If I didn’t have emerging fruit on first year apple trees, a row of heavily laden pear trees, and roses in bloom all over the back garden, I would have simply stayed in bed all week with the covers pulled over my head.
Our former web host (Bluehost) had become more expensive (again) with less service or reliability. So, after well over a decade with them, I’ve switched to Hostinger. The migration that was meant to go oh-so-smoothly did not. And in the process of moving from one place to another, two of our four sites were hacked by some scoundrels.
Here on this site, they changed my WordPress log-in name and password — and thank heavens I noticed, took screenshots of the name they tried to log in with (unsuccessfully, thank heavens), and I’ve thoroughly cleaned this site and installed new anti-malware, anti-tampering, and so forth via plug-ins.
On Mark’s site, which is used as an online portfolio, they tried to snag our images of his successfully completed projects — probably to use for someone else’s site. On both sites, there were hundreds, seriously hundreds of comments in Russian redirecting people to other online sites.
Regaining control of our sites has put off our announcement of our new project, so it might be mid-September before you read about that.
Ah well — my trust in human nature has been tested and then some.
There has been a very intentional pause in posting since the end of 2019. For all of us around the world, life became ultra-stressful during the pandemic of the last two years, and it didn’t seem like a wise idea to share anxiety with an already anguished world.
We left Sweden at the end of 2019 and raced back to France. After a lifetime of depending on intuitive input, I had a rather familiar feeling — a large hand was firmly planted in the middle of my back, propelling me forward, telling me not to relax until we were safely back there.
Over the week of Christmas, we wrote a contract to purchase a derelict house in a small village in Brittany, and we had the keys in our hands six weeks later on Valentine’s Day of 2020. The house, one of the old village shops with living quarters above, had been built in stages from the late 1600s or early 1700s, then the early 1800s, and then we had what I laughingly referred to as ‘the concrete bunker’ — a 1960s add-on. It was certainly not in any condition to be occupied.
Again, listening to a building sensation that something dreadful was coming down the road, we filled the house with as many building supplies as we could purchase. The following week, the pandemic was declared and France went into lockdown.
We were not allowed to leave the cold and damp rental house we occupied unless we were picking up groceries, filling a vehicle with fuel, or going to the doctor. And when we did go past our front door, we were required to have a separate written statement each time including our name, address, and time of day we had left the house. France was quite strict about their lockdown!
We were originally denied the right to travel between villages to do renovation work, but I was persistent — and it paid off. I continued to do writing and editing while reloading the fire repeatedly each day to try and stay warm. And after a flurry of letters to government offices, I finally obtained permission from the regional police for Mark to go straight from the rental house to our future home each day. Never stopping or talking to anyone, he spent almost every day for the next 6-plus months gutting and rebuilding that mucky house.
Most of the walls were covered with mud plaster atop ancient lathe.The side walls were stone covered with lime plaster.
Feeling purposeful during that time really helped us, and we didn’t slide into the same depths of depression that some people we knew were going through. We just kept on going, knowing that our ‘project’ would pay off. And it has.
For the first time in ever so long, we are happy where we live. We’ve been in for 17 months now and the house is still in various stages of ongoing renovations, but it was a big project since it’s a 3 level house with a long and narrow partly walled, partly fenced garden out back.
Gargoyles gushing water from the upper wall of the medieval church in the heart of the village.
Our village is small, lovely. and quite old. We have a medieval church (complete with gargoyles overhead gushing water) down the block that was established in Gallo-Roman times.
The people are friendly, and we are fortunate to have a charming bar and restaurant a few hundred metres from our front door. The pharmacy is a short walk around the corner, and we have an excellent boulangerie (bakery) and small grocery on the other side of the town square.
Historic image of the village.
It’s interesting to feel contentment after moving so often over the last two-plus decades. As we re-emerge into some semblance of life, still wearing masks in crowds or when we go shopping, you’ll soon see more new pictures and some flashback pics from our life in France.
