Rural Life

Nature is in charge

Apologies for being a day late with the update - Easter visitors and fun took over yesterday and I hope you consider the wait worth it, as we are dealing with national news in a bit.

The week started fairly quietly, with a magnificent view of a full moon from the garden when I went to close up the chicken run.  This isn't to keep the wee darlings safe, as they sleep 4 foot off the ground on a suspended perch, but to ensure that they don't roam around the garden from first light, killing my plants more than they have to.

A couple of days later, we were treated to a magnificent sunset, with rich colours.  This is normally an autumn phenomenon, but we enjoy them whenever and aren't going to complain!

Spring has sprung and the cowslips and oxslips are looking fabulous in the Orchard, with the red and orange variants adding vibrancy to the mix.

So given all that mellowness, Storm Nelson was a bit of a downer, with winds whistling around the corners of the house and one of the sheets of metal on the chicken run roof deciding to submit to the forces of nature!  John had to miss a hot cross bun party in order to fix it and shelter the chickens from the worst of the rain.

But the big story is the flooding.  Not so much around us, although people did get caught out in Saumur as they foolishly left cars overnight on the quayside.  Yesterday was spent keeping an eye on a red alert on the River Vienne - a tributary of la Loire - running through Chinon.  Some reports were getting quite scary, and although the worst didn't happen, a few hundred people had to be evacuated from the part of the town to the south of the river.  As we were returning our visitor to Chinon, we had to go and have a look (it would be rude not to!).

The speed of the river and the height (5.3 metres at lunchtime) were dramatic, particularly by the old bridge in the centre of town.

In the direction of the Eifel bridge (yes, that Eifel), there is a "low road" to a village called Cravant.  Walking through the park by the river, it wasn't immediately obvious, but the river had taken the opportunity to sneak through a gap and fill up a road, blocking access to a community centre (not the one taking evacuees) and a driving school.

Back in early March, I wrote about flooding in Chinon here, with a fine photo of a Stop sign up to its waist in water.  Well the Stop sign itself was completely submerged, but the top of the higher sign just by it can be made out sticking out of the water here.

The height of the flood has now passed at Chinon and is heading for la Loire, where the peak is expected at Saumur at about midnight.  The Loire valley is so wide, it shouldn't cause too many problems now, but I saw that two further departments are on red flood alert, for tributaries of the Seine, so no doubt Paris will have a big flap about it all very soon. 

The moon will change in the next week and I hope that brings less rain, a bit of warmth to dry things out, and a chance to get into the garden and get the onions planted and the potato bed rotavated.  Things are starting to get a bit delayed!  Have a good week.

 

St Malo and the spring tides

Ramadan started last Sunday, when the moon was dark and new.  It is the new moon that helps create the great tides, the spring tides, the ones that create a Severn Bore and the ones that make the Mont St Michel an island again.  St Malo is just round a headland from the Bay of Mont St Michel, but in that geographical zone that sees some of the biggest tides in the northern hemisphere. 

I needed to get away for a few days for a change of scene and air, so it seemed only fair to go visit St Malo, one of my favourite places, and to do so when there are some of the highest tides of the 12 year cycle - a coefficient of 116 in fact (and if anyone can explain the calculations of tide coefficients, I would be grateful).  And a very high tide is generally followed by a very low tide (to get that big tide coefficient), which meant a lot of rockpools not normally seen, would be available for inspection.

The Intramuros of St Malo is on a rocky outcrop sticking out into the estuary of the Rance, surrounded by ramparts, with the port entrance guarded by forts, including more than one with a Vaubin influence.  Here is what it looks like when the tide is about half an hour off its height and has a coefficient of 113.

The fort is on the second island out.  Between the seagull and the white pole there is a vague piece of metal - that is the rail for the high diving board on the tidal swimming pool.  What swimming pool?  This one!

