Chinon

Part of Chinon fortress, appearing rather magical, overlooking the beautiful town and the river Vienne.

Jesse took a day off on Wednesday so we could enjoy a family day trip with his parents to the historic city of Chinon. Jim and Tillie had liked the look of it in a guidebook. They chose well! 

Chinon is a little under an hour from us. We arrived late morning and began with a short stroll through the oldest part of town, appreciating the mix of buildings that ranged from ancient/medieval to current/modern. We spent a few minutes in the Church of Saint Etienne (although William was feeling rather determined to hoot and run and make life a bit difficult). There was a beautiful sculpture of Joan of Arc inside.

Another sculpture of Joan of Arc was in one of the main squares, this one flamboyant and militaristic with her horse trampling the opposition. She's a heroine in French history for her role in turning the tide toward French victory during the Hundred Years' War. (She's also now a saint in the Roman Catholic church.) It was great to learn a bit more about her, seeing as Joan's rise to fame began in Chinon. It was here where she arrived in 1429—just a teenager, entirely uneducated, from a lowly background—to meet with the dauphin-would-be-French-king Charles VII. Devoutly religious, she had received multiple visions indicating that Charles VII would regain the crown from English rule. When several of her specific visions bore out, she was given a relatively large leadership role. Of course this was all before her horrific burning-at-the-stake end, which was met at the tender age of 19... 

After our walk around, we ducked into a boulangerie to buy some bread to accompany the picnic we had packed. While there, William used the 2 euro he was given by his grandparents on two little sacs of gummy bonbons.

In a very sweet gesture (both literal and figurative!), William asked each of us to choose two as our dessert for our picnic lunch. 

Here William is passing Mama Cas her choice.

After lunch, we spent a few hours at the historic Chinon fortress/castle. It's built high on the hill and has been around in various states for well over a millennium. In fact, portions of a Roman road have been excavated showing the hilltop's importance even in Roman/Gallic times. We stood on the very spot (now grassy since that part of the structure is long gone) where Joan met with Charles VII.

Jesse was a champ and went off with the boys to play several of the kids' games set up on the grounds while Jim, Tillie, and I took in a history lesson with an English-speaking guide. We were crossing a bridge over an old fortification ditch separating the outer area of the fortress from the inner when we looked down and saw them throwing conkers into flowerpots.  :)

The vast majority of the original buildings are long gone. When they weren't being used for a period of time (a few hundred years ago), the citizens of the town below used the structures as a quarry, destroying the buildings in order to use the stone for their homes. Practical at the time, but what a shame.

The setting is just beautiful and clearly was very strategic.

Do I make a convincing Knight Templar? The Knights Templar have a big history in Chinon too.

We went up to the very top of the bell tower, which meant we were at the highest point as far as the eye could see. So wonderful!

Jim and Tillie headed back down into town a little before the four of us. We found them looking rather comfortable in their newfound French environment!

Before leaving for the day, we stopped off at a chocolatier to sample our first macarons in France. Alas, they're always made with almond flour, and nothing else in the shop looked safe to my nut-allergic self, so just the boy-folk indulged. 

Here's the "biting into our macarons" shot...except William had already crammed his into his mouth so is showing his empty hands!

Underground...

When last I posted, we were eagerly awaiting Jesse's return after two weeks away. I'd fully intended to put up a joyous "0 days to go" post upon his and his parents' arrival in France, but as it turned out, enjoying their presence eclipsed all documentation. And the week flew by! 

Actually, the blog wasn't the only dark and quiet thing this week... 

On Tuesday we spent several hours being fascinated by the troglodyte (cave dwelling) history in the area. Even into the 1900s, a fair number of people in the region lived in homes and worked farms that were built down into the earth rather than up on top of it. It was so incredibly unusual. The particular site we visited was part of a community with not just individual cave dwellings for the people and animals, but also a large subterranean chapel and a community room. They would work the land (above ground) of course, and were in a village with normal shops and houses and such for making purchases and visiting friends. Not surprisingly, such homes historically have had their advantages during times of war (as recently as WWII). 

Bizarre to see furniture not unlike that in our own home but set in a cave.  

Tillie (aka Mama Cas) helped Josiah complete a quiz as we went around.

