A Special Treat for the Birthday Boy

What can you give a beagle that has everything?  Well apart from a lifetime pass to the nearest fridge the next best thing is a lovely woodland walk.  Last Sunday Oscar turned 8 - of all of our menagerie that's the only birthday we know for sure because our little pedigree chum has a birth certificate.  On this wonderful little document it states that he is from a line of French champions but sadly, in his case, unless this honour is directly related to eating, our little porky mutt will not be following in their footsteps.

Little Oskie came to us with problems to overcome.  From puppyhood he was a nervous little fellow and if caught off guard to this day an unexpected gas explosion emanating from his rear end is enough to make him jump.  It doesn't really take a genius to figure out that he wouldn't have lasted long if he had been purchased for his bred purpose of hunting.   With the addition of a heart murmur and an expensive operation to fix two slipped discs he was very lucky to have ended up with a soppy English couple!

Baby Oscar  when we first brought him home... ahhhh! 

In the window box of our old house - I'd like to see him try that now!

So last Sunday instead of setting up the market stall to sell my trucs or going on a buying expedition we took a weekend off from all of that in favour of the ultimate doggy treat. Finding some woods was our next challenge.  Being surrounded by Cognac vines is truly wonderful but there are very few trees around our home to challenge Oscar's highly tuned nose.  It was while pondering this problem that I remembered reading about an old hunting park that was used by King François 1st and situated in the heart of Cognac. This 500 hectare wooded parkland can be found just a short distance from town along the right bank of the River Charente.  

Having bundled the dogs into the car Oscar's highly strung younger brother Jake (pointer/Tigger mix) began making very annoying squeaky noises -  no doubt a direct result of his recent trip to the vets for his yearly vaccination. Luckily for the rest of us he gradually calmed down and eventually contented himself with sticking his head out of the window and letting his tongue wave luxuriously in the breeze.

On arrival the weather turned a bit drizzly but there was no going back as we were dragged off down one of the paths. It's a wonderful feeling to be strolling through some woods knowing that you are within easy walking distance of a town and having explored a labyrinth of pathways four half and hour or so we decided we'd had more than enough fresh air and exercise and it was time to go in search of a chocolat chaud!

Jake and Oscar in clover!

Me (cold and tired) with the boys (raring to go)

On the way into town we found a lovely little tree lined strip of land called the Promenade du Parc where Belle Epoque ladies with parasols would have paraded up and down the grassy central strip whilst carriages drove along the tree lined avenues on either side.  It was all the more charming for its faded elegance and led to a striking war memorial.  We took a slight detour and wandered up a couple of back streets to Cognac's formal park the Jardin Public which houses the elegant Hôtel de Ville.  

The Hôtel de Ville in the Jardin Public

The Place François 1er in the heart of Cognac

From there it was just a few minutes to Place François 1er where we sat outside a pavement café and enjoyed a warming hot chocolate complete with whipped cream on the top (well we'd earned it!)   When it was time to go home we reversed the remarkable walk through town, park and woodland and all bundled back into the car - tired, happy and dreaming of the big squidgy sofa waiting for us back home (bliss).

Dreams of walkies

A Visit to the Hennessey Factory in Cognac

Last weekend Spike had some family over for a visit so we decided it was high time that we booked a tour of the famous Cognac House of Hennessey.

We decided that we would go on the 'XO Symbole' tour which included at the end a tasting of their celebrated Extra Old Cognac accompanied by some chocolate (how could we resist?)  This tour cost 22€ per person and was double the price of their standard tour but we thought that being a rare family visit it would be worth going for the more expensive option.  

The Hennessey building from the warehouses across the River Charente

An example of the alambics used traditionally for distilling Cognac

The coopered barrels made by skilled artisans

The warehouses where the Cognac is made and stored is on the other side of the river Charente to the main Hennessey building so a charming little boat trip across the river was the first part of the experience. 

The Hennessey Warehouses

We were then expertly guided around the warehouses and all the processes behind the making of this wonderful drink were explained by our guide.  If I have any criticism at all it would only be that the tour felt a little corporate (especially when we were led into a screening room to watch a corporate style presentation complete with "aritistic" images outlining the various stages of making Cognac).  This particular kind of experience is not really my truc but apart from that the visit was very informative.        

All was going well until having crossed back over the river to the main Hennessey building we were led into the tasting room.  Before we had a chance to explain a group of other tourists who had only paid for the standard 11€ tour had swigged our very expensive XO Cognac.  Of course the staff were apologetic and rectified the problem by quickly pouring us some more accompanied by a lovely, if a little lonely, square of chocolate for each of us.

The tasting/buying area where the unfortunate faux pas took place!

Unfortunately by this time it would be fair to say we were a bit miffed, not only because the sole difference between the two tours was the tasting at the end but due to the tasting itself being so disorganised we had just paid double for the privilege of watching another group swig our exclusive drinks for half the price! Needless to say we decided not to buy especially having found it is cheaper in the local supermarkets.

