Caballos de las reginas son moy quapos. Las reginas se gusta mucho cosas bonitas. Muchas reginas de la Frances viven en la Chateaux Chenonceau. La Chateaux Villandry es una famosa Chateaux porque los jardines es moy grande y bonita. Me gusta mucho el jardin.
We ate, packed our things, and then left Amboise. All of us weren't really looking forward to leaving Amboise because we really liked the town, but all of us were looking forward to walking around the Chateau Villandry because we'd been told by the information lady that if we want to see gardens we absolutely HAD to go there because they were the gardens of France. She turned out to be only partially right. We went there and found not only gardens, but also a wonderful interior to the Chateau.
When we walked through the door of the gift shop we were met with the sight of stonework in front of us (along with a bridge that passed over the "moat"), the Chateau on our left in the style similar to Versailles, and beyond the gray of the stones we could see in the distance tons of brilliant color. I wanted to head straight to the garden, but we'd bought tickets to see both the Chateau and the Gardens so we went inside first. This Chateau was bought not too long ago by an Spaniard and his wife. The Chateau had all the facilities that most homes have today, only on a much grander scale. Each room had loads of color and style in it. What I really liked was how each room had a window where you could look out and see the gardens. Another thing that I liked about the Chateau was the rooms that were upstairs. These where the children's rooms and the gallery rooms. The children's rooms reminded me distinctly of the rooms I used to design when I was younger for my siblings (the most elaborate ones were reserved for my baby sisters, since I'm not one to like too much sparkle and pomp in my own room). The art gallery featured the family's private collection of paintings, most of which were classical Spanish. I had no idea that the Spanish were so fascinated with torture and blood and guts, but apparently that's often the theme found in ooold paintings (other than that of Christ's self-sacrifice). I suppose I might've given everyone the wrong impression. I didn't really like these rooms per se. I found it curious that there were so many terrible depictions within this families collection. Why would they collect so many paintings of cruel inflictions of pain, whenever they're living in such a fantastic, beautiful, harmonious house that's surrounded by their utterly breathtaking gardens? Two different tastes there, housed under the same roof. I'll probably be deliberating over that question for quite some time.
On the very top floor there was another gallery, this one I really did like. This one showed different pressed flowers. I didn't stay to look long though. These pressed flowers were nothing like the geometric forms of color that I saw outside the many windows. My thirst to see these gardens and to walk in them was slowly growing. So I went out on the terrace to lean on the balustrade and gawk at the garden, particularly the "love garden" which was right beneath me. This garden has four different sections. One is for tender love (has hearts in it), one for passionate love, fickle love (tis normally mostly yellow because this color is the symbol for fickleness and this garden is for those lovers who've been cast aside), and one was for tragic love (this one had many sharp points and thin paths-tis normally filled with red). After reading about this garden and the other gardens I could see I started to get ansty, I started wondering what was taking Ahmee so long (Poppy and I had left her inside). After peaking my head back into the building and woohooing through the turnpike I realized that Ahmee was no longer there. Five minutes later Ahmee came out of the exit door, saying she'd run to use the bathroom. Poppy and I rushed down the steps she'd just ascended so that I could use the facilities as well. Once we all got back together we went for a walk through the garden, oohing and ahhing at every little thing as we went.
You know, I'm not much of a straight edge person. I don't do squares and fancy shapes in my gardens, and I definitely don't do corners very well. This garden was full of squares with designs on the inside. The thing that astounded me was that I liked this garden. I liked it because it wasn't too empty. I liked it because it had many different colors. I liked it because it served the purpose gardens are meant to serve (for me anyway). There are two different things gardens are meant to do: 1) they're meant to excite and cheer up the beholder, and 2) they're meant to be the perfect place for thinking. Why do I say that? Well, my first ever garden where I was able to do this was in North Carolina when I was less than 10 years old. (I'm going off the topic of Villandry here)
The house we had in North Carolina was a one floor place, set down in the middle of 52 pine trees (Ahmee counted them). Our yard had these giant trees popping up everywhere. Something else our yard had were little patches of gardens (we hadn't gotten to the grand-scale gardening yet) that were along the house, near the stop sign, near our many Dogwood trees, near our huge bushes that bloomed pink every year (and which covered 80 percent of our yard). The part of the yard where I spent most of my time though was in the back near where our swing-set was. Right next to this swing-set was our own little backyard forest (very small, dense piece of land there). I ended up creating my own little garden there in a little cove under the trees and right next to the swing-set. This cove had the bricks I needed (an old well had been filled in there) to line my garden, had the space I needed to place a chair, AND had one very large pink bush that blocked the view of the rest of the yard and the house. I just needed to make it cozy and put in a few flowers. I first made it cozy by dragging a HUGE lawn chair that was twice my size and very very heavy (Momma couldn't even pick it up outright, I had to raise one corner at a time and "walk it") over to the little hideout where I plopped it down right next to my bush and in the "corner" of my clearing. After placing this chair I had an amazing view of the underbrush, the leaves, the birds, the squirrels, AND I also could hear everything behind me so if I needed to leave my little space I could. In the springtime when my pink bush bloomed I'd go out and sit in my chair with all the pink blooms next to me, all the dark shades of green and brown in front of me, and all the golden light on the grass (which I could see through my "door"). Later I made the entrance to this little hideout simplistically beautiful by putting in hostas.
