You say to-MAY-to

Well, so do I. On Thursday Ken picked what may very well be the last tomato harvest of the season. He got a bucket full of ripe and ripening fruit, along with this pile of smaller tomatoes. These are called "Juliet" and they're larger than cherry tomatoes, but smaller than Italian romas.

Juliet tomatoes in varying stages of ripeness. They should all ripen up in the kitchen in the next week.

Speaking of cherry tomatoes, our plants have outdone themselves and we have way more than we can deal with. There are still hundreds of red ones out there on the vines. One can only eat so many cherry tomatoes in salads. We've also been cooking with them and making sauce with them. We'll probably pick what we can and add them into the next batch of sauce for freezing.

Windows and doors, part five

Ok, I'll stop after this. These are the doors of the church in Montrésor. It's the Collégiale St. Jean Baptiste. Notice how the heads of the statues over the doors are missing.

Twin red doors in Montrésor.

These are the ceremonial front doors of the church. They were locked when we visited, but a side door was open for visitors. We were the only people inside that day.

Windows and doors, part four

Another one? Really? Well, I just couldn't resist this shuttered window. I like the iron brackets. I like the cut-out hearts. The whole building was like this.

You gotta have heart. Click to ventriculate.

The shutters on our house are brown. Because it's a relatively new house (built in the mid-1960s), and because the roof tiles are brown, another color on the shutters wouldn't look quite right. Unless it was white. Maybe.

But, all the original shutters had the same cut-out heart motif as those shown above. I think it's a pretty common thing here in our part of France. We only have one set of original shutters still hanging on the house: four panels that close over the large door between the living room and the deck, each panel with a cut-out heart shape. The rest have been systematically replaced with more modern metal or PVC shutters.

We found many of the original shutters stored in the garage and garden shed when we moved in, all with the cut-out heart shape. I lay them across saw horses and use them as makeshift work surfaces when the need arises.

Windows and doors, part three

Yet another building in Montrésor, this one is kitty-corner from the church at the top of town. I'm continually fascinated by the way a building's windows, doors, stairs, and stone elements seem to "interact" with each other coupled with the little dots of color from flowers and plants.

The cobblestone street in front of this house curves upward and back, leading to the château.

In France, most buildings are made from stone, terra cotta or concrete block, or more recently, concrete. Usually that building material is plastered over with a stucco layer to make it smooth and finished looking. The colors of the buildings are determined by their stone (if it's exposed) or by the color of the stucco layer and/or paint. Building colors are normally muted in shades of beige or gray.

Color is introduced by painting window mullions, doors, and shutters, and by adding flowers in window boxes and planters. This pattern is repeated all over France and varies by region, depending on the types of materials historically available in those regions.

Windows and doors, part two

Yet another facade, right next door to yesterday's, I believe. Again, note how nothing is really fancy or high-end. But it all still works. When I do find something that's fancy and high-end, even though it looks pretty, it feels unreal to me, like a Disney set.

This little house actually looks lived in. It could also just be a storage building or garden shed. Who knows?

I know it's just an illusion, old versus new and all that. There is so much that is old in France and not abandoned, still used, still lived-in. Your eyes get used to it. Even though my house is approaching fifty years old, it looks darned new compared to much of the building stock around us.

Windows and doors, part one

Montrésor is designated as un des plus beaux villages de France (one of the most beautiful villages of France) and, as such, has many picturesque buildings and views. Among them are many small houses on little streets. They're not all maintained to the highest level, but they have a certain quality that makes them pretty.

A boarded up door and a shuttered window with some overgrown plants. Nice!

This one is along the street that rises up from the river valley toward the castle and the church.

The castle

The château at Montrésor includes the ruins of a medieval fortress and a more "recent" renaissance wing, seen here. Construction began on this section in the late fifteenth century.

Getting our bearings before a walk through town.

That's Ken on the right with friends Chris (left) and Barbara (middle) as we begin our walk along the river below the château.