Showing posts with label France. Show all posts
Showing posts with label France. Show all posts

October 13, 2013

Happy Thanksgiving, Passive Aggressive Style

Ooof!  It's that time of year again.  The time of year where families happily unite over turkey and mash, gravy, cranberries, squash, stuffing, brussel sprouts... or maybe you're having manicotti instead.  Or pizza.  And maybe you're fighting.

Best not to dwell...



I have been invited to two family feasts - one at my Mom's (above for manicotti) and one at my s.i.l.'s (traditional).  I have been asked to bring NOTHING to my mother's except for an empty relish tray (she is going to fill it with--- relish?), and a DESSERT to my sil's.

Like I am going to bring "nothing" to my Mom's!  When I asked her what to bring (on Friday afternoon, she said, well you're leaving it a little late, aren't you?)  That's how I roll, Mom, that's how I roll.

Bring nothing.  gah.  I mean, I am definitely a rudesby, but even I am not that rude.


update - I am writing this one day later.  I made pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and brought them to my Mom's.   They seemed to be a hit.  They looked gooey and chocolatey and how can you go wrong with that?  I also made the dough in less than 15 minutes and that included jumping into the van and driving down the street to the grocery to pick up the can of pumpkin that I forgot to buy the day before.  Baking time was 10 mins.  EASY!!!!!





So I brought the flowers on the table above and a bunch of cookies.  And my cheerful disposition of course.  And the food and the company were lovely.  Thanks, Nan.

**********

Feast #2 - Last year, I brought a dessert to my m.i.l.'s (pumpkin cheesecake), and due to the abundance of desserts that others brought, I don't think anyone actually ate my dessert.  What was I thinking anyway?  Who wants cheesecake after gorging themselves on turk?

I realize that I have just told a lie, two people took a sliver of the p.c. to be nice.  Thank you, food troopers.  I am going to sound rude here again, but I resent being asked to contribute food that no one actually eats.

Bitchy?  Maybe.

I guess I should just be thankful that anyone invites me to their home for Thanksgiving, especially as I am airing the dirty family laundry on my blog.

Prediction:  next year, I dine alone.

I wanted to bring roasted vegetables with maple ginger dressing to the inlaws, which EVERYONE eats because they are completely delicious but I have been instructed by voicemail not to do this.  I am sorely tempted to bring the veg, but rather than incur the wrath of all, I will bring dessert.

And so I find myself in the position of having to bring a dessert that no one will eat.  I don't like to make dessert.  At this point in my life, I gravitate to the roasted vegetables -- yum -- and tend to skip dessert because I am usually too full of turkey.  I am tempted to bring chocolate chip cookies to the inlaws too because who doesn't like a chocolate chip cookie? but I thought I might get in doo-doo for making something unseasonal.  Truth be told, I would be making them knowing that no one will eat them and then I could take the leftovers home (people tend to decline my leftover desserts), and pop them in the freezer for the kids' lunchboxes.  soundbite: evil laugh -  mwah, ha ha ha hah ahhh...

So I am perplexed.  What shall I make?  You already know that last year's pumpkin cheesecake was a bomb - not da bomb! - and so I am not making that again.  Pumpkin pie?  I make a good pumpkin pie, but it's a lot of work.  And I am not a fan of pumpkin pie.  I have a great recipe for it though.  You make it entirely from scratch, using a pie pumpkin that you may or may not have grown.  rolling eyes.  It all seems very Martha, doesn't it?  Meaning that after you make it, you'll feel compelled to tell everyone that you made the filling from a bona fide pumpkin that you may or may not have picked yourself, and you'll sit back smugly as someone else pulls out a $2.99 Jane Parker pie from the A & P.  Snap!

Still puzzled, I googled "thanksgiving desserts best" (not my best keyword search but it worked) and came up with this, from the Food and Wine website:

Apple Galette
I personally think that the apples look a little too carmelized here burnt here, but that's me.  The recipe is Jacques Pépin's Country Apple Galette.  I am assuming that JP - French chef extraordinaire - knows how to make a kickass galette and so that's what I will attempt.  Right now it's 10am and we have to be at the inlaws for 1pm.  I better get on it.

A galette is actually not difficult.  It looks impressive, but there is little fiddling around with pastry - the messier it looks, the better.

