Rural Life

Summer Reflections 6 - harvests and sunsets

We are into September, but these last few days, it hasn't felt like it with hot and sticky conditions and often cloudless skies.  Harvesting has been going on apace, and our garage smells magnificent at the moment as there are 150 kilos of ripe quince in there, waiting for a slot at the juicing plant.  Quince juice isn't something you would happily drink on its own, but add sugar and time and the skills of the distillery and it makes a very delicious eau de vie.  I've also set off a large jar with a shredded quince, a bit of sugar and about 50cls of quince eau de vie to make a very special quince liqueur.  Quince is a good remedy against the winter stomach bug that does the rounds (my excuse, I'm sticking to it).  Tomorrow I will start to make quince jelly.

We have two barrels of fizzing and burping fruit at the moment, even before we get the quince one going.  There is a plum one - deep maroon and brooding; and a pear one - the colour doesn't merit description and it is like the surface of an uneasy volcano.  Both smell sweet and interesting though.

The badgers in the wildflower meadow are clearly bringing in stores for the winter - there is a dusty trail through the dead stems and a lot of sand by the set entrance.

Those days where there has been a bit of cloud in the evening, we have seen some dramatic and colourful sunsets.  Well, I have to walk down a path to the boule de fort car park to see them as the Bungalow of No Merit is now in the way.  In previous years, we have admired from the living room and bedroom windows.  Anyway, new local order, but glorious skies to gaze at in wonderment.  My photos don't do them justice, but enjoy anyway!

Summer ends on 22nd September apparently.

 

Summer Reflections 5 - it's nearly autumn

There are storms in the UK and we are due temperatures below 20ºC at the weekend - summer is definitely on its way out. 

During the summer we had the migrants from the south - swifts, swallows and house martins - who made each day special with their aerobatics and their song, loud and strident for the swifts, soft and bubbling for the swallows and martins.  We also had the migrants from the north - friends with second homes in the area, finally allowed across the Channel to enjoy their other homes and gardens and breathe a bit more freely in our rural paradise.

The UK Government-imposed quarantine on the whole of France (other governments do localised ones, which seems a bit more sane) saw the northern migrants flee home, with no real idea of when they can come back "officially".  There are still a few stragglers for whom quarantine holds limited fear, although insurance might be a bigger issue.  The weather and the seasons mean our other migrants are heading back south.  It is a couple of weeks since I heard the shriek of a swift, and the swallows are grouping up and heading off slowly now: we won't see them again until March or April next year.

This year the drift to autumn feels sadder than usual - normally there is a gentle melancholy once the Comice is over, knowing that days are getting shorter and cooler and wetter.  This year it feels more stark.  There are no Comices due to Covid, and in a normal year, every weekend in September is taken up with some event or other (mechoui, Patrimoine, forum des associations, the Bake Off, the volunteers' picnic), this year events are few and far between.  The forum des associations goes ahead with no demonstrations, food or drink and patrimoine will happen, but rather reduced and with less fanfare.  And then nothing.

We all sit and wait to see what the Second Wave will be like.  It will be important to seek out the small discoveries that make life more joyous - I might have to start a new blog series on that!

In the meantime here are photos of the new windmills at Chigné, not yet commissioned and some nutters are trying to get them removed via judicial review!  Also a photo of an unhappy carp - the oxygen levels in the public lake don't seem quite right for it, and a nice view of the church and a dramatic sunset.

Summer reflections 3 - love and lighting

It's been an interesting week here in rural France.  Holiday makers and second home owners are starting to arrive, as is Covid-19, although Anjou is not as badly affected as Brittany or PACA, we have moved from green to amber on RAG ratings.  The tourism season meant that there was an added attraction at the market last Saturday, as local authors did a book signing session - mostly wearing masks.

While the start and end of the week were hot and sunny, the middle was less impressive, with cloud, some light rain and cool temperatures for July - it's not unknown.  The conditions were clearly right for stag beetles to get it on, and I found a pair at it in the aubergine and pepper bed.  I wouldn't normally comment on beetle sex, but these are seriously big beetles and they made a bit of noise, plus I have chums who are that way about stag beetles.

The photo was after the event...

