Another view

Once again, here's the Fontaine des Mascarons in the village of Séguret. Each of the three "masks" is unique.

Fontaine des Mascarons in Séguret. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

We're expecting a warm day today. More grass cutting! For the record, I only got about half of the west forty cut yesterday. There are some really thick patches that take a lot of energy to push the mower through. Even though the mower is self-propelled, it still takes some effort in the thick grass. And the west forty is the largest section. That leaves Sunday morning for the south forty (we can make noise between 10h00 and 12h00 on Sundays) and that will depend on how quickly the morning dew evaporates.

I'm heading in to the market this morning. Asparagus, radishes, and egg rolls are on the list. I'll also look for some chicken sausages and maybe even some fish. Depends on how busy it is and how long the lines are.

Fontaine des Mascarons

This confirms it. The Fountain of the Masks is in the village of Séguret. So says Wikipedia. And Séguret is where the past few photos were taken. Three grotesque masks adorn the fountain, intended to ward off evil spirits. It dates from the seventeenth century and is classified as a historic monument since 1984.

Two of three mascarons that spit water from their mouths. Yum. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Good news! I was able to mow the north forty yesterday. I'm planning to do the west forty today and, hopefully, the south forty on Saturday. That should hold us for a week or so, until it all has to be done again.

Boutique

Back to Provence, for now. I think this is another shot from Séguret, a hillside town not far from Châteauneuf-du-Pape. It's one of the Côtes du Rhône Villages appellations in the lower portions of the Rhône Valley.

Ceramics, foody things, and wine available in this shop in Séguret.

Which grapes go into Séguret (and other villages wines from the area) is kind of complicated. The primary grape (grenache noir) must make up at least fifty percent of the blend. Two other secondary varieties (syrah and mourvedre) must make up at least twenty percent. Together, these three grapes must make up at least eighty percent of the finished wine. Other blending varieties (too many to mention) are limited to no more than twenty percent. Got it?

Special note to Raybeard: So sorry to learn of Patchie's passing. Twenty years is a long time to spend with a pet (although it's also not long enough). I'm still unable to comment on your blog, so I'm hoping that you'll pass by here one day and find these well wishes.

Where are we now?

I'm not at all sure where these next few images were taken. They could be from Châteauneuf-du-Pape (why, when I type that name, does it always come out as Châteauneuf-du-Papa?). Or, it could be from one of the nearby towns. Séguret comes to mind. I'll continue to look for clues.

This looks like a fig tree beside a curvy street. Provence, September 2001.

It's supposed to be a warm day today. I have plans to go to the market (for asparagus) and to the vet's office to pick up some dental chews and a new sack of kibble for Tasha.

L'envers du décor

This is the other side of the ruins of the castle in Châteauneuf-du-Pape (yesterday's photo). Not much there. But fascinating, nonetheless.

The title of this post means "behind the scenes." Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

We're supposed to have a relatively warm weekend. I'm not expecting things to dry out enough for me to cut the grass, but maybe I'll get some other jobs done. Like picking up the winter's fallen sticks and branches, or digging out the remaining three grape vines, cleaning up the garden path, or pruning the big hydrangea. I don't think it's window washing weather, yet, but there's still no lack of chores to choose from.

Le château neuf

After climbing up the streets and stairways of Châteauneuf-du-Pape, we arrived at the donjon, apparently the only remaining bit of the old "new" castle. And don't let this view fool you; there's nothing behind those walls except air. The castle is a shell of its former self, literally.

Stop and buy some wine while you're at it. Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

It's raining again this morning. I don't know how much soggier things can get. I drove by the river yesterday and it's high. Parts of the island at Saint-Aignan are under water. Fortunately, it's a park and nobody lives there, but there are buildings that could be damaged if the flooding gets worse. This morning it's my turn take Tasha out for her walk in the rain. Unlike Neíl Sedaka, the only laughter I hear is snickering.