So I pulled out the Braun -- best food processor EVER - and made the crust.  (I actually did this part yesterday and let it chill in the fridge overnight).  The recette calls for 1 stick of butter plus 2 tbsp, but that is just annoying because we don't buy our butter in sticks here in Canada.  So what you'll really need is a 1/2 cup, plus 2 tbsp of beurre.

  • 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
  • 1 1/2 teaspoons sugar
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 cup of butter plus 2 tbsp cold unsalted butter, cut into small pieces
  • 1/3 cup ice water

Whir together the flour, sugar, salt and butter for about 5 seconds.  Add the ice water and blend until dough is just coming together.  (10 seconds?).  Dump out into bowl and mix it together with your hands, just to get it into a ball.  Wrap it up in some saran wrap and chill for at least an hour.

That's where I'm at.

I am going to the kitchen to roll out my dough and decorate it with apples.

*********

Okay, it's in the oven and I am STOKED.  That dessert was super-easy.  It's only 10:30 right now!  That means that I have a LOT of time to do totally selfish activities like write this blog, knit my sweater and read before we have to go!  yes!!!!!

Let me tell you about the dessert.  I dragged G off the tube (but Mumma, Jessie's on!!) and put her to work.  Here she is, tethered to our island  kiddy table, peeling and coring apples with the best tool ever invented, which I purchased at a yard sale for $3 (they wanted $5, but I am a haggler):

Pampered Chef Apple Peeler and Corer

The tool had never been used; it was still in the box.  

Can I just tell you that this implement is a marvel?  It is so easy to use that even the G can set it up and do it herself and she's only 7!  You crank that handle and the magic happens:

And look at the pretty ribbons of apple peel.  Eat your heart out, Ma Ingalls!
Maybe others are already aware of the peeler and are annoyed by moi, but I am new to it and using it is like watching a baby being born.  Seriously, I am THAT excited.  Look at this bowl full of peeled, cored and sliced apples.  I am tearing up; such beauty.  It took Gwen less than 5 minutes to assemble apples, peel, core and slice them.  Crying here.




Okay, must compose myself.  Moving on...

Next step, roll out dough.  This took less than 5 minutes and it didn't stick to my counter, rolling pin or hands (secret? use lots of flour!).  I folded it in half after rolling and dumped it onto the cookie sheet.  This picture also makes me cry.

yowza!
I chopped up half of the apples and threw them on the dough, then stacked the rest of the apples in what was supposed to be a pleasing arrangement.  I give myself 5 out of 10 for arranging, but I hate fussing so this is what I ended up with after I dotted said apples with honey, butter and a mixture of cinnamon and sugar:



I am impressed.

It's baking right now, it smells awesome in here, and it has 20 mins to go.  I cannot wait to see the finished product!!!!

********

Thank you, technology.

Here is the galette, straight from the oven and it looks amazing!  I feel compelled to add two pictures because I am so proud.  




My my my.

I hope it tastes good. What am I talking about? It is going to taste exactly like the BEST GALETTE IN THE WORLD should taste!

Happy Thanksgiving!  I am thankful for my family, friends, health and life.

*****


A note on the cookies:  these cookies are not crispy.  The pumpkin makes them soft and slightly cakey. There is no way around this, unfortunately.  Also note that there are no eggs in these cookies.  The pumpkin does the work of the egg.

this recipe is from:  http://sallysbakingaddiction.com/2013/09/04/pumpkin-chocolate-chip-cookies/

Note on the galette:  I used Honeycrisp apples.  I hate Delicious apples.  The honey I used came from Clovermead in Aylmer and you need to use more than a tbsp.  Oh and for my galette, I made more pastry than the recipe called for (about a third more).  I baked the tart for 50 minutes exactly.

from:  http://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/country-apple-galette

Addendum:  see if you can spot my galette in this picture:



hmmmmn... where could it be?  There's a big bowl of strawberries, an apple pie, an angel food cake, two pumpkin pies, another apple pie and...  oh yes, my galette.  That's it, on top of the "piano" box, under all the tinfoil and pot lid. mmm... looks so delicious, doesn't it?

In case you doubt my recollection of events, here is another picture in which you can see it peeking out from beneath all the crap piled on top of it.



Soundtrack:  Alanis Morrisette's Thank You



Addendum - that galette was DELICIOUS!  Even Nathanimal, who declares himself a hater of pie, ate three pieces and this morning, he asked me to make another!  Who knew?





