❝ Lights move back and forth across the fields behind the Chateau until the wee hours of the morning, as huge machines cut and thresh golden sheaves of ripe wheat. They start again at daybreak… ❞
Read More
❝ Pascal is an anesthesiologist. But Henry didn’t even ask him if he missed his old life in Paris. Pascal was too busy trying to keep a little calf away from its mother’s udder, as he squirted the last drop from her left rear teat into the shiny stainless-steel bucket. When Henry was little, we kept a small herd of Jersey milk cows… ❞
Read More
❝ Her legs were long, spindly and knobbly. And like any newborn horse, she was already on them. Within a few hours, she was cantering to catch up to her mother…❞
Read More
Here in the peace of the Normandy countryside, we are “au confinement,” like the millions of our French compatriots. We share our fate with some of our family, including two little girls and their parents who are staying in the Farmhouse. We are the lucky ones, we know…
Read More
Making music to celebrate the hunt is an ancient tradition.
Read More