Hi!

I’ve been back for almost three weeks now, and I’m finally getting around to posting my final pictures. We left Paris on Wednesday, June 27. We woke up that morning at 7am France time, and when we got home, it was 12:30am, or 7:30 am the next day France time. So, it was a long travel day, but we survived it!

It’s good to be back, and Jacob, Christian, and I are really enjoying being in the new house all together… finally! We’re loving having a yard, and we’ve eaten several dinners outside (when it’s late enough and therefore cool enough), using our new outdoor furniture. (This purchase was inspired by the stay with the Bel family and all those French dinners eaten outside!)

The first pictures I’m posting are from my visit to La Prieuré de Saint Cosmé (the day before Jacob arrived). Pierre de Ronsard, the Renaissance poet that I studied while in Tours, was the prieur in charge of La Prieuré de Saint Cosmé from 1565 – 1585, and he is buried here. The sanctuary at the prieuré was built in 1092.

Here are some tidbits about Ronsard from Wikipedia. I'm not trying to bore you, but I think it helps if you know what you're looking at! In the event that you are interested in knowing more about Ronsard, click here!

Pierre de Ronsard, commonly referred to as Ronsard (September 11, 1524 – December, 1585), was a French poet and "prince of poets" (as his own generation in France called him).

1552 -- publication of his Amours de Cassandre with the fifth book of Odes, dedicated to the 15-year-old Cassandre Salviati, whom he had met at Blois and followed to her father's Château de Talcy.

His popularity in his own time was overwhelming and immediate, and his prosperity was unbroken. He published his Hymns, dedicated to Margaret of France, Duchess of Berry, in 1555; the conclusion of the Amours, addressed to another heroine, in 1556; and then a collection of Œuvres completes, said to be due to the invitation of Mary Stuart, queen of Francis II, in 1560; with Elégies, mascarades et bergeries in 1565.

Towards the end of 1585 his condition of health grew worse and worse, and he seems to have moved restlessly from one of his houses to another for some months. When the end came, which, though in great pain, he met in a resolute and religious manner, he was at his priory of Saint-Cosme at Tours, and he was buried in the church of that name on Friday, December 27.

This trip was one of the coolest things I got to do in Tours. I’ve studied Ronsard’s poetry before, but studying it in France, getting to see the ballroom where he met his muse Cassandre (at Château de Blois), being able to visit the place he died and see his tomb made everything that I had read become so “real.” Many of Ronsard’s poems use the metaphor of the rose to describe his beloved (this was the topic of my paper), and I saw gardens full of roses at the priérie … so cool.

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This is looking back at the little windy road that comes off of a busy road and leads to the prieuré. Once inside, it’s as if you’ve traveled back in time.

This is the house in which Ronsard lived.

roses everywhere!

"Here lie the remains of Pierre de Ronsard, discovered in this place May 10, 1933, and replaced here with honor on June 10, 1934."

Ronsard's most famous poem, written to Cassandre:

Mignonne, allons voir si la rose

A Cassandre

Mignonne, allons voir si la rose
Qui ce matin avoit desclose
Sa robe de pourpre au Soleil,
A point perdu ceste vesprée
Les plis de sa robe pourprée,
Et son teint au vostre pareil.

Las ! voyez comme en peu d'espace,
Mignonne, elle a dessus la place
Las ! las ses beautez laissé cheoir !
Ô vrayment marastre Nature,
Puis qu'une telle fleur ne dure
Que du matin jusques au soir !

Donc, si vous me croyez, mignonne,
Tandis que vostre âge fleuronne
En sa plus verte nouveauté,
Cueillez, cueillez vostre jeunesse :
Comme à ceste fleur la vieillesse
Fera ternir vostre beauté.

English translation of the poem from french.about.com. (The link takes you to a French podcast about the poem, for any "Frenchies" who would like to hear it in French.)

Ode to Cassandra
Sweetheart, let's see if the rose
That this morning had open
Her crimson dress to the Sun,
This evening hasn't lost
The folds of her crimson dress,
And her complexion similar to yours.

Ah! See how in so little space
My sweetheart, she has on this very spot
All her beauties lost!
O, so un-motherly Nature,
Since such a beautiful flower
Only lasts from dawn to dusk!

So if you believe me, my sweetheart,
While time still flowers for you,
In its freshest novelty,
Do take advantage of your youthful bloom:
As it did to this flower, the doom
Of age will blight your beauty.

Now, for our pictures from Tours...

Jacob arrived Thursday afternoon, just as scheduled, at the train station at St. Pierre-des-corps. I met him there, then we took the 5 minute train back to Tours. He was tired but in good spirits, and we had a great time in Tours. We ran into Mme Bel while walking around Tours, and he saw her coming down the street before I did; he’d recognized her from the pictures! He waved to her, and she came right up to us and started talking to him in French! Their conversation went a little like this:

Mme Bel: Bonjour Jacob!

Jacob: Hi!

Mme Bel: Tu n’es pas fatigué ?

Jacob : a little. I had a little nap.

Mme Bel: Bon, alors fatigué mais pas trop fatigué !

Jacob : uh huh

Mme Bel : Vous faites une promenade ?

Jacob : uh…

I took over from here, but they did fairly well with their French / English exchange, each speaking in a different language! That night, we had dinner with Mme Bel, then went to the Fête de la musique, which was so neat.

It was just as I’d been told, music on every corner, every type, every style, everywhere! We’d see a group of people playing steel drums on a street corner, then walk a few feet and see a band set up playing rap music, then walk a few feet and see people singing and dancing to African music, then we’d see a punk band, then we’d see a group of middle-aged men playing trumpets, then we’d see a guy set up on the street spinning records with a strobe light and people dancing in front of it, etc, etc, etc. Most groups were stationary, but my personal favorite was a drumline that had formed a parade. People were jumping in like a conga line, and there were tambourines and whistles… it was moving through the streets like an amoeba and kept growing!

This was one of our favorite groups: a group of middle-aged guys in matching red jackets.

My camera takes terrible night pictures, so I apologize. This was a band set up at a café.

This is where they were playing African drums.

H Here we are at the Fête de la musique stage at Place Plumereau. There was a huge stage set up in the center of the square, and it was packed with people. (not sure who the girl is next to me.)

These pictures were taken on Friday, the last day of classes at the Institut. These are two of my teachers from the Institut. The red-haired lady was my French language teacher, and the shorter brunette taught my oral lab/ phonetics and my oral expression workshop. They were both very nice.













I need to go work on German -- I have my first quiz tomorrow! And, today is our anniversary, so I need to get all my work done so we can go on our date tonight!

Next post will be Paris pictures!