Painting in the sky

Sunday's sunrise was probably the last we'll see like this in 2012. Today we're under overcast skies, but yesterday the relatively clear sky was painted with bands of low clouds and airline contrails. As the sun reached the horizon, the contrails shone bright white as if someone had drawn a brush across a blue canvas.

The last clear morning of 2012. Let's hope we have plenty like this in 2013.

The undersides of the clouds were tinted orange and red for a few brief minutes. I'll post one of those shots soon.

The thirteenth moon

I mentioned yesterday in my "newsiness" section that we just had the thirteenth full moon of 2012. I read about it on one of my favorite science websites, Phil Plait's Bad Astronomy. He pointed out that every third year we get a thirteenth full moon due to the length of the year (the earth's orbit around the sun) and the length of the moon's cycle (its orbit around the earth).

Full moon setting, 29 December 2012.

On Saturday morning we were surprised with a clear sky and the full moon setting spectacularly in the west. I got the camera out, attached the telephoto lens, and snapped a few shots from the guest room window. I had to work fast because the moon was starting to set behind some low clouds. I was shooting through the linden tree branches; I think they give the picture an eerie quality.

I heard it through the grapevine

These grapes grow up against a stone building out in the vineyard. The little building is an old cabane du vigneron (grower's cabin) that is locked up, unused. These old buildings sprinkled here and there in the vineyards used to serve as storage buildings and shelters for taking lunch while working in the vineyard. That was back in the day before cars and tractors made it easy to go home for the mid-day meal.

These grapes are on their way to becoming raisins.

Several old vines adorn the sides of this building, and while the grapes are not harvested for wine, the grower still prunes the vines back every year to ensure healthy growth in the spring and summer. The grapes are tasty and available to those of us who walk by on a late summer's day. The rest are for the wildlife.

A burning barrel

This barrel belongs to one of the growers who owns parcels out behind our house. As he prunes the vines, he burns the cut sarments (vine shoots) in this home-made burner. He is already finished with his parcels that are closest to us, so we won't likely be seeing him out there again until spring.

The burn barrel on a frosty morning. Another grower works on his vines across the road.

The grower with the largest parcels out back hasn't started yet. His crew must be working on other parcels. It won't be long, however, until we see them out there every day for a month or two. They don't burn the sarments, but line them up between the rows. Later, they will pull a broyeur (grinder) behind a tractor to mulch the trimmings in place.

I know that I talk about this every year. My blog is getting repetitive. But that's life, isn't it?

Another door

Why are we so attracted to doors when we have cameras in our hands? I suppose a door presents us with an easy shot. It's still and more or less flat. No serious lighting, focus, or depth-of-field issues to make us crazy.

The geometry of doors can be interesting, too.

This door is in the nearby town of Montrichard. I liked the metal parts, especially the spiral handle on the left.

Fruitcake

This cake is made from a recipe that I got from a friend, Susan of Days on the Claise. I'm not sure (so I hope she'll clarify) if the recipe is Australian or English. My memory isn't what it used to be. This is the second time I've made it and I know I'll make it again.

A slice of Christmas pudding. Fruitcake and cream.

It's a very dense cake, but moist and flavorful. This time I used black currents, golden raisins, sultana raisins, dried cranberries, dried apricots, prunes, and candied ginger for the fruit. I think that you can use whatever dried fruits you have available and the cake will be just as good.

As usual, I think this cake is better after several days. And it's good imbibed with a bit of liqueur. Here, I've served it with a dollop of sweetened cream. Yum!

A wet Christmas

It should be a quiet day around the neighborhood. The tradition in France is for families to get together on Christmas Eve for a big meal and the Christmas celebration, called le réveillon, including (for some) midnight mass. I noticed that the lights were on very late (at 3:00 this morning) in one neighbor's house.

A felt nutcracker ornament, made by my mom many years ago.

Consequently, people tend to sleep in on Christmas morning. Ken and I did our traditional cheese fondue yesterday (and neither of us took a single picture of it) and went to bed at the normal time. So we're up at the normal time. And it's raining outside.

While many French families eat leftovers today, we will prepare our Christmas dinner (for lunch) around the special local chicken that the butcher delivered yesterday. We're making a chestnut stuffing and will bake a squash from the garden and serve some green beans that we grew last summer. Maybe we'll remember to take some pictures this time.