At any rate, when I had this little hideout time seemed to stop and I could think about anything and everything I wanted there and still be quite content. The garden at Villandry, with all it's geometrical patterns, seemed to do that to me too (just like Giverny did). Something else I realized as I walked around this garden was that while the garden definitely served as a place for relaxation and deliberation it also served as a great project for me that I adored showing off. If I'd had Villandry I'd have had many parties where my garden was lit up at night to spotlight the paths and to light up the plants-giving a whole knew impression to it. If I'd had Villandry, I decided as I viewed the Renaissance-style gardens, that I'd want it to be a masquerade party so that everyone could talk to everyone else without pretenses (I'd gotten this idea from the love garden). The murmur of conversation, the occasional bit of laughter, the couples walking around the garden talking and admiring things while still wrapped up in each other, and the children running down the paths made me really really miss my own garden. These are things that are supposed to happen in gardens, people are meant to find little spots to sit and think, people are meant to be able to share their garden with people and play (as a kid neighbors came over to my hideout and we'd play pretend in there), people are meant to be able to walk through and enjoy/criticize. All of these things filled my mind as I walked up and around most of the garden and through the maze. After the maze we headed out. My favorite section of the garden was the last bit that we saw and this also surprised me. The last section we saw was the vegetable garden. Since we're visiting in November I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I liked this section the most (it had the most in it), but normally I'm not a big fan of vegetable gardens (they only last one year, they don't come back, they only get eaten once, and they're normally very picky). These gardens were arranged so that complementary colors were in full blast (this would be orange with blue and red with green, etc.). I loved it. I want ornamental cabbage now. I want to grow veggies in my garden now.
Actually after we left this garden I wanted to start planning one for Ahmee and Poppy (since our yard would just look wrong with all the curves we have in it). As we ate lunch in the chilly outdoor restaurant that was right next to the Chateau I deliberated over what design I'd put in and I told Ahmee how she could pull in off in her garden.
Even after we left the Chateau I was thinking about how I could transform Ahmee and Poppy's garden into something similar. Unfortunately my thoughts had to be cut short for work once we got back on the highway.
Of course, there's never much to write when I'm working because the only things I'm thinking about are well, what I'm reading and writing about. This time is no different. I worked all through the afternoon until the sun started sinking down and we got off the highway. Unfortunately I didn't realize we were off the highway until after my stomach started grumbling at me. I put the computer and my books away then and leaned back in my seat as we went around curves, looking for a hotel. This didn't take long. Luckily we ran right into a two star hotel named the Bellview Hotel, in the tiny town of Bessines. Another stroke of luck delivered free wifi to us. Perhaps an ever better stroke of luck was how wonderful the restaurant was downstairs. The food was good, that's all I can remember about it. I don't remember what exactly I got, but I do remember it was good. What I do remember clearly was the desert. I'll do my best to describe it, then again maybe a shouldn't because it'll make everyone's mouth water (unless they're allergic to chocolate). This desert consisted of a still-warm brownie that was up in the right hand corner of my plate, a dash of fruity syrup as a diagonal, and in the bottom left hand corner was a bit of.... icecream (I think). The brownie was what made the desert. It was more in the shape of a muffin, and when I first cut into it I didn't hit anything other than the super-sweet cake-like softy stuff. However whenever I cut farther into it do you know what I hit? I hit gooey, melted chocolate. This was no brownie. This was a brownie chocolate-pocket. It was all warm, all sweeter than anything I've ever tasted, all so gooey it stuck to the roof of my mouth. You all might be surprised when you here that for the first time I wasn't actually too sad to see such chocolate-goodness gone (it was small), but that thing was so sweet it had the same effect that three large bowls of moose-track chocolate icecream would've had. Absolutely amazing. I'm afraid nothing will ever be the same. No chocolate quite good enough (that's a lie).
Moving past my brownie, before we went up to type on the computer (and then fall asleep) I ran into an elderly doggie named Toby. Toby was a French doggie so I had to make sure and speak to him with my tiny bit of french (too difficult to spell). The lady who ran the desk had seen me devour my brownie and had been pleased with how much I loved it and how I didn't refrain from letting her know it was incredible. So I did earn some brownie points with her (pun completely intended) with that. When I stopped to pet the doggie she smiled and said, "That's Toby." I'm not sure if Toby liked me. He circled me once (after letting me pet him) and then he went and sat down away from me. I took that as my cue to head upstairs with Ahmee and Poppy.
Once upstairs I "tappy-fingered" on the computer for a while to family and friends and then I went to sleep (after Ahmee and Poppy had already turned out the lights).
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