to TRY IT. He ate the whole bowl, and sopped up what was left with bread.

For the first course, Martin and I both had the duck terrine served with green salad with walnuts. The duck terrine was great, had pieces of foie gras in it. We both finished it all. I suggested that it would make great sandwiches (it would, on French bread sliced horizontally and smeared with Dijon mustard). Martin disagreed, but what does he know… Phil had the foie gras, which was served warm sprinkled with sea salt and served with toast. As it always does, it was great.

For the next course, Martin and I both had veal breast stuffed with Serrano ham (rather like Prosciutto, is that how you spell it?). It was rolled, though, and the ham was ground up with some other stuff. I think it was leeks along with who knows what else. Martin didn’t think it was leeks. But the veal breast was clearly spread very thickly with this ham stuff, rolled up, tied, and braised. In what, I don’t know. I’d guess white Bergerac (Bergerac Sec) and veal or chicken broth. Then sliced. Served with some gravy, some great peeled, sliced and fried potatoes, and a custard thing with zucchini in it.

The potatoes over here are WONDERFUL.

Phil had the sole, which was rolled up, cooked (I suspect steamed), and covered with a wonderful sauce that was full of mushrooms. Served with white rice (typical) and the zucchini custard stuff.

The menu had clearly said “Fromage ou dessert”, e.g., cheese or dessert. I’d said I wanted cheese, so they brought me this tray of cheeses to choose from. I picked three, but by then I was stuffed so I had to get some help, even though it wasn’t much cheese. But then when they came around asking about dessert, they offered me some, too. I couldn’t resist when they said they had sorbet cassis (black currant sorbet, it’s mostly just frozen blended black currants and sugar). Martin had crème brule, and P had tarte aux poires, which is a tart with pears. It was served on a cherry sauce, and was more like a clafouti than my idea of a tart. It didn’t really have a crust; the bottom was a thick thing that was a cross between crust, cake and custard, and was it good. Had a pear half on top baked with it.

While the meal wasn’t the best I’ve ever had, it was way up there for the price.

We still haven’t decided what to do tomorrow, besides wait for the appliance repairman come (supposedly at 11:00) to fix the washing machine (turns off at strange times) and maybe the oven (which won’t start at all…).

One of the things Martin brought me, among the bills, is a very nasty invoice/note from the Tresorie de Lalinde. Evidently I haven’t paid a water bill or something like that. I’m not sure I ever RECEIVED a water bill. I will try to deal with it on Monday…

Have I mentioned that I am losing the battle with the cobwebs? Martin is going to help me clean the fridge, which badly needs it. He’s going to take everything out; I’ll clean it; and then WE will put things back in. The problem is that I have to sort of stand on my head to do it.

I’m glad I’m back in France; too bad I have to go to England next week.

Lillie

July 10, Friday, martin's here

So we planned to visit Beynac Castle today, Phil’s favorite, and one of the huge English castles built during the Hundred Years’ War (which I’ve been told effectively lasted about 300 years). It’s further east on a big bluff overlooking the Dordogne, across from Castlenau, I think. The problem is that, while they told Martin it would be at least 48 hours before he’d be able to get his suitcase back, they phoned this morning about 8:00 and said it would be delivered to our house between noon and 4:00 p.m. This would be nice since it would mean I don’t have to drive again to Bordeaux to pick it up, HOWEVER, it is now 3:22 p.m. local time and they aren’t here yet, and we can’t leave to go sightseeing until they get here. Bienvenue en France; Welcome to France.

The good news is that the people across the street, M. et Mme. Fernand Roy, have left, at least for the weekend. They live in the old Boulangerie (bakery), a trapezoid shaped building built, like everything else around here, into the hill. The garden directly in front of ours, down some steps, is theirs. She’s an absolute card-carrying pill or harridan or whatever; he’s clearly henpecked. Well, they have two cars, AND they have a garage, but they never put one of the cars in the garage when they are here, as that’s where he does all his “projects”. There are two parking places on the road between us, one of which should be ours, but they use both of them, so we have to park down the road on the bluff. It’s a pain.

If there’s a place open when we return from something, and we park in it, as soon as we leave again they will move their car out of the garage and occupy the space. Jeannette Dumas has watched them do this several times, and says it looks like a slap-stick comedy on TV. But when I went down this morning, the gate to the garden (which is fenced in with bamboo sticks and wire, and about 2’ high) was padlocked (an old twisted coat hanger, an ancient heavy, rusted metal chain, and a padlock—hey, even with my bad hips and bad knees, I could step over and into the garden if I wanted); the house was shuttered; the dog wasn’t yapping; the garage door was closed, and there were no cars around. Which means they are out of town, at least for the weekend. I hope it’s a three week holiday, so they won’t get back before we leave.

