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Let’s begin : )

Aletheax

Here in France, it’s full ‘rentree’ vibes at the moment with the start of the new school year, end of the fabled August vacances and an unmistakable back to reality feel in the air – all compounded by a government in turmoil and the likelihood of more strikes and protests 🤦‍♀ Summer is well and truly over!

I’ve just returned from visiting my Dad in Greece. Always an invigorating change of colour palette – there’s something so calming about those Greek blues. While I was away, there’s been some rain (at last, hurrah) and the green of the countryside is re-emerging after months of parched brown.  

September is one of my favourite months here, still warm but not too hot, with beautiful light and the first hints of seasonal change. I’ve always thought September makes a better new year than January, it feels fresh and full of momentum.

Meanwhile, on the dog-walking front, Romy has developed a new comedy routine. She’s become utterly obsessed by blackberries (I blame my sister J! 😂) and every bush within reach has been stripped – by the dog!

And for those who missed it, I finally did a little carousel summary of floor-saga.

La Petite Maison is available for Autumn vacation rentals until the end of October 2025. Between November and March, it is available for longer term rentals by direct arrangement - so if you or someone you know is house-hunting, needs some peace to write or fancies a few week’s quiet - do get in touch via this email : )

September 2021

Headstrong, mischievous, and determined to do things her own way, I decide the best way to help ten-month-old Miss Romy (and me!) adjust to the French side of our half and half life is to join Club Canin, the local puppy school.

Every Sunday, it’s a cheerful mix of obedience training, agility and a group walk. Coming from the buzzing dog-social scene of Den Haag, I’d worried Romy might miss out while we were in France. Our first session was a success. Romy aced the obedience training, and we both made new friends.

The club sits within the recreation area, our village Stade, which also hosts a football pitch, hundreds of pétanque courts (ok, maybe 15) and plenty of other local activities.

The following week, we were back to quite a different scene. Club Canin carried on to the left, but there was different kind of canine activity on the right: the chasse. I’d heard plenty about this infamous rural tradition but hadn’t yet seen it in action. Our second Sunday coincided with the opening of the new season. Sharing the clubhouse with the pétanque club, the Stade serves as the chasse rendez-vous point.

Men in bright orange camouflage milled around a variety of the ubiquitous white Citroen and Renault vans, and heavier off-road vehicles. A chorus of baying hounds provided the soundtrack.

While not a fan of hunting myself, I knew it was woven into the fabric of rural French life. Like every newcomer, I’d already been warned what to watch out for on winter weekends: stick to the roads, keep your dog on a lead, invest in a canine gilet-jaune (fluorescent yellow jacket), wear bright colours and watch out for some crazy driving, particularly post lunch and red wine. Accidents, sometimes fatal, happen frequently every year.

I also knew from my predecessor that the chasse would hunt across my property, and although rules forbid any shots within 50m of buildings, I was particularly nervous about Romy’s safety in her own domaine.

So I seized the moment for an introduction and marched over to the men with a flurry of bonjours. Eventually, a slightly younger man was willing to chat beyond the greeting. My accented French drew a few stares, but I pressed on, all smiles, explaining where I now lived and, most importantly, presenting Romy with a laugh: “And this is Romy – not a sanglier! Haha!” That helped break the ice. I made sure to repeat the point, more seriously this time: this is the dog who now lives at Les P, she might resemble a wild boar from a distance, but please, be careful, don’t mistakenly shoot her.

I returned to Club Canin with reassurances in hand. And now, whenever the chasse passes the property, I get waves and bonjours.

Chien gilet-jaune

The chien gilet-jaune is a Winter weekend essential. However, I have a dog that’s more than a little resistant to sporting any form of ‘dog-clothes’. One ill-fated attempt to buy her a doggie rain jacket for the endless variety of Dutch rain resulted in a mid-store teenage tantrum until the offending item was removed. The jacket was hastily removed, but Romy made sure I got the message with a day of sulks and truculent behaviour. Definitely not a chihuahua! 

So, I knew the chien gilet-jaune would be a battle. Craftily, I waited until we were out in the field for her first fitting, hopeful of sniff distraction. No such luck. As soon as the velcro was fastened, Romy lay down and point-blank refused to move. The sulk had begun. 

Still, chasse safety trumps Dutch rain so I persevered and walked ahead. Subtle backward glances confirmed the same sight every time: Romy, steadfast, immobile, head buried in the grass. Surely, she’d get bored soon? Forty-five minutes later, I’d circled the field only able to spot the recalcitrant dog in the distance by the neon beacon of her gilet-jaune glowing in the winter light. 