The first island (the Grand Bé) is a bit of a wildlife sanctuary and also has the tomb of the French poet Chateaubriand - yes, he is also famous for the steak and has a town named for his family, as he wasn't the first of that name.  The second island is the Petit Bé and has the Vaubin fort, and during periods of normal tides is not always accessible by foot, so wasn't a brilliant posting for soldiers in the past.  But on special days, you can get right out to it with no hint of damp on your feet (the Grand Bé is accessible at most low tides).

The rocks around the back of the Grand Bé, facing the fort are covered with mussels and oysters, as they are generally not 3 meters above the sea.  On that Wednesday, the difference between high and low tide was something around 14 meters.  The view of St Malo from the islands is lovely and shows the fortifications rather well.

St Malo is a working port.  There is a fishing fleet that goes out and when I was hovering around watching them bring in the catch, it was mainly scallops.  This is tightly regulated in terms of number of days, size of shell and size of catch.  Many go straight to the restaurants in the Intramuros (I had delicious scallops on a bed of leeks, with Mediterranean vegetables one night) and along the coast, including the Thermes Marin (a thalassotherapy centre).

I didn't know it at the time, and was lucky to capture it in a photo, but there was a rather novel ship in the main port.  Not the big orange thing, but the one with the tall masts - it is the first of a new fleet of cargo ships that take high end, low weight goods across the Atlantic using only wind power.  There has been one doing the circuit St Malo, the Lesser Antilles and New York for a few years, but only taking about 40 tonnes of goods.  This new one takes nearer 150 tonnes, if I remember the TV report correctly.  It left harbour while I was there.

Leaving St Malo on Friday morning to come home, I took the route along the coast road to Cancale, stopping a couple of times, including once at the Anse de Guesclin to admire the bay and the island.  With a beautiful sunny morning, mild weather and nearly alone, it was hard to tell I was in Brittany.  I could have been anywhere, even the Caribbean! 

So now I am home, with a cold nose and good hair thanks to all the fish I ate, well buffed joints from an afternoon of thalassotherapy, and hopefully a better attitude to life in general.  But the Breton influence isn't totally over - while checking over the Garden this morning, I discovered one of my cauliflower plants had decided it was Time!  So we picked this beauty and tomorrow I'll make a cheese sauce!

Next week there will be wildlife photos and news as one of the trail cameras has come home again.  Have a good week!

 

And if you thought last week was wet....

It rained last Sunday as I wrote last week's blog, it rained again on the Monday too.  On Tuesday, when I went over to Chinon for a visit, the fields by the autoroute were under water in many places, la Loire was full, but not dramatically so, but the Vienne was well over its banks and had closed quite a few roads.  When I was there, it was perhaps 4.3 metres over its usual level and hadn't reached its peak.  Fortunately for those in the area, it didn't reach the high end of the estimated flood levels and started to recede later on the Wednesday.

We were therefore interested to see what awaited us at la Flèche on Wednesday morning, when we were there for the market.  Parking was surprisingly easy, but I'm guessing that was an access issue.  Le Loir was seriously over its banks, with many riverside gardens flooded, the overspill carpark by the bus station underwater, and a number of roads flooded.  It was even more astounding that parking was easy, when one of the carparks right by the market was also underwater - I've never seen it that high there.  Perhaps half term made things easier.

With the rivers so high, it is only logical that our various ponds are also filling up.  The two main ponds at the bottom of The Orchard are doing wonderfully well - the level in the upper one is just at the limit of the overflow pipe (so it may well have been higher) while the lower one is at what I would call a sensible level.  With the winds on Thursday, we lost a chunk of one of the surrounding trees, which is now in the pond, and will need to be dealt with in due course.

Finally, yesterday we made it to the One Acre Wood and as expected, found the two small, ephemeral ponds there were full of water too.  They form in the pits dug to find clay for making tiles, and there are vague ditches that lead into them, but not the main ditches that mark the boundaries of our piece of land.  When these ponds form, they are a magnet for newts and salamanders.  Yesterday the upper pond was totally still, today both pond surfaces shivered with the antics of either marsh gas or hidden amphibians doing their thing.  You can also see a wild animal trail going to the right of the pond, and there is now a discrete trail camera keeping an eye to see who visits.  I'm not totally hopeful - the last time we had a trail camera there, it caught a chaffinch and that was it.

