There is golden autumn around us, the forests we see on the hills around the village are rusty and brown, and the days are much shorter now, reminding us that winter is coming. Which is also evidenced by frosty mornings, with the grass and leaves edged by white. But before the really cold season is here, it is still time to enjoy the leafy nature outside, go mushrooming, and get the garden ready for the next season. Which is what we've been enjoying doing, and it is so much easier now having all this beauty basically right out our doors. Country pleasures - walks in the woods, picking mushrooms, watching the leaves turn golden Going for a walk in the woods is always a nearly magical experience for me, and we are so lucky to have quite a few beautiful forests around us. Just being there and inhaling the unique aroma of the forest calms and rejuvenates me. No city park can compare. As residents of our village we have permission to go and pick berries, mushrooms, and just enjoy these spaces. I love picking mushrooms, although I don't know much about them! As a city girl much of my life, I learnt some things from my grandfather who as a child went foraging for food. My neighbours took me mushrooming with them a couple of times, so now I know what to pick and what not to pick (for the most part). And in France, when in doubt, you can bring your basket of pickings to a pharmacy to make sure you are not going to eat something that will make you ill, or poison you. But where are we after five months of the house restoration project? I am sure many of you are waiting for the before and after pictures. And I am waiting to have all this behind us! There is progress! So this is where we are - in a nutshell, we are not done yet. Some parts of our house are getting a final lick of paint. Some still look like a war zone. Tiles, paint, and other finishing materials are standing at the ready waiting to be applied to the surfaces... In a positive development, a few days ago I was delighted to take a shower in our brand new bathroom which did not exist before. We decided to carve it out of a small bedroom, the rest of which became a small closet (because there is never enough storage, even in a big house!). We decided to keep it simple, with the original tomettes that were returned to their former glory - they were painted grey, and had to be stripped off paint by sand blasting. This operation was done right at the start of the project, and let me tell you, the dust got everywhere! I still find red tomette dust when I clean in corners and behind things. The walls are in warm neutral colors. The same New White hue by Farrow and Ball was applied in most of the spaces upstairs, giving them luminosity and warmth. The Zelige tile of the new bathroom is kept in off-white tones. We opted for no built in furniture, preferring free standing pieces, and re-used a sink that was already here but in the master bathroom. It is in great shape, dates from the 50's, and with the new water tap will be serving us forever. Many elements of this house are being reused here and there. I believe in not wasting anything, and moreover, furniture and fixtures were so much better made in the past. Wall lights and the mirror came from my beloved Puces du Canal in Lyon. Before and during (see "after" above) - before there was one skinny bedroom with tomettes painted in grey... The image on the right shows a wall in the shower tiles with the off-white Zelige tiles. Love these tiles! With one completed space I feel like we reached a major milestone. The comfort of having the actual bathroom made me wonder how could we live with the laundry/shower/toilet situation just a short while ago? I guess when you have a goal you are ready to make some temporary sacrifices. At the same time my husband's office also became ready to move into . This came just in time, as his temporary office was located in an unheated workshop on our property, and the temperatures started dipping close to freezing... And we were able to move into a new bedroom, which in the future will welcome guests. In this space the most important change was upgrading the floor. Although the wall to wall carpeting was fairly recent, we didn't want to live with it, and decided to invest in oak parquet flooring. This way the floor is a visual continuation of the corridor with its original oak floor. The color was carefully matched to be as close as possible. Left to right - before the restoration began, see the wall to wall carpet and grey walls... and the paint on the fireplace; the middle is work in progress; the right is a nearly finished stage, with the flooring installed but not stained the darker color yet As we moved to the newly finished bedroom, which is a temporary situation, we are again living among furniture, boxes, and clothes racks. But it is all good, as our own bedroom will be worked on soon, and I will finally have my own walk-in wardrobe, aka "dressing" as we call it in France, first time in my life. Can't wait! There is also a small toilet room upstairs now, because this house had only one before, downstairs. Imagine navigating to the loo in the middle of a night, down the stairs, across the main floor, to the laundry room, trying not to trip over anything... Anyway, this will not be happening now, as we have this proper loo on our bedroom floor now. And since I feel an importance to give small spaces a proper decor, especially a loo, which is often overlooked, this one is fitted with a beautiful wallpaper sourced from Antoinette Poisson, and brand new fixtures. I especially love the doll size wash basin. This room still needs some touch ups, but I love how it is shaping up. A vintage light and mirror are waiting to be installed :) With these developments, I am getting a taste of what a normal life looks like again. Clean walls, painted in light hues, and gentle colors. Refinished floors in natural materials - tomettes, wood, stone. I am also finally able to see my ideas, and vision, if you will, I had for this house. Bit by bit I am dusting off some boxes (the dust situation is serious! it gets everywhere and getting rid of it is a real pain in you know what). I am finding the wall lights that I collected overtime at various flea markets, little pieces of furnishings needed for little nooks here and there, area rugs. I will be happy to see things in their proper place, but I don't want to have every room in the house completely "done" right away. It will be a pleasure to add to the spaces over time, selecting art work for the walls, curtains, more furniture. Even with the house partially completed, partially in disarray I can feel that "homey" feeling. I can see that soon this house will be warmly welcoming family and friends, and will be the place that we will be truly able to call home. To be continued... XOXO Joanna

While we are waiting for the work on the house to be done, I am finding refuge in my garden. I look back to the time just a few months ago and I am happy with what I see. The work on the "potager" is continuing, with more garden beds being added, and the plants that were struggling in their previous spots were moved elsewhere where they have a chance to thrive. Although I was not able to garden for a stretch of close to 15 years, I jumped at the chance to make this piece of land into a garden of my dreams. On the first visit I really liked the house and its potential, but the garden was a proverbial "cherry on top". With an ample, gated "cour" in the front and some plantings there, to the vast walled space behind. A small creek in the back of the property sealed the deal. I knew that making this space into a garden would be a lot of work, but it was an almost blank slate and I couldn't wait to get my hands dirty. But before anything could happen, some time had to pass . One needs to see what grows and where, so one doesn't dig in the wrong spot and gets rid of existing plants unnecessarily. One also needs to know where the sunny and shady parts of the garden are throughout the seasons. We arrived at the beginning of December, so we missed the entire growing season and we had barely any idea what grows where. We had some pictures from previous visits, but that's about it. It was evident that while the previous owners were proud of their garden, there was little planning involved. The front of the property was already clearly defined with the gravel driveway and some mature plantings. However we had to identify the shrubs and other plants growing there, other than recognizing a rose bush, and a lavender plant everything else was a mystery. The back garden was also a mix of easily recognizable flowers and shrubs, but as the months went by it became evident that many of them were struggling because of the location there were planted in, or the lack of proper care. And just as it happened in my New York garden, where I tried to eliminate most of the lawn by converting it to a garden , I set out to the same here. Where most see a verdant green, I see the possibilities of a flower garden and a "potager". So in early winter last year I rolled up my sleeves, made a rough sketch of the property, subscribed to garden magazines, purchased some books, and began! Beginnings I had no garden tools, I didn't even know the French names for the tools! I was not a novice in gardening, but this scale was something completely new. Undaunted, and determined to have our own tomatoes in the summer, I mapped out the four squares of the garden beds in our future "potager". Silly me I thought I would dig the soil to prep the areas for planting. First I had to move a small fig tree that grew smack in the middle of everything and would do much better by a stone wall of the garden. Replanting it took me three days, because digging my friends is not for me. Digging is for a strong guy, and it would take an army of strong guys to dig up the surface