September 06, 2013

The French Invade Canada

It is September and I haven't written anything about my Nacel experience.  It be time, people.

Nacel Canada is a not for profit organization that pairs international students with hosts, "promoting international understanding and language education... enhancing cultural and linguistic awareness".  So in a nutshell, London and area families host one or more French students (from France, not Quebec) for a period of 3 or 4 weeks.

Payment is $600 for four weeks.  This is not a money-making venture.  A three week stay pays $450.  You are expected to pay for all the student's meals (includes dining in restaurants) and incidentals.  The student pays his/her own admission to places like Canada's Wonderland.  I found that with all the sightseeing we did, we spent a LOT more than $600; however, I was perfectly happy to do so.

You can click here to read a more detailed account of the first half of this story.  If you don't want to read the first part because you are lazy, disinterested and/or pressed for time, here's what you need to know:

In July, Nacel's program administrator, Gayle, called me and inquired about the possibility of us hosting a student for a month.  She had an emergency situation and was desperate.  I stepped in because I like to play the heroine.  :-)

Clémence, a seventeen year old girl from Nantes, arrived on July the 4th.  Before we met, I did worry that she might be a big French freak!  My concerns were completely unfounded.  She was friendly, had a good sense of humour and she quickly made herself at home.  By the "making herself at home" part, I mean that when I told her I didn't make breakfast for my children, and lunch was often serve yourself, she wasn't shy about getting acquainted with the kitchen.  I suppose that if you are hungry (and every day there exists a very good possibility of experiencing said hunger) you will seek out food.  At 17, you should be able to fix up some food for yourself.

C was a typical teenager:
  • she was attached to her tablet by umbilical cord 
  • she had a deep and abiding love of potato chips and "Starbuck" (she couldn't say it with the 's'!).   
  • she liked to sleep and hang out in her room
She also did a fair bit of jogging; I am uncertain whether that is typical of the youth of today.

I was supposed to homeschool C but she would have none of it.  Her words:  "I didn't sign up for that".

Okayyyyyyyyy.

I didn't think that it was my job to sit her at our dining room table and force her to read the newspaper and discuss current events, especially as her English was already almost parfait, much better than my French.  And so, my homeschooling efforts were more surreptitious:   we talked a lot, played board games (Rummikub, Cartagena and Rummoli), we cooked together (muffins - I have posted two recipes below), we went for walks and hung out.  These are all excellent ways to learn a language.  We also went on a bike ride, but I couldn't get her into the pool (too cold!) or get her on White Water Canyon (her hair!) at Canada's Wonderland. 

Before you read about all the fun things we did while C was here, I should let you know that we hosted another student in August, who was also in an "emergency" situation.  What is with Nacel and all of these emergency situations?  The second student was fifteen years old, also from France (Toulouse) and had been staying in London with a family of 5.  Both parents worked and the children were cared for by a nanny, who had her own newborn to look after in addition to the others.  Without going into too much detail, no outings and an army of small children who require care do not make for a fun trip.

Jeanne fit in to our family amazingly well.  She was quiet, helpful, considerate and very good-natured.   She and Gwenny, my seven-year-old daughter, loved doing each other's hair and cuddling.  They were very cute together.

By no means an exhaustive list, here's what we did over the course of July and August:

Sunfest
Sunfest is an annual summer festival held in Victoria Park that promotes music, dance and visual arts.  The day we attended was bloody hot.  Clémence seemed to enjoy the tunes and the artisans.  My kids? Not so much.  Their highlight was hanging out with a large group of pierced, tattooed and grubby hippies in a drumming circle.  Gwen hula hooped and Nathaniel slack-lined.  The odour of patchouli was overwhelming.  One girl's shirt read Fuck Malls.  I was glad that Gwen couldn't read.   

Cottaging near Parry Sound
My awesome neighbours, Nic and Caitie, invited us up to their heavenly spot on McKellar Lake.  We swam, fished, feasted on the fish we caught, played games, toured Parry Sound, read mags and thoroughly enjoyed Canadian cottage life.


Nic and Nathaniel, and a little fish-wrangling.  This is one of Nathaniel's big catches that we later dined on,  I think.


view from the Parry Sound water tower


top of the water tower - it was windy!




Self portrait


Sunset and thin slice of moon, ahhhhhhh...