As the weather improved, so the long evenings were more appealing for late walks after I have watered the potted plants.  This photo shows a pretty novel light on the church spire (yes, it is twisted, just like Chesterfield, well not exactly like Chesterfield, but...), as it is really only at about 9:45pm or later that the sun hits that bit of the tower.

Apologies for the revolting bungalow in the foreground.

The vegetable plot is starting to get into its swing - here is Fergus guarding our swag (hard earned swag).  We have also robbed a couple more potatoes, and the beefsteak tomatoes are ripening.

Finally, it is a good year for my favourite flower.  We have three pots of agapanthus and all are out, but this one is the most dramatic.

Have a nice weekend and wear a face mask in enclosed spaces!

 

 

Summer reflections 2 - excess fruitfulness

Summer is definitely here, as there are more and more British cars on the roads.  If you are coming over, and bringing a car, don't be fooled by the British press saying that main road speeds are back to 90kmph (56mph).  In some places they are changing, in other places they aren't.  Basically, keep your eyes on the road signs, and if in doubt, stick to 80kmph (50mph).  And ignore what your satnav says too, as it won't be up to date.  We believe it is a scam to earn more money in fines, and they will still fine you, even if it is a British registered car, and that fine will find you.

So what about the excess fruitfulness?  Well that is down to our poor, long suffering pear tree.  We have yet another year where it is loaded down with fruit and we hadn't realised how big some of that fruit was, nor how much there was.  Sometime yesterday afternoon, a gust of wind hit it a bit too hard and wallop!  Down came a big branch.  A cat may or may not have been involved too - Zola is being a bit coy about that.

Now our usual way of dealing with excess fruit won't really work, as it relies on things being ripe and mushy and full of sugars and with a bit of natural yeast.  While large, these pears aren't really ripe or even close to thinking about being ripe.  Anyone with recipes for what to do with green, unripe pears, please let me know before the chickens peck them all to bits (and a vast hill of chicken food isn't actually what we need either).

 

Summer reflections 1 - the weather isn't right

As my Facebook feeds and my memories tell me, in general the first half of July is scorching hot, bright sunshine, occasional and scary thunder storms and farmers working around the clock to get the grain harvest in.  Currently only the last of these seems to be running to form.  The weather is cool (low 20s at best) and a bit dull.  That hasn't stopped the maize from growing, although our own sweetcorn is unlikely to hit 2 foot tall.  I no longer have an evening vista to enjoy.

Some of the gardens we keep an eye on have different crops surrounding them.  This is not what you might think but very closely related.  Germination rates seem to have been pretty poor.

Evidence that Covid-19 is still a threat can be found if you have to go hospital visiting.  I'm not sure how the image below is supposed to bring comfort and succour to the invalid being visited, but that is the only way you can be to get in.  At least they don't stick a thermometer in your ear any more to check your temperature!

For those who don't see my Facebook posts, while the sweetcorn is unlikely to do anything this year, we have done well on garlic, shallots and potatoes.  The spuds were ones I robbed from 3 different plants, while rummaging in the soil to see how they were getting on.  Rather well was the answer - they were delicious with butter and a nice lump of salmon.

Let summer begin!

Apologies for not rounding off the 30 Days Wild with a wild post yesterday, but I was anything but wild - tied to the computer until 10:30pm getting a report finished for a client.  With a couple of chums, I've been doing a quick scheme review for the Fifth Continent Landscape Partnership, but at a distance.  It brought back memories of afternoons on the sands at Littlestone when I was small, walks on the shingle at Dungeness when I was older, and the litany of villages we used to have to go through to get down to Littlestone (Matfield, Brenchley, Goudhurst, Sissinghurst, Biddenden, Tenterden, Appledore, New Romney).  My Dad used to love it down there.

Anyway, now summer should be here and soon the holiday makers will arrive, but it will be a strange summer, as so many of the festivals and capers of summer have been cancelled.  There will be no 14th July festivities and fireworks, no Comice at Echimiré, although they promise they will do it next year instead, no festival of the giant croissant (and at 800g each, they are indeed giant), no car boot sales, no concerts.  We will have to make our own entertainment.

