Celestine In The Palais Royal Gardens

 Dear readers,

It's funny how it goes. Spring has hit with a visual thunderclap, the sun has played central stage for a few heady days and perky male birds are intent on luring a harem of quietly coloured females with their exquisite serenades. Despite this delightful spectacle assailing my senses I have been feeling quite melancholic. Nature always has the final word, you will agree, and so I have tried to accept this temporary state of mind as gracefully as possible. 

Wandering the countryside has raised my spirits, of course.  The fruit trees are proudly displaying their finest garnments and as my eyes travel upwards in wonder I tell myself that never before have I seen such an opulent display of blossom.  I also thank my lucky stars that, unlike my eldest daughter Héloïse, I am not allergic to pollen: it's going to be a potent time for hayfever sufferers this spring.

My sadness is no more than a good dose of nostalgia, I beIieve, following a full day in Paris after dropping Héloïse and Tristan off at the Gare du Nord.  An afternoon spent soaking in the beauty of the Palais Royal arcades and gardens on a glorious spring day whilst recalling years of happy memories in this city left me feeling foolishly wistful.

 Have you ever been to the Palais Royal?  The peaceful gardens, nestled amongst seventeenth-century architecture and a stone's throw away from the Louvre Museum, are quite enchanting.  Prior to the French Revolution, Louis-Philippe Joseph II Duc d’Orleans, King Louis XVI's cousin, had turned the Palais Royal into the place to be in Paris. The gardens were crowded both day and night. Café tables and chairs spilled out into the gardens at all hours. Circus acts and street performers entertained the crowds. Parisians as well as visitors from the provinces and abroad came to the Palais Royal to shop, gamble, drink, mingle, and discuss the ideas of Enlightenment philosophy without threat of censorship or imprisonment.

 

Perched on a straight-backed iron bench that afternoon last week I observed the present day gardens. The linden trees with timid leaves unfurling - as seen in the first picture above - hopping sparrows, and lusty magnolias sporting the most stunning pink blooms I have ever seen.  Within the cloistered lawns crowds of delicate narcissi jostled for attention alongside bonbon pink tulips and blue hyacinths.  There was birdsong everywhere and around the exuberant central fountain people sat, their faces uplifted to catch the sun with bare feet and blissful smiles.  Gaggles of children whispered and giggled behind clipped round boxtrees enclosed in celadon painted wooden containers whilst their parents gossiped and chastised.   There were sweet girls with cropped haircuts and petal pink dresses and knits scuffing their shoes in the dust.  These little girls were the inspiration behind Celestine Mouse, my latest creation.

She reminds me of the old-fashioned toy shops hidden in the arcades surrounding the gardens.  Her dress is so very French as are her pantaloons stitched from 1900 hand-embroidered tulle and trimmed with handmade lace.  I made her in rememberance of bygone times still present in such places as these gardens which are suffused with social history.  Content though Celestine might be playing in central Paris she is even happier lying in the grass in our garden and looking up through the branches of our cherry trees.

And because sewing makes me happy and soothes my nostalgic heart I decided to make this little mouse another dress from Liberty fabric trimmed with 1940's lace.

 If you would care to take a closer look at Celestine - and her two dresses - she may be found here, patiently twiddling her thumbs and dreaming of bygone days in Paris.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my (self-indulgent) words, wonderful readers.  I am a little curious to know whether you too suffer from bouts of nostalgia?

A bientôt,

Stephanie



Apricots For Solace

Dear readers,

This post is about unkempt orchards, cherries, and Angélique.  It is also about a need for solace, knitting and the colour apricot. 

I am a little tearful as I write this post though happy too.  Life is beautiful but there are also testing times when, in our case, learning the art of patience is almost too hard to bear.  Mickaël and I are awaiting the final (we hope) verdict of one of two  long-drawn-out legal battles which should come in the early days of July; a painful case of unfair dismissal which occured shortly after Angélique was born.  Thanks to his splendid determination and sunny outlook I have witnessed my husband making great advances in a new professional sphere and I am so very proud of him.  

We strive onwards and upwards in our own small ways every day.  We both take enormous pleasure in our three children and relish their passions and achievements.  From time to time however frustration seeps into our hearts and makes them a little heavy although for the most part we bear the discomfort quietly.  I gain solace from many things; dreaming up my linen rabbits (or hares as many prefer to call them) is the first thing which springs to mind.  I also need to be outside.  For Mother's Day a couple of weeks ago I had the great joy of receiving a beautiful bicycle and I take it out to the vineyards whenever possible with my knitting bag slung in the basket and breathe quietly and freely.  I have found that knitting grounds me perfectly too.  The excitement of choosing a pattern, mulling over colours and yarns but mostly the simple fact that I am in control of the garment I am constructing.  If I stumble across a mistake I give a little sigh and frog it knowing that I alone can undo, redo and complete the project.  There is no sense of helplessness.  This is a very heartening thought indeed and much better than coming unravelled myself.

I would like to share with you, if I may, some of the many pockets of pure joy savoured during the past week.

Angélique and I have walked to this orchard several times this week.  There are cherry trees, pear, plum, peach, and fig trees growing alongside the vineyards.  It is a heavenly spot. We have the good fortune of being able to pick cherries by the handful. Today we forgot our basket and ended up using a pair of boots to hoard our treasure.

There has been some solace knitting in between stitching my beloved rabbits/hares.

Whilst orange is not my favourite colour apricots are my favourite fruit.  This is the time of year when we indulge in kilos of peaches - the French always scoff at my preference for yellow over white peaches with their more delicate flavour - melon, and apricots.  I always add a vanilla pod cut lengthways when preparing a batch of apricot jam. 

I decided to buy my first Quince & Co. Lark yarn in Apricot.

 Kelly Herdrich's "In Threes" pattern, as you can see, is a v-e-r-y simple pattern indeed.

Which is just what I needed this week ... 

before starting a more challenging knitting project next week.

Details are on Ravelry, of course and I will be slipping this little number into my 12 Sweaters In 2012 challenge.  That makes it six in total so far I believe.

I have lingered beside these apricot-coloured roses on my way to and from my children's school.

I am looking forward to visiting the International Garden Festival at Chaumont sur Loire very soon whilst reliving some memories of last year's which was on the theme of "Future Gardens" - Jardins de l'Avenir.

Le Jardin de Madame Irma was one of my favourites. 

Madame Irma is a fortune teller which makes her's a garden of the future, naturally!

And, as you know, I love gypsy caravans although I'm pretty sure our future one will not look similar to this one.  It's wonderful to dream although putting our dreams into reality is much more satisfying, don't you think?

And it's apricot coloured, right?

There are so many delights surrounding us all.  Which things have been giving YOU joy this week?

I'm off to give my children a hug and to make more rabbits. I'll be back with an update on those creatures soon.

Stephanie