of this garden. What to do? Permaculture and the "no dig" method became my friends. I already tried something like this successfully back in New York, and here it became an answer to creating new beds relatively painlessly. Almost painlessly for me (although it still requires some physical strength) and for the soil, because it does not get disturbed. We entered the growing season with 1.5 vegetable beds ready for planting! Gardening in winter is an entirely different game. I was outside nearly every day, trimming, cutting, observing. Even at zero degrees Celsius, when one keeps moving in the sunshine, it's a joy. I was measuring the time by listening for a bell at the mairie, which chimes every half hour. I loved the sharp fresh air and the aroma of woodsmoke. The approach of spring was marked by the increased decibels of birds singing. I even started liking the pigeons that live in the old church bell tower across the street. Most of the time they stay on the roof, but several times a day they all take a tour around the tower and our property in one big group. When that happens I like to stop what I am doing and look up at their care free flight. Spring The first surprise was the abundance of wild primroses covering the grass like a colorful carpet. The second one were tiny grape hyacinths and miniature daffodils that started coming up as early as February. Then other plants were saying 'hello" to us - a huge bleeding heart plant that I took for a peony at first, a clematis vine, a profusion of columbines. Various shrubs started to flower so finally we were able to identify them. We fell in love with the huge lilac on our property. The air smelled sweetly, the aromas of the lilac, clematis, and other blooming posies mixing and wafting around us. With these plants making their appearance I had to find out how to properly take care of them. Many needed a necessary "haircut" to help them thrive. As I was trimming and raking away the dead leaves, I was discovering that many plants were put in nooks and corners not very appropriate for them. The lack of light, space, nutrients contributed to the stunted growth, but they were there, maybe waiting for me to be helped? Gradually I moved a hydrangea and a rosemary bush to better locations. I was trying to rescue a camelia, but it will have to be seen next spring what happens with this little love. I was educating myself on how to trim roses which have gotten very leggy. My stack of gardening books and magazines was growing, and I started following many IG accounts of other gardeners for advice and inspiration. I still relied a lot on Barbara Damrosch "The Garden Primer" book, which I call "my bible". Jim laughs when I end a discussion we sometimes have of what goes where in the garden - "Barbara says" is the final word. Barbara also gave me permission (figuratively of course) to get rid of plants that I did not appreciate. Some of them were invasive, some were not in the color palette I would like. There were a few, planted probably for the ease of care, or their small size at first. I eradicated completely (but I am watching vigilantly!) the profusion of chinese lantern plants that were spreading like wild fire. Learning how to garden now is a far cry from when I was teaching myself these skills in New York, when the internet was non-existent and one ordered spring bulbs from a catalog. There are so many resources on-line, on social media*. On the other hand I do miss these colorful catalogues arriving in the middle of winter - does anyone here remember these? - and curling up with them, marking the pages, dreaming of the flowering borders... Summer In late spring we had one and a half potager beds ready to welcome veggie seeds and seedlings. Some grew, some didn't. The weather was rainy, the wetness encouraged various pests to come out and feed on what I planted. So no cucumbers and carrots this year! But we feasted on radishes, squash, and tomatoes. Eating a tomato that was just picked compares to nothing else. A bonus if you grew it yourself. So satisfying. The work we put in earlier in the season rewarded us with the embarrassing amounts of veggies! And pesto made from our own basil. I tried to save some for winter, but every batch was eaten down to the last morsel... The local knowledge of how to deal with the unwelcome garden guests came from the neighbours, along with some gifted tomato plants. I added more tools to our arsenal in the "atelier de jardin". I coped with the weeds, took many notes, and made plans for the next growing season. We set up a table and chairs for eating al fresco. Doesn't everything taste better this way? And every evening as I was watering the garden I breathed in the incomparable aroma - the scent of fresh herbs, the earth, the grass. Resting the eyes on the greenery of the plants. The fresh scent of mint as I walked through the courtyard (I left it here and there growing in the gravel so the scent can surprise us as we walked on it). Simple pleasures of a simpler life. The summer was coming to an end, which happens ever so gradually, but creeps up on you, and suddenly while still in August, you see the subtle signs of the approaching autumn. The cobwebs we walked through on our daily strolls, the ripe berries in the woods, the morning fog, all of it told us that nature was getting ready to slow down for the season. Autumn And here we are, almost full circle. Mild September gave way to a wet October and moody skies.The sunny days are few and far between. It is such a change from just a few weeks ago. Undaunted, I put on my work clothes, and go out into the garden. I literally dodge the raindrops to do as much work outside as possible before the colder weather sets in. As soon as I am out there, my spirits lift. I deadhead, trim, and weed. I want to have a few more blooms, I want to prep the beds for the spring season as weed free as possible. Later I will take our the wood chipper to make mulch and cover the areas around my plants to keep them cozy for the colder months. Two new hydrangea bushes joined an exiting one, which was moved to the from of the house. I am happy with how the perennials I planted in the summer are thriving. I must be doing something right! I just ordered a climbing rose, a classic Pierre de Ronsard. I am making more ambitious garden plans for next year! I am also dreaming of finally having a bathroom finished where I could soak my tired muscles after a busy afternoon gardening! This day will come, I know, and it will be sooo good! In the hills surrounding our village we see more and more yellow and orange colors. There is that glow to it all I love so much, but I also keep in mind how short lived it all is, and that soon in the autumn's strong winds, the leaves will give way to bare branches. Such is the cycle of life. With the noise and dust of the work in the house it is difficult to keep in mind what kind of life we are trying to live here. But it is what our goal is - to be in tune with the seasons. To be closer to nature. To live a more sustainable life. To be continued... XOXO Joanna *Here are some IG accounts I follow for inspiration and knowledge from around the world: @anya_thegarden_fairy @charles_dowding @thelaundrygarden @david_austin_roses @fmuytjens @gardeningtreasures @meadowsflowerfarm @jothompsongarden @olivialanguage @chateaumontfort @houseandgardenuk @sarahravensgarden @clarefostergardens @ crocus.co.uk @meillandrichardier

Restoration - bringing back to a former position or condition, reconstruction of the original form. Renovation - making to look like new. (Meriam Webster dictionary) It feels like it has been forever - living in one bedroom, waking up early before the workers arrive (because who wants to parade in front of some guys in a towel turban and a bathrobe?), doing involuntary gymnastics when cooking over a one burner electric stove. You can call it camping but I was never fond of camping, and even if charming, the fun of it wears off quickly. But enough of complaining. The work is progressing, even if at this stage the changes are not momentous. Slowly and meticulously layers of plaster are put on preparing the walls for painting. The cabinetry is getting prepped off site. The new bathroom is getting the necessary treatment before the shower is put in, floors are getting ordered and will be arriving soon...For my own benefit I divided the work into three parts - demolition, reconstruction, and "beautification". After the last stage, the decorating stage will arrive, which is very exciting to think about. According to this very unprofessional assessment we are in the middle part of this madness - reconstruction (yey!), and looking at how its various elements are approached, it is becoming clearer what our goal was - we are closer to the restoration idea (or "rehabilitation" as they say in French) that renovation. Which was always our intention, given our attitude and lifestyle. If you have been following me either here on my blog or on Instagram (@myfrenchmaison), you know by now that I am not a fan of renovating. New new new is not what I am drawn to. I love patina, and objects with some history. Timeless, classic, and to be kept and loved forever. The more authentic the features of a place or an object are, the better I feel about them. I recently read an Instagram post by @chinoiserieand chintz that spoke directly to my views - why buy an old house and change it completely, removing most or all, of its original features? If one likes modern, there are more contemporary buildings that will satisfy this aesthetic. When we were searching for a house we concentrated on the real estate over 100 years old. We wanted our home to have a soul - and maybe a ghost or two! (By the way - if there were ever any ghosts here they were scared off by all the noise and dust! In the beginning, right after we moved here, when I walked into a dark room, a couple of times I had a sensation of my hair raising on the back of my neck... but I chalk it up to my too vivid imagination). And we wanted the original fireplaces, beams, tomettes... You get the picture. If a house had a kitchen island, it was going to a reject pile. An open living floor plan - not for me. Having said that, I am a realist. Older houses have had a few owners, so changes were inevitably made. The shortage of older houses inventory in France happened after the pandemic. Many people decamped to the country side during the COVID crisis, and the "maisons du charme" suddenly became scarce. As far as the modifications in the houses' interiors it's the most recent change of hands that is most concerning - an old house purchased, and then the interior completely transformed into a modern cookie cutter uniformity. After seeing lots of IKEA fitted kitchens, I was disheartened. Same goes for many trendy additions - reproduction cement tiles, dark metal fixtures, etc.   