12 March 2013

Storms, flowers, castles and eggs

Last week spring finally arrived. This week it's wandered off somewhere, but will hopefully find its way back soon. The gardeners have been let loose in Melle, however, and there are flowers everywhere! 

Whilst you may have cottoned on to the fact that I love summer and sun and warmth, I'm also a girl who likes her storms. It must have rubbed off from my dad who will get up in the middle of the night and stand by the window for half an hour if there's a storm. On Sunday there was suddenly a storm here, and the rumbles made the glasses in my kitchen clink. So I threw open the windows and watched the hail come down like I've never seen it, as the thundery sky passed by overhead. It made for some not bad photos if I may say so myself:

The other day I came home to find a LOCAL PAPER in my letter box. No clue why this is the first I've received, but I was intrigued as to what could possibly happpen in Melle to warrant writing a news article about. Turns out Melle is actually an exciting little place when you dig deep. I'm sure none of you care at all about the history of my dear little town, but I'm going to summarise the article anyway:

During the recent lime-tree felling and replanting exercise in the centre of Melle, an interesting discovery was made as the workers uncovered part of a wall that belonged to the old castle of Melle. Apparently this was the last part of the wall in the 'jigsaw' so to speak, but no one had been able to locate it. Until now. The chateau was built during the 11th and 12th centuries, and was composed of a motte-and-bailey, one or two curtain walls, and surrounded by a dry moat. Most of the building was left in ruin in 1577 after Henry III ordered the castle and the town's fortifications to be demolished during the Wars of Religion. As a result all that remains today are some of the ramparts, including the recently discovered 4.5m thick wall underneath the main town square.

An 17th century engraving of Melle with the castle on the right, by a Monsieur Chastillon, which I've stolen from the paper, muahaha.
Other than that, I've had a very uneventful week. Apart from agreeing to receive my first ever Couchsurfer who is going to be staying with me tomorrow night and other Wednesdays over the next few weeks. Yay to potentially having another French friend (who is relatively young at 25), with the added bonus being that she's a music teacher, and not just that but a clarinet teacher. How coincidental is that?! Hopefully she's nice and we can toot away together. 

Dinner time for me now. The pressure cooker is whistling away as if it may explode volcano-style any second now if I don't go and relieve the egg steaming away inside it. Yes, I've made the most amazing discovery of pressure cooking eggs when I want them hard-boiled for my salads. For some scientific reason this method of cooking puts a layer of air between the shell and the white, thus making them easy to peel, and I know no one else in the entire world universe is going to find this piece of culinary genious in the tiniest bit interesting, so I'll just go and enjoy my easy-peeling hard-boiled eggs with a smile on my face.

Bon appétit ;)

Fresh daffodils in front of an 11th century church....poetry right there

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