Bedroom, pre-mess.
Kitchen and roommate ("le canadien").
By the front door, the evidence of our workday.
View from the front door and to the right.
The light over the bathtub is the best in the house.
Just another afternoon in Giverny.
Monday, July 6
The House in Giverny
Bedroom, pre-mess.
Kitchen and roommate ("le canadien").
By the front door, the evidence of our workday.
View from the front door and to the right.
The light over the bathtub is the best in the house.
Just another afternoon in Giverny.
Sunday, July 5
In Which Carol Visits and We Have Buckets of Fun, Part Two
(Pictures from late May, in Strasbourg.)
Me and Gutenberg and a carousel.
Carol by the Ill River.
Taking a break in the park aux ponts couverts.
AT L’EPICERIE FOR LUNCH! Carol considers what delicacy to enjoy.
Me and Gutenberg and a carousel.
Carol by the Ill River.
Taking a break in the park aux ponts couverts.
AT L’EPICERIE FOR LUNCH! Carol considers what delicacy to enjoy.
Saturday, July 4
The Garden Update
One of my first greenhouse (les serres) jobs was cutting off the tops of tabac flowers before we replanted them into separate containers. This made me very happy, obviously, padding through these soft petals in yellow and pink. Christian (the serre boss who likes acting grumpy but is in fact a sweetheart) let me take them away in my hat.
The capucines have grown so much in one month!
Les geraniums rouges are one of my most favorite flowers. I've thought of them as "very French" since my friend Stephanie H. told me (many years ago) they were everywhere in Paris. Two weeks ago I found myself snapping off their dead stems right in front of Monet's house; we also pulled delicatement the little dead petals out, and then turned and raked over the ground around them.
I never knew what hollyhocks looked like. They unfurl like folded paper, or curled silk, from perfect geometric buds. These are right in front of the original gate.
And this past week, I have been taking off the dead campanoules, to make a second flowering (une deuxieme fleuraison, like roses).
On the right here is a stalk with many finished blossoms. They need to be snapped off by hand, because if you use un secateur (a hand-cutter-thing) it takes off too much of the stem and "the flower gets confused", as Jean-Luc said.
The capucines have grown so much in one month!
Les geraniums rouges are one of my most favorite flowers. I've thought of them as "very French" since my friend Stephanie H. told me (many years ago) they were everywhere in Paris. Two weeks ago I found myself snapping off their dead stems right in front of Monet's house; we also pulled delicatement the little dead petals out, and then turned and raked over the ground around them.
I never knew what hollyhocks looked like. They unfurl like folded paper, or curled silk, from perfect geometric buds. These are right in front of the original gate.
And this past week, I have been taking off the dead campanoules, to make a second flowering (une deuxieme fleuraison, like roses).
On the right here is a stalk with many finished blossoms. They need to be snapped off by hand, because if you use un secateur (a hand-cutter-thing) it takes off too much of the stem and "the flower gets confused", as Jean-Luc said.
Saturday, June 27
In Which Carol Visits Me and We Have Buckets of Fun, Part One
Our feet on the floor of the Palais Universitaire (Theology Departments!).
Carol's sweet feet on French cafe soil! At the Cafe Brant for a late petit-dejeuner.
And then we decided to climb the cathedral!
Halfway up the staircase:
On the platform!
My dear Place Kléber, seen from the air.
And then we climbed down and kept walking!
To be continued . . .
(Note of clarification for infrequent blog-visitors: I am no longer in Strasbourg! This is a belated posting from May.)
Thursday, June 18
La plus petite jardiniere (un premier coup d'oeil)
I'm getting ahead of myself, since I haven't finished the trips to Mont Ste-Odile or Domremy. But look at these flowers!
Alium, in the same family as garlic (l'ail).
Les pavots finis (finished poppies).
Pivoine! (Peonies!) This was after a day of rain (during which I trimmed roses and got drenched).
Philadelphius coriolanus (sp?).
Capucines! (Nasturtiums!) And a kind of oeillet to the right, along with iris leaves. This is what I did the first day--pulled out everything around the capucines so that they can grow out and flood the main walkway by the end of the summer.
Alium, in the same family as garlic (l'ail).
Les pavots finis (finished poppies).
Pivoine! (Peonies!) This was after a day of rain (during which I trimmed roses and got drenched).
Philadelphius coriolanus (sp?).
Capucines! (Nasturtiums!) And a kind of oeillet to the right, along with iris leaves. This is what I did the first day--pulled out everything around the capucines so that they can grow out and flood the main walkway by the end of the summer.
Sunday, June 14
La gaufre
I celebrated the end of my Strasbourg semester with one last meal at Bistrot et Chocolat, a small and charming place which specializes in (yes!) chocolate of all types in all kinds of dishes.
If you've spoken to me at all in the past few months, you'll have heard about this waffle ("une gaufre"). While the "gaufre au chocolat et chantilly" is pretty standard snacking fare in France, everyone else just gets it wrong. The waffle is always so sweet that the chocolate and chantilly are excessive, and you end up not wanting to eat any more than a fourth of it. The texture is often problematic too; the waffle is sort of hard and crusty, and the chocolate gets lumpy or is too watery.
Not so with this waffle!
What's immediately evident and most important is the waffle itself--it's texture is like twenty very thin crepes folded over into a waffle shape. That is, it's very floppy and sort of chewy. AND, not too sweet at all! The taste is soft, flat, and subtle; more like a good bread than a dessert.
And the chocolate. *swoon*. 70% cacao, melted to the optimal consistency and slightly warm. Not too sweet, not too bitter. With a glass of cool water, a cafe au lait, and some good reading, this is (was) the best way to spend a lazy afternoon.
Ah, and don't forget the good view! Just a few steps away from my most favorite building in France.
If you've spoken to me at all in the past few months, you'll have heard about this waffle ("une gaufre"). While the "gaufre au chocolat et chantilly" is pretty standard snacking fare in France, everyone else just gets it wrong. The waffle is always so sweet that the chocolate and chantilly are excessive, and you end up not wanting to eat any more than a fourth of it. The texture is often problematic too; the waffle is sort of hard and crusty, and the chocolate gets lumpy or is too watery.
Not so with this waffle!
What's immediately evident and most important is the waffle itself--it's texture is like twenty very thin crepes folded over into a waffle shape. That is, it's very floppy and sort of chewy. AND, not too sweet at all! The taste is soft, flat, and subtle; more like a good bread than a dessert.
And the chocolate. *swoon*. 70% cacao, melted to the optimal consistency and slightly warm. Not too sweet, not too bitter. With a glass of cool water, a cafe au lait, and some good reading, this is (was) the best way to spend a lazy afternoon.
Ah, and don't forget the good view! Just a few steps away from my most favorite building in France.
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