So  this house where we are now, that we are making into our home, from the very start held a lot of promise. My philosophy of "if it ain't broken, keep it", extended to this project. We are keeping the old sinks, the bathtub, doors, etc etc. , in some cases moving them to a different area of the house where they might fit better (as it happened with some doors). This way we give another life to these objects, and also enjoy their better quality over what one may find nowadays. While some home owners are getting rid of older elements of their houses (not us!), there is a market for them. We had people pass by our open gate (it is almost always open now while the work is going on), asking to buy our old tomettes. Old terra cotta tiles, old parquet floors, faiance tiles, mantelpieces. These can be later found in salvage yards, flea markets, or online at Le Bon Coin, a French version of Craigslist. Some things are impossible to find, such as the paving stones that we have in our front courtyard and that we saved meticulously and reset after the said area was dug up to accommodate new pipes. You are right - we are not renovating, we are restoring. Or at least are very close to the spirit of restoration. It does not mean that we want to live by candlelight. But it means that we are not removing any walls, not reconfiguring the layout, we are making use of the existing spaces, adapting them, only adding a toilet room, a bathroom, and a closet upstairs. We are saving the original features and materials, we are upgrading the systems such as heating, plumbing, and electric. We are embracing the quirks - an odd entry way, a long corridor that everyone who sees it for the first time wants to get rid of, various this and thats. The changes that we did make happened because we felt that they would improve the natural flow - for example we decided to open up the passage from the entry way to the corridor and move the kitchen door to align with the entry to the dining room. While working on the said passage between the corridor and the entry way, we uncovered an original stonework around the doorway, so we scaled down the size of the work to keep this feature. There is a fine line and it is easy to cross it unknowingly - between getting things restored to the point that they are not warped, rotting, moldy, chipped, and function properly. And getting things renovated to the point that they lose their patina, character, soul. The restoration of our staircase may be a good example here. We chose to have the layers of old paint scraped away from the wooden and metal parts, but we decided to leave the steps alone. We like the traces of use, the patina they built up over the generations that lived here. We do not mind scrapes and scratches. To us, if we remove every trace of the house's history, buffing it away, painting it over, it will scream newness too much. I remember an article about an interior designer who, while their own house was being redone, instructed the workers to paint the corners of the rooms a little bit darker to mimic the accumulation of dust. Even if we think of this as being a little excessive, it is worthwhile to take time to think about making too many changes that might disrupt charm and character of the place. There are things that were changed and we cannot reasonably do anything about them. We do have double paned PVC windows and doors. The decision was made to let them be. While I am not in love with them, the original windows were single paned and leaked (there are two of them left so I know). There are also some PVC doors that are very recent - we will not be changing these in a foreseeable future. What will be changed is the front entry, where there is currently no door. We will have a nice wood door fitted there, where it probably was before years ago. Not everything needs to be revamped. Many times things just need to be freshened up a bit. Surrounding yourself with professionals that share your philosophy is ever important. Otherwise you will have to push back at every step. Our architect understands perfectly when I ask not to touch a wooden panel over a mantel, original to the house, with faded paint and cracked surface. I don't have to go into "why'. The tomettes in our bedroom will retain all the traces of lives past, adding to the patina of the space. This is our choice, and our home, and our decisions. At the end of it we expect to have a harmony of new and old here, preserving the character of the space, and re-gifting it "joie de vivre" by employing the thoughtful process of honoring the past while bringing in the necessary amenities of the 21st century. To be continued... xoxo Joanna

As I am writing this our first summer in Bourgogne is slowly fading. It is early September, we wake up to cold mornings, cobwebs in the garden, and the workers who arrive early to continue painting, drilling, and patching our house. This is our year of firsts, our big year of adjustments, ups and downs, adventures good and bad. Our life over the last six years has been one big discovery and transition - from the USA to France, and then from a big city to a tiny village in the middle of France - saying that this was a dramatic change would be an understatement! It's been almost a year since we signed the deed and were handed the keys to this house. Since then we pulled up our roots again and moved to this village, to the region we didn't really know very well. My dream has always been living in an old stone house. The most modern place we were in was in Seattle, the 1960s building with its cookie cutter apartments was fine for a while, but lacked enough character. Our New York house was built in the 1920s, oozed charm, with its wooden floors and crystal doorknobs. In Lyon we happened to live in two Haussmannian apartments, both of them with high ceilings, ornate fireplaces, and amazing hardwood floors. Now we are in this old house that dates from the late 18th century. Its thick stone walls offer coolness on hot summer days, and hold warmth in winter. It lived through some transformations, some of them not very flattering. But the original features it managed to retain charmed us, as well as the big walled garden. We knew it had potential, and as they say "good bones", even if it was livable but not comfortable, however we were going to put up with the quirks while we were awaiting the "travaux". The house had electricity (some of it dated to a hundred years ago with one outlet per room...), water, and the heating system in working order. And the region - we were taken by the forests, meadows, fields, wineries. The cleaner air, quieter life. So we were willing to put up with some inconveniences and put in some euros into making a life the way we imagined. We signed the closing papers at the end of September last year. You already know how our move from Lyon went. Although we started to live here full time at the beginning of December, we were gradually moving in our more fragile items through the fall. Our first Autumn and Winter (not as cozy as we hoped...) The stillness of the countryside in winter.... one has to experience it to understand its appeal. While autumns are dazzling with the brilliance of the golden leaves, crisp mornings turning into warm days, forests beckoning with the abundance of mushrooms. In spite of its many charms winter's stillness and frigidity scares many. A lot of people decamp to Paris, or other parts of France and Europe, keeping the residences here only for the warmer months. Nevertheless I was enchanted by the quiet of the season. The first time in my life I felt calm and stillness and I was really enjoying it. But there were other realities that were not as nice... We lived without central heat most of the winter... From the moment we arrived with the first moving boxes, we encountered problems with the heat. The thermostat read 13 degrees Celsius in the entry way (that's 55.4 Fahrenheit)... In November. We called the recommended "plombier" (plumber) who arrived the next day and informed us that our fuel tank is empty, although it wasn't supposed to be... Voila, the explanation for the lack of the heat. We scheduled the fuel delivery and we thought foolishly that we were set for the season. I don't want to go into the details, but our "plombier" became a frequent visitor. He is a lovely and competent man, and tolerates our silly French when we try to explain the vagaries of out "chaudiere" (heater). A couple of times we offered him coffee and cake, and spent a very nice time chatting about the village and the region. But even his expertise couldn't predict the unfortunate events, that caused us to live the rest of the winter without heat. We purchased two heaters, drank countless cups of hot tea, wore layers of Heattech underwear (by Uniqlo, I highly recommend), and slept under piles of blankets to keep us warm. Mandy the dog wore a coat