The pack of three new cameras has arrived, and one is now installed by the ponds at the bottom of The Orchard, a place that has always put on a good show.  Another is at the One Acre Wood, while the third did a sterling job showing us who was eating all the cat food we put out for the Barn Cats.  It was pleasing to see that in the main, it was the three boys eating it, but there are two others who are popping in of an evening for a good feed.  One we know as Minnie the Moocher, the other is a big fluffy thing we do not know.  Anyway, mystery solved and the spare camera is here, waiting for my next inspiration.

Today is sunny and not raining.  It is really too wet to do anything too useful in most places, although the portion of the wildflower Meadow that John has decided will be an asparagus bed was actually fine to rotavate today.  I'm not planting shallots or onions until we have had a couple of mainly dry weeks (which looks possible after Wednesday), but I could lift the last carrots and parsnips, along with a couple of leeks, so I can spend tomorrow making soup for the freezer.  There are also signs of rhubarb from one of the crowns we have, so that also inspires us.

Today we allowed Rebus the Psychokitten out into the garden for a bit of a run - he is so full of energy and just needs to run, perhaps he is in fact half whippet?  The chickens aren't totally happy with us, while Bridie the Freeloading Bantam has taken to a high perch in disgust.  Such is life!

 

Changes for the New Year

Happy New Year!

Good health, a bit of joy in every day and may your feathers not all fall out at once!  We have four chickens and a bantam and we haven't seen an egg in weeks - I actually had to buy some yesterday, as we didn't have enough to make an emergency omelette if we needed to.  Bridie the Freeloading Bantam only lays when she thinks the weather is going to be right for some serious brooding, and winter is not that time.  Mo the Pensioner hasn't laid an egg since she came to stay until the day of her demise.  Well, she looks no different after nearly 2 years and hasn't fallen off her perch.  The economic migrant kept laying last winter, but gave up in March 2023 and hasn't produced an egg since - although she now looks rather splendid.  That means that all the laying work has been done by Mac and Jack, and they have decided to go on strike and to produce new feathers rather than eggs.  One is starting to look a bit more sensible, but I was faced with this horror this morning when feeding them.  It has to be cold round her bum!

Another change for the new year is that it has finally stopped raining!  We were down near Saumur during the week, stocking up on fizz, because a house round here without an emergency bottle of fizz is a very bad thing.  We parked by the Thouet, which joins la Loire just west of Saumur, coming up from Montreuil-Bellay and over the border with Nouvelle Aquitaine.  It had broken its banks in an impressive manner and was travelling at speed, feeding into an already swollen Loire, so respite from more rain is welcome.  However, be careful what you wish for, as it is turning colder, much colder.  Colder indeed than we have known for about 5 years apparently.

Cold weather anticyclones bring an interesting phenomenon, not totally pleasant, cold weather static cling.  It is annoying if one is human - it's what makes wearing a hat and taking it off and having your hair upright a thing in winter.  Yes it would happen anyway, but the cold static cling makes it worse, and crackly to deal with.  For cats, and particularly quite floofy cats, it is a sartorial nightmare and can be a bit uncomfortable too.  This morning, Spooky obliged me with a demonstration of how rather smart black fur can look horrific in these conditions.

My way of life is changing a bit too.  With no more work in the UK, I am now able to concentrate more on doing what I have been evaluating other people doing for nearly 10 years, and managing an area for wildlife.  I am hoping to get a visit from the naturalists that take an interest in the ENS (roughly translated as the area of natural interest) that just encroaches on the Meadow and the Orchard.  How to manage the pond/wetland area is one big question, not least as it is impenetrable due to bramble and dead man's beard, and I'm sure that allowing a greater diversity of vegetation would be better for wildlife.  What to do about the meadow, with the range of orchids that sometimes thrive there, the badgers and the sea of butterflies including one that I think is a species of conservation interest for the ENS?  Then getting a plan of action and seeing it through.  I fear my big fish are history, but you never know!

