Bee keeping autrefois, and other matters.

About 40 years ago I was helping a couple of ex-Parisians leave their beautiful old farmhouse next door to us, and move down to the mountainous area of the Cevennes in the South. It all proved a bit disastrous, but it was their choice, and I was happy to assist them.

We unloaded all their beautiful antique furniture and belongings into a mountainside crumbling stone barn, and very reluctantly said Au revoir, knowing that it was probably Adieu.

I'll never forget watching those two vulnerable ladies standing and waving at us as we left. It's hard to imagine what happened after we'd gone. As much as we'd tried to persuade them to find a hotel, their Zen leanings over-ruled all. I pictured them sitting cross-legged, chanting 'oooom', and wearing saffron robes, as they looked out over the stunning mountainous landscape. We really felt as if we had 'abandoned' them; but they were reasonably wealthy, and they did own a car.  

On the way down, not long before we'd reached their new 'home', I kept noticing short bits of hollowed-out tree trunks on stone walls, these were invariably covered with a large slab of stone. I was informed that they were an ancient form of Bee Hive. They looked so beautiful, and natural, in those bleak mountainous surroundings that I was in awe of the ingenuity.

Just recently an advert appeared in my MSN news-feed page advertising brand new versions of these hives.

Carved in a slightly more chic decorative 21st C style than their older cousins, and having a more modern interior, they are bound to be popular again. I can see people taking-up Bee Keeping just to have a few of these in their orchard. They cost about 550 Euros each.

A propos my two ex-neighbours, I later learned that they had 'divorced'. Jeannine had headed further south to the Riviera, and Odette had died in a Parisian Hospital.

Before heading off on their Zen adventure, these two lovely ladies had given me all sorts of 'treasures' as part of their 'downsizing'. Amongst which were a lovely Biot Olive pot, a Trunk (below, complete with Odette's father's original address in Paris), and all sorts of exotic wooden spoons from their world travels; all of which I still have.

I have no idea what prompted their bizarre move to a ruined mountainside stone barn, but it really wasn't advisable. I missed them after they'd gone, and I quite expect they regretted their move as well.