It’s May and the poppies are blooming in Provence. Their tiny black faces almost obscured by their bright red hats, delicate, vibrant, petals wafting in the breeze.

Last year I was in Lourmarin admiring them. This year I should have been too but then the world stopped and everything changed.

But I know they're smiling once again, amid the olive trees, in the fields and along the country road sides.

A dotted carpet of crimson hats will be splashed in front of the Lourmarin château.

There’s no red poppies in northern California, where I live, 30 miles east of the City by the Bay. But in this beautiful, scenic area, in both the gardens and on the rolling hills above my house there are a mass of wild flowers, including local poppies.

Californian poppies, the dazzling orange little cousins of the poppies from Provence. This poppy, the Golden Poppy, is native to California. It grows wildly in great abundance and in 1903 was made the official state flower.

I'm sad to not be in Lourmarin and can you blame me....

But I'm lucky to be somewhere also very lovely, it's not too bad a view where I live!

And as an English girl, who might well be confused, living in California but passionately in love with Provence, I couldn't write about poppies without explaining their huge significance back at home.

Growing up in England, where poppies  flourish later in the year, I’d always associated them with the end of summer not the start. But most of all I think of them on Poppy Day, in November, dedicated to the remembrance of all those that fell among the fields of northern France and Belgium in World War I.

And those poppies that fringed the battlefields at Ypres in 1915 became immortalized in the words of a Canadian Soldier, Major John Macrae

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below

****

And as an English girl, so connected to the USA and France, the story of the poppies is entwined with these three places I hold so dear. For we owe the origins of the poppy as a symbol of remembrance to an American woman, Moina Michael, who having read In Flanders fields campaigned tirelessly for the poppy to be adopted as a symbol of Remembrance in the USA. In September 1920 the National American Legion agreed and inspired by Moina’s idea, a French woman, Anna Guerin, expanded it to help all those in need amongst the allies of France in Europe.

A year later, on November 11th 1921, Anna sent some French women to London to sell their artificial red poppies on Remembrance Day. It became the emblem for The Royal British Legion who every since have used the funds from Poppy Day to help a multitude of charitable causes.

Wherever you might be reading this I hope you have some flowers to brighten your day. In these difficult days of worry, whether red or orange, regardless of their color or where they grow, a bunch of flowers will cheer your spirits. Something I'm wishing for you all, with a speedy end to all uncertainty, when we we can all move freely and safely as we did before. Stay safe and well my friends.

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Every year on July 4th, thousands of Americans across this great continent adorn their homes in the stars and stripes, don their red, white and blue, attend local parades, and light up their BBQ's to celebrate America's independence from us, the Brits!!! Incredibly, 239 years later, we are each other's greatest friends and international allies and have been for decades. As Brits living in this amazing country we have always been warmly welcomed and have found life long friendships with the truly special people who have become part of our life here. Each year we have been moved by the patriotism and pride, resonating from every street corner, when the locals pulls out all the stops to celebrate their beloved country, during our little town of Danville's wonderful 4th July Parade.

The Stars and Stripes outside Pete's Brass Rail, Danville, California

An truck decked out for July 4th as can only happen in the 'good ole U.S. of A!

Every shop, restaurant and business premise dressed for the occasion!

All the way from Michigan, home of The Ford Motor Company!

Proud to be an American!!

Wild life of the West!

The brown bear, the mighty symbol of California!


Enjoying the BBQ during the parade!

On our way home our neighbor's home - the oldest house in town - built in 1860's by Robert Love !!

July 4th BBQ!

God Bless America!!

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There is something special about this time of year, a mystical wonder in the air, the anticipation of the season. Daylight fades much earlier, evenings are longer, there is a distinct chill at night and early mornings are fresh and crisp. Thoughts turn to Christmas preparations and in USA to Thanksgiving. It feels like people are shopping with a purpose for the upcoming festivities. Two nights ago we wandered around our small town of Danville whose shops had opened its doors in preparation for the season. Excited children rode on fairy tale carriages and had holiday photos taken with Santa. Tiny lights twinkled through the trees and Christmas music filled the air, the magic had begun, for this, my favourite time of year.

The evening light made everything so enchanting and shop windows looked just that bit more enticing.