In the interim, I will enjoy the irises, that are just starting to show, and the narcissi, when they come through too.

On the growing front, there are the first signs of the broad beans coming up that I sowed in December.  Today I took advantage of a bit of sunshine to plant a first batch of garlic - as I'm a bit late with it, I had to buy a huge bag of planting garlic and have found space so far for about half.  They say you plant on the shortest day and lift on the longest day - well I missed the shortest day by about three weeks I guess, but it shouldn't make that much difference.  I'm prepared to wager 5 grown bulbs that I lift the crop before the end of June!

Our cheap electricity deal means that for the next week, we won't be able to afford heating in my office (when load demand is high, the unit price is three times normal, as a way of smoothing demand - when load demand is low we can light up the house like a prison yard).  Running the washing machine becomes a challenge and life is concentrated in the living room.  In preparation for the red day that is tomorrow, I must therefore close and go and use electricity in a wise manner.  Have a cosy week!

 

A look back at 2023

Happy New Year's Eve!

I thought I would review the year, reprising my favourite photos from this blog, one for each month of the year.  Sometimes it was quite hard to select one, but I was hard hearted, particularly about stripy piglets!  So here goes.

In January, the trail camera was well placed by the ponds to track the activities of the animals that use the back path, as well as the hunters who seem to think it is their god given right to go through there as well.  Daylight photos were better, and this one picked up wonderful detail of the young stag's face.

Our annual truffle fest was a bit later than usual, in February, but we made the most of the 100g of black gold that John ordered up from further south.  While I photographed every dish I made with it, this one reminded me the most of the wonderful flavours.

By March, the trail camera had been moved to The Garden, as we had spotted some rather large holes and wanted to know what was doing the rounds.  This was important as it is where we have our kitchen garden area, and we don't need badgers digging up our prized potatoes or deer sampling tomatoes or corn.  The holes were down to rats - hardly surprising in farming territory - but the camera stayed for a while to enjoy the antics of Mr and Mrs Woody Woodpecker, chasing the last of the walnuts among other tasty morsels.

In April, our patience finally paid off and we were able to harvest the first of 6 cauliflowers.  There is a lot of argument here in the expat community as to why cauliflowers are so expensive when they can be purchased for under a pound at Tescos (other supermarkets are available).  Well, these beauties had been in the ground taking up a lot of space for 7 months, should have been fed, should have been netted against cabbage white butterflies, and are very particular about what soil they will tolerate!  I think cauliflowers are cheap at 5 euros, given the required effort and investment.

By May, the trail camera had moved again, this time to a higher up path between two walnut trees.  We captured images and video of a coypu, which we weren't delighted to find rambling around the area, and the back heels of deer as they passed through at speed.  My favourite of the resident animals also came through quite a lot - the hare - I just love them!

After a long wait, June brought the bee orchids into flower.  With a phone camera, it can be a bit tricky getting the flower in focus, but for once it worked.

In July, we started to get smug about the potential parsnip and carrot crop - I had sown a long row, with parsnips every 6 inches or so and then carrots quite thickly in between.  My thinking was that parsnips are slow to germinate and in the ground for ages; carrots don't germinate that well either, but are eaten long before the parsnips need the space and the nutrients.  Well we are still eating both in December (and frankly into January next year too), but it worked well and I've never grown such good carrots, and not grown such long parsnips for over 20 years!

August was all about the Comice in Vieil Baugé - while there had been lots of preparations since the start of the year, painting panels with music and with dancers, painting dancers on piles of hay bales and making and stringing up bunting, August was the final push and the event itself.  The rain on the Friday night and early Saturday morning meant that it was an anxious time getting the podium ready for the first speeches of the day, but we did it!