Grand Bend
My sister-in-law and her family hosted our student for three days at their cottage. GB is a teenager's paradise:  there is a trashy and expensive strip with shops selling beachwear and souvenirs, and divey bars and restaurants all frequented by the scantily clad youth of today.  I think Clémence enjoyed it.

Here we are enjoying a lobster boil (mini potatoes, shrimp, chorizo, lobster and corn) in honour of my niece's birthday.

Paul and the giant pot
I annoyed and disgusted everyone at the party by discussing how the lobsters are boiled alive.  I think it's important to acknowledge how your food gets to the table and how it is prepared.  This doesn't always make me a popular person, but I can't help myself.  So while I am not comfortable dunking a live lobster in a pot of boiling water, I did eat the cooked lobster.  I guess that makes me a hypocrite.  It seems to me that there must be a more humane way of killing lobsters than by boiling them to death.  As I have never hosted my own lobster boil, I have not researched potential solutions to my ethical dilemma.

Here I am, ostracized by the rest of the guests.  :-)  At least DjingDjang still loves me.


Django and I before our haircuts.  

Now, we both look idiotic.  Who am I kidding?  We look idiotic here too.


Salty brine (water, lemons, garlic, paprika, salt and peper, herbs) prepared by Paul


The big dump.  


I drank a third of a cup of butter.  As disgusting as it sounds,  I dipped everything in butter,  even sausage.
My brother-in-law and sister-in-law are awesome, generous hosts and they really know how to prepare a feast.

Clovermead, Sparta, Port Stanley
I took Clémence and two Spanish girls that my friend was hosting to Clovermead, which is an apiary near Aylmer.  There's a shop that offers samples of flavoured honey and an historic "town" that you can tour.


The Spanish students and Clémence, in front of one of the many bee displays
We also visited Sparta, which was a first for me.  Sparta is purportedly the candle capital of Canada. 

Try to say "candle capital of Canada" five times fast!

The entire town reeks of a scented candle.  Of course, we had to visit the main candle shop and I got sucked into buying an infuser that I later gifted to Clémence.  Why, you ask?  Because:
  • it stank like the town
  • C wanted it and offered to buy it from me.  There was no way that I was driving back there to suffer another visit to Stinktown
  • I was feeling generous and wanted to give her a going-away gift.



The girls made me stop the car and take many pictures of them beneath a Sparta town-sign, which they thought was hilarious!

I think they've seen too many Sparta Remix videos on youtube:


THIS IS SPARTA!

A word on Sparta remixes.  Do NOT look them up on Youtube unless you enjoy maniacal, anxiety-inducing, hyperspeed technosynth interspersed with King Leonidas screaming THIS IS SPARTA!  Here, I've made it easy for you, if you are indeed curious.  Don't say I didn't warn you.









As pour moi, the "Spartan" highlights were leaving the sickeningly sweet smelling candle shop and  yes! finding a mouldy twenty on someone's front lawn.  I treated everyone to ice cream and the shop we visited even had my favourite flavour - coconut!

Port Stanley Little Beach
After P.S., we stopped at Picard's Peanuts for a nut fix.  Well I wanted a nut fix, I am uncertain whether anyone else actually craved nuts.  I purchased a lot of chocolate covered items (toffee, peanuts, raisins, chips and pretzels).  I looked for some chocolate covered olives but I couldn't find any.  The chocolate covered carrots were also missing. ;-)

Our last stop was the Jumbo monument in St. Thomas.  This reproduction of the giant pachyderm has always appealed to me - it's very kitsch.  I can't help but wonder what it must have been like to see the train bear down on poor Jumbo.  And the elephant carnage on the tracks! Oi!  How did they remove Jumbo's body?  There's a story percolating...  I think I might have to do some research in the London Room...




The girls adored Jumbo.  Not as much as they obsessed over the Sparta sign, but still!

There's more to tell, but I will save that for my next post.  In the meantime, here are two of my go-to muffin recipes.  I use both of these recipes ALL THE TIME.  I am going to vent here for a minute.  You know what I hate?  People who refuse to share recipes.  I used to work with a woman who made lemon squares and she wouldn't give me her recipe and I love lemon squares.  So I share.  Because that woman really pissed me off.  As George Eliot wrote:
"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"
Clémence contacted me two days ago on FB and asked me for some of my muffin recipes because she missed them!  That made me feel really good.  I know my muffins are yummy, but I didn't realize that C actually enjoyed them.  I mean, she ate them and all, but I thought it was for sustenance more than pleasure.  I have tweaked the recipes A LOT, and I can assure you that they are delicious and more nutritious than anything you will buy at the grocery store.  I usually make double batches, giving some muffins to my neighbours, keeping a dozen out on the counter and freezing the rest for lunchboxes.