It was easy to step across the threshold and become immersed in the season's sparkle!

Here, in one of my favorite local stores, there lay an abundance of temptation for your home and gifts to spoil those you treasure.

China, glasses and linen to make your table that more festive as those you love gather around it

When we stepped back outside children were chattering excitedly as the clambered aboard the fairy tale pumpkin for a journey around the local streets.

Two loyal and hardworking friends waited patiently

Caught up in the atmosphere and 'make believe' it is almost possible to see frost and snow on the windows!

Christmas is, after all, only a few weeks away

Where will you be shopping this Christmas?

P.S. Lucky me, I am going to London this week!

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Recently I have been busy networking with other writers, talking mostly about Provence. When the Franco-British Chamber of Commerce tweeted about me last week they referred to Shutters and Sunflowers as ‘a fun Franco British blog with a US flavor’. I was thrilled to get the mention but it got me thinking, I have written a great deal about Provence, it’s how I started this blog, but as the Chamber said 'I am an English girl from California......', maybe I haven’t given enough attention to the place I actually live in, a charming, leafy suburb just 30 miles from glorious San Francisco, the little town of Danville. Not a cobbled street, shutter or ancient limestone building in site but still a place I choose to move to from England and somewhere which will always be special to me.

We have actually lived here twice. In 1993 for two years, when transferred with work from England, we choose Danville because it seemed to be a vibrant, family community, a good place for our two young children (then 5 and 3), it was attractive and well located for work, equally accessible for Silicon Valley, the Peninsular and the city. We were not disappointed and through the children made life long friends who visited us in England and with all our relatives an ocean away, became part of our ‘American family’! In 1999, after four years back in England we returned; to the sunshine and a life style we loved and had missed. Skiing in winter and summers on the lake at Lake Tahoe,

the breathtaking beauty of the Pacific Ocean and the coastline of Carmel,

The Napa and Sonoma Valleys, only a 45 minute drive away,

and of course San Francisco itself,
but why did we choose Danville?

Simply put, Danville is a pretty place to be. It is picturesque, full of restored, historic properties whose character has been preserved as the town has grown.

Nestled 30 miles east of San Francisco, at the foot of the mighty Mt Diablo, the area was originally settled by native Americans.

With proceeds from the Gold Rush the building of a town began in the 1850’s and Danville grew as a small farming community. The coming of the railway in 1891 greatly helped its prosperity and growth. The old Railway Station is now the proud home to The Museum of the San Ramon Valley dedicated to preserving the history of the area.

Today Danville boasts good schools, with 2 well respected Public High schools, a small theatre, a beautiful library and an active community center. It has a thriving soul, with many small businesses, gift, fashion and accessory shops,

and an ever growing collection of restaurants and bistros which have made it a popular place for visitors.
Bridges Restaurant where 'Mrs Doubtfire' was filmed in 1993.

It plays host to many annual events; antique and craft fares, musical festivals and some magnificent automobile gatherings.

The older part of Danville is full of leafy lanes,

and like most Danville streets, they are flanked by well cared for homes and lovingly tended gardens.

Some of the original ranch properties and orchards still survive. The Love House, the oldest home in Danville, now a historic property, once surrounded by walnut groves and orchards owned by the Love family.

The old railway line, now part of the Iron Horse Trail, much loved and well used, threads its way through the center and beyond. On the ridges above the town more energetic hikes can be found, offering breathtaking views across the San Ramon Valley where the 680 freeway ribbons its way along. Danville straddles both sides of this valley, the wider community sprawling out mostly to the East towards Blackhawk and beyond. To the north it merges into Alamo and then Walnut Creek. Walnut Creek is Danville's closest main town, with its attractive downtown offering good shopping and also where the nearest BART stops, making San Francisco that much closer for commuters.

To the south, are the towns of San Ramon and Pleasanton where in gleaming business parks many Danville residents work. Every Saturday a bustling Farmers Market collects in Danville’s center.

Families with small children, people with their pets in toe, walkers from the trail all happily filling their baskets and being entertained by local musicians.

The symbol of Danville, its massive oak tree, is its focal point.