And then it was all over and September had to be devoted to dealing with the mass of fruit at every turn - pears, plums, quince, apples and figs.  We actually had more figs and better figs than we have ever had before. I made loads of jam, we ate loads raw, and then I also made a rather good piquant fig sauce which has been wonderful with foie gras (if you like that sort of thing).

An experiment that dominated the year, was growing the tropical fruit cristophine.  Although a fruit and looking a bit like a bumpy, prickly pear, it is actually used as a vegetable, and grows from a ripe fruit.  You can't actually take out the pip and expect it to grow, you have to sacrifice a whole fruit so it has nutrients to get it going.  If it is happy, and ours was very happy, it grows enormous!  Ours was perhaps 20 feet in every direction from the growing point, at its height in October.  It is also very productive and I think we eventually got nearly 50 viable fruits off it, weighing roughly 400 grammes each.

In November, we added to our cat family.  It wasn't intentional, but when a small and rather cute little fellow bounces around the garden, and then looks very sorry for itself when wind and rain come in, I can't really turn my back.  Facebook searches and a vet check didn't produce a registered owner, so we adopted young Rebus, who is really rather a sweet little boy, albeit with some very pointy bits (teeth and claws). 

He is a lot bigger now! 

So December is nearly out.  Christmas Eve was notable for magnificent sunsets all across north west France at the very least.  As much of the month has been dull, grey and wet, this was a wonderful moment to cherish and record.  Earlier in the day, we had been able to fly one of our kites and enjoy blue skies, but the display at teatime was more impressive.

Tomorrow is a new year, and for me something of a change, as I become a pensioner and will have to use my time constructively.  I don't believe in New Year resolutions as I believe they are mostly borne of self-loathing (get fit, get thin, stop this, stop that) and set you up to fail.  Instead I hope to have targets to achieve in the year, but they still need a bit of refinement to make sure they are S M A R T!

A very Happy 2024 to you, with hopes of peace, prosperity, love and freedom.

 

I gather the winter solstice is on Friday 22nd and then the days will start to get longer - it can't come too soon this time!  While there is a certain Christmas joy doing the rounds, with the pub reopened and some lovely window displays, plus the Christmas Fayre in Baugé that is just coming to an end, and some lovely lighting decorations around the place, the hours of darkness are getting to me.  Yesterday was beautiful, with clear blue skies, but today we were back to the old grey and dank conditions which weigh on the spirits.

The wise women of the Baugeois tend to say that the weather will change for the better when the moon changes.  Like I say, yesterday was a lovely sunny day, and you could just see the new moon as we went out to the pub, but today dawned (eventually) cold and overcast, and the cloud hasn't really lifted as promised.  Still I did prepare a bed for broad beans (which included digging up a forgotten clump of potatoes) and then sowed a whole packed of Aquadulce Claudia broad beans, to give something to look forward to in about May next year.

During the week we had another dull day (well more than one, if I'm honest), but we also got a gleam of late sunlight, which meant a stunning rainbow appeared above the Christmas decorations in the village.  While the photo doesn't do it justice, it was a lovely thick one, and was spotted from quite a way around.

On Fridays I always go out and about to visit in Chinon and Azay le Rideau.  The other thing about this autumn and early winter is the amount of rain, and therefore the amount of water there is around.  I couldn't get a photo of the Indre at Azay le Rideau, but I could see that many of the lawns at the Chateau d'Islette (former love nest of Rodin) were submerged as I drove by.  It was a different matter at Chinon.  As I arrived at the St Luand end of the town, I was able to stop and photograph badly the width of the river, where it had gone over the far bank and spread into the meadows beyond.

In Chinon itself, once I had parked up, I was able to walk along the riverside and admire the spectacle.  A lone paddleboarder was working his way up against the flow, and having to stay as close into the bank as he could, so as not to be swept away.  There is normally much more daylight between the river and the arches of the bridge.