Later…So they were supposed to deliver Martin’s suitcase between noon and 4:00 p.m. This being France, it arrived about 4:45, and I guess we should be grateful it made it at all. Then P and Martin decided we had to go to Beynac Castle NOW; it’s almost an hour drive, and the castle closes at 6:30. So we took off rapidly with zero prep, and did visit Beynac. It is great, and I made P park up on the top of the mountain so we could go straight in, rather than climbing up all those cobblestones. I took my cane; it helps going up stairs and there are lots of them in that castle, and people tend to give you a wide berth. Richard the LionHeart was the baron of this castle for 10 years, 1189-1199, I think. It was on the English side most of the time during the Hundred Years’ War. Across the Dordogne is Castlenaud and a couple of other ones. It’s a great view from Beynac. If you can minimize the steps…

Am having a lot of trouble with these photos. I may just post a couple of pages with nothing but photos...

Lillie

Thursday, July 9

Reflections on the trip to Switzerland and Germany

It was too hot. Basel, which everyone says is great, was not as great as it would have been. The Van Gogh exhibit was good. The cathedral was interesting. Being able to sit on the banks of the Rhine in Switzerland and see both Germany and France under the bridge was neat. It was too hot, and I lost Lukas’s key to their flat. Admittedly, these hot spells are generally brief, BUT…

Marburg was great. And it rained awhile and cooled off.

Tubingen, however you spell it (there’s an umlaut over the ‘u’) was pretty good, and we ate fairly well.

We spent too much time on trains. And too many of them were too hot (notwithstanding the fact that we were in first class all the way…)

I’m glad to be back in France. The plumbing emergency is fixed, although the soaked wall needs repair as do some other plumbing issues. And the washing machine needs fixing, as does the oven, I guess. It doesn’t work, but the cooktop works and we have a microwave, so it’s not a disaster.

It cooled off here, too.

Martin is not here yet. His plane from Cincinnati to Boston was late (weather), and then there was a “mechanical problem” on the plane they re-scheduled him on, so it left about 1:30 a.m. instead of 10:30 p.m. It is now at CDG and they had to evacuate the place and quit unloading the plane because of a “security issue”, e.g., a bomb threat. He still has to (a) collect his bag, (b) organize a new train to Bordeaux and (c) get on it and get there. I will feel much better when I can actually look at him.

I went to the market this morning (always Thursdays in Lalinde), bought some food, including old fashioned pain de champagne, made by these people in Molieres (have probably already mentioned them) who grow their own wheat, etc. Do it all from scratch. Also some butter and crème fraiche out of tubs. Some kitchen towels not unlike the ones we pay dearly for at Mulberry & Lime in Lexington, but 7 euros each. Then I went to the supermarket and bought yet more cheese and a few other things, AND they had ICE CUBES. I now have a semi-unlimited supply of good iced tea, so I should be much nicer.

I am seriously losing the battle of the spider webs. We were gone only a week, and yet it’s like a plague. We also need more bookcase space. This seems to be a perpetual problem, wherever I am. There are always more books than there is space for them. Can’t figure out why.

Have I mentioned that I will feel much better when I can look at Martin?

Later…it’s 3:30 in the afternoon, he’s still at CDG where they have lost his luggage. He is evidently managing nicely to deal with that ordeal. Now he has to deal with the trains. AAAAARGGGHH…

Rather much later…we got back from the Bordeaux main train station (Gare St. Jean) with Martin in tow about 12:45 a.m., or 0:45 here. The train station, which we were actually in yesterday, but didn’t really see any of it, is (a) enormous, (b) gorgeous, (c) in a dreadful part of the city with “adult” shows and cops all over the place, and (d) without parking as they are doing all these road works all over the place. It was interesting. We parked up on a sort of sidewalk. Illegally, of course, but the car was there when we came back for it. But hey, we’re back home in Couze.

Martin was distressed about taking a shower, because he has no luggage, and I allowed as how we’ll go buy him some new underwear tomorrow. They told him it’ll take AT LEAST 48 hours to recover his suitcase and get it to the Bordeaux airport (gad, yet another drive to Bordeaux…maybe we’ll hit IKEA on the way back…). They are not interested in delivering it here to the cottage in Couze. Welcome to air travel in the 21^st century.

MAYBE I’ll manage to upload some photos tomorrow. I’m waiting for things to calm down.

Lillie

back in Couze from Switzerland and Germany

Very late Wednesday, July 8

So we got back today from the trip to Switzerland and Germany. And it was fun, and I think Phil actually enjoyed doing all four talks, but OMG the train trips were a what? Too long, too many changes of train (accompanied by dragging luggage up and down stairs), too much on the go food, too much sitting down for hours at a time. I’m tired.

