An Announcement

 

Dear readers,

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

 

Mickaël and I are slowly returning to reality after a magical weekend for which I am so very grateful. I will be back as soon as my feet touch the ground to share my joy with you.

In the meantime thank you so much for your warm birthday wishes and eager response to my little gift offer.  Mademoiselle Dotty Poppy (my latest customer order) has an announcement to make!

Who will win Eowyn Ivey's The Snow Child?

The answer (according to the Random Number Generator) is:

Melissa from Julia's Bookbag! 

Melissa, please send me your postal address so that you may enjoy this book during the sparkling days of Advent!  Let's share the excitement of reading it together.

 

I wish you all a very, very happy new week.

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

 



A Frosty Gift (To You)

Dear readers,

 

Generally speaking November does not get a good press.  I don't know about you but I would like to relinquish all notions of a four-quartered year.  The ragged interface, for example, between autumn and winter, which could be considered a short, hybrid season in itself, usually occurs in November, I think.  Rotting leaves turn into a fragrant mulch. Birds still berry in the woods.  The damp air is full of distinct noises; dripping branches and seedpods like tiny rattles on the trees.  The air here in France is cold without being chill.  We no longer fight the urge to close the shutters tight come early evening.  We become homebodies mostly.

 

And then the first, magical frost comes.

 

"There's nothing like a touch of frost to add glamour to the winter garden.  Like hard white icing on a dark fruit cake, it transforms the stuff of everyday life into something special - a birthday or a christening instead of the usual Saturday teatime in front of the telly."

 

Katherine Swift, The Morville Year (p. 244).

 

I love frost!  Don't you?  And I thank Katherine Swift for raising it the thrilling heights of birthday celebrations for I realise now that, undeniable aesthetic values aside, for decades I must have associated the first frosts with my November birthday.  Yes indeed I will be celebrating gaining another year this week.  On the day itself I will be eating out  with a precious friend at our favourite local haunt, La Part Belle and for the first time ever in our nine years of wedded bliss (hee, hee!) MIckaël is taking me away for the weekend to a surprise destination whilst his parents sweetly come and look after our children. I am as excited as can be!

Aside from making 'Eve's Pudding', using my favourite fragrant Blechard apples with a touch of lemon zest, or ''Chocolate Puddle Pudding' served when the children are home from school with a little cream or vanilla ice cream I had to channel my excitement into something more creative and less calorific! 

Here is Mademoiselle Ciel d'Hiver (Winter Sky), an enchanted hare, who represents the most magic of all natural beauty; the unique snowflake, the silvery and intricate calligraphy of Jack Frost (I loved him as a child), the glaze of ice on water, a deep winter sleep, and in particular the winter sky. When I first arrived in France fifteen years ago I settled down in a little fishing village on the Normandy coastline and would follow the country road to get to the nearest town, Bayeux. My first winter left me breathless with excitement. I would slow my car down and gasp at the mist swirling over the frosty pastures and the sky pink, grey, and mauve, with occasional flashes of orange as the sun lazily woke up. It was so beautiful.

Mademoiselle Ciel d'Hiver loves to gaze at the winter landscape suffused with pink light. She will clap her hands with pleasure when the first frost or snowfall occur. In the long evenings when the curtains are drawn she will be supremely content sitting in an armchair with the candles lit and reading a good book such as "The Secret Garden". She is very feminine and quietly spoken and very fond of white icing sugar and silver balls on cakes.

Ivory silk (from Angélique's christening gown) line her ears.  Silvery embroidered snowflakes cover her slender feet and long ears.  Translucent glass beads have been knitted into her little tunic which, to my mind, contains all the colours of the winter sky I first found in France by the sea all those years ago.  And, best of all,  a beautiful ivory lace, HANDMADE by a specialist lacemaker, trims the trousers. It's intricate, regular pattern reminds me of Jack Frost's delicate designs on icy windowpanes and the effect of frosty parterre designs in Baroque and Renaissance gardens. It's the same as the one I used for Mademoiselle Autumn Serenade (hi Claire!).  This little hare appeared in my Etsy shop yesterday and disappeared again, as if by magic, not once but twice (oops).

