Sceaux

Well, hello again! I have returned to Paris after a long break. This means I can sit down and organize my thoughts somewhat coherently after adventures abroad and many late nights imbibing and thriving.

I must admit, although I was not in Paris for all of August, the weather this entire summer has been gorgeous. It's totally made up for the swampy wet misery endured last year, and it's reformed my opinions about the place. Yes, you can wear flirty summer frocks here without wool tights, really! Picnics and long evenings and lazing about in the park has been the norm, and my umbrella was forgivingly useless for once.

It's been a good summer for exploring, and I've taken quite a few daytrips (and continue to do so as September is also being kind to me).

One rather sweltering afternoon, I took a trip out to Domaine du Sceaux.

It's a small Chateaux with expansive gardens right on the RER B line, just outside of Paris. It's a stop I've passed going out to Orly without much of a thought for it. Alas, this is the year of André Le Nôtre, and the tourism board is pushing all of his landscaping efforts for your wandering pleasure. Gladly.

I mean, they really are something. Huge, sweeping grounds with lawns, orderly rows of trees, ambitious canals and water elements, with plenty of hidden nooks and winding paths to explore along the way. It's very regal.

While the midday sun is hard to shoot in, I sometimes can't help the time I'm in a place.

I usually try to wait out the more attractive late afternoon light, but oftimes I just have to shoot away as I go.

The chateau, while lovely, was small and devoid of visitors.

It wasn't Versailles, but it would have been a very comfortable place to settle regardless. Nothing to be ashamed of.

There wasn't anyone visiting it either, so it was nice to meander around. Truthfully, they didn't have much except some old furniture and paintings of long-dead aristocrats, but, eh. It was a nice break from the sun.

Outside was where the action was, as the whole town uses this park as their backyard. All but a few brave souls were clustered in the shade of the orderly box trees or the tall plane trees along the Grand Canal.

Is it worth the trip out? Sure, if you have the time for it. I always tell people visiting on a limited time frame that if they see one grand Chateau, go right for the jugular and spend a day at Versailles. Once that's been seen, it's nice to visit some of the smaller places with no or little crowds to have to battle with. Plus, some of the chateaus get snippy about picnics on their lawns, but this one didn't. Pack a nice lunch and watch the swans glide down the canal.

Chic Parisian Sheep

There was an entire barn full of sheep and goats at the Salon de l'Agriculture.

Most of the breeds were meat or milk breeds, but there was a handful of gloriously fibery merinos and Rambouillets. Like the horses, there were a lot of France-specific breeds and some unusual rare breeds.

There were some beautiful bald-faced Bleu du Maine sheep being judged in the showring.

This woman had the most wonderful sheepy vest and chapeau that blended right in with livestock.

Sadly, most of the animals seemed pretty stressed. Unlike Rhinebeck, which is mostly outdoors in covered areans, this was completely indoors in a big heated building. It was hot. I had taken off my winter coat and spent most of the time a bit on the swampy-pits side of my temperature range. Most of the sheep had not been sheared and had been outside for most of the winter, and they were visibly panting and uncomfortable.

Another thing that agitated me is that pretty much every pen had a sign that asked you to not touch the animals and to just let them be (most of them were hiding out of reach anyway) and not only were people poking at any animal within reach, I saw a lot of grown-ass men doing rather dick things taunting the animals- grabbing at a ram's horns and shaking them or lifting their kids into the pens with them. Poor, terrified sheep.

A rather nightmare-inducing Rouge de l'Ouest:

I didn't know sheep could get that ugly. Slap a red, hairless face on one and suddenly an herbivore looks like it's out for blood.

I thought this Mourerous had a lovely, thoughtful face:

Suffolks:

As you can see, I spent hours wandering around the sheep and goat pens. I was hoping there would be more wool/yarn/crafty things. There was a couple- someone had some very nice mohair yarns and another lady had mostly pre-made garments from her wool and a few skeins of millspun yarn, but the rustic yarn craze has yet to really hit France. I'm a merino and cashmere kind of gal in an acrylic kind of crafting scene.

A Rambouillet, keeping clean for the show ring:

There was only one shepherd who brought tiny Ouessant sheep:

These are a fairly rare breed from Brittany- the French version of a Shetland or Icelandic primitive-style sheep. They look lamb-sized, but these are as big as they get. They are almost always black in color.

Oh, and there were lambs!

I have no idea what kind of sheep these are, but they were adorable with their raccoon masks and lop ears. They were shy about all the people around them, but occasionally would ignore the crowd enough to leap around and play and just be as cute as possible.