Pinot, Bretzels, and Cathedrals

September 26th.

Heading into the last week of September already. I’ve been keeping track of the weeks of this year more than normal since I’m ticking off each weekly run and we’re approaching week 39 coming up. That’s three quarters of the way through 2021. 😮Does it feel like it?

The thing is, being in the northern hemisphere with tipsy-turvy seasons and our Christian holidays, we might be 39 weeks into 2021, but we’re only 4 weeks into the working year. Even now, 8 years passed, it’s still a bizarre idea to acclimatise to. And if you’re used to it, think about if from my Southern Hemisphere perspective where our summer holidays coincide with Christmas! Schools reopen for the start if the year in mid January. It has a nice pattern to it!

However, winter and summer aside, autumn and spring remain my favourite seasons- here in Europe much more than in SA as they really and truly provide an innate beauty.

I took this photo 2 weeks ago at Champ de Feu. It’s a mountain top point in the Vosges, which is the mountain range that runs through The French <department> of Alsace.

Translated, you would expect the name to evoke a war (apparently, where feu (fire) implies cannon shots). I discovered in actual fact that the name actually means Mountain of Fire and the fire implied is the colour of the trees that turn firey coloured in autumn. We were a little too early this year, but I’m going to try get a chance to head back later in October or November to see what it looks like.

October 7th.

The dark shadows bring forth nought but a weariness quite unexplained. How long would they stay? How dark would they be?  But between those long fingered shadows lay fields of gold. 
Amongst the patterns of decaying leaves the sun glistened her most majestic warmth. That arc of the morning bright altered the dawn darkness to clutch on to the colours of deep red and warm yellow, and coppery leaves from the darkened shadows.  
The sky holds fast onto the racing rain clouds, he wants that grey to hang on just a little longer, for a small victory against the light is still a victory.
Small victories all round: we win some and we lose some; the ones we lose always the hardest to bear. 
Take strength from the small gains, even if it’s watching the morning light cast off the nighttime shadows.

Thinking today about the many people who have lost loved ones this year due to mutating 🦠 and this incomprehensible day-to-day we find ourselves wading through.

Also, as you can imagine it’s October in the north and I’ll be on the hunt for autumn spam.

October 8th

I was a little surprised yesterday when a friend implied she was curious as to the “enigma of Gaenor”, like I keep things secreted away and private.

I feel it’s so far from the truth because I’m an open book and if you ask me anything, I’ll tell you a million tales of my of how I got to be here.

Like how much I would love to be that denim-clad tee-shirt wearing woman with not so subtle lipstick on, sitting at that pristine set table as the sun stretches her golden fingers over the nearby stables and onto the top steps as I sip on a glass of champagne while watching the local market sellers set up their barrows and sell their fresh produce.
And that that notion is just a dream, because as much as that appeals to me, I am actually too insecure to just do it.

But seriously, how serendipitous is this scene of the tables set in white linen on the steps of the city’s Opera House at day break?

October 14th.

Have you ever 
Spared a thought
For the life
Of the humble leaf?

For when they emerge,
Like a wee green embryo
Off the hardy old branch,
They need warmth and love.

Never alone,
They fight for space,
A jostle for sunlight 
And rain. 

They unfurl and spread,
They too nourish,
And all too soon,
Their beauty fades. 

Cracked, dull, brittle,
And with a puff 
Of a summer wind,
So they tumble to the Earth. 

They tumble,
They scatter,
They fall,
They lie alone. 

Yet they lie alone 
Among other fallen souls. 
Never far from those 
With whom they jostled and fought with. 

————————————

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

(I’ve been holding onto this image for time to write a little randomness. For what else is there to say a loud fallen leaves?)
- also, taking full appreciation for properly running trams a few weeks ago. 

October 16th

Holding on to autumn for just a little bit longer.

🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂

October 20th

At this rate, I’m going to have to set an appointment on my calendar to take photos of my kids because between #autumnspam pics and Strasbourg City pics, my grid is lacking in something personal.

So here’s a nod from Thandi, in a playful mood yesterday afternoon.

She’s currently sitting at my kitchen terrace table whining because I’m not in bed. She quite enjoys a morning in bed with a warm body. Don’t we all?

October 23rd

Exciting news for this little family as the vestiges of autumn fade into another memory!

