October 8, 2009
Linda's Post
I am lulled to sleep by delicate rainfall followed by it's subtle thunder. It softens the sound of the church bells next door. I imagine a little Quasimoto swinging from the bells, they are that erratic. Sometimes on target, every hour day and night. Other times willy nilly on and on. I am very accustomed to them now, I know I will miss these bells when I leave.
I want to tell you about Corinne... the lady of the manor. We rarely see her as she and their son, Joel are often in their kitchen preparing the most fabulous meals for us. We heard her story after dinner the other night. Always in her apron, she told us of her dreams, her journey and of her passion... the gardens.
We had decided to spend the day here at the convent. It is a shame to leave this medieval hamlet where Le Vieux Couvant resides. As lovely as all of the villages that are sprinkled here and there are, I really long to spend a few days here, painting and reflecting. Enter the magical gardens, under arbors heavy with grapes. Every few steps another prayer spot or meditation corner. The entire garden was meticulously created by Corinne, designer extrordinaire. It is neither fussy or formal. Every nook and cranny looks as if it was here forever. Little vignettes and details abound. A tiny garden gargoyle peering from behind the ivy, an ostrich topiary behind an ivory covered ballerina, perfect in perfection... We pick figs and raspberries, citrus trees even in October. The flowers are so abundant even this late in the year. I imagine little fairies that come out at night to tend the plants. Where Corinne finds the time, I do not know. Quite places to paint, find solitude, little paths with hidden delights around. So many things end up on our table. The French way. Stuffed figs, peach sorbet, on and on.
This woman, I am sure is the backbone of this family. Her husband, Bill is delightful, funny and talented. Such a wonderful couple. He certainly adores her, touching her shoulder as she speaks. An inspiration to me in many ways. I could stay here all week and paint. I hope to return.


