Living and Building a home in the heart of France
9th December 2006
The village of Blond, amid the Blond Mountains as these slightly-higher-than-hereabouts hills are called, stages a street market each year. I remember coming here last December in the coldest wind that froze chins and tingled toes. But this year it's warmer and there's a jolly atmosphere among the stalls.
A Limousin calf in a pen at the fair. New calves appear in the fields all year round, it seems. They always look contended and calm. I think they have happy lives.
As well as porcelain, this area's known for its enamel work (confusingly called 'émail' in French). The very man who'd made these necklaces was the one who sold one to me at this stall. Proper craftwork.
Garlic, fresh, pink, local. Well, you have to buy some, don't you?
Huge brioches, soft chocolate-filled brioche buns, almond cakes with custardy centres, all sold by the artisans who'd made them today.