So in short it was a good experience but we left with the feeling that the company had been pitched to us as if we were potential shareholders.  So unless you are a fan of Hennessey Cognac in particular and if you love history as I do I would personally recommend the Otard Cognac tour as my clear favourite not only because it explains just as well how the Cognac is made but you are also treated to the beautiful historic surroundings of the Chateau where King François 1st was born (the king who brought the Rennaissance to France).  

I felt that the Otard tour was an altogether more intimate experience and there is a little more interaction with the actual drink itself like smelling different glasses of Cognac to see if you can pick up on the different fragrances.

The ancient Chateau - Birthplace of King Francois 1st

The vaulted ceilings inside the Chateau of Baron Otard

I suppose what it comes down to is a matter of taste.  Being an Irish whiskey drinker myself I'm no expert but Spike, like Napoleon, prefers Courvoisier - a Cognac made in the neighbouring town of Jarnac - so that's definitely a tour to try in the future.    

Ring, Telephone Ring

Some things in life you do tend to take for granted.  Dogs go "woof-woof", cockerels go "cockadoodledoo" and telephones go "ring ring".  However, sometimes you are faced with a situation that makes you reassess everything you thought you knew.

Last Sunday at a brocante in a lovely little village called Celles sur Né, just south of Cognac, we found an old fashioned black desk telephone from the early 1960s.  I've been looking out for a vintage phone for ages but when I have come across these little gems in the past the dealers generally want about 50€ for them. This price is then, more often than not, followed by a nonchalant Gallic shrug when they are quizzed as to whether the phone is in fact working.

With this in mind you can only imagine my delight when I found a cute little black vintage phone with an asking price of only 2€.  I looked across at Spike to confirm that I had in fact heard correctly (I have been known to get into a bit of a muddle between my twos and twelves) and having been given the nod I happily proceeded to snap her arm off (metaphorically speaking of course).

Ahhh.... aint' it sweet!  The ideal telephone for silent films  

For the diminutive price of 2€ I naturally understood that it was highly unlikely that the telephone would be functional but thought that it would make a lovely decorative piece all the same and if, by some small miracle, it did work then that would be a bonus. What we discovered next, however, I hadn't predicted.

Having spent a good half an hour cleaning it up (it was what can only be described as très très ooky!) we plugged it into the phone socket and Spike announced triumphantly that he had a dialing tone.  With excitement building I phoned our new purchase from my mobile.... nothing.  Spike picked up the phone receiver anyway and joy of joy we had a very silly if a little muffled telephone conversation (not surprising considering we were sitting next to each other at the time).

'Property of the State'... foiled again by French bureaucracy!

The next obvious step was to dial out and...can you believe it...success! (followed by yet another incredibly silly and muffled conversation).  So it seemed it was just a case of opening it up and fixing the connection to the bell.   A few minutes later we could both be found staring at the inner workings of the phone with dumbstruck expressions as the realisation dawned on us that there was no bell to fix.

Having 'googled' various vintage phone related forums it became apparent that this situation is not as unusual as you might imagine as many office desk phones had an external ringer back then... well who'd have thought it?
  

So I have learned never to take anything for granted as apparently over here dogs go "ouah! ouah!", cockerels go "cocorico" and phones are sometimes known to be mute.

In short the situation at present is that we have a lovely vintage phone that works perfectly as long as you have the gift of telepathy or only need to dial out.  We are now on the lookout for an external bell and have earmarked a couple of examples online that might do the trick and then it's just the simple matter of figuring out how to connect it!

Wish us bonne chance with that one!

Buttons... Buttons... Who Will Buy My Lovely Buttons?

Calling all Pearly Kings and Queens.  I appear to have recently acquired at a local flea market an embarrassment of vintage buttons (I think that's what they're called en masse).  Not my usual kind of truc but they were a by-product of having purchased two very much needed table top vitrines.  So as quick as you can say Benjamin Bouton I was in the button business.

If you'd told me a year ago that I would spend a day and a half cleaning, sorting and researching hundreds of buttons I would have thought that you were crazy but last week there I was counting and bagging a collection that possibly took someone a lifetime to acquire.  Even more surprisingly I actually found them quite interesting!  

A veritable vintage button bonanza!

Some large decorative abalone shell buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

Some little abalone shell buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

A mixed lot of military and metals buttons - Link to Etsy Shop

One of the reasons for this odd buy was that a couple of months back I embarked on a modest project to make two cushion covers for the sofa in our kitchen.  Being something of a novice to this kind of home craft (I personally blame Kirstie Allsopp for my rather crumpled and dejected offerings) I was stunned at the price of the large wooden buttons I had set my heart on (a jaw dropping 3,50€ each!!!)

My cushions looking slightly apologetic at the ineptitude of their creator

With the price of those buttons burnt into my memory for the remainder of my days you can perhaps begin to understand why I jumped at the chance when I came across two table-top vitrines stuffed to the gunnels with the things.  

