Dinner at the Chateau

Sarah outside l'hotel Edward 1er

Dinner last night at the Restaurant Eléonore was a delight.  The setting was elegant and quintessential French chateau, the clientele in the restaurant was mainly Dutch and British.  Arjan and Marije, the Dutch owners, gave us a warm welcome. It was all very posh and we were on our best behaviour.  I will let the photos do the talking.

Sarah's vegan menu

Darling your flies are undone...

Retail Therapy

did you buy me anything?

There’s only one thing to do when it’s pouring with rain outside – go shopping!  The girls were very eager to partake in a little retail therapy, especially using Daddy’s credit card.  We are dining out tonight at the little chateau in Monpazier and Kat declared she didn’t have a thing to wear.

We visited the Prêt-à-Porter boutique in Montayral and Sarah quickly found a mini skirt and two skinny rib tops. She is very petite and most clothes look good on her.  Kat was  not so lucky, she is tall, athletic with a tiny waist and it is hard to find clothes that fit her well.  The shops close at midday in France so we were under pressure now to find Kat an outfit.  The second boutique looked like a non-starter and then she tried on the jumpsuit.  It looked fab.

“But I haven’t got any shoes to go with it...”

Half an hour before midday closing we hit the shoe shop.  Paul was laden with boxes when we returned to the car. 

Chasing White Vans

tomato soup for lunch

We were having lunch today when Rick started barking and alerted us to presence of a white van driving past the house.  We were expecting a courier to deliver Sarah’s suitcase today so Paul ran outside and chased the van up the road.  He managed to catch up with the courier in the middle of Monsieur Escalier’s farmyard and eventually re-appeared trundling Gandalf the Grey across the field.  At least Sarah can ditch the big white pants now.

Paul trundling Gandalf back home

It is wonderful having both my daughters here and when they are sitting on the sofa giggling and laughing, watching rubbish television, it’s like the clocks have been turned back about fifteen years.  Sarah is putting on a brave face but the veneer is very fragile and I can see that she is struggling.  Hopefully the time she spends here will give her the strength to re-build her life; we can give her plenty of love, laughter and wine while she is here.

Rick and my girls

Where Is Gandalf the Grey?

Only my daughter Sarah would christen her brand new suitcase, she called him Gandalf the Grey.

 

She left Sydney on Saturday afternoon with Gandalf safely stowed away in the aircraft, assured by airport staff that he would be transferred at each stop.  The flight from Abu Dhabi fourteen hours later was delayed and they arrived in Paris Sunday morning with only a short time to get through security and onto the internal flight to Toulouse.  Sarah ran across Charles de Gaulle airport and made it onto the airplane, sadly Gandalf did not.

Paul, Kat and I stood eagerly outside the arrivals hall at Toulouse waiting for the doors to part and Sarah to magically appear.  Alas, she did not.  A text message told us that she was waiting forlornly at the carousel for Gandalf.  Eventually she received a message from Air France informing her that her luggage would not arrive until a later flight.  After some tedious form filling she was told that Gandalf will be delivered by courier on Tuesday.  In the meantime Sarah will have to make do with her mum’s big white pants if she wants some clean underwear. But at least she is home.

Who Does This Woman Belong To?

le Privilege

It might have been the aperitifs, or perhaps the second carafe of vin rouge.  Paul was sticking to one glass of red wine because he was driving so it was all down to Kat and me.  We were lunching at our favourite restaurant in Monpazier,  le Privilege.  Paul and I chose the menu du jour (poached egg on a bed of wild mushrooms followed by pork belly with prunes) while Kat had gazpacho (complete with a little sachet of vodka ) and her old favourite of confit de canard.  The food was excellent. The art decorating the walls was bad.

When we finally left the restaurant I was definitely a little unsteady on my feet and needed to hang on tightly to Paul’s arm to negotiate the cobbled streets of Monpazier.  There were very few tourists about today so it was a pleasure to wander around this medieval bastide town.  Next week we will be returning to Monpazier to dine at a chateau hotel with a chef who is willing to prepare a special menu for vegan daughter Sarah.  I have promised Paul I will stay sober this time.

Hotel Edward 1er

It Wasn't Me Who Did It

Not everyone likes the garish orange colour of marigolds but every year our nursery gives us a few free plants when we buy our geraniums in spring.  Some are planted alongside the tomatoes in the potager and the rest are planted alongside the house steps, they look quite pretty against the stark stone. 

It’s impossible to train a dog not to chase bees and butterflies (not to mention wasps and hornets). The large carpenter bees have been particularly attracted to the marigolds and Rick has taken great delight in leaping from the steps straight into the marigolds.  They are now looking somewhat flattened.  

It wasn't me who did it...