Monday, August 9, 2010

Allanche

Allanche


Allanche

Allanche


Allanche

Allanche

Allanche

Allanche


Dear Reader,

A summer in the Auvergne would not be complete without a trip to the yearly three-day antique show in Allanche, one of the most picturesque villages in the Département du Cantal, which is part of the Auvergne region. The drive to Allanche itself is magnificent, filled with some of the most spectacular vistas. Miles of green pastures give way to distant volcanos and amazing valleys, and dotting the landscape everywhere are small villages made up of slate roofed houses and churches. It doesn't get any better than this.

The antique fair itself is always a lot of fun. Here, one can buy some of the most exquisite armoires and tables as well as the most delicate Limoges tea sets, silver candelabras, bisque dolls and damask table linens. All at incredibly high prices, of course. But amidst those beautiful objects, there are some more mundane items, which are 'reasonably' priced.
My husband and I splurged on a nice old corkscrew and four old meat hooks to attach to the beams in our kitchen, so that we may hang our saucissons from them.

The antique fair was always a favorite of my mother's. Most years, she would try to attend. When my children were spending the summer with her and my father here in our family's house in the Auvergne, she would wake them up in the wee hours of the morning to ensure that she not miss anything. The fair must have been torture for the children, who remember their "Oma" taking hours to browse from one vendor's stall to the next, picking up every object for closer inspection. My father would mostly take the children to a nearby restaurant for lunch, so that my mother could continue looking at everything.

Our son Max and his girlfriend Lucy came with us to Allanche this year.
"Do you remember how much Oma loved this antique fair?" I asked him.
He smiled.
"Yes, I do. We used to lose her all the time and had to go back to find her. I also remember those two-hour lunches with Opa in the restaurant. When the meal was done, Oma had only made it through half of the fair. "

He was not exaggerating, I assure you. My mother loved old objects. I guess I inherited that passion, though I certainly do not take as long as her to cover the entire fair.




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Friday, August 6, 2010

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I will miss seeing so much of the sky when I come back to Brooklyn. Here, you can actually see the rain clouds rolling in. The light changes constantly over the landscape as well.



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Thursday, August 5, 2010


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We were certain that the yearly pétanque tournament in our French village had been cancelled.
The morning sun had given way to heavy rain, so instead of walking down to the pétanque court at 2:30 PM to face the challengers, everyone in my household laid downtown to take a nap.
By 3 PM, our friend Charlène was at the door.

"The whole village is waiting for your team. Where are you?"
Still sleepy, I looked at her in amazement.
"The tournament is still taking place in this foul weather? It's raining cats and dogs." I blurted out.
"13 teams of 3 are already assembled. We need your team to make it even." Charlène chuckled. "The competition is on."

My husband, my son Max and his girlfriend Lucy, the members of this year's Team Brooklyn, quickly got ready and we were off to meet the challengers. Luckily, someone grabbed the umbrellas.

By the time we arrived at the court, some of the teams were already playing against each other. I apologized to the organizer, an acquaintance of ours, for our team being late. Again, I explained that we were certain that the event had been rained out.

"Mais, c'est pas serieux!" he grinned, playfully doubting our commitment to the sport.

Team Brooklyn did not waste time. Boules firmly in hand, they began the first game against one of the best teams in the villages, made up of Michel 1, Michel 2 and Patrick.

The rain was still coming down steadily, but thunder and lightening could now be heard in the distance. And it was heading towards us. Huddled under the umbrella, I cheered on our team.
To everyone's surprise, Team Brooklyn won the first game with a commanding lead.
Glenn, Max and Lucy also won the second game against another team.

By now, everyone was soaked to the bones. Huge puddles formed on the pétanque court, but still the competition went on. The scene looked rather surreal.
Mercifully, Team Brooklyn lost the third game. I think elimination came as a relief, because it meant that we could finally get out of the dampness.
Hands were shaken, conciliatory pats were distributed on shoulders, one more drink was bought and the winners of the competition toasted before everyone hurried home.
Within minutes, my little village was quiet again.

We came back home, made a fire in the hearth and got into dry clothes. How fun it had been, rain and all. Team Brooklyn certainly played well. We never got the official ranking, but as far as I was concerned, Glenn, Max and Lucy came in first.


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Tuesday, August 3, 2010

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Last Sunday, my little village in the Auvergne celebrated its annual Fête Patronale, a celebration that the whole community takes part in. It is always scheduled during the first week-end in August. Of course, my family and I always try to be here to take part in the festivities.

The event started early on Sunday morning with an open-air Mass under the most beautiful blue sky. Old and young were gathered to hear the priest's sermon. It was also an occasion to run into many friends in the community which we had not seen for the entire year. There was much catching up to do.

After Mass, many continued on to the village square, in front of the war monument, which stands next to the church. Our Mayor, together with the conscrits, those young people from the village who turn 18 this year, laid a wreath and observed a moment of silence to honor the fallen soldiers of the community.
We were all invited afterward for an aperitif served by the conscrits in the Salle de Fête, the communal party room. (Yes, 18 year olds can drink legally here in France, as it should be.)

It was all rather sweet and I was happy to be part of the festivities.

The sun gave way to angry black clouds in the afternoon, but the villagers were not deterred. By 3 O'Clock, they were busily organizing into teams for the yearly Pétanque Tournament. Of course, my husband and son took part as well, forming "Team Brooklyn" with my son's girlfriend Lucy.
Click on the ling below for pictures of the event. It was great fun.



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A moment in time in my little French village.

"Well, hello!" these geese and ducks seemed to be thinking as they busily waddled up in unison to investigate who had approached their enclosure.


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Monday, August 2, 2010


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Marthe, the owner of a little restaurant in our village here in France, has a very unusual cat. Not only is is white, which by itself differentiates it from the 'ordinary' multi-striped and spotted ones that roam along the countryside, this one also has two differently colored eyes: one blue, the other green.
The cat owns the dining room of the restaurant. She walks about the customers regally, occasionally allowing someone to tickle her behind the ears. Mostly though, she sits right on her favorite windowsill, near one of the tables.
That is were she was sitting when we ate at Marthe's restaurant last week. No matter how much attention we paid her, she ignored us entirely, but looked up long enough for my son to capture her beautiful, intriguing eyes.

Health Department violation, you say? Oh, here in the center of France things are just a bit looser...)



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