Rural Life

A lot going on

As I did my last blog early, this is the first one since both election results are known.  While there seems to be a wind of change in the UK, and likely for the better, or as much as can be done for the better with no funding, here in France we face stagnation and insecurity until people grow up and learn to play nicely together.  With the sane elements refusing to work with far right or far left, both of whom are chucking teddies out of prams and saying it is all unfair, we could have a long wait - in any case until September, when they might remember what the tax payers pay them for.  Of course I gather Belgium runs rather well when there is no one in charge and that could be the same here!

At the local level, things are challenging but for different reasons.  So far in July we have had 61mm rain - which is more than we usually get in the whole month.  This is actually quite good for some of the flowers, which are lasting longer in the cooler, wetter conditions.  While there aren't as many flowers as usual on my agapanthus, I have been enjoying them now for a week and they look like they will last longer too.

My "black" day lilies are looking rather magnificent too, while the star gazer in the background is lasting well as well, so it's not all bad.

The garlic crop is something of a disaster.  I planted the first lot of cloves not long after the shortest day (the traditional garlic planting day) and harvested them yesterday, so well after the shortest day, but the best are the size of marbles and others are smaller.  We did have one as part of yesterday's dinner, and it was very tasty, but it took ages to peel all 12 cloves, each the size of a grain of rice.  The shallots will be fine for pickling, but not much else sadly.

The onions are a different story.  I lifted the red ones yesterday, as the tops had mostly collapsed and the ground is very wet, so best not to let them sit and fester.  Normally the best I get is about the size of a pingpong ball, but this year there are several that are much more meaty.  The white onions will need to be lifted in a week or so, and they are looking even better.

I've also been lifting the first row of potatoes I planted - they are second earlies so ready to start eating now, and with the damp conditions I am getting a smidge paranoid about blight setting in.  I was particularly pleased with today's haul from one plant, which will provide three meals for us this week I think.

While I was away, Jack the Ripper shuffled off this mortal coil and went to the chicken run in the sky.  That is the second one this year, but not surprising as they have a limited life span and we haven't restocked for a while.  As we were down to one laying hen, (Mac the Knife), (the freeloading bantam and Auntie Mo the retired sponger not doing anything useful other than eating slugs and annoying the cats) I was given permission to acquire three new hens.  We were a bit late to the market, so I didn't have much choice, but I got the last speckled hen and two brown ones, one of which is darker than the other so I might tell them apart.  There was a white one, but I only spotted her when my three were removed as she was happy to be sat on by all the others.  I don't think that is a good sign, certainly not when they have to co-exist with cats.  So anyway, I carried home a cardboard box filled with the Marx sisters - Groucho the speckled, Chico the dark and Harpo the pale.

They should start laying in about three weeks or so, and for the moment seem to be behaving themselves.  Rebus the kitten has taken it upon himself to keep a very good eye on them, and make sure they don't to anything too stupid.  The other residents of the chicken run regard them with horror most of the time.

Today is the Fête Nationale (never Bastille Day), and to honour that, the Tour de France is making the cyclists go up a very steep mountain to finish today's stage in the Pyrenees.  It seems only fair that I go and watch them suffer for my entertainment and celebrate all things French.

Have a good week!
 

A trip to the old country

It was 14 months since my last visit to the UK, specifically England, and I really hadn't missed anything very much.  Not the vile state of the roads and always being on the look out for potholes, not the traffic jams, nor the non-traffic jams to the British, which were for me a nightmare as well, not the prices, nor really most of the things on the supermarket shelves.  Favourite shops had gone, cashpoint machines were hard to find, while talcum powder and Caramac were gone it seemed! 

But what I had missed, and what I was able to stock up on was time with friends.  The joy of chatting into the night with people I have known for over 30 years in some cases, was immense.  Catching up with old friends and making a few new ones is time well spent.  Even time with my accountant, who I have worked with for 20 years, was great, and nice to be greeted with a hug and a kiss too!  A highlight of my first evening, which was up in the West Midlands, was going out for an Indian meal "just round the corner" - yes, somewhere we could walk to after a civilised G&T in their garden!  I was particularly impressed by the pickle tray that arrived with the poppadoms.

The following day, there was a depressing visit to my old home town, Worcester, before an even more depressing 3 hours on the M25, but when you get to East Sussex and a view like this over green fields, it makes up for it!

The next day was London and the primary reason for my visit.  I will write in more detail about the show in my other blog, but suffice it to say that while there was no publicity beforehand, on Friday 28 June, the Tate finally launched this page about a fascinating exhibition.

From the Tate, a relatively short taxi ride took my brother and me to The George at Southwark for a restorative drink and light lunch.  I follow The Gentle Author, who writes mainly about east London, and frequently has engravings and old photos of coaching inns from the past, so walking into their courtyard was for me like walking into a piece of the Bishopsgate Institute picture library.

Once appetites had been dealt with, it was a short walk to London Bridge station for a train back to the relative civilisation of Kent.  The Shard dominates that area of London now, but the Station itself has a nice bit of modern art for those looking up rather than at their smart phones.

