The inside of the front door to the Presbytére is amazing.
It has so much metal banding, locks and security devices that make one wonder how popular the clergy were in France.

It was painted a dull dirty yellow until given the treatment by the wonderful brother-in-law; Martin Lyes.

Voila !

We have also managed to start putting up our pictures.

With the clock racing we are getting closer and closer to our finished beautiful state.
Here are some pictures of the progress, the newly repaired front door, the new dining chairs, the new extractor over the counter, my glass display cabinets (still minimilist, but not for long) there is still loads to do but we have come a long way now.

My friend Clive had a puncture and brought his van to the local garage here in Thézan to be fixed.

When he got back to the house he discovered that M. Coste, the proprietor of the garage had used this opportunity for a little self promotion.

Full name and address under the numberplate

And a dinky and tasteful logo on the back.

Our thought was that had it been a full service instead of a puncture what vast advertising hardware would the car have been embellished with.
(It is enterprising though- and these French logos will look very cool in County Kilkenny when he gets back)

The village of Thézan last September, surrounded by vines.

Yesterday I paid a visit to the dentist in St Chinian who was recommended by our friends Barry and Mary.
I had broken the side of a tooth eating bread and a loose back molar, loose for some years now, was swinging about telling me it was it’s moment for leaving.
All was accomplished painlessly and cheerfully (and cheaply), one extraction, one filling’ and I headed home happy.

Unfortunately later I started to bleed where the extraction had taken place and during the night it showed no signs of stopping.
I headed for Google and discovered that the best cure was a wet tea bag clamped on the wound, do not lie down, and then, once it stops no exertion (or chewing) for 24 hours.

The first two I have done and (after a shocking waste of Barry’s Gold Blend Bags) they worked, the third I am working on so I have a blissful 24 hours with nothing to do.
I went and had a rootle of the books I had brought out here three years ago when we bought the place and started a re-visit to a book I had enjoyed at the time; “ Confessions of a Wine Lover” by Jancis Robinson.
As I started reading I remembered that she had also bought a house in the Languedoc and went to that part of the book where she writes very well about the area.
She tells us that despite the area around Narbonne having the longest history of wine production in France, the Romans even imported it from there to the Rome Empire, by the mid twentieth century the majority of producers in the Languedoc were producing “cheap plonk for the industrial workers in the north who regarded thin red wine as a more reliable alternative to water and drank it in great quantity”

As the taste for this declined , along came the EU and these wines became part of the “wine lake”.
This has let to a lot of digging up of old prolific vines and has led to the area being known as “France’s New World” as more flavourful, low yield and demanding vines are planted in their place.
There is now evidence of this transformation all around us.
Wines of the Languedoc are now commonly named by their Grape Type as new world wines are. Chardonnay, Viognier and (my favourite)Picpoul thrive here as do Mourvèdre, Grenache and Syrah.

Another snippet of information which Jancis passes on is that the vineyard owners of Australia and California are busy buying up land in this area.
I wonder why?

The brother-in-law, another Martin, was foolish enough to come down to us for his holidays, and immediately given a paint brush.
We have discovered in him a steady eye and hand and he has made a beautiful job of the painted stair rail.

We have just about a month left before our first booking and Yes!,
we are going to make it ,but Yes !! we still have loads to do.

The old hand painted tiles are now over the sink in the kitchen, no two the same.

Now at last the long corridor from front to back hall has been painted…. well the walls have, not yet the woodwork.

Just by painting over the stair well we have found an amazing sculpture of beams and joists.

This is the bed in the baby room, it also has a bathroom and a little atrium with a desk (and the best view in the house)

The bed in the Chambre Chiminée, all set up for some family. Note well the Clive Nunn designed headboards.

The bed in the Chambre Famille, not set up, but aren’t the colours perfect.

Yesterday Clive, Síle, and I made a trip into Montpellier, our capital in Herault and our nearest Ikea.
To do this one goes along the A9, La Languedocienne, a busy motorway at anytime of the year but especially so in Summer.
It is built on top of the Via Domitia, the original Roman road linking Spain to Rome and is the road Hannibal travelled on with his elephants en route to the Alps.
It is still incredibly important as a road linking countries and as well as E for Spain and P for Portugal I saw cars from Belgium, Holland, Germany, Denmark,Switzerland,Hungary, and lots of others I don’t even recognise.

Ikea, god bless it came up with all of our bathroom fittings at a fraction of the cost we would have bought them elsewhere and we then took the marvellous Tramway, a Park and Ride system, which brings one from just by Ikea and the motorway into the centre of the city for 4 Euro, this gives you a free pass for the Tram for the day and free parking.

We brought Clive to the Fabre Musée who’s exhibition this summer is Mucha and again admired the Pierre Soulages black on black paintings on the top floor of the gallery.

After all that activity we decided to have our lunch for our dinner and just have some terrine and cheese when we got home.

With this in mind I found a Charcuiterie on the back streets and bought from him the very last slice of Pate de Campagne in his typical white dish.
“Since you have bought the last slice” says he “Would you like to keep the dish?”
I jumped at the chance of acquiring such a stunning piece of classic French culinary design and clunked it home to Thézan in the tram and the van.

It wasn’t until today however that it proved its worth.
After breakfast I got a yen for some of my own brown seedy bread.
I haven’t had any after all since the beginning of June.
But where was I to find my bread pans?
Buried I fear under tons of stuff in the cellar.

Then I had the serendipitous idea illustrated underneath.

In Skerries last week for Daideo’s funeral rites , there is so much more to a funeral than just the funeral itself in Ireland, and there was a terrific gathering of family.
Daideo was mourned and will be very much missed but the wonderful thing about these occasions in Ireland is that they always turn into celebrations of the departed, in some strange way almost joyful occasions.

Fionn tries to find out if he can remove his grandfather’s beard

Fionn’s beautiful second cousin and the other great grandchild; Bébhinn

Nephews Rónán de Bhaldraithe with Conor Ó Rónáin

Fionn attempts to give his Auntie Eileen a terrible hard suck.

(Sorry that my comments have been closed for the last week, caused by a lurgy attack.
Hopefully they are up and away now.)

Síle’s Dad , known to us all as Daideo, died this morning.
He had lasted well, he would have been 99 in the spring.
A wonderful Father, Grandfather and to me a much loved Father-in-law.

He will be much missed.

This is a picture of him with Mamo in 1943.

Good to think that he went to join her so quickly.

Slán Daideo.