 In short I have made her, partly, to celebrate my fast approaching birthday, and my favourite books, which I always dip into with every first frost; Marina Warner's book "The Skating Party", and my favourite part of Virginia Woolf's "Orlando" which describes the Great Freeze in London in the sixteenth century.

Do you see the book on the right?  A few days ago Lori, in an inspiring post in which she reveals the most stunning reindeer shawl she knitted herself on her return from adventures in Alaska, eagerly shared her opinion of Eowyn Ivey's The Snow Child.  She wrote; 'the snow child is about homesteading in alaska in the 1920's. magical, delicate, poignant, a beautiful story. and the art work on the cover, LOVE that too'.  It did not take me long to order two copies of this book.  One of these I would like to gift to you.  My copy is patiently sitting on my (dusty) bedside table.  I longingly brush a finger over its beautiful cover every night when I creep into bed well past midnight.  I have many hares to stitch for Christmas, you see, and little time to read.  I love the idea, however, of sending this book out to someone special and reading it together; simultaneously.  Another small connection in this vast world we live in.

So, dear readers, this is my small birthday present to you.  If you are interested in reading The Snow Child simply leave me a comment.  I would be most grateful if you could become a follower too, although it is by no means essential.  (Of course if you care to 'like' my facebook page, Madame Millefeuilles, I would be equally thankful.)  I will announce the winner in a week's time.

 

'Til then, I wish you all a beautiful week and thank you so much for taking the time to visit.

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

ps Happy, happy Thanksgiving to all our friends across the seas.  I will raise a glass to you on my birthday :-)

Of Mice And Men

 

Dear readers,

 Sixteen of us, spanning four generations, gathered to celebrate my father's ninetieth birthday last Saturday in Tunbridge Wells.  There was much laughter, fabulous champagne, and a few tears of pride too.  We all savoured every hour of that special, intense, day together and revelled in our shared pride of this wonderful man who almost lost his life in Brac, Yugoslavia on June 6th 1944 (D-day in Normandy). 

A week on, the excitement having died down, I look back on last Saturday and feel compelled to celebrate quietly our good fortune.  One of my favourite moments was, once the small children were in bed, sipping a glass of 1934 Port, poured by my father in his book-lined study, and chatting warmly together.  My parents, four siblings, three husbands, and a few of my sisters' eldest children all discussing freely in English and French as we have done for decades.  We recalled with wonder the speech made by my twenty-one year old nephew and marvelled at how well our children had demonstrated their love for their grand-father.

This picture, taken by Tristan, shows the place cards he created with Héloïse for this special birthday party. Mushrooms, delicate leaves, intricate trees, and hearts, all cut out from handmade paper, represent their love for their grand-father.

Angélique, the youngest member of our extended family, behaved almost perfectly and seemed determined never to let my father out of her sight the whole day through.  I was lucky to have just enough time before we departed to knit this little tunic for the party in the rich autumnal hues of Madelinetosh Sock yarn in Amber Trinket (swoon).  Paulette, is a new pattern by the very gifted Nadia Crétin-Léchenne.  I have been an avid reader of her blog, Ittybitty, for a few months now.  I think her six children fuel her knitting creativity and I cannot help but feel a little in awe of her ability to channel her energy around those six little beings.  Goodness me...

You can find my Ravery notes here.  It has suddenly dawned upon me that I need to knit two more sweaters before the end of the year to  successfully complete the 12 Sweaters In 2012 Ravelry Challenge.  Um, alright then.

Now, just look at this adorable little lady dangling in the tree!  Her name is Miss Autumn and she is the creation of lovely, lovely Vivienne from Green Rabbit Designs.  I am certain that you all know Vivienne.  I really wish I could meet her some day.  The next best thing was owning one of her rabbits.  Of course, Angélique is the rightful owner and I must say Miss Autumn never leaves her side.  She was the only toy to accompany her on our travels to England and, as you can see, this beautiful rabbit had some fun too!  (Can some kind soul please tell me what this beautiful tree is, please?)  One of the pleasures of Vivienne's rabbits is their size and weight.  They are a joy to hold and sit perfectly in little hands.  If you are tempted I think a Christmas rabbit is in the making but keep your eye open for the last one, Miss Holly, was snapped up very quickly indeed. 