No more so than at Christmas when it is festooned by twinkling lights magically lit by the Snow Queen and Santa, cheered on by those same small children and their families as Christmas tunes fill their air and small mittened hands clutch hot chocolate or cider and nibble on cookies provided by local businesses. It’s a prosperous, family community, a happy place where elementary children still ride their bicycles to school, play safely in its many parks and gather together for all those sporting activities that the majority of the over 5’s participate in!

It’s a place where our visitors always comment how ‘unexpected’ and pretty it is. It’s the place where our children learned to ride their bicycles, danced in ballet recitals, found soccer stardom for the under 13’s, graduated High school and left in different directions for college. It’s a place our family loves, a place we call home………….

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Spoiled as we are by the continuing warm weather in Northern California, there are still signs everywhere that Autumn has danced her way back into our lives. Leaves carpeting the ground, acorns scattered below the trees and a distinct chill to the early morning air. Mother Nature wears her most vibrant gowns of burnt orange and red as the evening sky is splashed with crimson and the daylight dwindles much earlier. It feels like it’s time to cook stews and casseroles, and sip red wine by the glow of the fire! I thought you might enjoy some of my favourite recipes for this time of year, do send me yours!

One pot wonders ~ casseroles and stews!

One of the great things about casseroles or ‘one pot’ meals is that many of them are actually best prepared the day before which allows the flavours to enhance. They then just require gentle preheating before serving.

California's Napa Valley Vineyards in Autumn

As accompaniments I pre-prepare mashed potatoes, puréed parsnips, or puréed cauliflower, a more calorie conscious option. I simply boil potatoes or parsnips or steam the cauliflower, add freshly milled salt and pepper, maybe add some butter or cream, with the cauliflower I just add a sprinkle of parmesan, (any hard cheese will work) although this is entirely optional. To mash the potatoes I find nothing works as well as good old fashioned elbow grease and a sturdy fork but for the parsnips and cauliflower I use my immersion blender, the one kitchen tool I would never be without! This blender is also brilliant for blending soups directly in the saucepan, (click on the links to buy: in USA in UK.)  I put the mixture in the dish I intend to serve from, cover with clear wrap and then give them just 2-3 minutes of microwave ‘zapping’ before serving.

Crisp early mornings in autumn

Along with the main dish I also serve some bright green vegetables, such a broccoli, chopped kale, french beans, or spinach (which is especially good with lamb) all of which need little last minute
fuss and provide a vibrant splash of colour to the plate!

Autumn sky at dusk, Mt Diablo, Danville, California

Here are a few recipe suggestions for hearty autumn 'one pot' meals from some of my favourite chefs, along with links to buy their recipe books, happy cooking!

Coq au Vin - Julia Child recipe
Beef Bourguinon - Julia Child recipe
Recipe Book Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle & Simone Beck (Made famous in the Meryl Streep, Rachel Adams movie Julie & Julia)

Chicken with 40 cloves of garlic - Barefoot Contessa recipe
Recipe Book The Barefoot Contessa in Paris Ina Garten

Lamb with green olives - John Ash's recipe
Grandma's pot roast  - John Ash's recipe
Recipe Book From Earth to table by John Ash - winner of the Julia Child Cook book of the Year

Braised short Ribs -  Gordon Ramsey's Recipe
Recipe Book Gordon Ramsey's Ultimate Cookery Course by Gordon Ramsey

Beef and ale stew  Jamie Oliver's recipe
Recipe Book The Ministry of Food  by Jamie Oliver

Andy the Gas Man's stew (lamb) Jamie Oliver's recipe
Recipe Book Jamie Oliver's Dinners

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I have found in life that things often happen when you least expect them. Yesterday morning I stopped in a wonderful store, I am seldom in the neighborhood to visit, Market Hall in Rockridge, (just along College Avenue from Berkeley) As soon as I’d crossed the threshold I remembered why I loved this shop, a visual masterpiece of enticing, gourmet temptations, like a grand European delicatessen.

The shelves at Market Hall in Rockridge are tightly packed with olive oils, preserves and chutneys, a counter selling homemade pies, salads, soups, desserts and pastas.

Market Hall has a cheese counter like you rarely see anywhere locally, you could be in France!

There are wonderful, delicious, home cooked pastries, specialty breads from my favorite bakery Acme, and baguettes!

Market Hall in Rockridge even has baskets to purchase, just like the ones from the Provencal markets!