I do love being back in Couze. And the plumber Jeannette found repaired the leak downstairs. However, he hasn’t fixed anything else, and because of the leak, we need to repair/replace the dry wall and insulation down there, because it is soaked. I will look into it tomorrow. And I will also try to manage to talk to the appliance guy in Port de Couze (it’s across the river from Couze) to get him to fix both the oven (maybe) and the washing machine (for sure). I’m planning to investigate prices of new fridges, as the one here, which was supposed to be new when they renovated the cottage, isn’t. I also need to see if I can find somebody to fix the wall downstairs, not to mention repair the rest of the plumbing.

And, we need to find somebody to handle rentals of the place; it’s silly not to try to rent it out when we’re not here, and we’re never here at the peak vacation times. Rowena something or other was a serious prospect here, except Brian, her roommate and long-time companion, died last year. Not only is she not working; she is trying to sell her house and (I think) move back to England.

Martin is supposed to arrive tomorrow, however, he managed to miss his flight from Boston to CDG, because the flight from Cincinnati was late, which means he will also miss his train from CDG to Bordeaux. This all means a LARGE number of phone calls, in addition to the ones we’ve already had. Welcome to air travel in the 21^st century. And Martin doesn’t deal well with surprises, does he.

We were gone for only a week, and the spider webs have taken over. I will have to spend half a day getting rid of them, and then there’s the floors, the laundry, the fridge, etc. I need Evelyn Korn’s nanny; she is part housekeeper, part nanny for their son Johannes. And clearly she is wonderful. I wonder if I could get her to come live here?!?

On other fronts, I have decided (for about the fifth time in my life) to learn German. And since I promised Johannes that I would, I suspect I'd better do it this time. Phil has recommended a series of CD's he's used to study French. I bought a couple of (I think) basic cookbooks. Hey, what do I spend the most time doing? reading cookbooks. And the German cookbooks use the metric system, just like the French ones, so maybe I'll be in business once I learn a few things about grammar, verbs, etc., and acquire a decent dictionary, as well as those tapes or whatever they are...

Gottingen, Friday, July 3

So in Gottingen we visited the old church, which is now a lecture hall, library and museum. There are replicas of approximately a zillion (more like 40 or 50) very old manuscripts, from a page from the Gutenburg Bible (Gottingen of course has one of four complete copies in existence), Psalters, etc., as well as portraits and busts of various people. We then went to Gauss's observatory, a building he occupied along with students for the latter part of his life (his first wife died, he married again, and evidently they didn't get along very well...). There is also the outline of the stone foundation of a small house built for him on the grounds of the observatory; it had no metal in it, so he could conduct experiments involving telegraphs and things without the metal in the building messing things up. I guess they didn't have insulation on wires, did they.

And then we went to the Gottingen Mathematics Institute; the building itself was built by the Rockefeller Foundation early in the 20th century. The library there contains a lot of books I am familiar with, in English, German, and other languages. Five by Andrew Ranicki, the usual by Walter Rudin of course. Olaf also asked if we could look at the Gottingen Suitcase, and we did, and I took a couple of photos. will tell that story another time.

We also visited the "Hilbert Space", the lecture room used by Hilbert, Felix Klein, and a few dozen others. There's a portrait of Hilbert at one end, and a portrait of Klein at the other. Aside from an extraordinary number of blackboards, it's otherwise a pretty ordinary lecture room. The German word for space is something like "roum", pronounced "room", and Hilbert lectured there, so it got to be called the Hilbert Space. Without belaboring the issue, a Hilbert Space is an important set of mathematical functions with certain properties. 'Nuf said.

Photos will follow; I even have them labeled, just am not having any luck inserting them here.

The rest of the weekend in Marburg was equally fun. We went to a market, climbed the hill to the chapel above the St. Elizabeth church, where they buried pilgrims who died in Marburg. They were having some sort of festival with variable music. Evelyn invited some people over for a fourth of July celebration dinner, complete with flag napkins (!), and fruit in red, white and blue (red and white currants, blueberries), as well as a strawberry salad. No fireworks; they are illegal.

On Sunday we drove up to the castle (the conventional wisdom was that Lillie wouldn't make it on foot...), had a picnic, and then visited the few rooms in the castle that are open to the public; a lot of it is used by the university, which was originally four monasteries. More photos. Someday.

On Monday Phil and Evelyn went to the university in the morning, and Olaf took Johannes to the doctor. He'd been crabby and a real pill and had a sore throat; turns out he has scarlet fever. Great.

So we took the train from Marburg to Tuebingen. Three trains, actually, but there were steps only at the beginning and the end. I'm writing this in a university guest house (read: small hotel room) that has rudimentary internet connectivity. Tomorrow we return to Couze, via four (!) trains. The middle two are TGV, though.

