Francesco has written eloquently of gardening and I’m also enthusiastic about developing a garden scheme for our new property, but despite the desire, I may have a handicap. My mother - who had a green thumb that I did not inherit - once said (after a failed gardening experiment of mine) “Honey, I’m afraid you just don’t have empathy for plants. Here’s my advice: learn what you can grow and then grow lots of it.”
Any one for ivy?
We have been looking high and low for a book about ‘Perigordine’ architecture but, alas, no such book seems to exist. (We may have to write one.) We’ve traveled throughout France and believe that the traditional cottage/small house architecture of Perigord (aka Dordogne) is about the most charming to be found.
The high-pitched roofs have distinctive curves and are made of terra cotta tiles, slate, or sometimes wide flat stones stacked on top of one another. Tiles are ‘hung’ on thin wooden slats nailed horizontally to vertical ribs by means of small protuberances on the back that act as hooks. Weight keeps the tiles in place, although high wind, ice, and snow can displace them. Another problem is moss that tends to grow along the lower tiers – very pretty to be sure, but a trap for rainwater and a cause of leaks.
Three local contractors have inspected our roofs and all agree that reshuffling and cleaning the tiles must be done, undertaken in tandem with an upgrade of the insulation. (Rolls of fiberglass sandwiched between the tiles and interior plasterboard ceilings have broken loose of their fastenings and slipped down over the years.) We’re holding our breath for the cost.
Another distinct feature of Perigordine roofs are the small triangular ‘houteaux’ that protrude from the roofline - looking rather like someone’s shocked, raised eyebrows. The little apertures admit small amounts of light and air to upstairs living spaces and attics and we have a total of five ‘houteaux’ (and a dormer) on Les Ajoncs, and two more dormers on Les Genets with picturesque wooden dovecotes installed over each window.
As is the case at La Placette Haute almost all buildings in Perigord are made of local honey-colored stone, with smooth-cut blocks forming corner pilasters and window/door surrounds. Walls stretching between the decorative stonework are sheathed in rough, cream-colored plaster. Sometimes there are other fanciful stone carvings under the eaves, especially if the structure dates from the French Renaissance like the Chateau de Losse. The only ‘fancy’ exterior motif on either of our houses is a slight stone arch over the kitchen door of Les Ajoncs inscribed with the date ‘1800’. But inside each house we have fine ‘cantou’ fireplaces, stone sinks built into the walls, and at Les Ajoncs, a stone warming platform with a hollow space in which to place live coals.
We need to learn how to use a wood-fired bread oven because we have a ‘four au pain’ located in a small breezeway attached to Les Genets. It is rare to find an antique oven in good working order, with its brick-dome interior intact, and Francesco is attempting to recall exactly how Augusta – his family’s cook when he was a child - went about her weekly task of baking bread and sweet pastries in just such an oven. He believes this consumed most of her time on Mondays, and remembers being scolded for tearing off pieces and eating chunks of freshly baked bread – something he still does every time we buy baguettes in our local boulangerie.
We have left the apartment in Paris and are now in Dordogne and will have our closing later today. So the adventure truly begins...
No comments:
Post a Comment