Now I have a little whiskered-somebody to show you. Please do not all crowd around her for she is very timid indeed (despite the fact she is showing a bit of leg).

Her name is Mademoiselle Poppy and she has been made for a lady who wishes to commemorate her mother whose name was Poppy, of course.  She has requested an heirloom to pass on to her children who loved their grandmother dearly.  What a lovely commission this has been for me, don't you agree? She is my first mouse and hopefully not my last.  What do you think of her?

Judging from appearances this mouse has a very sweet tooth! I feel she has one foot in the summer meadows but is looking ahead to Christmas. She has translucent sequins on her antique lace-trimmed pantaloons and pearly whiskers. Of course the red, white, and green remind me of the Festive Season too.

I am fully aware of the seeming lack of respect of revealing a poppy-clad mouse on Armistice Day. I have mulled over this for hours and I hope you will forgive me for I have promised Mademoiselle Poppy's future owner to reveal her today.  I'm very sorry.

I really ought to stop rabbiting on and let you get on with something more important!  Thank you all so much for stopping by.  Your kindness and thoughtful comments make me smile from ear to ear.  I hope you are all well and I wish you a happy week full of peace and hope.

 

A bientôt dear friends,

 

Stephanie

 



Did Pre-Raphaelite Women Wear Chunky Knits?

Dear readers,

 

First, I would like to say my thoughts have been straying across to the East Coast of America.  I really hope you are all safe and well.

 

I am taking a break from my father's 90th birthday celebration preparations.  Embroidering mushrooms - my father is a keen mycologist - may be a wonderful way of symbolising a great man but, goodness me, I do get muddled with all those shades of brown!  Meanwhile the children are turning autumnal-coloured papers into place cards worthy of the most glorious of Baroque stage scenery.  I am quite serious! I will take a picture of their creations to show you all next time. Believe me; they are quite beautiful but have also provoked a few, ahem, heated discussions.  To top it all, Angélique, after four months of flourishing health, turned feverish and fretful this Sunday and graciously passed on her virus to me.  Ah, the joys of family life...

 

So here I am turning my back on browns, reds, oranges, purples, and germs and embracing a little greenery.

During the entire month of October I nursed the hope of visiting the gardens of Villandry again to admire the pumpkins growing higgledy piggledy in the potager against the magnificent backdrop of vivid green boxtree broderies before this château closed its gates for winter.  However endlessly rainy weekends and cherished visitors from afar thwarted my plans so here instead is a picture of the ornamental gardens at Villandry taken last spring to nourish my love of vegetation.  Rainy Sundays inspired me to pick up my knitting needles and make something for my eldest daughter.  Half the fun of knitting for her is choosing the colour together and three cheers for Héloïse; she chose GREEN!
 
Here is Melissa LaBarre's Agnes which I have renamed "Boxtree".  I could have called it "In The Blink Of An Eye" for I swear this is the most ridiculously rapid knit ever!  I am not very fond of chunky knits and mostly prefer knitting with fine yarns however this pattern has seduced me to the non-negligible charms of fast knitting together with the delights of Quince & Co. Puffin yarn.  Here are my Ravelry notes in case you are interested.

Don't you think that colour suits Héloïse?  That hair makes me think of a Pre-Raphaelite woman.  I'm getting quite excited at the thought of finding some knitting patterns which would suit this Pre-Raphaelite look of hers.  Any ideas?

Like all mothers I am proud of my daughter.  She is strong, thoughtful, bright as a button, and stoic.