I tend to park in the Place Jeanne d'Arc in Chinon - it's free and unless there is a funfair camped out there, you can usually find a space.  It is dominated by a massive equestrian statue of Joan of Arc, donated to the town by the sculptor over a hundred years ago.  While there is a rumour that he asked for payment and was refused, I tend to wonder what Chinon did to him to make him offer them this "gift".

Special, isn't it?

Anyway, sadly Christmas cards aren't writing themselves, so I will leave you contemplating this work of art and wish you a good week.

 

First days of winter

Yes, alarmingly it is now meteorological winter, and the year is really slipping away.  On a happier note, in about 3 weeks, the days will start to get longer, but we have the three cold months to get through now.  The area has got its Christmas decorations out promptly this year - to do with Baugé being a Pettit Cité de Charactère and they are collectively looking to brighten up people's lives.  What has livened up our village rather more is that the pub reopened last night after a closure of nearly 18 months.  New leaseholders, new décor, new name (not sure about that) and hopefully a new attitude towards the establishment from the locals.  The local mayor was pretty blunt when he announced that a taker had been found - use it or lose it!  Let's hope people take that to heart!  I took a photo at the opening night but it was truly awful, so here is the Christmas Tree instead.

On the sunny days this week, I have been determined to go out for a walk and admire the area.  On Wednesday morning, I was up at la Flèche for the market, and le Loir was looking particularly attractive after the recent floods.  Sadly I can't load up the photo of that - not at all sure why!

Later on Wednesday - as it really was so beautiful out - I went for a walk around the village.  I went part way up what is often called the Roman Road, and it may well be.  It is straight, making no apology for the gradient of the hill, and is well buried into the hillside, with tall oaks and chestnuts at ground level.  Half way up, when the water table is high enough, a spring follows the line of the path for some distance, so I only went as far as the mud from that, before turning back to the village.

I made my way down the hill and took the road to the Pont de Godot - yes, really you can go and wait for him there, but he never shows up!  The river splits into two arms upstream towards the town, and the water looks clear and bright and is flowing rapidly at the moment in both arms, apart from where measures are in place to slow the flow.

From the bridge the view up to the church shows the relative height of the hill and the thoroughly twisted nature of the spire.  It can be seen from quite a distance, if you know where to look!

Other days have not been so sunny and crisp, and have also been filled with distractions such as battling customs forms and websites to send a parcel, the French health service and finding an electrician.  Rebus the kitten spends much of his time trying to eat me, and when he isn't doing that, he is asleep and growing.  The slow descent to the "Festive Period" makes me less likely to do anything useful, and more inclined to sit under a rug in front of the TV with a pot of tea and a chewy kitten.  However, I need to give myself a metaphoric kick in the pants and design a Christmas card, write a Christmas letter, and more importantly, undertake the necessary steps to close my business and structure my retirement.

Here's hoping for some motivation sometime next week!

 

 

It's become cold!

Yes, we have finally had our first frosts.  I have a dim memory of this week back in perhaps 1969 or so when it snowed, and I also remember trying to drive through Flers in Normandy and negotiating drifts six inches deep, so it shouldn't be surprising that we have had two white frosts now.  Of course the cold makes everything very clear and crisp as we settle into a winter anticyclone.  That can make taking photographs a bit tricky.  This one of the turret on the back of the chateau in Baugé came out very nicely.

It was rather more difficult to get a decent shot of this hidden piece of the old town wall and turret, not least as I was down a narrow lane, with little room for manoeuvre.  The contrast with the light is really too harsh.

The weather brings out magnificent sunsets but they bring their own challenges when taking photos - this one worked OK.

The crisp clear air and frost makes it much easier to see the nests of the vile pine processionary caterpillar - last year we didn't have many, but this year this poor tree is riddled with them.  I now need to invest in attracting great tits to the garden as they are the only predator that will take the revolting things on.  I am anti pine processionaries as I am sensitive to their spines, while they can do really nasty things to cats and dogs.  They are a non-native invasive species, brought in with lumber in the past and have spread across the country.