The little hollows were roosts for hens and pigeons.  

Perhaps just a little father-son resemblance, eh?

We had a picnic on the grounds before heading home. I sure do love these three people!

Unfortunately when I passed the camera across the table for a reciprocal shot, Jesse made it clear that what he really loves is ice cream.  A focusing error or a tell-tale sign? Hmmmmm...

1 day to go: gonna make it!

One more day!

This time tomorrow night you'll be back in France, Jesse. We can't wait.  :)

The day was a good one. Having the sun well and truly back out (hooray!) facilitated both work—lots and lots of laundry—and play—a trip to the park late afternoon. In prep for your parents' arrival, I also moved the boys and their gear back up to the attic room after their month-long post-flood installation in the guest room. I'm sure there will be lots of bedroom shuffling when repair work commences at some point, but we're good for now.

I could go one with random inconsequentials, but at this point I think anything else can wait to be shared in person! Safe travels.

Twirling the seeds off of a dandelion clock. 

This face says, "I dare you to tell me off for this mess." Am I right?

2 days to go: vacation time!

Life is rhythmic here in ways that are so unlike home. I could give lots of examples—say, about eating habits or about how days are structured—but the salient one in our house at the moment comes from the school calendar. Six or seven weeks of school, two weeks off. That's the pattern that repeats from the start of September until the start of July. Today at 4:00 I picked up two happy boys who were more than a little delighted to have completed their first term. Their backpacks were plump with paper evidence of work accomplished in the last nearly-seven weeks, all meticulously organized in tidy, French-style cahiers (notebooks) and chemises (folders). I'm so proud of how much they've learned, done, and changed in such a short time.

Two happy boys.

Two weeks of vacation.

Two days until Daddy's back.

(Not to mention two beloved grandparents arriving with Daddy!)

Yep, we've got a lot to be thankful for "two-day."  :)

Also: Jesse, because we know you've been missing William's thumbs-up dance, he offered to do one for you here after school, celebrating le début des vacances. Enjoy! You'll have to turn a forgiving eye to the brief bit of rudeness offered midway through.

Thumbs up dance from Krista Casler on Vimeo.

3 days to go: quotable

Another dark, wet day. It's rained all but 2 days since you left, Jesse, and I'm pretty much done with it. After school (drop-offs and pick-ups all in the rain) we went to the grocery store; the boys wanted to come along, which is why I didn't sensibly go earlier in the day. Naturally there wasn't a parking spot anywhere even vaguely close to the house when we returned so we ended up all the way at the bottom of the street by the chateau. Pouring rain + walking several hundred meters with heavy bags of groceries + William sobbing and screaming and stopping short by turns over the insult of being expected to carry one small bag ≠ my idea of fun.

 But...rather than dwell on that image, I'll give you two conversations that popped up over dinner:

William: Do you remember that baking show at Auntie Ann’s house? Next time we go there I want to see that again.
Krista, surprised that he remembered a random single TV episode from a few months ago, and one not particularly kid-targeted at that: Oh really?
William, with substantial enthusiasm: Yeah! ‘Cause you know what I dream about? I dream about eating trillions and trillions and trillions and trillions of sugar cakes! I want to be a judge and eat ALL THE CAKES!

A little later...

Josiah: Mom, what’s your favorite number?
Krista: Probably 3. Or maybe 5. I really like odd numbers.
Josiah, with an are-you-serious expression: You like odd numbers?? I like even numbers. Odd numbers are just (shoulder shrug)…ugly...
Krista: You know what? Auntie Kara likes even numbers too. But I think odd numbers are smooth and beautiful.
Josiah: No way. They’re ugly. They have, like, big sloppy parts and they aren't nice or anything.
William chimes in: Well I like all the numbers, because it feels like they’re all named William. Yeah. And I’m William, right? So I like all the numbers. Because they're all named William.

4 days to go: sharin' the love

From Peter Greer's Facebook: "One more piece of evidence proving
Jesse Casler is one of the kindest people on earth."