I rapidly became consumed by the ambience, emerged in the bustle and chatter by the bread counter and the warm coffee aroma, I almost expect a "Bonjour Madame" to be proffered up as it became my turn in the coffee line! Meandering back through the store, relishing every second I stopped to browse the wine selection, wondering whether there was any good rose wine.

A friendly young man offered his assistance and pre-occupied by reminiscences of France, I found myself asking whether he had any wines from Languedoc Roussillon. The response I got immediately caught my attention, not only could he show me several bottles but he began enthusiastically telling me how he had spent a month there this summer. As I followed him through the shop, my curiosity peeked I gingerly asked him where he had been.

‘Oh,’ he said ‘a small town you have probably never heard of, called Uzès.’ It was an unexpected reply and of course one that led us to a 20 minute conversation, sharing stories of wineries, restaurants and France. It was as if together we had suddenly been transported 5000 miles away, on a cloud of shared enthusiasm, to Place aux Herbes, Uzès.

We exchanged emails, I told him about my blog and he said he would follow me. I left my new ‘friend’ feeling thrilled and amazed, it felt as if in thinking so intensely about somewhere, somehow an instant and real connection had been created to it! I was so glad that I had stopped off atMarket Hall in Rockridge. Are there really no such things as coincidences?

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Pumpkins are such happy things, when I see them arranged in a pile as they are so often are at this time of year, well pumpkins make me smile! Life is a journey, a journey, that regardless of how well you think you have planned the route, can sometimes takes you down paths you didn’t intend to take. A journey, where the unexpected happens, where the bumps in the road make you wonder where you’re heading and feel unsure. It’s a journey when sometimes you feel really lost, when, with maybe tears not far away, you wonder in desperation how you ever got so far off course; health scares, money pressures, worries about people you love; they swim before your eyes like enormous road blocks.....

I know that feeling, I expect you do too, it is, as I said, part of this journey we are all traveling called life. Last week as I drove in seemingly endless circles around the same spot, my sunglasses all smudged I finally stopped. Momentarily dazzled, in that one tiny mili second of pausing, I looked upwards at the sky. The leaves rustled, sun rays dappled across the ground and I realized that the colours were changing, one season was quietly ebbing away as the next was re-introducing itself. I felt oddly reassured, and when I saw the pile of pumpkins outside my local grocery store I remembered nothing stays the same forever.

A crimson leaf, kissed by a rain drop lay at my feet as I opened the car door, it made me feel thankful, we so badly need some rain.

Outside the grocery store, huge preparations had been made to welcome the new season, it made me laugh, it made me feel happy, as I said pumpkins make me smile!

Cheeky red peppers in the market, sat next to baby pumpkins, just begging to be arranged upon a Fall table, it made me excited.

Oversized pomegranates seemed to demand to be caressed and turned over, anxious be able to make their contribution. It reminded me of my father and how he loved to buy us pomegranates at Christmas as a treat, it made me smile.

Giant sunflowers decked out in autumnal shades danced before me, they made me feel glad, glad that I had paused, glad that I had found the time to notice.

I could see a tiny clearing along the road, I wasn't lost after all. I just hadn’t been looking closely enough around me to realize that there is always a way forward.

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Meandering amongst the trees, staring up in wonder at the daylight peeking through the branches, rays of sunshine streaming down the towering trunks of the redwood trees in the Muir Woods 10 minutes drive north of San Francisco, one can feel quite insignificant; encompassed by the magnificence of Mother Nature.

"I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in". ~John Muir.

Momentarily, every day concerns seem quite unimportant. Whilst we spend our time rushing to meet deadlines, Mother Nature's creations stand patiently, timelessly stretching upwards towards the heavens, seemingly their only purpose in life is just to 'be'.

"The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you." ~ Robert Louis Stevenson

How often do we take the time just to 'be', filling our lives with things; considering ourselves so unimportant that we are driven to fill every moment with being busy? How often do we make the time to walk along a woodland path or sit and watch the stars or brood over the dawning of a new life amongst the hedgerows? If we can but pause and open our eyes to what is all around us, how more clearly will we see the pathway we are destined to travel, the stars yet to be discovered and the life within ourselves to bring into creation?