The frosts have finally done for the cristophine vine, and it now looks very sad and ugly.  We will have to unpick it from the frame and compost all that vegetable material, and then feed up the area with manure and organic matter, as the frame is too solid to move to a different spot for next year.  John cut out the last large fruit yesterday, which had got itself well integrated into the netting and had started to sprout.  It will likely be the parent of next year's vine, although there is a spare if needed.

With the autumn and the very short days, farmers are more limited in what they can do - although I have seen quite a bit of twilight ploughing going on recently.  But give a French farmer a bit of thinking time, and their thoughts turn to their grievances and how to get their message across effectively.  Sometimes it's calendars with scantily clad peasants, sometimes it is taking large piles of lettuce and setting fire to them (never entirely sure how that works), sometimes it is dumping large piles of manure in supermarket parking areas (and removing every last trace at the end of the day as it is too good to waste), or spraying slurry on things.  This year, protests have taken a new turn, literally.  They are out in the evenings turning village signs upside down.  It is done carefully, and the markers are still there and easy to see (the village name sign is the start of the 50kmph limit for built up areas, so it is important), but they are upside down.

The argument is that French agricultural policy is upside down as the constraints put on local farmers are such that their products are more expensive than cheap imports from countries without limitations on the use of chemicals, fertilisers, a lower minimum wage for seasonal workers, lower husbandry standards, etc and while people say they want farmers to work to these high standards, they are not prepared to pay the extra so that the farmers can live from their work.  So they want a land free of pesticides, but won't pay the necessary premium for organic produce.  They have a point - Solidarity!!

Well, it is jolly cold in the non-heated extremities of the house, so I am going to call it a day and head for the fireside.  Rebus the kitten is doing well, is a bundle of energy and is going through the rather annoying teething stage - my hands are taking the brunt of it at the moment.  It won't last - or that's what I tell myself.

 

Budget bulbs and the Tour de France

I don't follow much sport nowadays - I used to spend much of the summer in front of the TV watching test cricket, but the sell out to Sky and the move to France scuppered that.  The French aren't quite so intent on giving over mainstream TV to sport on a weekly basis but there are a few events that they go nuts for.  Obviously key football tournaments come into that category, as does Six Nations Rugby and I imagine that as host of the Rugby World Cup later this year, that will be wall to wall too. 

There are two events that I follow with a passion though - the Dakar Rally during the first couple of weeks of January, and the Tour de France during the first three weeks of July in general.  We are on day 9 now, and a day where the stage finish is at altitude, finishing with 4.3km of 11% climb going up the Puy du Dome sometime near 6pm French time.  I need to watch!  The area is interesting as it has been blocked off from visitors and spectators as a nature reserve, so my usual chuntering about why stupid people jump out in front of the riders will not apply today.

This is the end of the stage.

We are currently enjoying lots of flowers, including dramatic summer bulbs bought from the Pound Shop in England when such things were allowed, and also from Aldi.  They provide a bit of drama at a period when many of my favourite flowers are coming to an end.

Today at the potager, I lifted the shallot crop - rather disappointing given the size and quality of the start bulbs, but they will make a good couple of pots of pickled shallots which are rather nice with cheese and cold meat.  I transplanted into the space they left, some little gem lettuces that we had set off in a seed bed and were far too close together to do any good.  I'm hopeful as the soil is quite moist, but nothing ventured, nothing gained as they say!

Anyway, I've got a report to write, so just a short update this week. 

