A sunny 15 January
Smack in the middle of January, gorgeous sunshine exploded on us and being here at Coin Perdu, in the barn, for the winter, it was a gift from heaven. We were outside all day whole day, even though the low temperatures of -3 degr. C( about 26.6 degr F).
By the afternoon, we were still out, and doing all the things (almost) we(and all our animals)would do on a normal summers day..
..wheeling around the bed..
…rolling in the fields…
…lighting a barbie fire at 16h30…
…while sipping a red wine and munching on a sauccisson…
…and the chickens were following the sun…
…a smoke trail is a good sign…
… silhouetted against a perfect day at 18h30…
Missing the country
With winter at its worst in January and February, I find myself thinking of and longing for Coin Perdu more often than is good for me. Winters in Touraine are very grey, dark and sombre. On the odd weekend, when taking the drive to Coin Perdu to check that everything is still in order, we arrive at Puy d’Arnac in bright sunlight. Cold, but bright. Misty in the early morning,turing brighter during the day. Maybe it won’t be too many years, or perhaps even months more before I can wake up on cold January mornings with sun streaking over my bedroom floor at Coin Perdu.
I love Montlouis and our house here by the Loire. I love our beautiful town of Tours, a mini Paris with it’s incredible architecture. I love the Loire with its wild unpredictability.
…la loire et ses oiseaux..
But the depth of my love lies at Coin Perdu, where the sunsets and clear stars keep me outdoors early until late… Where I love the roaming cattle with their undisturbed manner, the bells clinging even somewhere at night. Where I love the buses roaming the skies, where I love listening to the the complaints of the owls in the dark of night, crying their dissatisfaction with us taking their barn…I’ve said all these things before. I will say it many more times. They are important things in my life; the simplicity and honesty of the country side, where life isn’t always easy, but where the comfort lies in knowing and acknowledging it. There aren’t short cuts in honesty, no shifting of boundaries. There is no playing around with honesty. Taking on a day can’t be played around with…animals can’t wait for their food, hay will be wet tomorrow if not cut today, the birth of a new calf cares not for convenience, rain boots wait by the door for a good reason…nature dictates and man dances. It gives life its equilibrium. Keeps man humble, with his ear to the ground, his instinct awake. It keeps him alive. It gives him life.
So, while I am waiting for March and spring to break through so we can pack and take off to Coin Perdu for the spring and summer months to resume working and restoring our mountain home, I have last year’s photos and many memories to keep me going these next two months.
But still, I can’t wait to…
…start working…
…fiddle in our barn kitchen…
…delighting in simple, delicious food…
…go for long walks…
…revel in rediscovering nature and animal life…
…paint, paint and paint…
…enjoying evening barbeques…
…enjoying breath taking sunsets…
A home in the barn.
We’ve been staying in our barn for the past five months.
After starting out with the bare essentials and wearing thick skiwear at night to keep warm in front of the wood burning stove, drinking cups of steaming chocolat chaud and cosying up around campfires, we can now say…it is fun! We have a proper home now in our barn with everything we need, NO television, which we don’t miss. We have running water, warm showers, old ladders for our towels, a coffee corner, a fully equipped kitchen where we prepare fresh and simple meals, couches for lounging, lamps for ambiance, books for drowsing, comfy sleeping nooks, privacy by means of romantic linen drops tied with antique lace…hunted down at local brocantes. We need nothing more…except maybe exquisite sunsets.
…welcome in our barn…
When renovating, restoring a house, the concept of “home” changes, even whenstill staying in your home while it is being renovated. It becomes a construction site; the ladders and scaffoldings take the place of comfy couches. The dusty smells of sand and cement take the place of potpourri. The crunching of debris underneath boots make you long for the soft touch of carpet and barefoot. The days are long and hard, dinners become quick and simple, sleep welcome and deep, mornings early and refreshed…or is early and aching?
The upside of renovating is the anticipation. Much like waiting for that last schoolday before summer, last week before Christmas, the night before your birthday … The road to getting your home back is a daring crusade. It is the anticipation that keeps us going, working through the frustrations, stepping over the irritations, redoing the miscalculations, band-aiding the wounds, kneading the aching muscles. So we need that little corner to unwind at the end of the day. That little restplace where you put side the images of ladders and cement mixers and wallow in soft comfort. That place where you keep the anticipation alive with dreams in warm beds.
…a clear view through our barn…
…full of nothingness…
…a first bite and a first night in a barn home…
…always place for some romance…
When Hartman suggested living in the barn while working on the house, my apprehension knew no boundaries. At the time I was snuggly cuddled up in front of the fireplace in our comfortable and lovely home in Touraine, listening to music, sipping a glass of red wine, reading “Dark Star safari by Paul Theroux, while the rain and cold and wind were safely locked outside.
Hearing things like: ” cleaning out the all the hay and tools and owls from the barn…dusting… repairing floorboards… moving in some sort of bed… firing up the wooden stove for a hot meal, fixing the doors, find a solution for bathroom facilities…” well, it simply made my hair stand on end and I felt the cold of wind from outside creeping indoors. I took a big sip of red wine, nesteled my derriére deeper into the cushions and faked enthusiastic listening, all the while lifting my one eyebrow higher and higher.
But here I am. Here we are. The days are long and hard. We’re living in the barn. Cleaned out the hay, fired up the wooden stove. We shower in a tin tub found in the barn. I use the pedometer to measure the distance to the longdrop at the far end of the garden. We eat colourful and healthy dinners by candlelight, while sipping on full bodied red wines.
My husband knows me far too well…once I grab onto an idea, which may sometimes take some time…it’s sailing off into the sunset. I finally got carried away with our camping in the barn and it was like being a little girl again in my growing up years, building and constructing interesting tee pees and tree houses and tenthouses, furnishing them with what I could find around the neighbourhood, always filling up a flass with flowers for my “centre table”. Nothing had changed, except that myconstruction is now a barn and my glass is filled with flowers from our own land.
…something of everything…
…relax and offload…
…brushing teeth and then off to bed…
…old wine barrel rim, a tin tub, a new shower curtain, chains and bit of elbow grease and voilà…a perfect shower…
…kitchen corner…
…washing up, hanging tools on an old chicken coop door, and of course a coffee corner with it s cups and plates and nick-nacks…
…let’s see what’s in the pantry…
…le petit coin…
reworked, revamped, a new sanitary systems, modern comfort in an old setting…
…switch off the light and don’t forget to wash hands…
Brushes – Macromonday
I started cleaning our barn this morning and stopped with a brush in my hand, thinking it could make for quite a nice photo…the brush I mean, not me…
I use a lot of different brushes when cleaning and I love natural bristles. They don’t scratch and at the end of their days, they make me feel good – seeing how derelict they look in old age, I feel comforted that I at least still look a bit better and last a bit longer…after the same amount of work!
…young and healthy…
…ready and able…
…firm and willing…
…soft and gentle…
All photos with Nikon D70s camera and AF micro nikkor lens 60 mm
An entry for macromonday
Coin perdu, a mountain home 