At some point, I’ll give you a chance to gasp a bit at our before and after pictures from the renovation. The teaser shots above should give you a clue of the obstacles Mark faced on the ground floor and first floor above. He’s only just begun to renovate the top floor, so there will be more stages of transformation.
In the meantime, it’s good to go back to basics and remember that life is good, and we are blessed.
It has been a year since we visited Paris, and quite a lot has unfolded in our lives. Yes, we are still in Brittany, France — for now.
We spent two months in Tuscany at the end of 2018 with Mark doing renovation work on a historic villa and me doing photography for the villa’s website and social media accounts. It is a massive and ongoing project and I’ll place links to the site in the next update — a photo essay of the Villa Francini Del Prete.
Reading a book on the elevated terrace of Villa Francini Del Prete in Fazzano, Tuscany.
The front entry door into Villa Francini Del Prete from the left side of the courtyard. Fazzano, Lunigiana, Tuscany, Italy.
Arriving back in France in late November, a stressful period of rioting, blockades, and demonstrations began. This situation continued for many months afterward as the Gilets Jaunes movement caused chaos in cities large and small, highways, and even rural roads. Yes, I understand that French citizens have the right to protest what they see as economic inequity. No, they do not have the right (in my personal opinion) to cause businesses to fail, to smash in the huge glass windows of shopfronts and restaurants, and to set fire to barricades and vehicles.
The road blockages also made it difficult to get to work, go to doctor or dentist appointments, do the weekly shopping, and even attend scheduled appointments at government offices. This has not been a happy experience, and it would seem that we are soon to be dealing with rail strikes and rolling airline and airport strikes in the months ahead. We don’t find any of this social upheaval appealing or thrilling.
Mark has had the additional stress of losing both parents within 10 weeks of each other, on opposite sides of the world. He was especially close to his father and was startled when he received a cancer diagnosis out of thin air. We spent most of February in England, and Mark drove his father back and forth to radiotherapy. The treatment was ineffective and the doctor was incredibly inaccurate when he told us we had quite a lot longer with Brian, Mark’s father. No — we didn’t. He died the week after we returned to France.
Right now we’re in planning mode. We have some adventures in mind, and I’ll share those with you at another time. For now, this was just a quick check in to say that yes, we are still ticking along. And no matter what, we always find things to be grateful for — each and every week.
***NOTE***
After dealing with severe amounts of spam and highjacking attempts, I have turned off all comments on my posts.
Over the years, my readers have seen my photojournalistic style photography. I do take close details, humourous or interesting juxtapositions, or landscapes — but mostly I take human interest, documentary, or art and architectural studies. Sometimes colour, sometimes black and white, my style is similar to other journalists or art photographers of my era — yet uniquely my own.
My husband Mark began to take a more serious interest in photography after we met almost 25 years ago. And over the years, his style has evolved in a wonderful way. He has an artist’s eye for composition and I love the fact that he sees things differently, that he notices details that I might not have ever seen. Our interests are similar, but not identical.
Today’s post is a photo essay — and every photo was taken by Mark Harmes.
Enjoy!
Child’s gravestone memorial statue in Paris.
Museum courtyard in Paris.
Man in shadow sits beside fountain of stacked concrete scoops in Paris.
Vertical elements in art and architecture in Paris.
Zig-Zag stairs behind a wall of green glass in Paris.
Generali Balloon ride in a park in Paris.
Walking in the shade of an overhead rail bridge on a hot day in Paris.
Glass angles and reflections in Paris.
Architectural details on an Art Nouveau building in Paris.
Mark’s reflection in the door glass of an Art Nouveau building in Paris.
The latest post is a sprinkling of images from our last days in Paris. It was a very compressed 5-day visit during an intense heatwave.
View of the Eiffel Tower from the Avenue de La Bourdonnaise in Paris.
Resting in the shade by a cooling water garden in back of the Musee Quai Branly in Paris. The Rue de L’Universite.
This isn’t chalk — these are painted designs on the bicycle and scooter lane alongside the Quai D’Orsay in Paris. Can’t find any information about what the marks mean!