It remains an annual battle of wills: me and the gilet-jaune versus Romy and her strong sartorial views!

December  2021

One hound appears just below the terrace, others circle the pool, and more fan out into the meadow. Romy’s barks join the cacophony. Shots ring out, followed by a frenzy of noise, and then abruptly, it’s over. The vehicles are now in my field. Game over it seems. I am not happy.

That’s the moment I decide I’m fencing the whole property as soon as I’m able. I’d been prevaricating, not wanting to be that etranger who fences everything off and disrupts traditional hunting routes. But this was too close.

Later, I sought out my neighbour JJ, a former head of the chasse to gauge whether fencing and requesting my property be a hunting free zone would cause bad blood. His reassurances were a relief: they’d understand it wasn’t out of spite but simply for my dog’s safety. I started gathering quotes.

In March 2022, while back in Den Haag, I was delighted to receive images of the fencing going in around Les P. Acacia fence posts and sheep wire, hideously expensive for something so rustic, but the rocky ground demanded machines as well as muscle. Installing fencing along both lane borders was a start, the obvious access to the property was secured.

The remainder of the fencing - through the woods and along the bottom meadow - was completed in January 2024, complete with hefty farm gates for tractor access. Only one weak spot remained, the abri entrance behind the grange.

February 2024 

We were just wrapping up our Club Canin group walk when my phone rang. Surprised to see my neighbour’s number pop-up early on a Sunday morning, I answered.

No pleasantries. It was straight into:

“Are you in the house? Stay in the house, don’t go in the garden.”

“No, I’m at puppy school. Why?”

“Ok, phew. It’s ok, just that I’m watching the chasse go after some boar and it’s gone chaotic. The boar ran behind your grange, through the abri, shots are being fired from across the field towards your house and the dogs are now all over your place and right by the house. Definitely closer than 50m. I wanted to be sure you and Romy weren’t outside”

I didn’t like the picture that painted. Alarmed, and more than a little annoyed that shots had been fired through my new abri, I shot (!) straight home. The abri was intact, but the traces of the chase were obvious.

By the following week, I had interim fencing up between the abri area and the rest of the property. While I waited for the permanent wall, gates and drive to be finished, this patchwork barrier finally closed the last remaining gap. For the first time, the property perimeter was complete.

This weekend, Romy and I will have our annual ‘this is not a sanglier’ chat with the chasse 🙃 I’m under no illusion that if a boar or deer makes it through the fencing and the hounds give chase, the chasse will be all over the property in a heartbeat. So the annual hello still feels important.

The difference now is that I know a few more chasse members, and now they’re the ones to start the conversation with a grin: Romy isn’t a sanglier : )

More Snapshots of the Domaine Les Plonges ‘journey’ every edition.

Possibly you found your way here via Instagram? @domainelesplonges? If so, an extra Bienvenue! You’ll already know I love a good visual. So here I’ll share others and a little more context behind the images…

Whether it’s discovering unique work by artists and designers from near and far or rummaging through vide greniers, brocantes, and hidden treasure troves, I’m always on the lookout! I’ll be sharing my favourite artists, designers and sourcing spots here 😄

With the shift to Autumn beginning, suddenly you start to notice lighting again – no? I’ll admit, I’m a little lighting obsessed, although, not nearly on the level of the friend who gave me this book Perfect Lighting by Sally Storey a.k.a the lighting bible – he’s in another league entirely! Though thanks to his visit earlier this year, the interior’s entire lighting plan is mapped out, complete with clever spots and uplighting tricks.

That said, I know I’m only halfway there. When you find your father at the dining table, a small army of lamps gathered around, and still wearing a headlamp to read – you know a room’s lighting situation needs some attention!

I’ve re-purposed lots of fixtures from previous homes (kitchen lamps, chandeliers, pendants and other lamps) but this property requires more, especially wall lights, both indoors and out. A few favourites so far:

Outdoor lighting is a mammoth future task, and while I may have identified and sourced the discreet downlighters for the walls, just the cabling work with be a huge undertaking.  

Happily, I do now have decent terrace lighting via these beauties from Roger Pradier. Although they did have a design fault in that the cylinder became a moth mortuary due to a strange gap. The company hadn’t realised, and while there’s a fix for my lights, they are now also fixing the design.

Lighting is definitely going to have to be a series – there’s far too much to fit into a single edition.

With a change in seasons, the planning hat re-appears (!) and I have creative ateliers on my mind. Which one to do first, writing, art, music, wellness? How best to do them, when to do them etc!

If so, I’d love to hear from you - please do get in touch!

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