The old castle

That's what Châteauvieux means. That, as opposed to châteauneuf, which means "new castle" or Newcastle. That well-known wine appellation in southern France is called Châteauneuf-du-Pape (the pope's new castle), dating from the time when the popes had relocated to nearby Avignon.

The castle at Châteauvieux seen from the old cemetery across the street. April 2004.

Just a short post today. We're waiting for the phone guy to arrive to attach us to our neighborhood's newly strung fiber optic line. First, he (or she, but I'll bet it's a he) will run a line from the pole to the house, then he'll run the wire from there into the house and hook us up. He could be here anytime after 08h00. We moved a bunch of stuff around inside the house yesterday to prepare. I think we're ready.

Châteauvieux

The castle at Châteauvieux was transformed into a convalescent home in the 1920s. In 1998, the facility became une maison de retraite médicalisée, what I think we would call an assisted living facility or nursing home.

Detail on the château de Châteauvieux. April 2004.

The town of Châteauvieux is about six kilometers from Saint-Aignan; a short drive. Ken went to a winery over there a few weeks ago and brought back red, white, and rosé wines. They were young, 2022 vintage, and pretty good.

A glimpse of Valençay

The château at Valençay is close by, a little more than twenty kilometers as the corbeau flies. We visited many times in the early days, especially with friends from the US. Not so much now. And while it's a little off the big château circuit, the furnished interiors, the kitchen, and the grounds are worth taking some time to have a look.

One of several towers at the château in Valençay. October 2004.

Today we're having Second Thanksgiving. Ken found a pintade (guinea hen) on sale at the supermarket. We'll roast that and serve it along with a batch of stuffing leftover (and frozen) from Christmas and some sweet potatoes. There's even a little cranberry sauce left. Gobble, gobble!

Is this it?

This was the snow we got a couple of weeks ago. It's the only snow we've had this season, so far. And it didn't last long once the sun came up. February is just around the corner so there is still time for snow. I don't have the numbers, but I think I can say, anecdotally, that we get most of our snow in February. March snow is always a possibility, too. Last frost danger is in mid-May.

I'm not even sure this would qualify as "a dusting."

It's too early to start looking forward to spring. Still, I'm beginning to tire of the daily fire chores (cleaning, splitting, lugging, and building). It always happens at some point near mid-winter. I'll get through it. The fire is nice once I get it going. And it helps us to use less heating oil.

Funky feline fotos

Here's Bert lounging on the back of the sofa in the living room. You might think he's been enjoying the view, looking for movement out in the yard. But no. There's a radiator right behind the couch and he's soaking up heat.

Bert's got a lot more white hair than he used to. We're all getting older.

He also has a favorite radiator up in the loft. That one is flat on top so he just climbs right up and snoozes, bathed in warmth. The radiator up there is not turned up to full, so it's not too hot. Another of his favorite spots is inside the fireplace next to the wood stove. He climbs right in and curls up, although he doesn't stay all that long.

Outside

You can tell this is not a recent photo. The sky is clear and blue. It's not here. Not today. It's drizzling out there right now and the temperature is not much above zero. It's winter in the Touraine.

Le collégiale St.-Sylvain de Levroux. October 2004.

I was industrious yesterday getting a wheelbarrow-full of fallen sticks and branches picked up and stashed where it's dryer. I'm hopeful that by the time I need them they'll be dry enough to burn.

More glass

Here's another detail shot of one of the stained glass windows in the collégiale Saint-Sylvain at Levroux. The words mean "Hail, queen of heaven," and come from an old prayer, according to what I found in the internet.

Stained glass, St.-Sylvain de Levroux. October 2004.

Today is predicted to be the last dry day before the possibility of rain on Thursday. I plan to get outside and pick up a bunch of the little branches that were knocked out of our linden tree in the recent windy weather. I want to put them in a dry place and use them as kindling for the wood stove. In past years I also gathered twigs and branches dropped by our birches, but those trees are gone now.