It is not always easy to be the eldest of three but I am grateful to her for being supportive and patient.  We try to carve some precious time out to spend together for I cannot help but see the moment looming on the horizon when she will spread her wings and fly away.  I cherish our brainstorming sessions for she is very creative despite her school's desire to push her into a scientific profession.  Do you remember, about a month ago, I wrote about an audition at the regional academy of music and theatre?  After three intensive days Héloïse was accepted alongside eleven other candidates, aged between twenty and twenty-six.  There had been fifty two would-be actors auditioning.  Of course Héloïse was thrilled but her hopes were slightly dashed when she found out the five-hour weekly classes were scheduled on wednesday afternoons: a time when most secondary schools do not have lessons here in France.  Héloïse's school, unfortunately, is an exception to this rule. The academy teaching staff were sweetly disappointed and urged her to drop in and participate whenever she had a spare moment.  They also reassured her that a place would be kept for her in the future.

All's well that ends well.

In the meantime I must return to browns, feeding my merry band of artists, and slowly preparing for our departure on Friday.  I am nursing myself back to health with all manner of herbal infusions and teas.  My favourite at the moment is Mariage Frères Chandrenagor black tea.mixed with cloves, ginger, cinnamon, cardamom, and black pepper.  It really is heavenly with a spoonful of brown sugar.  Which begs the question: which tea are you drinking today?

Keep well and happy end of week to you all.

Stephanie

Hark! Hark! Each Tree Its Silence Breaks

 

Dear readers,

I am dedicating this post to my remarkable father who turns ninety today.  He is a lover of wood and a talented carpenter in his spare time.

"Hark, hark! Each Tree its silence breaks,
The Box and Fir to talk begin!
This is the sprightly Violin
That in the Flute distinctly speaks!"

(Nicholas Brady 1659-26)

Adapted to music by Henry Purcell in his Ode to St. Cecilia in 1692.  To be listened to and marvelled over here).

 1., 2. and 3.  French early eighteenth-century 'Baroque' oboe.  Referred to as E108.  The original was made of ebony and ivory with silver keys.  Mine is made by Olivier Cottet from ebony and rosewood.  Click here if you would like to here an extract of this instrument being played by my teacher, Elsa Frank.

4. and 5. The tools required to make an oboe reed.  One of the challenges of learning this instrument is having to make one's own reed as there are none available for purchase.  Tricky?  Oh, yes!  The reed on the left was my first attempt. (Don't be fooled; it looks alright but the quality of sound was just not good enough.)  An eighteenth-century oboe only has two keys so to reach the higher notes the reed, which is more supple than a modern oboe's, must be blown harder which makes for very achy cheek muscles! 

6. and 7.  An example of the exquisite music to be played on the Baroque oboe. Anne Danican Philidor (1681-1728), composed sublime music, heavily ornamented to show off the player's virtuosity. Do you see all those crosses on the score?  Each one represents a different ornament.  The bass clef is for the harpsichord accompaniment.  The numbers refer to the chords to be played.

*******************

The idea, put into words by NIcholas Brady, of trees finding their voices is a charming one.  Instrument makers put so much love into the wood they chisel and carve so that musicians may cherish the instruments they play.  Some believe that trees speak to one another in the woodlands too.  I would very much like to know what they murmur to each other during autumn as their leaves turn into a symphony of colours and fall silently to the mossy ground.  Are they sad or joyful?  To celebrate this bitter sweet moment I have made Mademoiselle Autumn Serenade, possibly my last autumn hare this year.

This little lady is a lucky hare for she has been stitched from hand-dyed linen (R & R Reproductions for those who like to embroider with soft, natural coloured linens), hand-dyed felted wool, purchased from this lady, and embroidered with silk thread in glorious, hand-dyed autumnal colours.  Her crowning glory is the handmade lace which has been lovingly prepared by a friend of mine for her.  Somehow that creamy lace on the dark tweed trousers reminds me of the ivory and ebony wood on my oboe; do you agree?  Mademoiselle Autumn Serenade, with her embroidered leaves gracing both ankle and ear, is a quiet soul who loves to wander through the countryside and forests gazing up at the trees and the autumn leaves drifting silently to the ground. If the wind is blowing too hard she likes to retreat indoors to sit by the fire, sipping spicy tea and listening to classical music. She is not much of a chatterer but she does like singing quietly to herself, perhaps a little Henry Purcell?  If she were your hare which music would she be singing, I wonder?  If one of you might like to give a home to her you will find her here.

