The Upper Room

July 16, 2015

     Preparing the bedroom on the attic floor for the visit of a close friend, I discovered the room was surprisingly cool on what has been a terribly hot day, the large metal fan providing more than enough air to blow the heat away..  Opening the windows, light poured into the room. The breeze, too, came in as I looked out over the foothills of the Parc Regional Naturel du Haut Languedoc.  The view from that height eclipsed the sight of cars on the well-trafficked road in front of the house's front door

    When I set up the room last year, I put half my music collection, (perhaps a hundred classical music CDs), in the room, all contained in two old apothecary cases lined up against the wall.  On the wall perpendicular is the large arched window with its accompanying shutters, then the shelves for books I had built above the 1920s desk (as worn as everything else in the room), I brought from New York.

     The biggest item in the room is the king-sized bed, which never fails to impress the French:

   "Everything's big in America, isn't it?"

   "Wow! Four people could sleep in that bed!"

     --are among the memorable comments I've heard.  The bed has a cast-iron frame that used to be painted an ivory color, but has lost some of its paint at the finials.  Lying in the bed with the shutters open you can see the houses on the road opposite, which rises to the hills and the trees of the park.

     I have a small portable CD player in the room, as the sound from the CD player below does not carry.  So anyone  staying in the room can choose a CD from the collection in the apothecary cases.  An old wing-backed chair between the window and the cases makes a nice place to sit, but the desk, with its Windsor chair is another.

     And of course, one could simply lie on one's stomach on the bed.

     There was something about looking outside the window at the hills and listening to music on the tinny player in the luminous room I found so peaceful, so removed from even the very calm streets of Caunes.

     Now that the room is finally furnished, it is one more place of escape to be enjoyed.  In the colder weather, it will be warmer than the rest of the house, too.  It is a place to be self-sufficient in for a few hours, to pick out a book to read from the shelves and listen to music, far from the madding crowd.  it reminds me of attics in children's stories, where the heroes and heroines imagine their secret lives, far from the meddling eyes and ears of adults.

     I love the nooks and crannies of the house, each room with its distinct personality.  For someone who grew up in an apartment in Manhattan, in France, I'm becoming quite the homebody.  This afternoon, I happily set out on the bed towels for my friend, along with a book I think he will enjoy.  In doing so, I remember reading about Pauline de Rothschild, the chatelaine of the chateau de Ferrieres.  Staying with her was said to be an exquisite experience, as the bedrooms and adjoining baths provided guests every comfort.

      Building pleasurable surprise into the experience of visitors is, I am coming to conclude, the joy of having a country house, even my modest one.