Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty Friday, 14 July Here in France, it’s a weekend of grand départ. In fact, it’s grander than usual this mid-July because besides the normal flow of people leaving on their summer holiday, Bastille Day makes a three-day weekend. But having just returned from 10 days away in Ireland
Safe Haven II (Maybe) Friday, 30 June No sooner had my friend Trevor, who was staying chez nous in Paris last week with his husband Dana, said: “It’s not crowded,” than I was on my bike and pedalling across the Seine to the recently renovated Hôtel de la Marine on the place de
Why We're Here Friday, 16 June It’s been a while since David has said: “I know we bought this house for that damn dog.” He is of course talking about Deux Champs, the property we purchased four years ago in the Perche, and our rescue dog Tasha (aka la Princesse). I can
Food for Thought Friday, 26 May Let me ask you a question: is it odd that a blogger who lives in France never blogs about food? I think so, especially given how much the writer in question, me, loves food and all things culinary. Okay, there was once an entry about Indian cuisine,
Finishing Touches Friday, 12 May “Is it finished?” ask some (genuinely wondering). “It’s finished, right?” ask others (as in: after all this time, it’s gotta be…). “It’s finished,” state still others (no inflection, since there’s no way it couldn’t be done by now). My answers, depending on
Ode to April Friday, 21 April “April is the cruellest month.” What an overused way to start a piece of writing concerning the fourth month of the year. Worse, it is often misused, thus spoiling all the irony that TS Eliot infused into the first line of his 1922 poem The Waste Land.
The Demos and the Kratos Friday, 7 April “What is a simple definition of democracy? “The word democracy comes from the Greek words ‘demos’, meaning people, and ‘kratos’ meaning power; so democracy can be thought of as ‘power of the people’: a way of governing which depends on the will of the people.” Thus spoke
Of Puddles and Ponds Friday, 24 March My family often accuses me of being a glass half-empty kind of person. Someone who imagines the worst-case scenario at every turn. While I admit that my mind can tend to misadventure, I would argue that in many instances, I am just being a realist, particularly when
Guest Apparence Friday, 10 March Last week I dreamt I went to Berlin again... Actually, unlike the narrator of Rebecca who made a nocturnal visit to her former home Manderley, I did physically return to the city where I once lived. It just felt like a dream. For more recent readers, some
New Friends Friday, 24 February Here's a new word for (most of) you: dendrolatry, the worship of trees. My admiration may not quite attain the level of adoration, but this winter I've been counting my arboreal blessings. When you buy a property in the country, it's
Building Time Friday, 10 February Early on in my Paris years, I learned an expression that made me feel I really knew my way around town: les dix minutes parisiennes. It means that whether you are attending a meeting and certainly a dinner party in Paris, you are not only allowed to
Notice, and thanks Friday, 27 January In January, my Paris dog-walking friend Nathaële and I always remark how the days may be getting longer but to all appearances, not in the morning. Beyond the glare of the city lights on the terraces of the Tuileries Gardens, you can’t see a thing, including
Macro vs Micro Friday, 13 January Tell me if you’ve felt anything similar recently*: every time I give or receive a Happy New Year this January – with many of those received accompanied by a Thank God 2022 is over – I experience a small internal wince. The frisson occurs because it seems to
Things, Glorious Things Friday, 16 December I love things. Big things, little things, things that belong to me and things that do not. Sometimes I am uneasy about this proclivity. It can seem materialistic, trifling, overly personal, boringly bourgeois. But if the current exhibition scene in Paris is any indication, I’m right
With or Without Us Friday, 25 November If you’ve read this blog even spottily, you will know that since we bought our house in the Perche in 2019, we’ve altered just about everything, inside and out. Even our fields have changed both farmers and farming practices, as we shifted from 'conventional&
The Saga of a Swamp Friday, 4 November For a long time I've known that the section of the VII arrondissement of Paris where we live was originally a swamp. Yesterday I learned that it was also an area where wood that travelled down the Seine was stocked. Such a place is called
Safe Havens Friday, 14 October Every morning I do a stupid thing. After some work and before walking Tasha, I peek at the news in the The Guardian's newsletter that arrives in my email box. Yesterday the cover photo showed four soulful sea lion pups and the headline said: "
Team Claire Friday, 30 September “What about the garden?” my husband David began asking two years ago, not long after the renovation of the inside of our Perche house got underway. As regular readers know, it has been a refrain ever since. For more recent readers, and since I have trouble keeping
It's a Long Story Friday, 16 September Trick question: what is the oldest monument in Paris? People who don't know the city well might answer Notre Dame (1163-1345), but Our Lady isn't even the oldest church, with Saint-Germain-des-Près preceding it by a few hundred years (founded in 558 by Childebert
The Light in August Friday, 2 September Most years, I watch the light in August with a tinge of regret, a pinch of anticipated nostalgia. The days are getting noticeably shorter. Evenings, out come the candles by supper's end. Mornings, I wake, make my coffee and get down to work in the
Attempted Getaway, II Friday, 15 July To prevent my Paris-Perche Diary from becoming a cahier de doléances, the register of complaints presented by citizens to the king during national assemblies of the Ancien Régime, I did not write a blog last week as planned. The list of minor misfortunes I enumerated in Best
Best Laid Plans Friday, 24 June The past week has left my mind softened and scrambled, and whether or not it's up to telling you about it today, we’ll see. First, let's back up a bit. You may remember that in April I declared our house works in
Not My Kind of Music Friday, 10 June Right now, this early morning, all I can hear through the open window is a pair of cooing wood pigeons and the faint, intermittent din of traffic on the boulevard Saint Germain. But in the next hours, the noise will ratchet up, be close to unbearable by
Pluck the Moment Friday, 20 May Once on holiday, my friend Dana loaned me a book on Buddhism. I don’t remember the title or much about the finer points of the exposé, but as is often the case with me and books, I do remember one passage, read in a particular setting.
The Celtic Thread Friday, 6 May When I was about 12, I had to write a family history. Don't forget, the teacher stipulated, to explain how and why your families ended up in the United States. Of my four family prongs, three - the McKnight, Ellis and Hastings lines - could
