It had taken me half an hour to write 500 words and load up 4 photos, and then we had a 15 second power cut and the whole lot disappeared. There should have been a draft saved on the server somewhere on the West Coast of the USA, but while it had three versions of last week's blog, it had nothing of today's.
On a rather dull Easter Monday morning, I have decided to try again - we'll see how it goes!
This stage of April brings bluebells dotted around the garden. They all came from my parents' house in Kent. There they were rampant, and once we had bought the house in France, if Mum was doing some gardening and found a few bulbs, she put them in a bucket for us to take away and plant here (you could do that pre-Brexit). Here they battle with irises and brambles and chickens and are not so rampant, but are always delightful when they bloom.
During one of the less lovely days last week, I started to scan old transparencies I found in my Mum's desk. Remember them? It always took about 4 goes to get each one correctly oriented in whatever viewer you were using, and of course some were good, in focus, well composed and with a good balance of light and colour, and some were not. They all date to before I was born - Dad gave up photography, and with his artistic talents with a pen or pencil, why bother indeed? I did find some fascinating ones of the winter before I was born, 1963, and the snow surrounding the cottage where the bluebells came from and where I grew up.
To keep pretty flowers out of the reach of the chickens (a k a feathered vandals), we put things in pots and planters. Sometimes the chickens get in and then they are all destroyed, but some things survive, including this rather pleasing variegated periwinkle. We top up the soil with used tea leaves and tea bags, which is why the contents of the container look a bit weird, but only one chicken likes to eat tea bags.
With spring comes all the rutting and flirting and hormones that Nature uses to ensure species continue. The bird song at the moment is incredible for example, and in the evening the cuckoo is incessant. The local feral cats are also around posing and trying it on with anything that moves. We had two boys in the next garden over singing the Song of their People very loudly until we went to throw something at them. So a timely reminder - if you have cats, please ENSURE THEY ARE NEUTERED. These boys are likely to end up under a car while in thrall to their hormones, and also make a horrid smell. The photo of the two boys in question is not very clear, so to illustrate this bit, I offer a photo of a neutered male cat, Monsieur Clause, one of the Boys in the Country, suitable edited to cover his shame, because he does like rolling around on his back on any surface.
The weather broke rather on Thursday evening and we have had perhaps 8 millimetres of rain since then, as well as grey skies and colder temperatures. We have also had the amusing phenomenon of pollen rain. The colza (or rape) is currently in full bloom. It is dramatically and almost artificially yellow, and produces an awful lot of pollen, as any allergy sufferer knows. When it rains, the pollen gets stuck on rain drops and then falls to the ground, where it accumulates as the water runs away or evaporates. This is in the centre of town so some 4 kilometres from the nearest field in full flower.
While the unbroken sunshine we basked in for 10 days was lovely, for a really interesting sunset, you need cloud as something for the sun's rays to bounce off as it sinks into the west. This was a rather lovely example from earlier in the week.
Well it would appear that America has woken up and it is now taking ages to load photos and they take a few goes to get right. So it is clearly time to stop, and go and have some lunch, and hear about a nice old man, who died after meeting an American...
Have a good week!