The much needed table-top vitrines designed to keep sticky fingers at bay

One selection I considered particularly stunning was a large batch of mother of pearl buttons. Their iridescence appealed to my magpie instincts and I found it fascinating how the backs had been left in their crude state.

It was whilst sorting through these buttons that an image of Pearly Kings and Queens in their wonderful costumes sprang to mind.  Admittedly there are not many cockneys roaming around rural south-west France but you never know who might find you with the wonders of the internet do you?  

Genuine mother of pearl buttons - See my Etsy Shop

It's funny in this business how life takes odd twists and turns but I never stop enjoying the fascinating journeys my trucs take me on and will never tire of learning about them.

My Rocking Chair

Sometimes things in your life just don't have a place anymore and it was with a heavy heart that last Sunday I sold my childhood rocking chair.  To many people this 1980's pine chair probably doesn't have much value but I did my best with a couple of coats of 'Pale Powder' Farrow and Ball paint to give it the face lift it deserved before sending it out into the world without me (sniff sniff).

Our slightly full car with my rocking chair strapped to the roof 

The brocante market was in our nearest town with commerce, Matha, and because we no longer have a van we decided to risk strapping the chair to the roof of the car (must buy a roof-rack) for the 3km journey.  Our old Volvo was so full by the time we had finished packing that Spike had to take his motorbike as there was no room for him on the passenger seat.

The market was set in and around the ancient feudal castle (or what's left of it) in Matha and being a local brocante it was pleasant catching up with lots of people we know.  

The ancient feudal château in Matha

Some of the stock we managed to squeeze into our poor old Volvo

As the morning passed it became clear that it wasn't going to be the most lucrative day we've ever had but when a lovely couple showed an interest in the rocking chair I was over there quick as a flash armed with my somewhat dodgy French sales patter "C'est confortable, n'est-ce pas?" or something along those lines. 

After the usual bartering we settled on a mutually agreeable price and the wife then turned to her husband and whispered to him confidentially in English "That's exactly what I wanted to pay".  

Having realised that we were all English we continued the conversation in our native tongue and I was thrilled to learn that they were going to put it in their young son's bedroom.  She absolutely loved the colour of the chair (recognising it as Farrow and Ball immediately - a woman after my own heart) and promised she would look after it.

My rocking chair... please don't look at the weedy gravel!

As I watched my chair disappearing into the crowd I did feel a bit sad but also incredibly relieved that I didn't have to drive home with it balancing precariously on the roof of the car!

Antique Hunting in Angoulême

There is a brocante coming up this weekend just 3 kilometers from our home so we have decided to reserve a pitch.  Having decided not to attend a brocante we had booked for a few weeks back this will be our first of the season so with this in mind last Sunday I went out on the hunt for a few more interesting trucs to add to my stock.  It was a bit of an overcast day but ideal for shopping as there is nothing worse than getting hot and bothered when your trying to sift through all the goodies on offer.  

Because my Mum and her husband were over from England for a visit we thought that the most picturesque and interesting brocante to visit would be one held in the supremely elegant Place New York in Angoulême. Luckily there was also a vide grenier which is a kind of car boot sale in a suburb of Angoulême called St. Cybard so I had hopes that one of the two markets would come good.

The Market at the Place New York, Angoulême

Even if your not into antiques the architecture is stunning

The amazing Hôtel de Ville (it's good to be Mayor!)

A view from the Hôtel de Ville to the covered market

The labyrinth of cobbled medieval streets

As it turned out the little flea market in St. Cybard was much more suited to my budget and I managed to buy some really interesting little trucs.  Unfortunately the wonderful and genuine antiques on offer at the Place New York market were well out of my league.  

In my innocence I picked up an elegant vintage car mascot and thought that aside from the obvious use it would make a super paperweight so with that in mind I casually asked the dealer the price.  I put it down pretty quickly when he said 400€.  It might well have been worth that and more but I must confess that mascots are not my area of expertise (unless they are of the doughnut variety -mmmmm..... mascotte aux pommes)

Anyway, it was well worth seeing a proper antique market in such a charming setting and admiring all their lovely wares.  You never know one day I may have the money to match my obviously exceptional taste but for the time being, sadly, I must cut my coat according to my cloth.   

Enfin le Printemps!

I'm so pleased to be able to say that spring appears to have arrived at last.  Our fruit trees are laden with blossoms, our honey bees (from Spike's two hives) are out and about again and there are daffodils, tulips and irises popping up everywhere.   

With all this wonderful activity in the garden and surrounding countryside I thought I would share with you one of my favourite songs - Enfin le Printemps by the little sparrow herself, Edith Piaf.

  

It's been a quiet week as far as being a brocanteuse is concerned so with little to report I hope you agree that this wonderful song is an appropriate and joyful way to welcome the arrival of le beau temps.