I am assuming that most of you have a basic understanding of baking, so you will already know that you first mix the dry ingredients in one bowl, then mix up the remaining ingredients (wet) in a different bowl, and then combine the two.  Mix them together just until the flour disappears.  Don't over-mix or you will have tough muff.  From the Joy of Baking:
Mixing too much overdevelops the gluten in the flour which will cause a tough muffin with tunnels and a compact texture.  Only 10 to 15 strokes are needed to moisten the ingredients.  The batter should be still (sic) lumpy and you may still see a few traces of flour.  
A note on butter versus oil.  You will see that both of these recipes call for vegetable or canola oil.  I am pro-butter myself, but I have found that these two recipes have a better result with the oil -- the muffins are more moist.  And I am all about moist.  Hockey pucks masquerading as muffins will be rejected by this baker's maw.

Sorry for the chickenscratch below.  I actually tried to write neatly! I was going to take pictures of my recipe cards but they look disgusting (big greasy stains all over them) and make no sense to anyone but me.

You can use any combo of white and whole wheat flours, brown or white sugar and I often omit the salt.  To make cream cheese frosting, just dump some cc in a bowl, add icing sugar and milk or cream to thin it.  You can also add some vanilla extract.  Don't buy the fake vanilla extract.  Buy the real stuff.  


You don't have to use an electric mixer.  I usually just use a wooden spoon, because I don't like doing dishes.
 


Sept 11, 2013 - I just made the double chocolate zucchini today.  They ROCK! 

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Soundtrack:  Martha and the Muffins.  Echo Beach





July 03, 2013

Chantez, Chantez, Sing a Little Paris Song!

A little more than a year ago, I got suckered into giving someone my contact information in exchange for this:



Yes friends, I gave out my personal info for a lipstick.  I come cheap, I guess; pathetic, I know.  And the lipstick was a horrible orange colour that did not suit my skintone. Damn my swag-loving self.

Several weeks ago, I received a telephone call from Nacel Canada, the very organization that had handed out the free lipstick.  They wondered whether I was still interested in participating in the homeschooling program.

Huh?

I was a little taken aback, as I had completely forgotten about the program and the reason I received a crappy lipstick for free; however, I am always up for a challenge (and fodder for my blog!) and so I said that I would do it.  July 2013 was too soon (hernia surgery for yours truly) and so I suggested that we would give it the old college try in August.  I hung up the phone, not really expecting to hear from them again any time soon.

the manual

Flash-forward a few weeks.

Nacel called again two days ago and this time they seemed somewhat desperate.  They had a French student, whom I'll call C, 17 years of age, who had previously been placed with a family of smokers (who only smoked outside, apparently).  The young lady's parents did not approve, especially because their daughter has exercise-induced asthma.  The smokers were almost immediately rejected by the family and the jeune fille was placed in another home.  A week or so later, the new hostess decided that she didn't really want to participate in the program and so the young lady was again homeless.  Was there any way that we could accommodate the student?

Well of course we could!

We received the young lady's profile, which I am NOT going to post publicly (I do have some scruples!).  G, the chatty and huggy coordinator, visited us the same day that we spoke on the phone and did a house visit / interview.  She asked us a few questions (do you smoke?), inspected the room that was to be the student's, took some pictures of our house, admired our art (she's an art lover too!), and explained the program to us.  She was here for about an hour.  She thought that we would be fine candidates because we are both home all day - RB's a teacher and I am a SAHM / librarian.  She approved us on the spot - to my surprise! - and that was that.  I would like to point out that the approval process seems somewhat laissez-faire, which is RIGHT up my alley.  G did not ask us for a police check (seriously!).  In fact, I brought it up:  "What about police checks?"

G was nonfazed:  "I administer quite a few of these programs and Nacel is the only one that does not require a police check".

