The last grate

Here's the last of the photos that I'm posting from the Sologne, taken in 2006. Another grate. I had just got my first digital camera, a Panasonic Lumix bridge camera. For the prior three years I was using one of Ken's pocket digital cameras. And for years before that I took color slides with a Canon EOS Rebel SLR.

This is a small grate, probably for ventilation. Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Our little heat wave continues. Yesterday I cut the west forty, finally. Today I'll finish up with the north forty and the grass will be done yet again. I may even re-do part of the south forty that's grown back up since it was cut earlier in the week.

Hol(e)y grate, Batman

The closer I look at this panel, the more I think it's a wooden plank with holes drilled into it. There looks to be wood grain. The holes are not evenly spaced. I see no visible means of attachment, so it could be attached somehow on the inside or just wedged in.

Grate, Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Our weather got hot, as predicted. What a change! The forecasters are saying that things will stay more or less the same for a few days at least. This morning's low is outside 20ºC (68ºF ).

I shutter to think...

It's a joke. I know how to spell chuddor shoddre shudder.

Shuttered window, Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Not much to say this morning. I've got a haircut appointment. We cooked burgers on the gril grille grill yesterday. Yum! Today we might do chicken parts. Parts is parts.

I have a feeling we're being watched

I wonder what this little door leads to. Perhaps an old coal chute? I'll never know.

I wonder if there's a key for that lock.

I actually wore shorts yesterday for the first time in a month or even six weeks. And I got the south forty mowed, along with the strips outside our hedges. It should be warmer today and downright hot by Thursday. I'll try not to complain. Too much.

Grille

I think this would be called un grillage in French, but I'm not certain. The ground floor windows in our house have wrought iron grilles on them for security, but nothing as fancy as this.

Window grille, Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Dare we believe? The weather people are predicting downright hot temperatures building in this week. No rain in sight. There are a lot of chores waiting for us out in the yard, not the least of which are cutting the grass and weeding more of the vegetable garden. Unless Lucy pulls that football away at the last minute.

Very neat

This is the front yard of a house in Mennetou-sur-Cher (I think). Everything is impeccable. Not a weed to be seen in the gravel. A nice neat row of blue campanules (bellflower). Our house has gravel paths around it and it's a constant battle against weeds. I wonder how they do it? Better living through chemistry, likely.

Simple elegance. Someone spends a lot of time on this.

I'm surprised our heat hasn't come on this morning. It's about 13ºC (about 55ºF) out there. But don't worry! It's predicted to get summery warm again next week! I'm not bettin' the farm on it.

Planeur

I used to see a lot of planeurs (gliders or sailplanes) in the sky above our neighborhood each summer. Since the pandemic, of course, none. Same for hot-air balloons, except I did see one or two in the distance this past spring. The gliders fly in giant circles around warm thermals, sometimes four or five at a time. It's like a silent ballet in the sky.

Un planeur, 2006.

Bert stayed out until about ten-thirty last night. When he came in, he had another mouse. Mmmmm. Tasty.

Green neck

This is un canard colvert (green necked duck), what English speakers call a mallard duck. It's a male with its characteristic bright coloration. The female is more mottled, with no green neck or white collar. In recent years, we've seen breeding pairs on the little pond outside our back gate. They nest on the ground under some shrubs at the edge of the water. The only ducklings I've seen in that time are two that Bert brought home. I'm sure the other neighborhood cats and the ducklings' natural predators (foxes and martens) take the rest.

A male colvert in the Sologne, May 2006.

I'm heading out to the market in a neighboring town this morning to get some more mussels for today's lunch. It's a bigger market than the Saturday market in Saint-Aignan and has several fish mongers, so there should be a good choice.

That darned cat

Bert woke me up last night just after eleven. Meow, meow! I thought he wanted kibble, so I got up and went downstairs to put his bowl down. He went further downstairs to the ground floor. I went back upstairs to bed. A few minutes later, he was back in the loft. Meow, meow! He was insistent. I realized he wanted, or needed, to go outside.

Nothing to do with this post. Public benches, Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Out of bed again, down two flights, and I opened his window. He went out like a shot. I climbed back upstairs, back to bed and, thankfully, to sleep. Around two-thirty this morning he came back in making his "I have a mouse" meow. It woke us both up (and Tasha, too). I stumbled down the stairs and, sure enough, a little mouse lay on its back on the landing rug, tiny feet pointing skyward. Bert stood next to it, waiting for praise. I got a paper towel and took the mouse down to the utility room for Bert to eat. I closed his window so he couldn't go out again. Back to bed, where I tossed and turned for a couple of hours before falling back to sleep. When I woke up at six-twenty, Bert was curled up beside me fast asleep.

Mennetou-sur-Cher

What makes me think that I took the last two photos in the small town of Mennetou-sur-Cher is that among them is this one, which is definitely of Mennetou. The old center still has part of its medieval wall, including a couple of portals like the one in this picture. And there's a plaque on one of them that says, more or less, Joan of Arc slept here. She set the example for George Washington to follow centuries later.

One of the portals in Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

You might be surprised, but our weather sucks. Summer has taken a holiday. A long holiday. The weather is not really unpleasant, and it's certainly better than sweltering in extreme heat and high humidity. But it's still a little weird to be sleeping under blankets and wearing fleece jackets in early August. At least here where we live. Oh well. This, too, shall pass.

More from the Sologne

I'm not sure where this photo was taken, but it might be in the small town of Mennetou-sur-Cher. I know we were there with our California friends back in 2006 and spent a little time wandering around in the old center.

A pretty street scene, possibly in Mennetou-sur-Cher, May 2006.

Ken and I really enjoyed our lunch of moules et frites (mussels and fries) yesterday. It was so good that I'm thinking of going over to a neighboring town's market on Friday for some more. That market has at least three fish mongers and I'll do some comparison shopping. Ken's blog post for today has some photos of our lunch.

Somewhere in the Sologne

The Sologne is a historical province in central France a little south and west of Orléans, south of the Loire River. Where we live is on its southwestern edge. In fact, Saint-Aignan is at the intersection of three historical provinces: la Sologne, le Berry, and la Touraine. This is a photo taken somewhere in that region from back in 2006 when we were exploring with some friends from California. This week's image of the week (in the sidebar), the Château de la Ferté-Imbault, was also taken then.

A Renault 4 (model TL) in a carport somewhere in the Sologne. Ken owned one of these cars many moons ago.

I was successful at the market yesterday and today we will be eating mussels for lunch. We'll either make them à la marinière (with shallots and white wine) or à la crème (with cream). I'm not sure which, yet. We'll serve them with French fries. Moules et frites (mussels and fries) is a classic dish served in many Parisian cafés and brasseries and in most coastal restaurants. Everywhere in France, really.