indoors to keep her warm. I took up baking, the heat of the oven warmed up the kitchen for a couple of hours and we had a lovely cake to eat. Thinking about Peter Mayle's experiences in his book "A Year in Provence" made me feel about our miserable circumstances somewhat better. But it is always more real when you live it yourself, n'est-ce pas? If you read the above mentioned novel, or "Under the Tuscan Sun" by Frances Mayes, you may remember the mishaps and costly mistakes that were made. If you think this can't happen to you, the reality will differ... But life goes on - after the vagaries of the heating system we decided to install a heating pump (pompe a chaleur) - catchink! - so we should be more comfortable the next winter. But I am keeping my electric heater and a good supply of wood just in case! Spring and a side of Ups and Downs The birds knew it first. Shortly after, the garden started waking up. The carpet of primroses covered the grass at home and in the entire countryside. I started keeping a journal of already established plants in our garden. I was grateful for them, but I was also glad that much of this space is a "tabula rasa", a clean slate so to speak, ready to be re-imagined. I marked the outlines of our future "potager" excitedly anticipating having our own veggies in the future . Even with the markets offering fresh everything, the thrill of having your own tomatoes, herbs, and other veggies ripe and ready for your summer meals is worth all the work for me. Spring was also the time when we were developing the restoration plans with our architect. However uncomfortable the life in this old house was during this time, it was essential to getting to know what this house needs, to "feel" it, and take our time for it. One needs to live in the space for a few months to get to know it, so in a way the inconveniences we had endured so far were necessary. Same goes for the garden. One needs to observe how does the sunshine comes in, where do the shadows fall each season, how do we use the spaces. What are the quirks, and how do we live with them, or don't. You may think that you will want to move walls, but after a while you realize that they are there for a reason. The bedrooms are on the street side because later in the day the sun will shine on the other side of the house so the bedrooms will stay cool for the evening. The long corridor you thought is a wasted space is actually a necessary transitional space. Listen to the house. It was also the time for us to adjust to the rhythm of life here. We lost an easy access to city's conveniences. But with this loss came the gain of so many more things. We go to a weekly farmer's market in nearby Donzy or La Charite, we discover small producers in the area, we look for our neighbours' advice and find that the best is almost on our doorstep. Best fresh eggs can be found in our village bakery, a neighbour has his own apiary so we get honey directly from him. We took a few short trips here and there but we only just began to discover the richness of this region. Lyon remained a destination where we need to go to every few months. I don't miss living there but going over to the Puces du Canal is required for me whenever I am there. The restoration was scheduled to start mid June. But as it happens life had other plans. Mid June Mother Nature decided to dump inordinate amounts of water onto my region. The thunderstorm was violent, happened at night, and I slept right through it. In the morning as usual I headed downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and found myself with water up to my ankles. Like most of the village I woke up to a nasty surprise. Many houses were flooded, including ours. The flooding was not very significant, the few centimeters of water in the kitchen and hallway were easily mopped up. The situation was more serious in the workshop were we decided to store our boxes for the time of the restoration project... All of the floor was covered in mud, and the moisture soaked into the lower layer of the piles of boxes... My husband happened to be in the USA during this time. We briefly considered him coming back, but as it quickly turned out I wasn't left alone with this damp misery. My neighbour selflessly helped move the heaviest boxes, another one provided new ones and palettes which I placed on the floor of the workshop to protect the contents from a possible future damage. Everyone in the village pulled together to help each other. My architect came over to help move some things for me. I felt an immense sense of gratitude. I still think it could have been much worse. After the initial shock, and the assessment of damage, I decided to move the date of the start of our project by two weeks. Our First Summer in the Country So onwards and upwards.    Fast forward a few weeks, the restoration project started, we are living in one bedroom, and managing in a laundry room which is our kitchen, and bathroom.... These spaces will be the last to be worked on. At this moment the kitchen walls are stripped to the stone. the "razzle dazzle" floors are gone. So is the violent orange paint of the corridor. The updated electricity and plumbing are in. The old wallpaper is down, the new fresh plaster is up. Even in August, when all of France was on vacation, we had people working here. We are still at the stage when things are progressing relatively slowly. When we get to the point when the essential mechanic systems are in , and the cosmetic phase starts, then things will get more exciting. But even now our salon became an open airy room thanks to the old wall paper coming down and new plaster going up. Now it is the dining room's turn. I am not a summer person. I love transitional seasons, spring and fall. However this summer was the nicest one for me in a long time. Even with the three heatwaves we experienced, when the temperatures went up to way over 30 degrees Celsius (so around 90 Fahrenheit), these were short lived, and the thick stone walls of the house retained their coolness. I was comparing our weather to Lyon's and I was patting myself on the back. I still remembered the miserable summers we spent there. There was no escape from the relentless heat. Air conditioning is not a norm in France. We escape the noise and the dust in the garden. My husband set up a tiny office in one of the outbuildings, a workshop. We have to get creative getting our meals ready with a one burner hotplate. I lost access to most of my wardrobe, since it's stored in boxes and suitcases. But despite all of these (temporary) inconveniences we are delighting in living in this small burgundian village. We are meeting so many lovely people here and feel that we found a sense of community. As the only Americans here we can be easily found, and instead of giving our exact address we can say that our house is the one with all the "travaux". We met many neighbours, were invited to many meals, were treated to many a basket overflowing with garden lettuce, tomatoes, and what not. The good feeling of belonging meets us in the village shops, we don't have to give our proof of id when we pick up a package ta La Poste, or at the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. In such a small place saying "bonjour" to everyone you see on the street is expected. But even a 5 minute walk to the local "brasserie" can take longer when you meet a few people you know and with each one you need to exchange a few sentences. I love that! As we are sliding into an early fall, with the days getting cooler and rainier, I want to think that the work on the house is about half done... I miss my wardrobe and the kitchen. I am hoping for a warmer winter from the last one. I miss all the things that are stored in numerous boxes in the outbuildings and the attic. But I am planning the garden, and mentally arranging the art on the walls and the furniture in the rooms. To be continued... xoxo Joanna

It's been three weeks since the work on our house started. First came the demolition... I am in one bedroom crammed with furniture and other things, and a space next to it that will become a "dressing" (a walk-in closet), also crammed with things. A laundry room next to the kitchen, that now also holds a shower and a toilet, became a very spartan kitchen for the moment. These spaces will be the last to be worked on. The rest of the house is a war zone. The first week was most tiring. Although I didn't like what the most recent additions to the house have been, and I knew that these will be the subject of the demolition, I didn't expect that seeing my kitchen stripped to the bare minimum would be such a shock to the system. The exposed walls, stones and brick, trenches dug in floors to accommodate the pipes, holes between floors for the new bathroom canalization. Everything necessary and perfectly normal for anyone who does construction. To me it sort of felt - personal... Can't explain why. It just did. Bathtub, sinks, radiators - were all taken away to make room for what work needs to be done. So far there is water and electricity, although some days I am warned there will be pauses in their supplies. So far these were very temporary so we didn't have to go to a hotel. And taking a cold shower on a very hot day is hardly an inconvenience, right? Getting used to the disorganization of daily life was another thing. My dog seriously objects to being carried from one room to another. Can't allow her to roam freely when there is dust, some debris, and potential sharp objects to step on, or lick. We are slowly getting used to living with minimum, although I do miss access to all my clothes... and I miss the ease of preparing food, eating healthy is a challenge. Alors, these are the realities for the next few months. Some days I get cut off from the bedroom, or the laundry room (the only clean and livable spaces now) for hours, as the