I was nonplussed.  In this day and age of the moral majority's complete fear and loathing of strangers (I blame the media), there still exists an international program that does not require participants to have police checks? What is this world coming to, I ask you?  RB and I have current police checks as he is a teacher and I am a professional volunteer.  We are good people (most of the time, well, excepting my recent interactions with a psychotic neighbour in which I attempted to drive him insane).

Yes, you read it right.  NO POLICE CHECKS NEEDED.  I personally don't feel that it's a big deal, in fact I kind of like it; however, I do find it to be strange.  I would NEVER send a 17-year old Gwen to a strange family's home without a proper background check.  Well, I say that now, but is she only 7 and still very much my baby. Call me hypervigilant when it comes to my own children, but a total hippie otherwise.

Here's a brief summary of the program:

  • C arrives.  We speak English only.  NO FRENCH! As if.  I am totally going to speak a little bit of Franglais just to make C laugh
  • C hangs with us every hour of every day.  Yes, this part is true. Nacel's curfew is 7pm if C is out in the evening without us (begs to be broken!).  Also funny, Nacel does not want the students mixing with others in the program.  More on that later.
  • There is a homeschooling program, but it seems very loosey-goosey.  The point of the program is to "offer students an opportunity to learn English in a family setting... improving language skills and Canadian cultural understanding".  Basically, there is a lot of chatting involved and you all know that I love to chitchat. Sample lessons include playing 20 questions (as a family, we are obsessed with this game) and giving each other compliments:  Why Christine, that shade of lipstick is so becoming on you.  
  • We have a one page "check-in chart" to fill out to prove that we have done some homeschoolin': "PLEASE NOTE:  'CHECK-IN CHART' IS YOUR ONLY PROOF OF DELIVERY OF PROGRAM, BY YOU TO STUDENT".  Awesome, this program rocks!  I love it already.  Check this out. Looks tough, dudnit?
This is my kind of form!


Last night, we received an email from C, asking us for a family photo. Why yes, I would be happy to send you our picture.  This is what I sent:


...........................................









........................










...............................  wait for it...







................







.........................








.................



How funny is that? Yes, I am a sick individual.

In my defence, I only made her suffer for about 5 minutes and then I sent her not one, but two photos of us, in which we look moderately appealing:

Lord Roberts Funfair photo booth

Christmas 2012 - fancy schmancy!

And so it's 8am-ish on Wednesday and we are awaiting C's arrival (tomorrow evening at 11-ish at the Costco parking lot).  I will post again in a week or so.

Update
It's Thursday at 11:51pm.  We were supposed to have picked up C at 11pm.  There's been a three hour delay, dammit. The plane has been delayed and it sucks.  RB is sleeping and I'm burning the midnight oil by reading Shogun.  Someone was just boiled alive in a pot of water.  Why do I do this to myself?  Why why why?

Clémence arrived at 2:35am.  She was as happy, friendly and smiley as someone who has spent the entire day traveling can be.

Updates to come.


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Part 2 - click here!







October 29, 2012

The Kids Drove Me Mad; The Wine and Chocolate Kept Me Sane. Houses Exchanged, Part 2.

I really should be planning my daughter's 7th birthday party, which is in 4 days - eeek!  I haven't made up the invites nor have I finished sewing her birthday quilt which I began last February.  I also have to update my resume and write a cover letter; try to unload our washing machine (pun intended) on Kijiji and perform additional mindless and menial tasks.  Recently a friend asked when I was going to finish up the house exchange post and I realized that I have been neglecting my blog.  So here it goes, le plus rapidement possible.

Let's see... where did I leave off? Oh yes, August of 2012.   We were about to brave some wicked French traffic...

After taking the RER to the airport hotel, we claimed our cute black Peugeot from the underground parking.  Thank goodness for the Frenchies' GPS - we would have been up caca creek without it.  Jetlag; crazed French drivers, chaotic roundabouts, demons wrestling in the backseat, hysteria in the front, all compounded by our fervent desire to arrive alive made for a somewhat dicey journey to Guer.

An obscene toll of 28 euros and 5 hours of erratic driving later, we were driving into the village.  We were immediately charmed by the landscape - lots of lush, green farmer's fields, ancient stone houses and pops of bright flora everywhere.  It was the tail end of the hydrangea display but I did manage to snap a few pictures.









We were very eager to get to our home away from home and when we turned the car into a charming laneway and saw what we thought was the Frenchies abode, I was thrilled.

