The Meadow Hare Winner

Oh my, oh my!

 

If I have chosen to portray a small part of Mademoiselle Flower Meadow below it is simply because I wish in some magical way I could give a little piece of her to every single wonderful soul who participated in this giveaway both here and on Madame Millefeuilles.  But that just wouldn't work, would it?  A winner must be chosen and before the very obliging Random Number Generator did its job this morning a lot of additions and, dare I say, a smattering of multiplications needed to be performed with the wonderful list of hopeful shares on Facebook and the numerous cheery comments on this blog.

 

Phew!

 

Before I announce this flowery Demoiselle's destination I really would like to THANK YOU ALL from the bottom of my sincere heart.  There will be other giveaways, I promise!

 

So, this little hare is off to Germany to  live with Bärbel, (aka The Garden Fairy).  Please Bärbel, could you send me your address via e-mail?

 

I will be returning in a few days.  I am dreaming away, stitching and knitting during this wonderful everyday life we live.   I wish you all well.

 

A très bientôt,

 

Stephanie 



Flower Meadow Hare - GIVEAWAY!

Dear readers,

 

Inspiration, I am sure you will agree, may be found in many corners of our lives.  These past few days I have looked for it in the books I read whilst snuggled up with Angélique*, and in the merry profusion of wild flowers, sparkling in the September sun, which, I swear, seem to lift their swaying heads as I approach them on my way to the vineyards.

 Enchanted flower meadows don't just exist in Belle Ile En Mer; I've stumbled across quite a few here in France and there's even one a few minutes stroll away from our home. A 'Van Gogh cornfield or a mad technicolor Liberty print' as Katherine Swift describes them, they are composed of a clever mixture of native and non-native hardy annuals which flower over an extremely long period from mid-June through to early November.  The one nearby, alive with bees and brilliantly charged with colour, boasts blue cornflower, brown-eyed susans, toadflax, yellow corn marigold and self-heal amongst others I cannot name yet.

 A fabulous source of inspiration.

And so, dear friends, to celebrate your kindness and generosity and the past two years of Millefeuilles I have created Mademoiselle Flower Meadow as a GIVEAWAY to you.

She has been such a joy to stitch.  A little Liberty lawn (from the fabric used to make Angélique's summer dress), the softest merino fingering yarn from The Uncommon Thread in the Meadow Grass colourway, a few strands of hand-dyed silk and cotton threads to embroider those meadow flowers and my last piece of 1890s pale yellow lace to trim a pair of bloomers.  Oh, and I mustn't forget the 1940s ivory lace on Miss Hare's skirt either!

 So, if Mademoiselle Flower Meadow finds favour with you there are three ways to win her and you can try all three ways to give yourselves some extra luck.

 

First, all you have to do is to leave a comment at the end of this post.  Everybody is welcome regardless of where you live or whether you are a regular reader of Millefeuilles.

 

For a second chance, if you wish, you can mention this giveaway on your blog or put a link in your sidebar.  Please feel free to choose the picture your prefer for that.

 

Finally, if you are on Facebook, there is a post about this giveaway on my page which if you LIKE and SHARE will give you another chance to win.  Don't forget to leave another quick comment here once you have done the deed to let me know.

 

This giveaway will close on Tuesday 17th September and I will be using the Random Number Generator to pick the winner.

 

Thank you ALL for your encouragement and for leaving such kind comments. 

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

* The four illustrations above are from three books all of which are illustrated by my current favourite artist; Charlotte Gastaut.

 

Charles Perrault, Les Fées

Charlotte Gastaut, Le Grand Voyage de Mademoiselle Prudence

Hans Christian Andersen, Poucette

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Forget Me Not

Dear readers,

 

This is not a blog post as such.  I simply wish to let you know that I am sending you all a warm hug from France.  I am mastering the art (again) of treading carefully whilst I replenish my iron levels (again).  Despite this temporary state of fatigue I am feeling hopeful and excited about current projects and the school year ahead.