workers maybe working on a particular part of the house and it is just not practical to pass and interrupt them. Thankfully there is a garden. It is getting serious weeding now, finally I have time to work on it. The garden is the only space here that is free of dust, and is growing peacefully. A true oasis these days. The second week of the "travaux" was better - the ugly wallpaper was stripped away. The bare walls were revealed, somehow giving the spaces a fresh breath of air. I saw layers of old wall paper, covered in flowers, and the old plaster, in the prettiest pastel hues, pink and off white. I somehow wish it could be preserved, but I know that the cracks in the plaster need to be repaired, and it is going to be better to have everything painted a uniform color. So I take lots of pictures to document my house in transition. When the third week arrived electricity and plumbing were under way. The workers are trying to get done as much as possible before the long month of vacation starts. As I said previously - August is no joke, everyone takes time off. In our case, we know there will be someone working on our project although in a limited way. I am keeping my fingers crossed that in spite of this being August, we can keep moving forward with things. Slowly but surely we are advancing. The coordination of various teams is key, it is our architect's task to make sure of this part. As for me, I am keeping in mind that good things take time! To be continued... xoxo Joanna

Goodbye the "dernier cri" of vivid orange walls of the corridor! (was it the fashion statement of the 50s?). Farewell to the psychedelically patterned kitchen floor! Adieu to the grey paint on the antique tomettes! For the past few weeks our house has seen an almost constant procession of "artisans", who were assessing, evaluating, and bidding on various parts of our renovation project. Our rooms were slowly being emptied of personal possessions, as we were storing them in boxes, and putting the boxes away in the workshop and a garage. This phase was necessary, and since I was on pins and needles to finally have this project started, I had to remind myself how essential it is and important for the work that is being done - choosing the right "entreprise" for each part of the project, the right "artisans" with the sensitivity to work on old houses as ours. My little dog walked behind me with a concerned look on her face - "are we moving again?" her worried brown eyes seemed to be asking, as I pack more boxes and carry them out. No, my little Mandy, but it will be a crazy time for all of us, and I am sorry about it. I was absent on Instagram and on this blog, my mind and time were occupied with planning, responding to emails, and making decisions, decisions, and more decisions. At times I thought that my head couldn't be spinning any faster! To decompress I was weeding the garden. I always thought that weeding is one of the best meditation practices. As a bonus you get a patch of your garden free of weeds, and a satisfaction of unloading your brain. So I was doing a lot of it. I also managed to plant some vegetables, so now we have our own zucchini, lots of basil and other herbs, and there is hope for tomatoes as well. But I digress. A friend commented that my old house project seems romantic (especially because she is now watching "The Durrells in Corfu"). There is a romantic side to our life in rural France, and I do have a romantic soul. But there is also a realistic side to all of this. Everyone who lived through a project like this one knows what I am talking about. On the eve of the start of the "travaux" all the rooms are denuded of mostly everything. We chose to stay in the house, so we live in one bedroom, and we have the use of the only bathroom in the house, right next to the kitchen. Once another bedroom is finished, as well as a bathroom, we will move. This nomadic process in our own house will continue for a few months. But after that there is a promise of comfort. It is not my "first rodeo" of renovations, but I want it to be the last. After that I want to live in peace and quiet, grow my garden, "surround myself in beauty" paraphrasing Elsie de Wolfe. So what is this about bringing the old back, and taking out the new? Exactly what I said in the first paragraph. I want to bring back the old charm of this place, give it a chance to shine anew. Retain the patina, scrape away the unnecessary embellishments. We are reusing what we can, and what makes sense. We are repurposing all the old doors throughout the house, and while virtually all the walls need to be repainted, some older elements will remain untouched. The oakwood stairs will not be redone, we want to see all the traces of the past. It goes without saying that the old beams will remain uncovered, and the original tomettes on many floors will stay - in a couple of cases it is necessary to have the paint removed, and reset the wobbly tiles. We will uncover the beautiful stonework, and keep the old sinks and washbasins even if they have stains. So lucky that the old door to a bedroom can become a door to a closet, as it has the original handmade glass with the gorgeous unevenness you don't see anymore. So lovely that we are able to keep all the porcelain and mahogany door knobs from the end of 19th century. The amazing oak doors in the salon and salle a manger will be sanded and reinstalled, while the doors to a very tall cabinet will be come the kitchen doors. The contemporary textured wallpaper painted beige, beige, and more beige, with some aggressive turquoise will be stripped and calmer colors will be applied. The new materials will be more in tune with the age and style of the house. In my imagination I am hoping for uncovering some marvelous architectural details in this house, but I don't kid myself - if we find something amazing below the layers of plasterboard, it will be a cause for celebration. I know people find old tiles, old floor, beneath layers of modernity. If it happens I will dance! In the meantime on this last day of relative calm before the crew starts ripping down the layers of plasterboard and taking our rubble, I am sitting quietly and writing this blog post, but when you read it it we will be a few days into the project, running a bit frantic, or not, maybe waiting things out patiently. To be continued... xoxo Joanna

All of a sudden we are going into the next phase of planning - it's time to decide on colors, patterns, styles! It's all coming together, slowly, slowly, what our rooms will look like. Surprisingly making some of these decisions were very hard for me. There is a long way from inspirations and ideas to actually committing. The process requires patience (something I am not known for), testing things out, and making decisions, some of which are long term and not easily changed. I have to remind myself that this is the fun part of the renovations and I have to enjoy the process! FIRST CAME THE INSPIRATION My inspiration comes from all sorts of directions. Probably just like you, I fill numerous Pinterest boards with beautiful images of homes from around the world, in different styles, color schemes, from modern California homes, to thatched cottages in Cotswolds.  I am especially addicted to House & Garden, the English manor vibe is so close to my heart. I rip pages out of decorating magazines. I collect decorating books. I imagine myself living in these worlds. But one day the reality knocks and it's time to streamline and organize the ideas. Otherwise I would need a few houses to decorate in the styles I saved in my mood boards! Before this house was ours, I could let my imagination run wild, but now it was time to rein it in. It is hard - this wild imagination needs to be tamed! Inspiration for the kitchen - credits left to right @devolkitchens, unknown, and @devolkitchens* I can easily fall in love with moody and mysterious interiors, and the rooms full of pattern and saturated color, but I know that although I am drawn to this universe I have to recognize that I would never be comfortable in rooms full of primary color - for me it is less pattern, the colors more toned down. That being said I want to bring some pattern to some rooms - not to many rooms, and not on big surfaces, because in my opinion pattern in large quantities can become overwhelming. I have to do it thoughtfully and carefully. With the color I want to bring in more light, and an easy spirit mood to this house, the feeling of warmth, comfort, and elegance too. I want to create a peaceful and relaxed feeling of being finally home. With all this in mind I need to picture all our furniture, area rugs, art, etc, things we already own, in the rooms, taking into account how the rooms will function, their proportions, and how and who will be using them. How the house is situated also weighted on these decisions. Although it is in the middle of a small village, it sits within nature and is surrounded by a garden. So I wanted to continue this feeling of being close to plants, flowers, and birds, inside. This is what I love, timeless elegance with a dash of country ( via @elleihome , Trouvais via apartmenttherapy.com , hotelprovidenceparis.com , pinkwallpaper.blogspot.com @ @boulevard leopold indulgence on Flicker, joannamaclennan.com As time went by, and I have been looking at samples, color books, and prices (!), I narrowed down the ideas. As I mentioned before, living in this house for a few months, through a few seasons, different kind of weather, dictated what the house needs. THEN IDEAS TOOK SHAPE As I looked at the rooms in different seasons, in an early morning light, or at dusk, in all sorts of weather, I was asking myself - What story do we want to write in this house? Above all - what feels good to us? And how to keep it realistic? What atmosphere and feeling I want it to evoke? I didn't want to get caught up