I blushed. For within minutes of having met lovely Jennifer in person, she had tossed out, “You know what I love in your blog? That you and Remi are always pining after some house or another, imagining what it would be like to move to some place new.” Ooh, busted. She nailed it! The heat rose to my cheeks. We can’t help it. Remi and I are both nomads for different reasons–me from having moved around so much during my childhood, he for having travelled the world for most of his career. We are always open to the next possibility. Or at least willing to entertain it with a daydream or two.
When we explore, we wander, often aimlessly travelling down this road or that, happy to be in each other’s company with our Golden, Ben, looking out the back window. Many a time have we come screeching to a halt to better take in a happy surprise. So it was with the house for sale roadside on the outskirts of Banon.
Remi saw his plan immediately. “The garage could be transformed into a gallery with an atelier above and the rest of the house looks big enough that it could be…” “A B&B?” I interrupted (as I am too often to do). “Exactly.”
We were immediately taken by the traditional layout of the house, with its rooms sprouting off from a central stairway, as well as the deep porch off the side. Can’t you just see how lovely it could be? Oh, I would gleefully tear down those yellow plastic panels and build a tonnelle to be draped in wisteria and roses. Up would come the cement and down would be laid age-worn dalles de pierres in its stead. I would keep the lovely screen door, imagining its satisfying bang each time someone would head back into the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine.
The view of the surrounding mountains opens out with welcome arms and an absolutely massive garden slopes down in descending terraces from the porch. My heart goes out to that forgotten land, dotted with a few scraggly accidental trees and waist high weeds. What could it be? What must it have been?
We decided that we needed a closer look and poked around until we found a dirt path that stopped just below the property’s baseline. Apparently our zooming back and forth was worrisome to one of les voisines, whom Remi noticed peaking at us from behind a partially drawn curtain. Didn’t she know we were on a dream hunt? We were well-rewarded with our new perspective as the ruin of an ancient tower or pigeonnier took shape. What could we make of that? A nap house? With a star-gazing platform? And just look how close the house is to the village. We could have unlimited access to gooey goat cheese and spiky saucisson!
From down below, we could also appreciate fully how much larger the house was than what we initially thought, including two entire floors that hadn’t been visible from the road. Definitely enough room for a B&B. I also took a long gander at the filled in arch on the lower left hand corner of the facade. Open that puppy up, put in a pool that runs half-inside the structure, half out with an infinity drop–et voila, B&B de luxe! In winter, the towering pine would whistle woefully while the chimneys billowed fragrant smoke…Maybe there is space enough for a yoga studio?
Yes, we spent a good thirty minutes, at least, entertaining this little fantasy. Not long enough for us to even call the number posted on the door but certainly plenty to restock the wishing well. Sometimes just the wondering is enough.
Sincerely hoping that you all have a wonderful weekend ahead, a calm one with plenty of time to let your imagination go…
…and to get you started hop on board, A “Train of Thought” by Chilly Gonzalez.
And I nearly forgot! What kind of aspiring Frenchy would I be if I didn’t mention that this is the weekend when le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé! Ah ha! Not being particularly attached to the stuff (nor the headaches it has inspired in the past), I politely declined when my caviste offered a tasting of this year’s batch. Without missing a beat, he instead poured a Côte du Rhone Primeur, which is the same concept but made with the more full-bodied varietals that we have in our neck of the woods. It turns out that it has not been a great year for the Beaujolais as many of the vignobles were damaged during heavy hail storms. One winery lost 80% of its production. Happily, there is the rather tasty Primeur as well, which just might leave you dancing like the lovely apsaras…
Not entirely by the way, Heather?……Frances and Ed (who've just returned from their national book tour for their own new & deservedly popular "Tuscan Sun cookbook" are bringing their friend, Susan Wyler….the former editor of "Food & Wine" magazine.
all of my friends have responded to the news with "How TERRIBLE! What are you going to try to make?"….
….and all I have to say is that they're all-three very pleasant and nice folks, and I'll make what I would make if my own parents (whom I happen to like a great deal) were visiting from Tennessee.
THAT, as far as I'm concerned, is the whole point of having folks into your house for dinner.
As I wrote on Facebook….."I might as well, at 5'6", spend time worrying about whether I'll look short if I invite the entire New York Knicks Basketball team over for a barbecue."
—-david
Heather that is definitely my kind of dream home!(The way you picture it!) It must be so wonderful to be exploring with Remi and Ben! I would be thrilled!
xoxo
Karena
Special Giveaway from Scalamandre!
Oh David, I haven't listened to the song just yet (jazz blaring in the living room and will have to get out my headphones) but I LOVE THOSE LYRICS. Now, see? You are making me type in all caps! But I do. Am crazy about them. And am crazy about Ben. Like you, I feel that the better moments of my days are often in hanging out with him. Although I bet he would look to me to give him permission to howl. He is too good of a dog for his own good. Remi has no idea that this isn't how dogs usually are!
Anyway, back to the song. I love it already and thank you for sending along the lyrics to help decipher the recording. Looking forward to it.
Happy cooking!
H
Oooh, what happened to your studio Suze?! Gotta keep at the yoga to keep everything flowing smoothly. Did you see that suggestion about My Yoga Online that I mentioned a while back? It is only ten bucks a month and there are hundreds of classes with all different styles and class lengths. It might be worth a look see…But yes, practicing outdoors in Provence is pretty special. I don't get to do it as often as I like these days but it is great. And that reminds me–do you know what my very favorite yoga video of all time is? Ali McGraw's and it is filmed in…White Sands National Park!!!
Bisous!