Sometime in early summer my blog, Millefeuilles, turned two.  I have experienced so much sweet generosity from so many of you and I would very much like to offer you all a gift; one of my limited edition hares - not Mademoiselle Forget-Me-Not featured below - but a special creature which captures the beauty of summer dreams and the glorious transition into early autumn.  I will be posting pictures of her here during the course of this week and offering you a chance to win her.

 

 

In the meantime I am concentrating on my three dear children and helping them, I hope, to prepare for their return to school tomorrow.

  

Héloïse is embarking on her final year of school...

 Tristan who may be living great changes thanks to his music...

 and finally, Angélique who is starting pre-school (maternelle) tomorrow: a big change for this three-year-old daughter of mine (and her mother too).  I'm wishing for a smooth transition for for all three of them.

 So, I will see you in a few days and I hope you all have a wonderful start to this first week of september.

 

A très bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

ps Dear Claire, I am busy dreaming of Rapunzel and exquisite yarns.



Flower Meadow

Belle Ile en Mer is an enchanted island stretching away from the Quiberon peninsula in southern Brittany.  Fennel and marjoram grow wild on the verge of its narrow lanes and the sea air is so pure it deserves to be sipped like the finest champagne.









 Along the rue des Impressionnistes on the outskirts of the tiny village Kervilahouen, where Claude Monet dwelled from September to November 1886, there is a flower meadow of breathtaking beauty filled with drowsy, drunken bees.  On the final morning of our holiday the children asked to see it one more time before heading out to the beach.  Angélique wore a simple Liberty summer dress, adapted from this book, (and sewn on the eve of our holidays when I should have been packing, sorting, and cleaning instead) and a beret made from The Uncommon Thread's merino fingering in the vibrant Meadow Grass colourway.  The pattern is Alana Dakos's Rustling Leaves Beret, an adult-sized hat which I knitted up on smaller needles to fit  my sweet daughter's head.  The hat was a treat to knit thanks to Alana's flawless pattern.  I had to shake out a sprinkling of sand after casting it off and the look on the kind hotel employee's face when I requested a plate to block the beret with was priceless! 

 

My Ravelry notes may be found here.

 I am grateful to my husband for taking all the picture above of our daughter together with this one below of Port Coton - a stone's throw away from our hotel - where Monet painted Les Aiguilles during his ten-week stay on the island.

 Mostly, however, I am deeply, deeply grateful to my wonderful parents (do you recall my father's ninetieth birthday celebration last November?) for making this holiday possible.  Thanks to them my children's heads are full of precious memories and the bond between cousins, aunts and uncles is stronger still.  My heart is aching now that we have waved good-bye to each and every precious member of this family of ours once again.  Distance can sometimes be cruel, don't you think?

Warmest wishes to you all.  I hope your summer has been filled with magical moments too. It's not over yet!

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 

ps Dear, dear Claire I simply must tell you how much your beautiful parcel soothed my sad heart on our return to reality yesterday.  You are the most generous-hearted lady and very soon you will be reading more about your exquisite gifts right here.  Thank you!



My Last Summer Rose

 "Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls,
Come hither, the dances are done,
In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls,
Queen lily and rose in one;
Shine out, little head, sunning over with curls,
To the flowers, and be their sun."

Extract from Alfred Tennyson's Song From Maud

Choosing among summer flowers may be like choosing among children; each has its delights.  But if I were to describe my own unique paradise it would be brimming with roses waiting to be caressed and inhaled in the cool, early morning light.  What a display my rose garden would be: an explosion of pink flowers, a bright spectrum of colours, rearranging their blankets of colour each day, as some blooms fade and others open.  Some open simply, others are intricate and ruffled, and all sport a glorious name.  Perhaps, in some sense, every rose is like a child; wearing a carefully picked name and worthy of love.  Each rose and rosebud has a face, after all.  Which flowers would you fill your corner of paradise with, I wonder?

Frederick Childe Hassam, Gathering Flowers in a French Garden, 1888

Whilst on holiday this summer I will be sure to read Colette's My Mother's House and Sido; a book which has been patiently waiting on my dusty bedside shelf.  Colette's tribute to her mother and childhood garden is touching in its simplicity.  One can almost imagine walking alongside her on the dew-drenched lawn, kissing the roses, and talking to the flowers aligned in their terracotta pots.