Dear Jesse,

Maybe it's because there are only four days to go...or maybe it's because one of your wonderful colleagues sent this photo and caption to me (thanks Rachel!)...but I thought now might be a good opportunity to say that at the end of the day, the boys and I really are okay with sharing you around when you travel for HOPE. We might fuss a little on the home front, and we definitely miss your goofiness
jokes  assistance with items on high shelves  loving presence when you're gone, but we're so proud of the work you do and thankful for who you are. And receiving occasional news that you've gotten absolutely, entirely drenched by the end of helping a little old lady you've never met? Be still my heart.  :)

Love,
Krista

5 days to go: let's count it

Five = the number of days until Daddy gets home.
Five = a number we can count on just one hand.
...and...
Five = the number of "people" the boys are pushing to have in our family.  (?!)

Um, we're in a danger zone, Jesse.

A small kitty that was wandering the street darted through the door into our courtyard today when we were returning from school. She's between a kitten and an adult (and I say "she" but have no idea whether it's a girl or a boy). The boys were beyond enchanted; they've lobbied hard for a cat for years. Fortunately she was pretty standoffish, though, and kept to the shrubbery. We stayed outdoors and watched her for a while, but I figured it wouldn't be too hard to shoo her out in an hour or two.

But...when we went indoors for our snack, this little face wouldn't stop peering in the windows at us.

We went back out and standoffishness became all cuddles and sweetness. Uh-oh. 

I sat down to take a couple of pictures of her with the boys, and next thing I knew she was purring like a champ on my own lap, cuddling in, and closing her eyes. Oh dear. After a few minutes I handed the camera to Josiah.

Five? Could be nice...

Post-script: Don't worry. After giving her some water and some more cuddles in the courtyard (no food), we're about to send her out into the evening. The heartfelt imploring on the part of the children is substantial though, from Josiah especially. I've softened enough to say that IF she reappears for another day or two, and IF we can't locate an owner, and IF the landlord is open to it, and IF you and I have a big big big BIG discussion, Jesse, then perhaps there's a ray of possibility. I fear he's interpreting it in the "so you're telling me there's a chance" style of Dumb and Dumber.

6 days to go: thankful

Jesse, it was so good to hear from you today after several days of next to no communications. We're thankful that you're safely in Lancaster, land of reliable internet.  :)   And we're maybe just a touch jealous that you're spending several (albeit busy) fall days back on home turf!

On the point of thankfulness, this post is directed beyond Jesse to the several family members who sent gifts or forwarded money along for William's birthday a week and a half ago. Josiah carefully penned thank you notes that we mailed to everyone after his birthday last month, but for William, we're going a slightly easier route. Suffice it to say he was pleased with everything that day. When I suggested that we take a thank you photo, he decided we ought to take several...all with his signature double thumbs up. So from William (and me): merci beaucoup!

7 days to go: foibles

Dear Jesse,

We've been truckin' along really well so far, but wow, I woke up this morning missing you! A week done but another yet to go. As with every trip, I harbor an irrational notion that you could walk in the door at any moment...that you've said two weeks but have planned a grand surprise of arriving home in half the time. I sheepishly admit this is in fact a fall-back irrational notion since I've already had to relinquish the original: Until the moment we parted ways at the train station last Monday I maintained a verrrry-back-of-my-mind hope—as I do before every trip, if we're being honest—that you were about to say, "Just kidding! I'm not going! It's all been a giant pretense, making you temporarily miserable as a foil for the joy you feel now!" (because you talk just like that. Ha.) Instead, I was left singing "Monday, Monday" by the Mamas and the Papas...sigh.

With trepidation, I'll make one more admission. I had been thinking to wait until you got back for this, but it's occurred to me that allowing you some preparation wouldn't be amiss. It's rained all week, you see. And the scissors were just sitting there. And my increasingly thinning, scalp-revealing, frizzy hair....well....

Let's just say there's less of it there to offend anymore.

Gulp!

Honestly, the tiny pile of meager curl ends was notably smaller than the amount of hair swept up when I trim a scant half inch from your hair or Josiah's. But the effect was a tad more substantial. At the rate I'm losing hair I'll be bald in under a decade (although thank goodness the curls largely mask the situation in the meantime). Anyway, I give you that lovely mental image as a foil of my own for the physical image I'll drop in here, taken moments ago by the handy webcam in my laptop:

Eek! I hope you don't mind! It's actually still plenty long enough to pull into a ponytail (not that it looks it given how the curls shrink to half length)...but it's shorter than I remember having it since elementary school. 