Window dressing

It seems like everywhere you turn in France, and probably most of Europe (and beyond!), there's a picturesque window with shutters and pretty flowers. It's hard not to take photos of them and I probably have way too many. Here's another one.

No flowers on this window sill in Châteauneuf-du-Pape, but the color is nice. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

We woke up to light rain this morning. The radar shows that it's moving off soon. I can't believe I'm writing this: we need to dry out a little. River flooding has reached several communities in our area. Thankfully, where we are is mostly high and sort of dry. No leaks to report (knock on wood), although we have been eating leeks this week. LOL. The ground is saturated and everywhere you turn it's spongy and/or muddy.

The streets of Châteauneuf-du-Pape

Here's another snapshot I took while walking toward the ruins of the donjon in Châteauneuf-du-Pape.

Chateauneuf-du-Pape. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

We had a brief thunderstorm yesterday afternoon accompanied by sleet (little ice pellets). There were probably two lightning bolts followed by thunder. Then it was over. There was another giboulée (shower) later in the evening with rain and wind, but no thunder. The weather people are predicting summer-like weather by the end of the week. I hope that they're right.

Valley view

These are some of the Châteauneuf-du-Pape vineyards in the Rhône Valley seen from up in the town. The river is visible in the background. I don't remember the last time I had a C-d-P wine. I'll have to look for one soon. I do, however, know that I've had the more affordable Côtes du Rhône a few times in recent memory.

The Rhône River at Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Today is Easter Sunday and Ken is making our traditional meal of rabbit. This year, it's a kind of rabbit fricassée, a stew of vegetables, rabbit, and white wine. Yum!

Today is also the start of Summer Time. We turned the clocks ahead this morning (I did it all last night before bed). The days are getting longer and now the evenings will be lighter later.

Châteauneuf-du-Pape

It's a small town (a little more than two thousand people) on the Rhône River just south of Orange. The name translates to English as "the Pope's New Castle." In the fourteenth century, popes moved from Rome to Avignon. Not far from there, a "new" castle was built for Pope John XXII. I though that was the origin of the town's name, but Wikipedia tells me that it had been known as Castro Novo as early as the eleventh century, a castro or castrum being the Latin name for a fortified town. It wasn't until the fourteenth century and the construction of a large castle complex and towering donjon that the du Pape part of the name was added. All that remains of that construction is part of the donjon.

A small street leading up to the center of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Of course, people these days associate Châteauneuf-du-Pape with the wine that's produced from mostly grenache grapes (but can also contain some of thirteen other authorized grape varieties) grown on the low lands that surround the town.

Break on through to the other side

Yup, it's the doors again (and windows). Nothing much to say, except that I think I posted a photo of the big door a while back without remembering that it was part of our rental house. I think that the upstairs window (where the shutter is open) is in one of the bedrooms; the ground floor doors on this end of the house were closed to us.

I'd love to see this house today. I wonder how it's changed.

Friday was an exciting day for us. I shampooed the rug in the den and Ken laundered the slip covers on our living room chairs. Spring cleaning has begun. This morning I'm heading over to the market in Saint-Aignan for a few things. Woo-hoo!

Exterior

The gîte we rented in Cavaillon was a big building. Parts of it were closed off, like this, the eastern end of the building. I'm assuming the building was originally a farmhouse, so the doors could lead to storage rooms and such.

What's behind closed doors?

Today's the last day of our warm spell. Starting tomorrow, we'll be back in the single digits for a while. No freezes are predicted. Yet. April can be filled with weather surprises, most notably freezes that kill tender buds on fruit trees and grape vines. We will cross our fingers.

La Durance, seen from Cavaillon

The title says it all. The Durance is une rivière as opposed to un fleuve. That is, it is a tributary of another river (in this case, the Rhône) and does not directly empty into a sea or ocean. The Durance is just over 300 km long (about 200 miles) and, toward its western end, skirts the southern flanks of the Luberon range.