in a certain style, I wanted the space to reflect our life up to this point, with enough room to grow to reflect the life that we are creating here. I wanted a certain sophistication, but at the same time I wanted rooms for living. I want quality, but I don't want to be too precious about things. For me, everything needs to be used, chairs and sofas are to be sat on, pretty china is to be used every day, and if one chooses to walk to around with their shoes on, it's ok. Style wise I looked for timeless, not the latest trends, or "the color of the year". Fortunately I have had my favorite color palette for years, and I instinctively gravitate towards certain color combinations. White and blue is one of these obvious combinations, so classic, calming, and easy to work with. It comes in many patterns, and can be echoed through the decor of many rooms. I also love classic beiges and neutrals. I dress in a similar way, in monochrome, or patternless tops and bottoms, and accessorize with pattern and more color. But I was afraid that with all that beige I would disappear into the background - just kidding of course! But as I let myself guided by my habitual comfortable choices, yet trying not to get in the comfort zone of warm whites and beiges, there were unexpected discoveries - I truly surprised myself loving wallpaper so much that I made the decision to add it to three small rooms. I spent hours looking at options at countless companies, but when I saw the wallpaper at Antoinette Poisson it was a "coup de coeur". A small company based in Paris, inspired by the decorative arts of the 18th century, makes all their items by hand. I fell head over heels their "Canton" pattern, which inspired the change of style of my dressing furniture... There are two more patterns that I will want to use in the house. I ordered samples, they came with a personalized note and a beautifully presented history of the company. Just looking at them brought me so much joy! So as the time went by, and I put a lot of time and thought into this process (it takes work!), things are finally taking shape, and color. AND WE MAKE CHOICES Some choices were easy and a real no brainer. Others made my heart say YES, but my common sense was saying ARE YOU KIDDING? Such was the case of the wall color in our "salle à manger". I didn't want to have another neutral color room. After being intrigued by images of several "blue"rooms, I tried a lot of blue on pieces of paper, mixing acrylic paint from my paint box. After that I pinned them on walls around the room. They stayed there for a few days. I looked at them at different times, in different light, in sunshine, on a cloudy day. Progressively I took some pieces down. This is what remained: I am holding three shades of blue I love and that passed my "inspection". I was inspired by these rooms (left by Lucy William for House & Garden, photo Christopher Horwood, the right one is by @antoinettepoisson) I am still in progress of trying our various blue color samples, but the one that came closest is "Blue Ground" by Farrow&Ball. The blue patches are staying up on the dining room wall, so I can look at them in passing. So far I like what I see. The easier choices were the neutrals picked for the majority of the rooms. "White Tie" and "New White" along "Setting Plaster"were the clear winners. I ordered little cans of paint (the F&B paint samples come in the cutest little cans, it's a joy to dip into them and start marking the walls :) and tested the colors on the walls. They all passed the test :) I was pleasantly surprised by "Setting Plaster" - it will be lovely in our bathroom - not too girly pink, and not quite a neutral either. The two whites will work very well in various rooms. I am eyeing other neutrals, so I maybe ordering some more samples :) I will report what I have decided on! My love for the neutral palette is reflected in the selection of natural stone (which is the local limestone"pierre de Bourgogne") for the kitchen, laundry room, and the entryway, which our architect recommended, and I really love this idea. We live in the region, and the quarry from which the stone will come is almost next door to us. And of course wood was chosen for one of the bedrooms that needed a new floor really badly. The rest of the floors remain - they are original to the house and I love them. But before the walls can be painted, the floors installed, and all the furniture and lovely collections carefully arranged, we still have to start the renovation. The "behind the scenes" work, so important for this house - the plumbing, the electrical, the heating... - needs to be completed. During which the walls will be torn down, some rooms stripped to the minimum, and the important systems for the house installed. Nevertheless - let's enjoy the process :) Thank you for following me on this adventure. To be continued... xoxo Joanna *P.S. I want to give proper credit to the photos I chose for this article. If you find that I made a mistake please let me know and I will make corrections. Thank you!

From the moment I shared that we are moving to the country side, the reactions from family and friends ranged from "congratulations, how wonderful!", through bewilderment ("but you are not a country person"), dread, utter surprise, to "at your age?" (hmmm...what age is good, meaning "appropriate", to change your life?) And now that we are here, I am asked - how do you fill your days? "but there is nothing going on there!" and "where do you go shopping?". What on earth can you be doing all day??? I have never been worried about finding things to do. They always seemed to find me! Many women can relate, right? Especially when your life is full of projects, you have a house to renovate, and a garden to tend to. "Doing" has dominated our days since the beginning. But - after a few weeks here, seemingly imperceptibly, our life became more about "being". Slowly a shift occurred - we became more focused on what's around us. Life became less about rushing ahead, cramming as many things into a day as possible, "stealing" moments of quietude when they should have been just taken. In a life when the hours of the days are quieter, we have more opportunities to just "be". So even if for the outside world there may not be much going on here, there is plenty that can be enjoyed. I admit that if I were faced with moving to a small village in the country when I was younger, I would have considered it some kind of punishment. But ever since moving to France , experiencing life in a very touristy, crowded, big city for a few years, the desire to live a quieter, cleaner, slower paced life grew. Spending the pandemic and numerous lock downs in a city apartment enforced this idea. So when I finally found a new life in this village I sighed with relief. The first night we spent here I asked Jim "do you hear that?", to which he replied "what? I don't hear anything". "Exactly!". The silence in the night, the inky blackness of it (the street lights are turned off at 10 pm). The hours of the day measured by the chiming bells of the "mairie" (town hall). The church across the streets sounds its big bells three times a day, at 7am, noon, and 7 pm (calling for "petit déjeuner", "déjeuner", and "dîner" perhaps?). Granted we are still discovering what's around us. So the novelty of it all is still there. But with charming villages, wineries, markets around us we don't feel the pull of the city lights. The hours of the day gently slip by, filled with home tasks, work, tending to the garden, planning the renovation (it is starting imminently!). Living in a small place nowadays doesn't mean being cut off from life. There is high speed internet aka "fibre"! It seems that for every thing we gave up when we moved away from Lyon, we gained a few. Life has a different rhythm à la campagne. Call it "slow living" if you must. The French way of doing things, "prendre son temps" suits me well. It is absolutely worth to take time for what became a daily ritual to have an afternoon coffee together. Or to sit down with a cup of tea and have a long chat with a friend. Or to peruse garden magazines and books and give yourself to dream about your garden. But as Jim points out there are negative sides to living here too. Being further away from services and having to drive almost anywhere. This seems to be the only negative thing for me. On the flip side, how often do you need to access these services? The necessities are right here in the village. The post office, the pharmacy, the medical office, the bakery, a small grocery shop. I know that we are still new to all this, and the shiny newness may blind us to some drawbacks of this life. In the future I do plan to "escape" to a city if my soul needs some change of pace. Paris is only two hours away! For now the every day positives are outweighing everything else. There is nothing else that compares to going out to the garden in the morning and breathing in clear air. Right now, with our big lilac bush in full bloom, the air is filled with its aroma. With the weather getting warmer we have been eating outside more and more. My eyes feast on green, even in winter. The city life offers a lot - there are cultural events, numerous restaurants, bars, cafes. There is shopping! After our move we visited Lyon for four days. I was exhausted after two, and wanted to go home. Here I regenerate my spirit. So far so good! So what do you do all day? - my family and some friends ask. I wake up with the sun, pour myself a cup of hot coffee, and go out into the garden with my little dog. Oftentimes I take an early walk in the country side. I started cooking more, baking more. Slowly we get to know our neighbours. Some days we don't go anywhere at all. Now when the weather is warming up, we leave the doors open and lead our life mostly in the garden. There is time to savour - tastes, aromas, colours. There is time to just BE. Have you made a major change in your life? Share your experience in comments, it would be great to hear from you :) To be continued... xoxo Joanna