8 days to go: things to see

Phew, what a day it's been! It was a wonderful family day...but it certainly didn't feel right minus a member. Jesse, we missed you so much. We especially hope you eventually get enough internet bandwidth to see William's recitation video from yesterday. He's so excited for you to view it!

This morning we went back to Chapelle Jeanne-d'Arc. From what I've been able to make out, the neogothic chapel was constructed by/for a female religious order in the late 1800s as part of a school complex for impoverished girls. It was actively used as a place of worship and education for many years, but by the 1970s the religious order was gone, the school was closed, and the buildings were abandoned. The municipality bought the chapel, and in the late 1980s it was formally deconsecrated and given over to cultural uses, especially modern art expositions for the last decade or so. While the story is sad in some ways, it's wonderful that the building has been so beautifully maintained, and it seems clear that the solo exhibitions / installations (just two or three per year) are meant to make the most of the history, art, and location.

The current one—open since June and closing tomorrow—is beyond minimal yet super neat. It is simply entitled Les choses voient, i.e., Things to see.

The beautiful chapel holds a single, white, 3 meter cube. One enters it to see nothing but a tiny, 1 cm hole in the center top. It appears totally black inside initially, but after a few minutes of adjustment one begins to discern a bit of light on the walls. With a few more minutes, one recognizes that the beautiful stained glass windows are projected on the interior walls, upside down and backwards. Even the lamb of God imagery of the vaulted ceiling above the cube can eventually be made out, barely, projected on the ground. A camera obscura. Given that the chapel footprint is the traditional cross shaped floor plan, it feels almost like the chapel has been folded up, boxlike, and contained/replicated inside the cube. So cool. (Last Tuesday it was definitely interesting to be in there with a dozen munchkins!)

The rose window in the chapel is especially magnificent. Josiah's looking at it here through the miniature camera obscura I made on Tuesday. Fun!

We also went down to the catacombs beneath the chapel to see a slide show of photographs

taken around Thouars by the artist who did the upstairs installation.

Before leaving, I asked the boys for one more photo by the front door, because I can't get enough of the amazing sculptural relief above: Jesus blessing the little children. I'm in love with it. Also: You can see that Teddy made the rounds with us most of today. Maybe an added measure of comfort because you're gone? Josiah hasn't really brought Teddy out of his bedroom for a few years. Whatever the reason, I won't complain about our 8-year-old still being soft hearted enough to snuggle his ted!

Having had our fill of art in the morning, we enjoyed the pleasures of home for the afternoon. I made baked, glazed chocolate doughnuts that were a major hit with the boys. Although you totally missed out, you'll be relieved to know that I'm finally hitting my baking stride here. 

Oh hey! I got pansies, finally, to replace the geraniums destroyed in the hail. They brighten the place up considerably.

There also was soccer ball kicking this afternoon, we hid this scary dude (below) for one another to find outdoors, and we played a game of Settlers of Catan.



By 6 p.m. it seemed that the day was winding down nicely. But then, as I was beginning to cook dinner (curried chicken, yum!), our ears perked up. What was that? We heard and responded to the irresistible call of...accordion music! I turned off all of the burners and we scurried around the corner to find men playing music in full old-school Thouars costume, a clown dude on stilts making balloon animals, and games set up. How had we missed this?! It was clear that things were wrapping up by the time we arrived on the scene but we enjoyed for 30 minutes or so.

Upon returning home, I got dinner re-started and was elbow deep in deboning chicken thighs when what do you know? More music started up, brassy and trumpety this time. Off we went again! Unfortunately the brief fanfare was over by the time we got back around the corner. A Saturday evening mass was beginning at St. Medard, and it seems a contingent of horn players was part of it. They had played in the square first and were lined up to enter when we arrived. We watched them process inside before heading home. 

With trepidation I turned on the burners once more and this time was able to complete the job...although dinner was a whole lot later than I'd intended! But certainly no complaints.  :)  What a lot of "les choses voient" for one day!