The Durance in September. Not a lot of water. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Nothing at all happened with that giant dump truck vehicle yesterday. I just sits out there. I'll keep an eye on it.* Otherwise, the spirit moved me to get out yesterday afternoon and cut grass! I got the south forty almost all cut (except for a small patch around some trees/shrubs). I need to go out and get some gas for further cutting.

*As I type this, another truck just went out into the vineyard. And I notice there's a big 'ol backhoe out there that I didn't see arrive. Stay tuned.

Above Cavaillon

Just west of central Cavaillon, the land rises up in a rocky outcropping. Various trails (and a road) go to the top, providing visitors with sweeping views of the city below and beyond. to the west and south the Durance River makes its way to the Rhône near Avignon.

One of the many routes to Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle passes this way, I believe. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Yesterday morning, a huge tractor-trailer drove up past our house and out into the vineyard. It had been carrying a very big vehicle, sort of like a dump truck, that was now driving behind. The crew left the dump truck thing out by where the first row of trees was recently cut down and drove the tractor-trailer away.Maybe we'll see today what's going on out there.

The car

This is the car we rented for our 2001 Provence trip. It's a Renault Scénic, I believe. It looks pretty much like any car you can see on the road today. I don't remember much about it. I suppose that's a good thing. We rented it in Paris and drove it down to Provence and back.

Today's cars have more pronounced front ends, as is the style. I prefer this style. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Ken and I are more and more convinced that we've identified the house we rented for this trip in the photo I posted yesterday. With the help of Google Maps and our photos, we're pretty certain now. As soon as I figure out how to add an arrow to the photo, I'll post that. Please try to contain your excitement.

I think I can see it

I think the house we rented back in 2001 is in this photo. I can't be certain. We don't have, or can't find, any paperwork with the address on it, but I remember there was a field between the road and the house on the north side (toward the left in the photo), and an even larger patch of vacant land on the south side (toward the right in the photo). Using Google Maps helped me to locate what could be the place.

Standing in central Cavaillon looking east toward the Luberon. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

The small city where I'm standing is Cavaillon. There is a high spot near the center of town with views in all directions and I think that's where this photo was taken from.

Nesque

Remember les gorges de la Nesque? I recently posted a view of a rock formation in the Nesque river valley that we drove through. This is a wider shot from the same viewing area with that rock formation visible in the lower right.

Nesque River Gorge. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch... I'm watching the grass grow with trepidation. It's really thick in spots. Big spots. I'm hoping for a dry spell so I can start cutting it. When it doesn't rain, we have heavy dew that takes a while to evaporate. I go through this every year. And every year it works out. Eventually.

Le pont Julien

Just north of Bonnieux (Vaucluse) is a Roman bridge, built in the year 3 BCE. According to Wikipedia, the bridge has been in continuous use since. In 2005, however, car traffic was diverted to a new bridge built nearby to reduce wear and tear on the historic monument. Pedestrians and cyclists can still use the old bridge. We visited in 2001, so we were able to drive across. Still, we got out to take photos.

Le pont Julien outside of Bonnieux. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

We're socked in by fog this morning. Predictions are for a warm day (as high as 19ºC depending on which weather service you consult), but recent predictions of similar high temps have fallen short.

Hello gorges

After leaving Venasque, I think we headed northeast to drive through Nesque River Gorge, les gorges de la Nesque. It's a picturesque river valley offering breathtaking views from a single road winding its way through to (or from, depending on which way you go) the town of Sault.

The road through the Nesque valley pierces the rocks in many spots. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

There are a few tunnels along the way, including this one. I suppose it's not really a tunnel, but it's pretty cool nonetheless. There are turnouts along the road so that visitors can pull over and enjoy some the better views. And to take pictures, of course.

One last time

Here's a final view of the church of Notre-Dame in Venasque. Nothing much more to say, other than I must have found it fascinating.

Notre-Dame-de-Venasque. Digitized color slide, September 2001.

I didn't build a fire in the wood stove yesterday. Too much other stuff was going on and tending a fire was not high on the list. I'll probably build one today. This morning's low is around 3ºC. The log pile is getting smaller.