And here is my last summer mouse and perhaps even my last mouse of this kind (except for a couple which have been requested as customer orders, of course).  I am hoping to make something new, something different on our return from holiday, although I will be continuing, with great pleasure, to create more hares.  Mademoiselle Rosebud has been partly inspired by one of my favourite blogs; Bateaux de papier, Amélie's diary to her daughter Elsa.  Her most recent post is a tribute to the roses in her garden and is delightful.  Please take a moment to enjoy her poetic pictures which always leave me with food for thought and a smile of pleasure.

 If pink Indian silk, French rosebud-patterned fabric and antique lace and rose-trimmed vintage ribbon are your thing then you may find Mademoiselle Rosebud here.

 

This is, I think, a shorter post than usual.  Late nights drinking sangria by the Loire, bicycle rides and children eagerly waiting to be taken to the outdoors swimming pool are making time more precious still.  And that is how it should be.  I wish you all a glorious summery Sunday and week ahead.

 

A bientôt,

 

Stephanie

 



Battenberg Cake (And The Necessity Of Making Apricot Jam)

Dear readers,

The frivolous and whimsical Battenberg Cake never made it on my mother's shopping list when I was little (Mr Kipling's 'Exceedingly Good Cakes' would never grace a French woman's pantry shelves, I can tell you) and so, I'm afraid, it turned into something of a childhood fantasy.*  Nowadays, each time I catch sight of a picture of a Battenberg Cake I start to smile uncontrollably.  There's something about those pink and yellow squares which conjures up images of tea with Alice at the Madhatter's or a little girl serving cake to her teddy bears on her doll's teaset.  And the marzipan which neatly wraps it up?  Well that transports me back to my mother's Christmas cake, of course, and stealing small slabs of it from beneath her nose to share with my best friend!  Yes, I must confess, I was a gluttonous child. 

 The recipe above from one of my favourite cake books, Fiona Cairns' Bake & Decorate, (it really is an aesthetic joy with some glorious tea time recipes) has been calling out to me for a while now and I do believe the moment has come to make it: what better time than a heatwave for baking a cake, right?  But first I had to satisfy an odd urge.  Can you imagine wearing a knitted version of the retro Battenberg Cake?

 

Well here it is!  A very different version of this shawl made last month: Dani Sunshine's beautiful Vintage Bouquet.



I think this shawl is a lot healthier for me than a thick slice of Battenberg cake but it is, for the knitter and the wearer, much more of a treat.  The pink yarn you see is Artisan Yarns Silk And Baby Camel Fingering (with a luxurious 65% silk content).  I combined it with the creamy-coloured, merino Madelinetosh Sock.  Aside from its tantalizing colourways I noticed how many have lauded the Silk and Baby Camel's softness but its sheen and lightweight texture after blocking is worthy of any fairy tale!  I think it is probably much more addictive than Battenberg Cake too :-)

 

My Ravelry notes, for those who are interested, are here. I'm not one to brag (really not)but I'm delighted to see that in a few short hours this shawl has earned ninety four hearts and some very sweet words too over on Ravelry.  What a wonderful community of generous-hearted people it is!

 

Before I turn to making this childhood fantasy cake of mine I need to fill seven pots with the apricot jam my children helped me make today (it was only 35°C today, after all).  Five kilos of sweetly-scented, blushing French apricots were split and sorted by Angélique.  I believe she also threw the sugar in and a split vanilla pod for good measure.  Dear Tristan performed his usual magical bout of stirring.  In all honesty, as I stood over the copper pot and breathed in the simmering jam, I decided there is NO smell more divine and more French than apricot jam. 

So now I have the required apricot jam to glue the Battenberg cake together.

 

And now I won't let you leave before you share with me which sweet treat transports you back to your childhood! 

 

 A bientôt,

 

Stéphanie

 

* Is the Battenberg Cake a purely British culinary tradition?  Are my readers in America, etc. familiar with it?