Would you like to guess what it is?

So, 🦠19-Times appear to be so 2020/2021 as borders are open for relatively easy travel. News from many others have exclaimed happy news of flights booked, open tourism and a chance to reunite with family.

Have you ever thought about that era of bygone times when travel and expatriate lives weren’t a thing, and how they didn’t ever imagine not seeing loved ones for more than 3 years?

This week marks the 3 year occasion of Famille duPlessis not being on that deep African soil where the sun burns bright and the storm clouds make you shiver in anticipation.
That’s 3 years since I last saw my Dad, my brother, my sister and the cherished bodies that share their lives. 3 years that our girls have last touched the cheek of their aunties in familiar affection.

While we still have another 9 months before we can cling onto every body with aching tenderness in South Africa, I am very excited to say that the Wandering Farmer is heading back to Europe.
Albeit with less heaviness on his shoulders. This time he comes with his SoulMate and will spend 3 weeks indulging the days of our girls with long walks in the city and mountains or forest.
Tickets are booked and the steps to accrue a visa are well under way.

At which point do we start to count down the days?

October 25th

Birthday week 2021.

I had a bit of a low maintenance party on the weekend, mostly to bring my friends all together for an evening and used my birthday as an excuse for it.

I’m the person that loves embracing birthday celebrations. It’s the one day of the year that is mine. For me. About me. (And my younger kid, let it be admitted). And I milk it for everything it’s worth.

Not everyone shares the same sentiment. My hubby, my sister, a few friends- they’re all about low key birthdays. So for a while this year, I questioned my desire to celebrate- is it vainglorious to bring attention to myself?

But then again, we’ve learnt in this era that we’re allowed Me Days, Self Care Days, and that our mental health is equally as important as a strong heart and sturdy body.
And if my motivation for celebrating this amazing life is by bringing together everyone that I hold dear, then a birthday party is where it’s at.

Of course I took the actual birthday off work, and with kids home for holidays, hubby on a day off and a happy smiling sun, I had a thoroughly enjoyable day. Late afternoon we went off for a walk with Thandi…after a busy weekend we hadn’t spent a lot of time with her so she was most happy to head out for a long walk with all of us together.

The suns’ evening fingertips stretched long golden strips through the glade and I wished I had had my DSLR camera at hand to capture the bliss. But as a good friend once said- the best camera is the one in your hand so here’s a little tribute to favourite sun hours, favourite children, and deep gratitude to every wonderful person who has made me feel special this year. Between appearances at Irish pubs, gifts and spoils, love from hubby and kids, phone calls, FaceTimes calls visits, cakes and champagne, I am honoured to have you all in my life.

And here’s to another 4 seasons ahead.

October 30th

2021 be like:

Winter: ❄️💨⛄️” here’s some snow and frozen pond for you. You’re welcome!”

Spring: 🌱🌷“let me indulge you with some Beaut blossoms but mediocre sun, ‘cos I can’t bring the sun any closer. I’s ok?”

Summer: 🌳🌹 ”nah. Not feeling it this year. I’m sick with 🦠. Sorry.”

Autumn: 🍁🍄 ”20/09-hello equinox, my love. Clock change- howzit bru! Let me bedazzle you with golden leaves, and start with my death into winter!”

Summer 🌹🌳: ”hold my beer, Autumn🍁 🍺“. 

October 31st

Finishing up this month with a little Halloween rant

I am notoriously Scrooge -like when it comes to Halloween. Growing up on a farm in a country where censorship was rife and Christian values old fashioned, we definitely didn’t embrace the culture of celebrating Halloween.

In fact, I’ve heard an opinion that it’s quite evil 😈

Cue my arrival in France and the Christian public holiday following Halloween is discovered: November 1st is All Saints Day. And October 31st- Old Hallows Eve.
Thus, the correlation of raising souls on the Eve of All Saints Day makes more sense, and it’s not actually a celebration of all things evil.

Still, I’m not about to change my celebrations because social media is full of it and as a result my poor kids have been at the end of several wrathful rantings that I am not going to buy costumes for dress up just because it’s 31st October and everyone else is dressing up.

Neither am I about to send them begging in the neighbourhood for sweets. They get plenty of candy in our house everyday.