It took us a few weeks to move into our home in Burgundy, with the bulk of our possessions delivered by professional movers mid-November (see my last post if you're curious how moving is done in France). Some things we had to take care of ourselves. Our moving guy took one look at my collection of fragile "globes de mariée" and categorically refused to touch them. They would not survive... (btw, I swore it was my last move... I think it was my 8th or 9th one...). So we lived in Lyon for a couple more months after we received the keys to the house. I was musing over what I would change in it, what the garden should look like, what colors can be used in the rooms. I saved countless images on Pinterest. But after we actually started living in our house, it dictated its own wishes. It is true that one needs to live in the space for a while to see how the light falls, how the rooms are used, which rooms face the east, and which the west, and a myriad of other considerations. Same is true for the garden. They say to observe it for a year before changing anything. In my case, I plan to create a "potager" and a flower garden where the large areas of grass and weeds grow. The beginning of the "potager" has been started this year. As for the rest, I decided to give it indeed a year. I am still identifying shrubs, and plants that just began to grow and bloom this spring. When I clean around the bushes, trimming them, removing fallen branches, I am discovering old overgrown garden markers, outlines of old paths, that might have been there for a very long time, overgrown by grass and weeds. As well as other plants that got "lost" in between of overgrowth, and now can get more light and air, with the hope to help them thrive again. In February our lawn became covered with blooming primroses. So now I know that in order to save them from being dug up when we prepare the garden beds, I may want to replant them to other nooks and crannies of the garden. Over the months we've been here the house "told" us what it wants. It is over 200 years old, and evolved over the years, but retaining many original details and the main layout. Sitting in a small burgundian village, amid the fields, it is neither a cottage, nor a farmhouse. It maybe described as a "maison de maître", a bit "bourgeois", but not too formal either. The style is somewhat hard to define. It has some quirky details, some can be changed, some are there to stay, and we have to just start loving them. It is obvious that it was once a home for a prominent family in the village, given its size and the central location. At some point we would like to find out more about the history of this place. One can go to the archives, probably in Nevers, to look at old documents. I hope to make it a small project once I have a little bit more time on my hands... Although the house is proportionate and well laid out, there are some oddities here and there that can't be explained, or changed. For example, with generous proportions of the main rooms, the house has a curiously oddly shaped entrance. Was it like this originally? Maybe it was. We will make the best of it. Another thing to love is a long and narrow corridor leading from front to back of the house. Having been divided into two residences sometime in the 1950s, the only way to access the big garden in the back is through this corridor. It divides the kitchen from the "salle a manger" and the salon. Everyone, including us in the beginning, first considers it a waste of space. We were planning to remove its wall on the kitchen side. However after using it everyday we realized that without it all the dirt from the outside would end up in the kitchen. And we would lose a wall in the kitchen - a very valuable wall on which I would like to have floor to ceiling tall cabinets, where I can display my pottery collection. So the corridor stays. And we will need to love the other quirks. If we wanted everything just perfect, we would build a new house from the ground up. I always say if you want a new house don't buy an old one and try to change it. I am not saying you must live without electricity and canalization, but there is a reason to buying an old house. They don't make them like this anymore. Without the irreplaceable features and elements it becomes just another empty characterless box. This old house has a soul, which must be preserved. I refrained from showing a lot of pictures of the inside of the house (these will be coming soon, I promise!). The way it is now one needs some imagination to see the final result after all the work is done. One thing is certain - we both love old houses with character, and want to give this one back it's luminosity and warmth. One way to do it is to keep the elements in harmony with one another. In tandem with our architect we are working on the plans to make the house a comfortable place to live in the 21st century, while honoring its history and charm, and preserving its soul. We want to reuse as many details of the house as possible - this even includes a sink in the kitchen and all the beautiful early 20th century porcelain and ebony doorknobs. We are even thinking about re-using old doors we found in the attic, if they are in good condition. Irreplaceable charm of the old - the stone, the hues of wood, even the door handles I am waiting impatiently when the actual work will be scheduled. But as they say - measure twice and cut once! I would hate to agree to something of which I am uncertain just to change my mind later. Or be unsatisfied, and make a costly changes after that. But we are out of the "dreaming" stage, and onto the "planning" one, so we feel pretty good about this progress. With longer and warmer days it is a joy to be here, and we are learning more and more about this house. Next time I will be able to give you more details how things are progressing, and share some images of the inside - the plans are almost done! Thank you for following along. Questions and comments are welcome. To be continued... xoxo Joanna

We left off at the moment when we decided to buy our house. That was almost a year ago. As I mentioned, it takes a very long time to close on a real estate transaction in France. Especially when you encounter August... because absolutely nothing happens in the month of August. If you tried to do anything (other than going away) during this month, you know. I will digress - when we moved to France in 2018, we purchased a bed. We were told it will take about 6 weeks to be delivered. So far so good, we thought. We were still in our Air B&B we rented for our first weeks in Lyon, so in six weeks time our bed could be delivered to our more permanent rental apartment we have just found. We overlapped the two rentals to be sure we have a nicely furnished apartment to move into. How wrong we were! It took six weeks PLUS the month of August for the bed to come to us. We had to leave our temporary rental, and ended up sleeping on the floor (albeit a beautiful "parquet" hardwood floor) for over a week. We got a call that the delivery is ready on September 1st. Live and learn! Now back to where we left off. Summer of 2023 was a busy one. While the skies of Lyon were oozing heat at historic heights, I was arranging for movers estimates, searching for an English speaking notary who could help us with this real estate transaction, and calling around to find an architect willing to take on our renovation project. I will not go into the details of the French real estate transaction process unless asked. We did have an excellent bilingual notary, thanks to a friend who knows absolutely everyone in Lyon, and helped us out many times. Even if you think your French is very good, I strongly urge you to employ an English speaking notary, or have a bilingual friend help you out with all the documents and communication. We asked around for moving companies recommendations. Attention, we are entering another saga! In France, when you live in an apartment building on a higher floor, it is very common that your possessions enter and exit your apartment through a window. A big truck with a lift parks below, and all the furniture, boxes, etc. get transported to, or from your window. This is the way it worked when we moved in. Two years after our move-in the city of Lyon started transforming a lot of streets in the center of town into pedestrian only zones. The street below our windows was under way of becoming a no traffic zone... The "mairie" (town hall) categorically refused issuing a permit to park a truck in the street, or block it while we were moving. We were looking at extra costs to have our possessions moved by workers in a teeny tiny elevator and the narrow stairway of our building. At that time I narrowed my search down to two moving companies. The first one was more expensive, and the lady who visited to give us an estimate wore huge Dior glasses (kind of intimidating) and had a mannerism of a "gendarme". I was willing to forgive her bossing me around, but her estimate was almost double the estimate of the company we chose at the end. And she didn't seem to be able to tell us anything about how to go around the "no parking" situation. For her it was a "fait accompli", this is the way it is, she wouldn't try to help us fight "the city hall"! The movers we decided to hire were local (Fontaine Demenagement), and knew the city like the back of their hand. Their representative was professional, straightforward, and it looked like he knew what he was talking about. But the same problem remained - we still needed the permission of the "mairie" to block the street for the lift and the moving truck. The company rep was shaking his head. It looked hopeless. However