“A chaque âge ses plaisirs! »
The first rose of spring opens against the Farmhouse wall.
| Saturday, April 17th, 2020
Dear Friend,
“A chaque âge ses plaisirs! » remarked Madame Francine, approvingly, looking out of her kitchen window as she watered her small forest of African violets. “Every age has its pleasures!”
Henry’s face was ruddy with spring winds and the sun. A month’s confinement in the country was beginning to brighten his complexion and lighten his heart.
He and Richard, who helps with heavy work on the grounds of the Chateau, were loading logs into a splitter while Francine’s husband, our guardian Monsieur Xavier, supervised. The three of them were cheerily engaged in a spirited commentary on machinery and firewood. The impressive pile of logs dwindled slowly away.
The weather, as Madame Francine added, also with approval, is “impeccable,” sunny and fresh, “ni trop chaud, ni trop froid.” It lifts everyone’s spirits. The orchard is in bloom. The first rose of the year has opened deep pink petals against the sun-warmed wall of the Farmhouse.
For the last few days, the men have been clearing the pastures of broken branches and uprooted trees left by winter tempests. A mature tree had fallen across the back pasture fence. Its uprooted base threatened to divert the little stream we call the “Surgoutte,” the “over flow.” An unfortunate neighbor lives on a little plot of land on the other bank of the Surgoutte, and his ground floor has been known to flood. We’ll need to bring in a front-end loader to get it out, says Monsieur Xavier, with satisfaction. He likes to supervise heavy equipment. I wonder if we can’t pull it out with a chain and our own big tractor, but I’ll bide my time before making that suggestion. “A chaque âge ses plaisirs!”
Split logs from our woods are stocked in a grange of the basse-cour, or farmyard, ample provision for spring evenings.
Monsieur Xavier was full of admiration for the circumference of the tree: “plus que centennaire!” The other stricken trees were spindly, shallow-rooted specimens, but this one – perhaps indeed 100 years old -- would provide quantities of wood for next winter. And for fires on a nippy spring evening.
We’re clearing the pastures now because Jean-Yves will be bringing the cattle outside soon to feed on spring grass. We can’t risk little calves wandering through a broken fence or a foolish cow tumbling down the bank and possibly getting stuck in the stream. And since we’ll need to mow the pastures during the year to keep down the weeds, better to remove broken limbs and fallen trunks before tall grass hides them -- and the tractor driver makes a disagreeable discovery.
Madame Francine doesn’t just think the spring air and sunshine is good for men of all ages; it’s nice for little children, too. She delved into her stock of toys, and pulled out trottinettes, or scooters, for the little girls.
Henry showed Clo how to ride one, before the evening light began to wane and it was time to go in for supper.
“A chaque âge ses plaisirs ! »
Warm wishes from Chateau de Courtomer, `
as we look forward to “les jours meilleurs,”
Clo dances along while Henry shows her how to ride a trotinnette.