And now I must prepare the decorations for my father's birthday celebration to be held in Tunbridge Wells the first weekend of November.  November?  Where did this year go?

I wish you all a tranquil and happy week.  I will be back very soon as I have some pictures of Héloïse I cannot resist showing you!

Stephanie

Edited Tuesday morning: Mademoiselle Autumn Serenade is off to start a new chapter in her long-eared life. Farewell!


Baroque Autumn: Autumnal Hare

 

"Man was caught between truth and illusion; life, perhaps, was merely a dream and the world was like a theatre which would split itself into many parts and the mask would become a face; a double-sided face which revealed the existence of opposites and man's constantly changing nature."

 

translated from Philippe Beaussant, Versailles, Opéra (p. 12)

via
 

Now that autumn is well and truly here I find myself retreating back into my imagination more and more.  Ideas are dancing around my head and strange characters inhabit my sleep.  It's all good although a balance needs to be struck as ever with real life. For a few years now I have been quite fascinated by seventeenth-century performing arts and the term Baroque.  It's a difficult concept to pin down but that, I believe, is part of its charms. Elaborate, excessive, inconstancy, and make-believe are but a few defintions all sharply contrasted to sober rationality.  To understand the Baroque world is to enter a place where appearances are deceptive and the trompe-l'oeil becomes reality.  I love it but only as long as it remains distinct from my real world, you see. 

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When living in Normandy I had the good fortune to learn how to play the Baroque oboe with Jérémie Papasergio and his wife Elsa Frank (seen here in central place brandishing a baroque oboe).  Through these years of aching face muscles and dizzy spells (it is a very, very hard instrument to play: more on that at a later date, Sue and Annie) I struck up a friendship with this remarkable couple who, in turn, introduced me to a fascinating world of Baroque specialists.  The two pictures above are taken from the Baroque company Le Poème harmonique directed by the extremely dishy talented Vincent Dumestre.  Jémémie and Elsa regularly performed in Vincent's Baroque operas (as seen in the two pictures below) and, well, Héloïse and I had the good fortune to attend a few dress rehearsals at the Opéra Comique in Paris.

Whilst researching Baroque costumes this week I was particularly interested in a 1977 costume created for Jean-Philippe Rameau's opera Platée which was designed by Beni Montrésor (1926 - 2001).  Unfortunately I cannot reveal this costume to you today but, in true Baroque style, I fell into the enchanting , multifaceted world of Montrésor's children's book illustrations.

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There are many of Beni Montrésor's books available secondhand.  I urge you to take a look here; you will be both charmed and inspired by his artwork, I believe.

Finally, as we stepped out this morning, my husband and I, to take a few pictures of my first autumnal hare, I could not help but notice as the sky turned from lead to blue and the surrounding vegetation had turned from green to jewel-like colours, that autumn too, perhaps, could be accused of being Baroque.



It will come as little surprise to you all to learn that

 Mademoiselle Mellow Autumn

 the first of three autumnal hares to make an appearance here, was inspired by my passion for Baroque opera and also John Keats's poem "To Autumn".

Here she is:

Mademoiselle Mellow Autumn is warmly dressed and cheery-natured.  She revels in wandering through orchards, woodland, and gathering fruit and berries. She is also partial to sitting by the fire and sipping tea or hot chocolate which she ALWAYS drinks with tiny melted marshmallows.  If you would like to see more details about her pop over here although I should whisper in your ear now that she has already GONE!

I have knitted garments for her two friends from yarn called 'Homemade Jam', 'Embers', and 'Long Johns' for her friends.  Aren't those splendid names for autumnal colours? They will be introducted to you shortly.

Until then I really hope you haven't been too bored. 

I wish you ALL a beautfiul, tranquil weekend.

A bientôt,

Stephanie