 

All quiet here in our bit of rural France

Well, I say all quiet, but the countryside is rarely quiet.  There are frogs that make the most awful noises, sometimes just for the fun of it.  There are birds, so many birds, so many different songs, from the eerie cry of a buzzard having fun on the thermals, to the quiet but intense song of a robin - it sounds so melodic and sweet, but I think in the main they are saying "b*gger off, we want to explore where you are for a feed".  Annoyingly, after the quiet of lockdowns, there are planes, all sizes and at all different heights, from the air force boys who went over at about 200 feet last weekend, through the light aircraft from the local aerodrome, to the jets up high taking people to and from Scandinavia and Portugal. 

But this week it has been the Moisson - the grain harvest, with the combines out in the fields of wheat and barley, followed by tractors and massive trailers to take the grains, then more tractors with bailers to turn the straw into vast wheels, and finally lifts and more tractors with the big trailers to take those round bales away into storage.  It doesn't stop for weekends or lack of light - once conditions are right, the competition and demand for the machines is such that they are on the move 24/7, and bad luck if you are near where they are working overnight!!

Last weekend was fiercely hot and humid too - with temperatures up over 30ºC by lunchtime and not below again until after 6pm.  Two days of it was enough to undo the good that the rain the week before had done to the ponds, and sadly at least one of my fish has expired (no photo required).  It also blasted the ripe broad beans from the second sowing, and as it was too hot to pick them, they too got fried.  We rescued some beans and have sown them in some land that needs a bit of green manure, but whether that will work remains to be seen.  It was a disappointment.  The photo shows the fried out pods along with three carrots from the perpetual rounds of thinning them out, with one almost worth eating!

On a more positive note, and surprisingly with the cooler weather, I spotted a couple of my favourite butterflies yesterday - two swallowtails were enjoying a quick snack on the buddleia.  They are often found on lavender round here, but I've not seen them enjoying the buddleia before.  Of course it was pretty impossible to get close to them so these two photos are the best I could manage.

There was also some fruit!  Yesterday while doing the rounds, I spotted that the mirabelles were ripe, so went back for a bowl and picked all that I could, leaving those with a bit of damage or rot for the local critters, but for once getting some for us.  Enough for a 4 portion mirabelle crumble - wowzers!

We have not been responsible for any looting or destruction, but we have found evidence that it has been going on.  This year's thrush anvil is surrounded by empty and broken shells and it is hard to spot the stone that is being used.  I do love this as a sight, as I am very fond of the thrushes, and they do a good job.  Apart from a couple of well munched tomato plants, so far we haven't had any major snail damage this year to small plants, and this is why!

I like black flowers - I know they aren't natural in this part of the world, but i really enjoy them, even if they aren't really jet black.  This year I succumbed to temptation and bought an exotic petunia (just the one) called Black Glitter - the glitter effect comes from tiny white flecks on the flowers - you can't see that from a distance, but you can admire how happy it is in its beer barrel.  Another that is happy in its beer barrel is my black day lily - this really is stretching the definition but it is how it was sold to me!

• 
• 

Not quite the grapes of wrath, but certainly very happy grapes and magnificent bunches on our vine this year.  Any marks are due to them being brushed past by a car as we drive into the courtyard.  The vine is loaded with them, so I am looking forward to making large quantities of grape jelly - no point making your own wine around here when you can buy excellent professionally-made wine en vrac (not bottled) for 2,80€ a litre!  Also these aren't wine grapes, but table grapes, although with pips so not polite eating grapes.  The chickens love them too.

On a serious note, the riots in the urban centres are frightening and disappointing.  Looting a carton of milk from your local convenience store that won't open for a while now as the owner tries to repair the damage, and your family have to find the money to travel to another, more distant shop is insane.  Similarly trashing and burning down the youth centre where you happily spend time in the winter and during the long holidays makes no sense.  It has nothing to do with the death of a young man, driving a Polish registered car in a bus lane without insurance or a valid drivers licence, and sadly paying for such minor delinquency with his life.  A minority of people are destroying holidays, livelihoods, neighbourhoods, reputation and ensuring that festivities people have been looking forward to for ages are cancelled.  I hope it stops soon.

Ideally by next weekend, if not sooner!  Have a good week!