Living the life in Saint-Aignan: 2025

18 October 2025

Seven years ago in the vines

Seven years ago, in 2008, this is what the vineyard looked like on 18 october. This year (2025), all the grapes were harvested weeks ago. I guess the hot weather we had in June, July, and August ripened the grapes much earlier than in previous years. It's too bad, I think, because the grapes in late October 2008 were so beautiful.

Meanwhile, the weatherman on Télématin this morning says we should expect significant rain starting tomorrow. MétéoCiel says to expect some light rain starting at 5 p.m. tomorrow, lasting until noon on Monday. Accuweather says rain will start at 7:00 p.m. tomorrow, but will only last for an hour. On ne sait pas sur quel pied danser...

17 October 2025

Late sunrise

Here in Saint-Aignan, the sun doesn't rise until about 8:15 at this time of the year. Still, I go for a walk every other morning, and I take my phone with me. That's in case I fall down and can't get up. I could always call Walt on his phone and he would come find and rescue me. But the phone has a built-in camera, so I'm always tempted to take a few pictures. They come in pretty dark, and I have to tweak them to make them presentable. That's what I've done to these. I took them yesterday morning.

16 October 2025

Colors and signs of the season

Above left, the northwest corner of our back yard, with my (red) plum tree and our (yellow) fig tree.
On the right, a grape vine just outside our back gate.

Above left, blood red grape leaves on the northern edge of the vineyard.
Right, grape vines outside our back gate, with our neighbors' houses in the distance.

Above left, a hydrangea in mid-October. Right, firewood waiting to be burned when winter comes.

15 October 2025

A stroll in the vines

Yesterday morning, Tasha the Sheltie and I walked up and down vine rows just outside our back gate.
Here are some the Fall colors we enjoyed seeing.

I haven't mentioned my wrists much this week. That's because I'm doing so much better. My left wrist seems to be completely better. My right wrist still hurts a little bit, but not a 10th of how much it hurt last week. And the swelling, while not completely gone, is hardly noticeable at all. I'm still taking 200 mg of Ibuprofen every morning.

14 October 2025

Chez moi en Caroline du Nord

As I said the other day, I'm feeling a little bit homesick for the town where I grew up. We lived on the North Carolina coast, three blocks (300 meters) from Bogue Sound, a large salt water lagoon. Below are two the photos of the house I grew up in. I actually remember when we moved into the place in 1951... or at least I think I do.

The house was built in 1910, I believe, by my mother's uncle, whose name was Eugene Clifford Willis. Both of my mother's parents had died, one at the age of 43 and the other at 39. My parents rented the house from Uncle Gene, as we called him, in 1951. The rent was $40 a month, I believe.

The house had three bedrooms, a living/dining room, a kitchen, a full bathroom, and an attic. Uncle Gene, as we called him, lived on the same block we lived on. His house was just up the alley or just around the corner, depending on which way you walked over there. He and his wife had taken my mother and her sister in when their parents died. When he himself died in the early 1960s, he left the house to my mother. I lived there until I turned 18 in 1967 and went away to college.

Here are a couple of photos of the waters of Bogue Sound and nearby Beaufort Inlet, which is open to the ocean.

Bogue Sound is 25 miles long and only about a mile wide. Around the area there's almost more water than land. We lived a two-mile drive, part of it over a drawbridge, from the closest ocean beach. As a teenager I could ride my bike over there and go swimming. We lived just six or seven blocks from the downtown business district and also from the town's waterfront, with its seafood restaurants, fishing boats, and fishhouses. I was born in the town's hospital, which was on the waterfront back then.

13 October 2025

Blanquette

Along with coq au vin and bœuf bourguignon, blanquette de veau is one of France's most iconic culinary concoctions. For decades, it was rated no. 1 on polls in France asking people what their favorite dish was; maybe it still is. I make a blanquette at least once a year, and often several times. It's a veal stew (un plat mijoté, or simmered dish) made with veal broth, white wine, cream, mushrooms, and onions. At the table, you squeeze a little bit of lemon juice onto the stew to perk it up. And you serve it, usually, with steamed white rice.

Here's the blanquette I made for lunch yesterday. It's made in two steps: first you simmer some veal (shoulder meat is nice and tender) in a mixture of water and white wine with onions and carrots, for two hours. Then, using some of the broth you get from simmering the veal, you make a white sauce (une sauce béchamel) in which you cook some mushrooms and then re-heat the veal. Voilà.

You can make blanquette with chicken, turkey, or lamb. Follow this link and scroll down to see many posts about blanquettes on this blog.

12 October 2025

No, this is not France

It's North Carolina, the coast, where I grew up. I haven't been back there for six or seven years now. I'm starting to get homesick. Or should I say seasick, because one thing I really miss about it, besided family and friends, is the sea. The Atlantic Ocean, just a few miles from where the Gulf Stream forms and flows northeast across the ocean, taking some warmth to France, Ireland, Great Britain, and Scandinavia.

From the photos I've chosen to post, I guess you can tell that I really enjoy stormy days at the beach.

11 October 2025

Recent red sightings around the hamlet

I'm still pre-occupied by my swollen, painful wrist. It's a strange maladie that I have. When I get up in the morning, the pain is severe and the swelling is at its worst. I take a single Ibuprofen pill (200 mg) as soon as I've eaten my breakfast croissant (shared with Tasha). Then I wait. I go about my life, includin my daily walks with the dog. After lunch, the swelling goes down and the pain is much attenuated. Is it because I've eaten lunch? It's a mystery. Anyway, I spend a pleasant afternoon without much pain.

I don't take any more pills after that early morning one. The evening is pleasant too. I do smear some Ibuprofen gel on the wrist afternoon and evening, though. When bedtime comes, I sleep comfortably for eight or nine hours.

The next morning, I rinse and repeat: my half of a crossant, a cup or two of tea with milk and sugar, and then an Ibuprofen. The swelling has come back overnight. Last night I woke up at midnight and needed to get up. I felt no pain and there was no swelling around the wrist. And this morning the pain is much less acute than it was yesterday morning. I'll go see the doctor again next week... unless the pain and swelling go away before then.

10 October 2025

October vineyard colors...

09 October 2025

Gratin de pommes de terre avec chou kale (ou épinards)

Yesterday for lunch I made a potato and greens casserole. In the freezer I happened to have some finely shredded collard greens that came from Portugal or Spain (I can't remember). I had bought some big potatoes of the Bintje variety, which come mostly from Belgium and are mostly used for frites and for purée.

My first idea was to make purée (mashed potatoes) out of them and use those in a gratin It would be a kind of vegetarian cottage pie. Finally, I realized that mashing the potatoes would be too much of a workout for my pain-ridded, swollen wrist, so I just cut the potatoes into fairly thick slices. I cooked the greens in some olive oil until they were tender. I made a first layer of potato slices, then a layer of greens, and then a second layer of potato slices. I made a top layer of sliced cheese (in this case, Edam cheese from the Netherlands).

Above are some pictures of the result before and after I baked the gratin in a hot oven to melt and brown the cheese. With the au gratin potatoes we enjoyed some poultry sausages (made locally and sold at the Saturday morning market in Saint-Aignan).