Long after we have gone, bubbling water will still chatter its ways over the stones of a shallow stream as if in conversation, ferns will sway and blow in the breeze, the sun will cast it rays of warmth as small birds settle and fluff their feathers, pecking with tiny stabs at the fallen boughs which are ripe with a lunch of scurrying bugs!

Simple things of life, surrounding us every day, almost taken for granted. We spend so much time trying to put right what we believe is imperfect yet we are surrounded by Mother Natures' perfections. Never are we expected to paint the sky blue or cajole the sun to rise or coax the petals of a flower to unfurl, we are only asked to notice them to take joy in their existence and live harmoniously .

"When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky. ~Buddha

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I have to admit I know virtually nothing about ice hockey. I grew up watching rugby, occasionally soccer, Wimbledon tennis and of course always Formula 1 racing!! I played field hockey in high school but no one played ice hockey neither was it televised in England. In all truthfulness it was generally regarded as one of the those American sports involving lots of muscle and big men chasing each other, all dressed up in their shoulder pads and other gear, just like that other version of 'football' which is played on this side of the pond!!! Ouchhhh some of you are probably squirming, I truthfully mean no offence, I just needed to be educated!! So who better to take this cynical Brit in hand than someone who knows a great deal about ice hockey, probably about 'football' too, as her husband played for his university. Whilst I was watching James Hunt and Niki Lauda put their lives in jeopardy on car race tracks across the globe, my dear friend Sarmi was transfixed by strong male forms; admiring the skill and tactics of her home team, the Toronto Maple Leafs, waving and swiping their ice hockey sticks, in what is generally regarded as the Canadian sport, ice hockey! When she kindly invited me to join her to watch these buffed and beefed up Canadians play the much revered, equally toned and fit, local San Jose Sharks I had few expectations, we were just two girlfriends out for a jaunt, wow, was I in for a surprise!!!
First of all this was the U.S. of A. where everything is done with pizazz and let's just say a touch of Hollywood drama; for much to my amazement the local team appeared on the ice from the mouth of a shark!!

Next, before a puck was sliced, let alone sent reeling, respects were paid to each team's homeland.


The players stood proud and respectful before the action began!

Once the cheering ended the music and commentary began and we were reminded whose 'turf' we were on!

As the excited crowd roared and clapped each team tackled the other, chasing the tiny puck up and down the ice with great speed and agility. The puck was shot like an oversized bullet at impressive speeds which, I was informed, can sometimes reach over 100 mph!

We were prompted when to participate,

and just to what degree!

Maybe in Europe we don't need such encouragement but it certainly added to the theatre!! Sticks clashed and the puck was sent spinning and skidding across the shimmering ice.

And when disputes could not be resolved the refs got onto the phone to those Canadian experts back in Toronto!

It was great fun! It was fast moving and exciting, it was theatre, some would argue that it was just that, a show! I really enjoyed it and am grateful to my Canadian cousin (after all she does share 'my' Queen!) for giving me such a treat, broadening my American repertoire just that bit more, who knows maybe I am England's newest fan!!!!!

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12 miles north of San Francisco lies a breathtaking cathedral of redwood trees, the Muir Woods, named after John Muir, the Scottish born Naturalist. Muir dedicated much of his life to the preservation of such stunning wilderness spots. In Muir's own words; "Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul." Wandering amongst the serenity of these majestic trees one does indeed feel a sense of peace and connected with the simple beauty of nature.
The drive to Muir Woods from the city takes you over the Golden Gate Bridge dominating the skyline as it spans the entrance to San Francisco's Bay. Always spectacular, especially on a day as beautiful as this. 

The Golden Gate Bridge from the air.

John Muir (1838–1914) was an incredible advocate for wildlife preservation. His passion and enthusiasm encouraged many others, including presidents to preserve large nature areas. He founded The Sierra Club, now one of the most important conservation organizations in the United States. In 1890 he petitioned the U.S. Congress for the 1890 National Park bill that established Yosemite and Sequoia National Parks so it is small wonder that he is referred to by many as the 'Father of the National Parks'.

"In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks." John Muir

 "The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness." John Muir

A 'local' greeting the visitors!

'A wonderful day with my Grandma.'

Download the San Francisco Travel Guide  here, suggestions for where to stay, where to eat and what not to miss!

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