Tonbridge High Street is as unlovely as I remember it from my childhood, but does at least have a branch of Poundland (other similar brands are available).  They didn't have any of the final bars of Caramac available to purchase - a truly sad moment for me!  There are a couple of points of interest however - Tonbridge Castle and also The Chequers Inn with its noose where Wat Tyler's brother was hanged many years ago.  The Chequers is of course named for the tree, also known as Common Service, which has berries that can be used for brewing beer if other, more palatable, ingredients are not available.

Saturday was spent travelling, arriving home in the early hours of Sunday, I was fit for little more than hammock time during the day, before the shock, or rather shocking, results of the first round of French parliamentary elections.  The second round is this Sunday, and I fear I will need to write a blog to explain how that all pans out after that.

And no, that isn't me in the hammock being tended to by Spooky Cat.  I have a hammock chair which I find bizarrely comfortable, and was wallowing in that instead.

This blog is being written in advance, as we are being social this weekend, and I won't have time to wrestle with the internet.  By the time you read this, the UK election results will be out, and France will be voting.  Enjoy what you can!

 

Could it get worse?

Well that was a mostly cool and damp week, but there were some compensations.  A novelty for the village is finally an alternative to the boulangerie that closed back in 2020 - a depot de pain, or bread drop-off, based around the village bar.  They have baguettes and bread, and if you want croissants or similar, you can order the day before.  First we tried the baguette on Monday and found it to be good.  Then we ordered croissants for Thursday morning, and were able to have a coffee and eat our croissants on the terrace in the sun, before it started to rain again.  This has added a whole new dynamic to our week we feel.

We have also had storms this week, including a humdinger on Wednesday, or rather two humdingers.  The first hit while I was in the Comité des Fêtes barn with a couple of chums working on the float for the Comice in August.  There were only three of us, not least as two were working hard on steaming off the last vestiges of last year's decorations from the corner posts, and you can't work with crèpe paper when there is steam in the air. 

I took the opportunity to design most of the missing panels.  Anyway, we were kind of stuck in the barn, as a storm started up at about 3:20pm and didn't leave us alone until about 4:45pm, at which point we scattered off to our different homes, ready for the next one.  That was a long and loud one too, and caused a lot of damage to crops and the roads not so very far away.

We had more rain on Thursday, Friday and early Saturday morning, but now it seems to have stopped for a day or two, to allow us to recover and take stock.  I did some of that yesterday - the shallots had basically collapsed, and I feared the worst - white rot.  Fortunately that doesn't seem to have been the case, just lack of sun and a decision on their part to give up on a bad job and try again next year (except I lift them and plant new stock each year).  I am hoping there are enough for two pots of pickled shallots for Christmas!

This week I was able to vote in a general election.  Not here in France sadly, as I am not a citizen - something I must try to sort out over the winter.  Instead I was able to take advantage of the change to the UK law that used to limit those living abroad to only having a vote for the first 15 years of absence.  Apparently after that we had no links to the UK - well apart from family, pensions, language, friends, potentially investments etc.  It was the one thing the last government changed that was a step in the right direction, so I have voted in the town where I was last registered to vote.  And it was good. 

There are elections due too here in France and the thing they have in common with the UK ones, is all the pundits asking "Why now?".  Of course if an election hadn't been called, they would have spent the summer saying "Why not now?".  In both instances, the rise of the Far (or Nasty) Right is a talking point at the very least.  The French elections seem to be based more on who can get through a day without making a total farce of their campaign.  The UK elections seem to be about whether the Conservatives get more seats than the Lib Dems, or if they can even beat the spoiled ballot papers in some areas.  How utterly depressing!  Much better to focus on nice things, like flowers.

In both elections, nature, the state of the planet and the environment seem to be at the bottom of the agenda.  Perhaps because the TV pundits are all urban types who are more concerned with where to find the best coffee, rather than whether it will be possible to grow coffee in future. 

We have left a few leeks to flower, more by accident that design, but they are very popular with the local insects, so clearly a good thing!

There is an even better photo with a bee in flight, which I am trying to load - one more try!

All of this blether means that intended subjects such as animal satisfaction and more details on the coypu will have to be tales for another day.  However I have loaded up new footage of a deer for you, having a go at a tree:

And another bit of film to show that the boar are still around:

And another with ducks, because ducks are happy fowl:

And there is so much more wildlife entertainment to come in the next few weeks! 

Have a good week!

 

The visit of the Olympic Flame

I generally don't do before 8am and certainly not before 7am, but sometimes you just have to make an exception, and the arrival of the Olympic Flame in Baugé en Anjou was one of those exceptions.  Our morning routine was rudimentary and the animals were fed with bad grace, before we were out of the front door before 8am and walking into town.  Neighbours might have gone in by motorbike and car, but really what is the point when you are celebrating sport?

We picked our spot at 8:15am but soon changed our minds as we realised we were on a cut through so that the cany could see the flame pass more than once, so headed further down the hill.

We stopped by a small café which had bits of Olympic tat on a table - we obviously took a flag and a postcard to mark the occasion.

There were also official Olympics shops in vans doing the rounds - we weren't tempted to stop them and buy something.