Cheers, Lillie

Marburg, Germany

Today is the 7th of July, Tuesday, and we're in Tuebingen after spending four days in Marburg at Evelyn and Olaf Korn's place there. Evelyn spent a week in Kentucky last March (and went back with a pair of Justin boots, no less), and we retaliated. It was a lot of fun. They have a precocious eight year old named Johannes, who is prone to logical argument. He was of course annoyed that neither of us could speak German, and his English stops about at "My name is John". By the time we left, though, I had decided to learn German, and I would say something in German, and he would answer in English (you must understand, these were VERY primitive conversations, if you can call them that...)

The photo above is the three of them in front of St. Elisabeth's Church, Marburg's local saint, and a former pilgrimage destination. As you can see, I am as usual having trouble with formatting the text around the photo.

So on Friday, while Phil and Evelyn did science at Marburg University, and Johannes went to school, Olaf, who had no lectures at his job (he's a finance professor at Gottingen) took me to Gottingen and showed me around. It was really cool. Anybody who's studied any mathematics knows that Gottingen is sort of like Mecca for mathematicians. Soooooo,

the guy below was the first ever experimental physicist. Can't remember his name, of course. I wanted to post Gauss's house and the "Hilbert Space" from the mathematics institute, but perhaps I'd better post this, and then add another entry to the blog.

2 July 2009, Germany

was an oven; it was an ordeal getting to Basel, etc. The people we stayed with, Lukas and Dita, are vWe’re on our way to Marburg, Germany from Basel, Switzerland to visit Evelyn Korn. I trust this will be less of an ordeal than the trip to Basel, which was (I think) productive for Phil, and fun, but an ordeal nonetheless. Getting there was an ordeal (“fast train” from Paris to Mulhouseery interesting, and Dita is a great cook. They are not permanently in Basel, though, and are in a rented third floor walk-up, and we slept on a mattress on the floor. And it has gotten hot over here.

People over here are just discovering ice. Basel was interesting, though. It’s not very big, and is on the point of Switzerland where

Switzerland, Germany and France meet. I took a picture from the edge of the Rhine (which, by the way, is HUGE), looking under a bridge. I was in Switzerland, and the gray building on the left bank under the bridge is in France, and the oil tanks on the right bank are in Germany.

I’ve had sort of zero down-time, and I need some. P wants me to phone Jeannette Dumas to find out what’s happened with the plumbing repair, but I need to phone Martin, too, and haven’t found any way to put more money on the cell phone I bought. And the charger for the camera is in my luggage, and the battery is virtually dead, so I can’t do much with that.

P also wants me to spread the word that he went for a morning swim in the Rhine River while I was still asleep. Lukas and Dita live the equivalent of half a block from the river.

I went to the Van Gogh exhibit at the art museum and visited the Munster yesterday, did some “sort of” shopping but didn’t buy any clothes. Everything is dreadfully expensive, even when it’s on sale. I did buy yet another pepper grinder as I REALLY don’t like either of the ones I have in Couze. One is really hopeless and the new one is marginally better. Maybe this one will actually work.

Restaurant food seems astonishingly expensive.

Went out to an Italian restaurant last night with a couple of Lukas’s students. Very good, very authentic Italian food made by a family who is actually from the Parma area and claim they get their pasta sent to them by relatives in Italy. It

was certainly good, and certainly expensive. VERY good, though.

P and I went back to the Munster this morning before we got on the train to go to Marburg. It’s very interesting. Red sandstone. Most of it is 14^th century, some is 15^th, and the oldest part is 9^th or 10^th century; it appears they aren’t certain. Has some very interesting tombs in it, and a lovely garden behind it overlooking the Rhine, plus a lovely park full of chestnut trees on one side. It was good; I’m glad we went back there, as when I visited briefly yesterday, I was whacked.

On Tuesday night Dita made dinner. After black olives and a bottle of white wine down on the river’s edge, while dangling our feet in the water, we ate on their tiny balcony. Had gazpacho from the classic recipe somewhere in Andalusia. Fresh tomatoes, sred bell pepper, lots of garlic, bread soaked in olive oil, put through a food mill or food processor, chilled. Very good. Then an “empanada” and salad. The empanada had in it onion, zucchini, red bell pepper, basil, feta cheese,…baked between two sheets of puff pasty. Salad and vinaigreet. Bread. Red wine. Followed by some kind of yummy orange cake with frosting that she also made. It turns out she wanted to be a chef, but chef schools in Venezuela (she’s Spanish but grew up in Venezuela) wouldn’t accept women when she was ready to go. So she became a biologist.

I hope Marburg is more relaxing than the last three days have been. I’ve been hot, tired and on the run all the time…

Later. And I’ll put some photos in when I can download them.

Lillie