I was not giving up. And neither did he! "Monsieur" - I asked him - "when we were moving in, all our possessions, including the furniture, came in through our window. The boxes can go out via stairs, but I doubt that my furniture would fit. Could you present it to the powers that be at the "mairie" in this way?". This argument seemed to work, and we got our permit, provided that we moved out on a Wednesday morning. This I could work with. Sometimes when you get a "no', you need to ask and ask again till you get to a "maybe", and then a "yes". You may remember that we were buying a house that needed renovations. Seriously. It was habitable, but it needed some work. In some areas the work was cosmetic, in some we were looking at the task of moving walls, installing canalization, putting down new flooring. We needed an architect. In France you don't have to hire an architect for every home improvement project. But we decided from the start that the only way for us would be to work with one. We needed someone specifically to be also a "maitre d'oeuvre", that is a project manager. One can hire an architect to draw the plans, and that's it, the rest is up to you. You can hire your own "equipe" (crew), or you can work on the project yourself. For a myriad of reasons this solution wouldn't be for us. We needed someone to help us with the project from A to Z. We needed a French speaking professional who could communicate with the crews, and represent our interests. We had a couple of names of architectural firms from a friend who recently finished renovating their house. But these firms were too far from our village. They recommended we look closer to where we were going to be. So not only I had to comb the web for someone closer to our zip code, but I needed to make sure that they specialize in what we were looking for. While speaking French of course! I spent many hours on the internet looking at websites, completed projects that would represent the aesthetics of the firm, calling around. After a few weeks (right before France shut down to go on vacation, see my digression regarding the month of August above), I managed to find two agencies who were interested in our house restoration project, and were willing to meet with us. August came, a sweaty summer in the city continued. We continued packing the boxes, getting things organized. The weeks of summer vacation slipped by - the vacation was for the rest of the world it seemed, but not for us. But finally the last week of the month came, bringing with it more open businesses, school kids coming back from vacation, the restaurants reopening, and tourists slowly leaving the city. The very hot summer was nearing an end. We were living surrounded by towers of boxes. Many evenings were spent with friends who were happy that we found a place to call home, but sad that we were leaving Lyon. Some of them couldn't understand why we were leaving the city life. Some of them were concerned. But mostly they tried to share our excitement for the chapter that we were just about to start. And finally having a home. Not a rental apartment, but a place that we could make our own. After over five years of living in France we still had boxes that were never unpacked. I haven't seen my art collection in years, Jim wanted to set up a woodworking workshop, I wanted to garden. Above all we yearned for some tranquility. If we wanted the city life, we would come to it. To be continued.... Thank you for following along! xoxo Joanna

Once you have bought (or fell in love with) your first ironstone piece, the obsession to collect it starts. Plates, sugar bowls, tureens... Chipped, stained, cracked... It doesn't matter how usable it is, the beauty of vintage and antique ironstone pieces becomes a lifetime "idée fixe". Those who caught the "bug" want their shelves filled with piles and piles of dreamy "terre de fer". The vintage ironstone pieces are all unique, and getting scarce as time goes by, but they are still one of the easiest way to add that French country flair to your home. What is ironstone? In brief, ironstone is porous earthenware, made of clay mixed with feldspar, patented in early 19th century by Charles James Mason in Staffordshire, England. It was developed in efforts to find a substitute for porcelain that could be mass-produced for the cheaper market. Needless to say, it was an immediate success, and ironstone blanks were decorated with transfer patterns or hand painting to imitate Chinese porcelain. What's in the name? There is no iron in ironstone. It was named for its durability. What to look for when you shop for ironstone, and how to recognize it? Weight - when you take a piece of ironstone in your hand, it will always feel heavy. The sides of the ironstone piece will be thick, unlike the piece made of porcelain. Ironstone is stoneware that has been produced to feature a thinner and more refined appearance. It often looks like porcelain, but is sturdier and more durable. It is also more opaque, and it can be bright white or creamy colored. Condition - when it ages, the glaze on ironstone pieces develops cracking, and some pieces start getting "tea stains" - these just add the charm and character! If you find a wonderful ironstone piece do not be deterred by a chip here and there. Many covetable antique dishes have lived, were used, and will have these signs of time. Makers mark - most, but not all, ironstone is marked with a stamp on the bottom that is printed, impressed or both. In France the ironstone pieces are often stamped "terre de fer" underneath. The leading names of the ironstone "manufacture" are (or were) Sarreguemines, Digoin, Longchamp, H B & Cie, St Amand & Hamage, Choissy le Roi, Salins, Boulenger, and more. Each one with their own distinct makers mark which has changed over the years. There are many online resources that will help you to identify the age of the piece just by the look of the stamp underneath. When you look for ironstone in France, you will see many faience pieces as well. Faience and ironstone are not the same (although often made by the same "manufacture"). Faience is earthenware glazed with a tin-based slip and often decorated with hand-painted motifs. Glaze is a liquid coating applied to ceramic ware before it is fired in the kiln. Ironstone (as we know) is a thick, heavy earthenware noted for its strength and white, porcelain-like appearance. You will also see some pieces stamped "porcelaine opaque", which improperly designates certain fine earthenware made from kaolin and feldspar. It also takes the name of half-porcelain. So - what to collect? Pitchers, platters, cake stands, compotes, tureens, cups, plates... All white, or adorned with transferware patterns. You can focus on just white, but why limit yourself. Mismatched motives look so beautiful together! Collect what your heart desires! How to care for your ironstone collection? I always recommend hand washing your ironstone pieces. Modern dishwashers have higher temperatures that many older pieces can withstand. To keep your lovely finds looking good, hand wash them, and dry with a soft towel. Don't use bleach, which can penetrate the glaze, dissolve it, eventually cause the clay to crumble and disintegrate. For ironstone aficionados every piece in their collection is special. There is often a story to how a piece was found. Once it is in your home, that's it, it stays forever! Do share with me your favorite pieces, I am curious what makes your "ironstone heart" sing. À bientôt! For the current selection of French vintage and antique ironstone at My French Maison boutique please click HERE.

The pandemic put a cruel twist on all our lives, so crying over not being able to travel and staying put in Lyon for months would be a selfish act. So I am not going to do that. I am going to do a happy dance that I was fortunate to take a few days in the beautiful Villeneuve-lez-Avignon! I have been a few times to Avignon, but this time I decided to stay and spend more time across the river Rhone, in Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon. I craved quiet, greenery, long walks in the narrow medieval streets... With Avignon nearby, it was easy to take a train from Lyon, which takes just about an hour and a half, and a bus from the station took me right to the tourist office in Villeneuve. From there, there were just a few steps to Le Cloitre du Couvent, a charming b&b where I booked a room for a couple nights. Let me invite you to a virtual stroll around Villeneuve Les Avignon - there is beauty on every corner in this charming little town. Next time you are in France, and your path will take you to Provence and Avignon, consider taking a detour here... The town dates back to the Middle Ages, and lies beneath the impressive, and imposing Fort St.-Andre. Another must see is the Chartreuse de Villeneuve convent, with its cloisters and an arts center. But even if you don't want to do the touristy things, just wandering around this gem of a little town is a delight. Don't forget to stop and notice the little details, look into gates, wander into passages, and let yourself be lost. Nothing is very far from a cafe or a restaurant here. I was lucky - the outdoor spaces are allowed to open again, so I was able to taste some delicious food, and refuel with cups of espresso. If you are in Villeneuve on a Saturday, the morning flea market is something not to be missed (that is, if you're into this kind of thing, but you probably are, since you're reading this blog!). The flea market is at the foot of the Fort St-Andre, and I am told it is spectacular. One day.... There is so much to see in such a small place - but no need to rush, it is OK to just wander around and be... I hope you will take a look across the Rhone when you are in Avignon and discover this charming place! You know I am hooked - and it is likely I will be back. - Joanna