We wondered if it was going to be like the Tour de France with squadrons of helicopters overhead and a publicity caravan.  Well there wasn't much by way of helicopters or television, but there was a small publicity caravan - other soft drinks and financial establishments are available!

Security was tight - there were a lot of these blue vans in the cortege, before and after The Flame.  Spoiler alert - they look innocuous and the guys hanging out of the winder were smiley and lovely, but if you looked at them at the right angle, each one was packed with heavily armed anti-terrorist and mob cops.

And then it was the moment itself - The Torch Bearer and their company of protectors came through, smiling and waving and it was all very wonderful.

Once it had gone past, along with all the vans of security, the spare flames, the other torch bearers and motorcycle outriders, we walked down to the Olympic village, set up in the Place de Europe for the duration.  There was the biggest banner I've seen up, held in place by major agricultural engines, but just for the duration of the visit of The Flame.  Once that left for Montsoreau, the banner came down and the Olympic Village was given over to sport.

After a restorative coffee, we dared the Olympic Village and marvelled at the climbing wall brought in for the occasion, looked at a demonstration of padel for about 30 seconds, and then watched a demonstration of tumbling from a local gymnastics club, with some extremely good atheletes.  We suspect some of the older ones are hopefuls for the French team at this summer's Games.

After that, with somewhat sore feet, we took a longer but flatter and quieter route home, and flopped with a cup of tea for a while, before carrying on with our Tuesday.

It was well done and having missed all of the fun of London 2012, I'm very glad we went.  I've written this on the day, but I'm not publishing until the normal day, as Saturday sees the party for the volunteers who helped with last year's Comice in Vieil Baugé and I think I might be feeling a bit delicate on Sunday.  But more on that a week on, when we are into Summer.

 

Time for flowers

While the wisteria (which we don't have any of) is now over and the roses are getting ready to explode, the range of flowers out there at the moment is quite stunning.  For lovers of a light, fragrant honey, now is the season of the (false) acacia flowers that provide the nectar for honey.  The trees themselves are a pain - they have many, very sharp thorns and they spread rapidly by suckering.  They are regarded by many environmental groups in France as an invasive, non-native species and you can get help to get rid of them, if you weren't responsible for planting them in the first place.  The flowering season doesn't last long, but while it does, there are huge bundles of these lovely white flowers to be see all over the place, and they smell nice too.

A more traditional flower, and one familiar to everyone is the elderflower - beloved of cordial makers and an essential ingredient for elderflower champagne.  I've made it a few times over here, but the pressure in the bottles needs to be released at least twice a day as it is warmer than the UK at brewing time, and then you wonder, what's the point?  With good Saumur fizz easily available and local, why bother to make a substitute? Of course if you are partial to a Gloucester gin (one part gin to 3 to 4 parts elderflower champagne), then you have to make your own.  We wait for the berries and make a rich and healthy berry cordial that keeps colds, 'flu and Covid symptoms under control.

The wildflower meadow is near its best at the moment and humming with insects - in fact insect noise is louder than birdsong at times!  The oxeye daisies are coming out, the pink clover is at its best, the yellow trefoil is vibrant and there are also pockets of knapweed.  In a week or two, the bee orchids should also make an appearance, and there may be a blush of blue linseed too.  It isn't easy to photograph but here is a best attempt.

At the top of the wildflower meadow and underneath a walnut tree, there is a patch of posh irises.  They are always the last of this type to flower, probably because of being under the walnut tree, and are dramatic with white tops and nearly black bottoms.  I keep meaning to transplant a few to somewhere a bit less hidden away, perhaps I will remember to this summer!

When we had to let Fergus the ginger cat go, we went looking for a ginger coloured flowering shrub to remember him by.  At the time we were looking, the only thing that was really available was a rather splendid rose called Orange King.  The first year it had a couple of magnificent flowers, but since then it hasn't done as well as I would have hoped.  Probably as I don't keep the weeds down around it as much as I should.  This year it looks like we are going to get a splendid display in about 5 days time!

Another promise of things to come, is my flowering turmeric.  For the last couple of years, Aldi (other discount stores are available) has sold pots of flowering turmeric as an ornamental flower in around June or July.  Last year I succumbed to a pot as it was discounted, and had it on the outside dining table under the awning as a talking point.  It did extremely well too, with lots of growth and flowers.  When we took the awning down and there were threats of frost, I brought it indoors and put it in the bathroom, giving it a bit of water now and then.  Everything died down in the winter, and by mid-April I was seriously considering doing a forensic search of the contents of the pot before ditching it.  I'm glad I didn't, as during the week, first one, then a second and now four shoots are coming up in total.  Once the awning is back on the pergola, it can go outside again, and we can talk about it and hope for as many flowers as last year!

The computer has vetoed the photo of the flower pot, so I leave you with a photo of bunting, as everything is better with bunting.  This is for the Olympic Flame which arrives in Baugé on the 28th May, and we are getting very excited about that!

As Sunday is Trout Fishing Day here in Vieil Baugé, I am having another go at delayed posting.  Let's see if it works!

 

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.