Thank you so much for visiting my blog and leaving a comment. I figured I'd return the favor, and boy, am I ever glad I did! After looking through some of your earlier posts, and admiring your photographs, I almost feel as though I've just enjoyed a brief, but delightful, visit to France. Your pics and words do such a good job of capturing the essence of your surroundings, and instill a certain romance. (sigh) Yeah, I studied French for five years, and once had dreams of visiting the country in person. Not likely that's ever gonna happen at this late stage, but thanks to your blog, I've found the next best thing. Merci beaucoup. Count me in as your newest follower.
B&B?! My ears just perked up. May I add my dream to your fantasy? How about a room set aside for writers and artists on retreat? Maybe they could pay their way helping run the place from time to time?
But I also love your fantasy just as it is, no embellishment required. Safe, safe travels next week, my friend!
Dear Heather (and at the obvious risk of hijacking your wonderful blog….but I think you and all fans-of-Ben will love this song?)….
Well…any discussion I would ever have about longings and ambitions (including those involving houses, where and how to live, etcetera) would proably conclude with my playing this song. It's by Cheryl Wheeler, one of the perhaps-3 very finest and most incisive singer-songwriters I know of.
go to:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSOXE33EpTk
do bear in mind that this is a live, VERY-low-tech (to say the least) recording…..the song is on her CD "Mrs. Pinocci's guitar".
that said?….here's a gift for you and mister ben. and here are the lyrics:
Howl At The Moon
Words And Music By:
Cheryl Wheeler
If I were maybe a wolf or a dog
I wouldn't have to speak
Wouldn't have to talk
Just eat my dinner and go for a walk
And howl at the moon
And if I were laying there just like you
All curled up the way dogs do
I'd dream that dream that you're dreamin' too
And howl at the moon
Howl at the moon
Howl at the moon
And if I could carry your black and white
Sleep so sound & wake so nice
I'd keep real close to my own advice
And howl at the moon
Oh, you know something I don't know
You go places I can't go
You lift your head when the breezes blow
To voices older than time
I'll keep you close
Oh, I like you near
I'll touch your head and pull your ear
And watch you resting while I sit here
And howl at the moon
Howl at the moon
Howl at the moon
Howl at the moon
I'll watch you resting while I sit here
And howl at the moon
—-david terry (who, as you know, loves his dogs….I spend half of days just watching them and trying to learn something that I obviously can't teach myself)
http://www.davidterryart.com
'I would keep the lovely screen door, imagining its satisfying bang each time someone would head back into the kitchen to fetch another bottle of wine.'
Heather, I heard that! All it took was that immaculate detail to have me fully-immersed in this daydream with you! And, can I just say, that I am yoga-studioless at the moment and can just imagine how wonderful it would be to practice there.
Dear David,
Your tale was far more evocative than my post! But yes, we all have "the ones that got away"–however, I do believe that log cabin would have got the best of you both. Your papa was right. It does sound terribly romantic though. Especially as it was a fort, per se.
I know at various times when we have been looking for a house to either rent or buy, over and over I would be told "Well, that just wasn't meant to be," when things didn't work out in our favour or "It will be worth waiting for when you find the right one." Now, I haven't yet had the privilege to visit yours and Hervé's "forever home" but it certainly does seem to me to be the finest example of the latter phrase that I know of.
Hoping that you have a lovely dinner tonight. I imagine you are cooking up something tasty? A sort of pre-Thanksgiving warmup?
With all of my Best from a rainy Arles,
H.
….In case you wonder? We did, a month later, finally find the house again, by dint of sending up an agent from my parents' town….and it WAS, after all, a genuine 18th century, 2-story, log fort….built when the Indian wars were still merrily going on. We visited three times (once with my parents), negotiated with the owners (an elderly Yankee couple who'd bought and restored the remote place in the early 70's, and who now wanted to go to Florida). We fell increasingly in love with the place, and knew full well what we'd have to spend to "fix" various aspects of the property…..but the deal fell through on the last visit, when we discovered that the only thing we WOULDN'T own would be the view. We would own everything BUT the one acre across the road and smack in front of the house. This is an area of the country where folks don't believe in zoning-laws, and I told Herve that, for all we knew, a trailor-park or county-dump would be built across the road someday…..and we'd get to look at THAT for the next thirty years.
to cap things off?….the wife was taking me and my father on a tour of the inside when I said something about the lighting, and she stopped on the stairway to extend her arms and (as though she were announcing some marvelous, bonus-treat!) exclaim "Oh….isn't it WONDERFUL! My husband installed ALL the electrical wiring himself!!!!".
Her husband was a retired history professor. The walls were all 2-feet thick. We began actually looking for the wiring, rather than admiring the floors. My father told her that was So Nice (!)….and then got me outside, where he told me that he didn't know what my ambitions were, but that he didn't spend twenty years raising a son just so that I could go and get myself burnt-up in some 18th century log-fort during some dark, winter-ice-storm night.
We didn't buy the place, much to the dismay/displeasure of the owners (yes, they tried to sue). that said?….my next two gallery shows were filled with the 15 or so paintings I did of the place. In the end, all I'd ever really wanted was the view, and I guess I got it.
As things stand (and at my age), I'm very happy to be in this old place….which was COMPLETELY restored in 2001 (it won the state's preservation award for that year).
Amusingly enough, Frances "Under the Tuscan Sun" Mayes and her jolly, poet husband Ed are coming here for dinner tonight…..their first visit to this house (they're neighbors….about two miles away). I expect we'll all agree that, at a certain age, the romance of restoring an old house on a large property just doesn't seem so…."romantic"?
Level Best as Ever….and thanks for the, as usual, evocative posting.
David Terry
http://www.davidterryart.com