I will say though, that so many symbolic images of Halloween would have come about at the weather typically experienced in the darker northern countries: we’ve had a week of misty mornings, where the dew hangs listlessly on the spiderwebs, and birds would be heading out on migration patterns. The mornings stay dark late, and there is a general malaise about the air.

Happily, clocks change today so we get more morning light.

Party in the house at my work tonight- it would be awful of me to dress up to join the atmosphere after I’ve told my kids we don’t celebrate. Besides which- there’s no safety features to cheap nylon witches clothing is there?

But most of all, don’t mind my Scrooge-ness. Enjoy your celebrations!

November 7th

Honestly, why I let my head get wrapped into this warp I don’t know.

From assumptions of over sharing and soliciting a fake life or a carefully cultivated feed to generate the notion that everything is grand (but possibly not) to a cry for help, it’s taken the pages of a book (post to follow) to make me realise #fuckit.

The thing is, I know.

I know how toxic this space is. I know how guilty I am of glibly seeking out those teeny little acknowledgments of a ♥️. Of trying to be noticed. Of trying to one-up my neighbour with adored content of this rather magical, photographic french city.

And to what end though?

Meh.

So then, when I share the good times with golden sunsets and playful puppies and children not sitting with their noses buried in devices, their arses glued to the couch, of the joy I get in my kitchen and my attempt to run every week, I’m sharing the shit that makes me genuinely happy.

Because a random early morning selfie with sleep caked in my eyelashes and a tight hamstring from being on my feet for 6 hours after getting home from work past 11pm and having to wake up at 6 with the birds is not desired content. Nobody likes 👍🏼 an ingrate.

A week (only a week) of reflection, and I’ve missed the opportunity to catch up with some friends here.

Yes yes, I have real life friends that I lunch with. Friends that I send WhatsApp messages to, telling them I miss their voices, but I also have friends who I have made on this space. And just because I’ve never actually held their hand or hugged them goodbye, doesn’t mean they’re not friends.

I’m 44 years old. Really, the only person I should have to answer to is myself. And do I like myself? Yeah, I do.

And just because I have such lovely pics of my smiley (teenagers) and a palette of concealer on my skin, here you are. The duPlessis girls, heading into winter.

♥️♥️♥️

November 11th

Place de la République, Strasbourg.

The last of the Gingko’s lighting up behind the monument to the dead, today hosting the annual memorial for Armistice Day.

A public holiday, Armistice Day in France, a day of remembrance in Great Britain and her colonies, it’s a day to honour the thousands that died in the trenches of the First World War.

This particular monument rests amid Magnolia trees and Gingko’s, on a beautifully maintained square in the ‘newer’ part of Strasbourg. Newer in that the buildings are all of the Prussian empirical dynasty (in other words- when the Germans were the rulers of this border town city in the 1800’s.)

Forgive me if I’m minimising historical accounts. Something that I fully appreciate of this little city is it’s proximity to Germany. With that comes a cultural balance more unique, history that may be less biased, and a greater consideration to our origins.

When it comes to war, there are victors only of the power hungry. For the others who are simply there to do their bidding, many a mother has lost a child. This monument is not a symbol to the Unknown Soldier as can be found below The Arc de Triomphe in Paris, but it is of a mother embracing her deceased sons- in this instance, one is German, the other is French- the history of this border town.

There will be a military ceremony held here at 11am. For it was at the 11th hour, on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918 that the treaty to end WW1 was signed.

Was that treaty partially responsible for events leading to WW2? It’s not a unarguable point. But it’s not a point for discussion today.

Today we honour the soldiers that fought and died in the mucky soil of the French and Belgian countryside. Thousands left with mustard gas burning through their lungs. Thousands left wrapped up in a tangle of barbed wire, and yet war after war has not made death any less macabre.

Sigh. Didn’t end up as poignantly as I hoped there did I?

November 17th

Dottie and The Bandit were off on a mountain-side journey for a weekend of nuptials, exploration and French wine before the final few weeks of murder and mayhem settled them at the coal-face.

Just what lies in store for Dottie from then on, only she knows- certainly change is in the winds.

November 16th

Here’s me, on Sunday morning, before the realisation that one major part of my day to day life is about to be flipped upside down, and now I find myself wondering if I’m going to get around to Christmas baking, card writing, side-hustle jobs and evenings on the couch from next week onwards.