Dinner at the Brasserie Terminus Balard in Paris.
Next up — a post full of images taken by Mark Harmes in Paris!
One of the most delightful aspects of visiting a cultural hub like Paris is the availability of things to do each day! This large and fascinating museum — Musee Quai Branly — was completely new to me.
After I finished taking photos on the Pont de L’Alma bridge overlooking the Quai D’Orsay and the Seine, we turned around and hugged the shady side of the pavement on Quai Branly. The sun was eye-wateringly bright and the temperatures were over 30 degrees celsius in the shade. The architectural style of the museum was a wonderful surprise. Both the colours and the exterior layers of planting and building placement were quite enjoyable to stroll through.
Mayan statue in one of the collections of the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
Musee Quai Branly restaurant set in the gardens of this extensive Seine-side museum in Paris.
Exterior ticket office within the cluster of contemporary buildings at the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
Massive carved sandstone head from Oceania in the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
Quite funny to watch all of these adults scampering from area to area whilst participating in some sort of corporate team-building scavenger hunt. This was going on all over the various levels of the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
One of a collection of masks from the Pacific Northwest of North America at the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
One of a collection of masks from the Pacific Northwest of North America at the Musee Quai Branly in Paris.
While doing the planning for this trip, I decided that I had seen the Louvre and the Musee D’Orsay several times along with the Pompidou Center and several smaller museums — so it would be good to visit new places instead. We were staying in a wonderful neighbourhood in the 15h Arrondissement, so we had excellent transport links that started right outside the front door of the hotel.
It’s time to share something that I have been reluctant to ever discuss online. As mentioned in Part One when I was dismayed about the hotel ignoring my request to NOT place us in a room that would require climbing a lot of stairs, I’ve begun to have some issues with mobility and pain. None of it is overly-dramatic, but it is inconvenient. So I have to listen to what my body tells me it can and cannot manage each day — and it’s all quite unpredictable.
On our 3rd day in Paris, it was clear that I was going to need to stay quiet and just rest for a full day. I knew that I’d lost any sightseeing I might have planned, but the heat bouncing off the concrete walkways the previous day had left me feeling quite drained and ill by that evening. I sent Mark off with my blessings every morning because he likes to get out early for a walk and for that particular Wednesday, he also went to a museum I had wanted to see, but knew I could not. I’ll post his pictures separately in another post dedicated to his images from Paris — not mine.
Thursday started off quite nicely with an excellent lunch at the brasserie right across the street from our small hotel. The food and wine were excellent and the decor was delightfully quirky — full of advertising art or miniatures relating to Citroen automobiles.
Next we headed to the Pont de L’Alma and I stopped on the bridge to take pictures of my surroundings and the River Seine below. Then we turned around and proceeded to the museum (in the next post) and had some time amongst the paintings, sculpture, and objects on display.
Make sure to come back for the next segment — and enjoy these views of Paris!
Exterior of the Bistro D’Andre in the 15th Arrondissement of Paris, France.
Interior of the Bistro D’Andre in the 15th Arrondissement of Paris, France. The lunch rush had just ended when I took this shot because a mere half-hour earlier, these tables had all been packed with happy diners.
Specials Of The Day board at the Bistro D’Andre in Paris, France.
Honey glazed chicken skewers at the Bistro D’Andre in the 15th Arrondissement in Paris, France.
Panne Cotta with red fig coulis — still lingering in my mind!
Citroen artwork on the bistro walls in Paris.
Citroen advertising art on the bistro walls in Paris.
Bateau mouches, lined up and waiting to take tourists for a cruise on the Seine in Paris.
The Quai D’Orsay alongside the Seine.
Both the Eiffel Tower and the domes of the new Russian Orthodox Holy Trinity Cathedral are now landmarks that can be seen from the Seine in Paris, France.
Opened in 2016, the glistening domes of the massive Russian Orthodox Holy Trinity Cathedral face the Seine on the left bank.
