Letters from Elisabeth

❝ C’est la rentrée ! Autumn begins to slant the rays of morning sun, touching the stubble in the fields with gold, enriching the bright colors of garden flowers, and reddening the glossy coats of the cattle in the pastures. ❞

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❝ “Monsieur Xavier has been fighting me. I don’t understand why“ … ❞

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❝ It was so hot last week, there were pictures of the thermometer in the local newspaper. Rouen, the capital of Normandy, measured the hottest day on record – more than 100 degrees!… ❞

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❝ "Tout va bien au Chateau, Madame la Marquise!" was Madame Francine’s tart reply. « Everything’s fine at the Chateau, Madame the Marquise!”… ❞

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❝ When a provincial comes into Paris, no moment goes unmeasured and unspent. The tenderness of the morning’s light on the creamy buildings…the rosy fingers of dawn upon the grey rooftops…❞

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❝ “C’est les soldes!” There is a hairdresser in every woman’s life – and Cyril is mine. And like many a hairdresser, he has some of the answers to life’s questions… ❞

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❝ Lights move back and forth across the fields behind the Chateau until the wee hours of the morning, as huge machines cut and thresh golden sheaves of ripe wheat. They start again at daybreak… ❞

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❝ Pascal is an anesthesiologist. But Henry didn’t even ask him if he missed his old life in Paris. Pascal was too busy trying to keep a little calf away from its mother’s udder, as he squirted the last drop from her left rear teat into the shiny stainless-steel bucket. When Henry was little, we kept a small herd of Jersey milk cows… ❞

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❝ It’s the Fourth of July, and a lovely day for a pique-nique! And while we wonder where to have it, we think of those immortal words, “Lafayette, we are here!”.., ❞

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❝ “Impossible! One cannot talk about charcuterie without mentioning the Roman Empire,” began Monsieur Roblin, looking over his spectacles with a professorial air, his tone slightly severe as befits a subject as serious as food. But his eyes were smiling… ❞

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❝ Her legs were long, spindly and knobbly. And like any newborn horse, she was already on them. Within a few hours, she was cantering to catch up to her mother…❞

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❝ “That window is off center,” scolded Monsieur Xavier, testily. We were up on the roof of the Chateau, surveying the ongoing replacement… ❞

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❝ Standing on the steps of the Chateau, she struck me as surprisingly small, a diminutive figure in black against the golden stones of the façade. She wore a red beret, bright as a leaf in autumn… ❞

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❝ “A Hoopoe couple have been nesting in the Orangerie wall for several years now,” continued Heather, having dealt firmly with Madame Francine’s cat, who has been creeping along the grass, eyeing a little bird. We are sitting outside the Farmhouse, enjoying the warm air and gentle sun of the late May morning… ❞

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❝ The park and fields of Chateau de Courtomer, like the countryside all around, swell with bright blossoms, greenery, and birdsong… ❞

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❝Autumn turned to winter, progressed to spring and summer, and returned once more before Monsieur Xavier, our faithful guardian and handyman, reluctantly agreed to consider that the Farmhouse might be habitable again.❞

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❝ From the moment he accepted the challenge, our guardian and homme à tout faire (handyman) Monsieur Xavier was smitten. It was as if the restoration of the Farmhouse was the renovation of his own life. He was unabashed by the prospect of turning the moldering -- indeed perilous -- structure into a livable home... ❞

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❝Our challenge, as you may recall, was to preserve and enhance the authentic historic details of the Maison de la Ferme. But to make it comfortable and chic!❞

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It was an ambitious undertaking from the start, testing his ingenuity and building skills, his command of matériel and men. It involved big, load-bearing structural repairs. It drew upon the arts of masonry and plumbing, electricity and carpentry.

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