Elements of doubt creep in when I lack the conviction that I should naturally have.

Instead, I find myself still seeking out a greater balance between work and play at this age.

I’ll be taking up more responsibilities at my place of work from next weekend onwards. Call it ‘head chef’ stuff.

Meanwhile, all I can think about is the various calendar appearances I have: family day at Europa Park early in the new month, ladies night dinner I’ve got planned for mid-December. My Dad and Sheila coming for 3 weeks. My gynae appointments, the kids dentist appointments- all of which need to be scheduled 3 months in advance here. I have passport admin to do and realise with annoyance, I still don’t have a valid drivers licence. Where had my off time gone to?

And then- let me not forget my lovely customers looking for Hot Cross Buns next Easter, crumpets for the holiday, and maybe I should be tackling Christmas Mince Pies for December? But I just can’t see my way through it right now.

Yeah. I’m a little stressed. If feels like major changes are heading my way. Inevitably though, things will iron themselves out without much effort.
Or so I hope.
Perhaps I need to force a ban on social media for a bit.
If I’m absent here from next week, you know where to find me, xxx

Or maybe I will still share billions of Christmas in Strasbourg Stories. Are you keen?

(PS. Thank you to my Lex for this cute pic.)

November 17th

Picturesque Kaysersberg. I am so chuffed that we could take some family pictures here (before the influx of visitors).
Sorry for the Kaysersberg spam, but I can’t stop returning to these ones!

November 20th

So much excitement for me this morning on my way to work, when I got into town to discover the clouds had lifted and the 130 year old Gingko’s were bathed in a brilliant morning sun!

What a glow up! (and thanks social media for that word. Didn’t think I would ever use it 😋)

On Place de la Republique (since we’re French) or Kaiser Platz if you consider this square was installed when Kaiser Wilhelm the Something-th was overseeing life here, the Japanese emperor gifted him with these Gingko’s- in the late 1800’s. That makes these at least 130 year old trees’. Don’t you love that?

November 26th

2 weeks ago I was taken aback when the resignation of my colleague was sprung, and I was unceremoniously appointed in his position as Chef de Cuisine at the Irish pub where I have worked for 4 years.

Terrified of failure and realising very quickly that my evenings were about to be flipped, I was not in the best head space for a few days.

Why I thought I would fail remains an unanswered question.
8 years ago when we left SA, I was running kitchens. I was managing staff and ordering food and creating menus.
It’s a bicycle ride though. Impossible to forget. Impossible to fail, barre the language barrier, but I get by.

The 6 evenings of work is the bigger challenge. It’s really hard being away from my family.
But they’re bigger now. They’re a little more self reliant, are able to take a certain amount of responsibility and should be able to appreciate the small things.

God, I miss them so much, all 4 of my girls, but it’s giving me the opportunity to really connect when we’re together (at least, it will when we have adjusted to the new schedule).

Just as we step into this new routine, today we receive the news that fucking viruses are about to ruin life again.

We have been looking forward to my Dad and Sheila coming over here for a Christmas. I have mentioned how it’s been 3 years since we were able to touch each other, to embrace, to feel their hands on ours, that we have been counting the days till their arrival.

The day that Dad applied for his visa coincided with the news that a new c***d variant has been isolated in my homeland.
All hell has broken loose, and all of a sudden we’re stuck with not just red- zone countries, but entire bans of flying to Europe from South Africa.

We still don’t know what’s going to happen in the next week.

But how do you bounce back from this disappointment ?

We just do. We put one foot in front of the other, we adjust plans, we embrace the ‘for now’, make memories to take forward, because if we’ve learnt nothing else over the last 22 months except that your plans will change, we should be used to this by now.

New traditions for us girls: hot Christmas drinks after school. Thanks Beth for the photo 🥰🥰

Following, I’m including some content from my culinary Instagram- not for the recipes, because only haven’t had much time for those but take time to pause and reflect I guess.

October 20th

It’s easy to look at an object and draw reflections from it. 
It’s just as easy to see one one aspect, or a different aspect. 