Richard got out of the vehicle and tried to open the large iron gate.  Nothing happened.  I consulted our papers.
Hmmn... there's nothing about a keypad.

Richard began to punch in random numbers.  I rolled my eyes:  Like this is gonna work, rockstar.

Then he shook the gate a bit.  This would have been funny if we weren't so tired.  Oddly enough, the gate opened and a woman appeared.  Richard said what I can only assume to be something along the lines of "we're here!" but the woman looked startled and then confused.  I got out of the car to help because RB's French is comparable to my German.  Eventually, after some namedropping, the woman deduced that we wanted a maison and she pointed down the laneway.  Ha ha ha, we all laughed.  It was a bit socially awkward and I'm not entirely sure that the woman thought we were sane.

Here's Nathaniel standing in the laneway, followed by a photo of our French hideaway.



The house was pale stucco, very modern in appearance, and nicely situated on a very private lot with lots of flowers and a biggish yard with pear, apple and plum trees.  Without going into too much detail, the kitchen was well-appointed with all the usual appliances, the rooms were spacious, they had two bathrooms (toilets only) and two washrooms (tub and shower).

The Frenchies were very thoughtful folk: they had left us a bag of juicy oranges to use in their juicer;  two bottles of wine and local cider and a note wishing us a pleasant stay.  Also on the table were loads of travel pamphlets and leaflets, a binder with house info (who to call, insurance stuff, garbage day, phone numbers etc).  We signed their guestbook and were surprised to learn that they had participated in four previous exchanges (a different part of France, Spain, Germany and another European destination that I can't recall).

The house was tidy and very comfortable; I was completely at ease. Their decor was upscale Ikea with lots of pottery, bright walls and modern art (they had an abstract mural painted on one cinder block wall which I thought was very cool). The kids liked the the French version of "Craftmatic" beds, which were motorized.  I could get used to those beds; it made reading before lights out, very cozy.  I could also get used to their "femme de manage", who came in once a week, on Thursdays.  No wonder the blasted house was so clean!

I didn't take any pictures of the interior of the house so here are a few pictures of the local landscape:  Guer's trails, farmer's fields, the beach at Carnac, the menhirs, and the next door neighbour's horse.

Carnac


Biking through the French countryside


on the bike trail, the small Marian shrine, a copy of the grotto of Lourdes

gorgeous countryside on a perfect summer's afternoon

beautiful vista on the bikepath


cairn at Locmariaquer
menhirs at Carnac, dating to around 4500 BC


The festival of the Madonna of the Bikers, which organizers promote as the largest motorcycle “pilgrimage” in France

I have never seen so many motorcycles in my life!

the neighbour's horse



Looking back at these pictures, I realize that I miss our days in Guer:  fresh pain au chocolat, cheap and plentiful wine and cheese, baguettes fresh from the oven for 80 cents and the venerable religieuse: a tower of custard filled pastry that defines gustatory pleasure.  I miss the amazing boulanger that was a minute's stroll from our backyard, the hydrangeas and rhododendrons, the stone cottages, the easy living.  These are the things that I am missing.  Richard is missing the myriad "roundabouts", which are so much more fun, efficient and stylish (if roadways can be stylish!) than stoplights.  We do have one here in London near Trafalgar Road and we rode through it recently on the way to my inlaw's.  I patted Richard's arm to console him.

What I am not missing:  my children fighting in the backseat of the Frenchies' car!

To sum up: I would definitely do another exchange.  When we returned home, our house looked and smelled exactly like it was supposed to, which was a relief.  My houseplants (two orchids, a jade plant, a desert rose and a Chinese money plant) were all very thirsty, but still alive,  so that was good.  The Frenchies left the house in pretty good shape, except for the mirror in the upstairs bathroom, which was splattered with toothbrush detritus and zit juice.  I did have one truly horrifying moment, which occurred the day we arrived home.  When I opened the microwave to reheat my coffee (sadly, an oft-repeated activity during a typical day), I realized that there was something still inside.  The something was three zombified half cobs of corn, writhing with maggots and tiny flies!  Truly repulsive.  I slammed the door and retreated and of course, called the hubs to deal with the mess.  This aside, there were no major problems.

So I suppose, my only problem now is to decide where we should go next and find someone who is ready and willing to swap!

Here is a video that my husband made with some highlights of our trip. I love it!!