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The north wind of France doth blow

I hope that all is well with you and yours.

It’s been a chilly old week where I am – the cats and dogs are all sprawled in front of the roasty toasty wood fire in the house, the chickens are hiding in their huts and the wild birds are waiting for me each morning, wanting some extra nourishment as the berries are frozen on the branches. It’s been a good opportunity to test my cold weather gear as I’m off on an adventure in the French Alps in 10 days time. My dream to walk in the snowy mountains will finally come true, all being well – I’m hopping on a train to traverse France to Grenoble and from there to the mountains! (Come with me on Instagram)

The wind has made it colder in the north where I live. We don’t get the Mistral here, the famously strong wind which howls up and down the mountains of Provence, along the cobbled streets or perched villages and whips up the sand on the beaches along the Mediterranean coast. I have only experienced it once. I was at a truffle market in medieval Richerenches, it was a blue-skied day in December and the Mistral blew bitterly cold, heckling and harassing, threatening to puff the paniers of precious black diamonds away.

My neighbour Claudette, who is in her 90s, tells me that some people in the north call the wind a ‘bise’ – a kiss, as it blows the rain clouds away and kisses the sky to make it smile again. But in the winter there is a bitter north wind which the locals call an écorche-vache, Skinned Cow, because it blows so hard it might blast the skin off of a cow – a bit of an exaggeration, though when it starts gusting, it is certainly bitter. Naming the wind is a French “thing” I found when I went down the rabbit hole of trying to find out more about the Skinned Cow wind. There are more than 630 named French winds, including one called Father Barnard in Brittany. The locals say of it “Father Barnard lifts off in the middle of the gorse, makes himself a coat of sea salt, then leaves, as if resurrected, to visit the Loire Valley and disappear into the marshes.” I have to say our rather cold wind this week is not quite so romantic, it is rattling the shutters that are closed tight on the houses in my village, it’s making me eat my hair when we walk the dogs, and levitating the chickens like tiny, feathered Mary Poppins’.

Wherever you are, I wish you a very bon weekend,

Bisous
Janine
Editor
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Janine Marsh is Author of My Good Life in France: In Pursuit of the Rural Dream,  My Four Seasons in France: A Year of the Good Life and Toujours la France: Living the Dream in Rural France all available as ebook, print & audio, on Amazon everywhere & all good bookshops online. Her new book How to be French – a celebration of the French lifestyle and art de vivre, is out now – a look at the French way of life.

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