For example, I am so happy to see Lucie is thriving again after a few unproductive weeks. She gurgled and sang all night long and woke up to see a beautiful array of smiling eyes this morning. 
I told myself “it just goes to show what the affect of love and attention can have on any living thing” 
Because 2 weeks ago I had failed to feed her on a proper schedule, she had grown a pink shell and was quite unresponsive for a week after. It took that long for her to achieve singing status again. 
Every day, she needed to be fed and attended to- she didn’t deal with neglect for 2 days. 

Aren’t we all like that in life? 
Food and nourishment, care and love is how we profit from life. 

But then, I also can’t help but wonder this:
Don’t we all need a break from working every now and then? 
It’s okay to shed a protective shell, escape into a place of hibernation and just be still. Because we can survive. We’re hardy and we can still be quiet and still for a bit. 

Lucie is coming of age this month- can you believe it? It’s been a year of challenging discoveries. And fun! I’m really glad I persevered with her. 

What creative outlet do you have that doesn’t leave you under pressure to fulfil something? Do you try to bring elements into your week?

November 15th

I was living in London circa 2001/2002 when the tell-all book “Kitchen Confidential” was released.

As a young chef (in my early to mid-twenties) in London at the time, it took a place of significance in my life.

Certainly- up until my days in London, my experience as a chef in South African bush lodges definitely didn’t show me the lifestyle of the chefs that Anthony Bourdain wrote about.

The book was an eye-opener for people. Was that really went on behind the scenes?
Well, he wouldn’t have written it if he hadn’t experienced it right?

The man went on to make himself a name as a celebrity across the world. TV appearances, his own travel shows which showcased eating like a local (which fully appeals to me) and was somewhat of an iconic legend in the world of food, tv, travel.

That he suffered from depression and couldn’t see through the quagmire – is this something of a trait to so many incredibly talented people across the ages, is this general sense of darkness aligned with high level talent what makes a highly effective ‘artist’?

Anthony Bourdain slept his last night on this earth in this hotel in a small French village. It is also home to a restaurant that has 2 Michelin stars and an Alscaienne Winstub.

While this is not a noble profession, the industry is as old as time. Be it feeding the warlords, the kings, the sailors, children, the poorly, the explorers- the industry has evolved.

It comes with highs and lows, stress and pride, difficulty and ease.

However; coming to a point where job satisfaction is possible?

Like so much in life, trying to find a balance of positives and the ‘not so easy’ stuff- what do you weigh up?

November 17th.

Gorgeous Foodie Friends,

I’m inclined to alert you to changes that you might encounter on this account.

Already in decline, my food posts are going to drop off even further (or lose impact, perhaps,) as I commit to a heavier (paid job) work load.

If I am able to post recipes or meal suggestions here, they will either be pub related work or a craggy attempt to feed a hearty meal to my family between shifts. (Which is seriously giving me more stress than I should allow.)

My attempt at ‘styled pictures’ will in all likelihood stop 😢

Making meals in advance in short intervals may become another skill I’ll add to my base. For example, this is a Beef Shin Ragout that popped in the oven in my time between shifts yesterday. I continued early this morning before heading to work, and was able to finish it off between shifts today. I can’t do this often- it’s exhausting thinking I’ll be crashing around time this.

This is a Beef Shin and Vegetable Pot. Beef shin, cooked in a cast iron pot (or InstaPot i suppose) is a incredibly forgivable if you’re not looking for a last minute meal, and it brings a great flavour to a warm winter dish. It’s a cheaper cut and accompanies very nicely with additions like beans and barley to extend the protein. It can be a meal on its own, or serve it with bread, mash, rice- whichever is your favourite.

With a base of onions, carrots, celery, tomatoes, garlic, oregano and water red wine, I finished it off with more carrots, potatoes, barley, green beans and courgettes.

If you know the story of Stone Soup, you’ll know how this pot developed.

Do you know the Stone Soup story?

On that rather lengthy note, a collection of my various social media posts since September, I bid you adieu so that I can dress for a cold wet run- the 51st run if the year. Honestly, my body is somewhat aching from work, age, unsuitable walking shoes- none of the above or all of them. But goals have been set- one run per week of 2021, so let me not fail so close to the end 😉

Also, it appears that recently discovered mutated viruses have not necessarily blocked travel from SA, so maybe with a prayer and dance ritual, we’ll get to see Dad and Sheila in 3 weeks.

Sending you all my love,

Me.

Xxx