And that is where things can get bizarre.  We grew small pumpkins (potimarrons) last year, but didn't eat many of them, as they weren't as tasty as the butternut squashes we also grew.  They sat in the garage and slowly went off.  "What happens if you bury a whole one?" he says, and does that in the wild flower meadow.  I imagine that they sit in the soil until some enterprising worm or beetle nibbles through the hard outer shell, at which point the seeds, which are in a nutrient rich soup of putrid pumpkin, go "weh hey - an escape tunnel" and go for it.  One has produced four seedlings, the other?  Well see if you can work it out!

With life here in France returning to close to normal, I'll not be doing a daily blog, but I will provide updates a few times a week.  I will leave you with the portrait of Fergus I promised a couple of days ago.

 

Day 28 of 30 Days Wild - Saturday fun, Sunday work

I did warn you that there would be no blog yesterday - we were out celebrating with one of the Chinon Two.  I have to say that weather-wise, it wasn't really the best day for celebrating.  Before we even got to that, we had to brave a cold, moist and windy market to get supplies.

Before settling in to a delicious and copious dinner at the Bistrot de Marché at Chinon, we went on a bit of a wander and café tour - this was in the main square, and a bit moist and windy.

So we moved location to the admirable Café Français and sat indoors, and admired the collection of confinement cartoons by a local chap, many of which had appeared in the Nouvelle Republique.  We then strolled on to the Bistrot de Marché, inspecting menus as we went - in many instances, that was actually just an academic exercise as quite a few had signs up saying they were complêt for the evening, even before opening time!  I tried to emulate the wonderful sunset scenes that so many friends post at the moment, but failed totally - if you look very closely, you might just spot a chateau on the horizon.

To make up for a day of lotus eating yesterday, this morning was spent working hard on the vegetable plot, while the afternoon has been spent clamped to the computer, working on a report that has to be submitted on Tuesday (so long as it arrives before midnight, that is OK).

Fergus is guarding the strimmer while we do other things - tomorrow there will be a Fergus portrait I think!

But now it is time for Sunday aperos - bring out the Gin!

 

Day 25 of 30 Days Wild - what I would like to be doing!

It's not news to say it is hot, stinking hot.  Here in my office it is nearly 30ºC and I will stop work as soon as this is done and find somewhere cooler to be.  Or that would be the ideal - but it will be difficult to find I fear.  There are storms doing the rounds but not near us - to the north east of le Mans took a real hammering earlier.

My evening walk to look at the view is fast becoming a bit futile - it is now up to my shoulders and allowing for the curve of the hill and so forth, you really can't see anything beyond maize!

These long high summer evenings should be the ideal time to watch the evening primroses open.  That sounds weird, but sit with a plant and a glass of something chilled and just watch - they open over about a quarter of an hour, and there is a real ping moment when the sepals curl back and release the flower, and you can almost see the petals moving.  Great fun and very therapeutic!  But they open very late at the moment, so the best I can do is admire them in the morning when the flowers are still open.  By midday they are gone.

Watch out for storms!

 

Day 22 of 30 Days Wild - it's all about relaxing

Yes, I finally made it to a yoga session.  As we all listed our aches, pains and ailments, poor Maëwa looked a bit bewildered (well it is yoga for seniors) at our multiple complaints and decided that we needed to concentrate first of all on breathing properly. 

She probably had a point. After 5 minutes of being instructed through deeper and slower breathing, my angst about tweaking my ankle again receded as I tried to make one breathe last for a count of 10, then 15, then 20.  I don't think she actually wanted us to count, but as a numbers person, that does calm me down rather.  Later in the class, as we tried to touch our feet with our foreheads, or spent 5 minutes with our feet in the air, I think she felt rather more relaxed too.

The relaxation class started with meditation before moving on to the sonic bit with bowls and gongs and the like, but again that was trying to anchor us into nature, imagining our stresses, fears, pains and anxieties flowing away with a stream and then becoming one with a meadow.  How I have missed that weekly letting go of all stress and tension!

We have one more week and then it is the summer break, so I will be back to my own resources and the yoga videos Maëwa sent round during lockdown (only to be tried when I am convinced a cat won't sit on me).

One resource, when the weather is right of course, is my evening walk to my view over the country - it is only 100 yards but standing at the top of the maize field, watching the swifts, swallows, martins, pigeons, and if a bit late, the bats swooping over the corn, trying to catch insects or a thermal is really rather lovely.  It will depend of course on how high the maize actually gets...

A demain!

 

Day 20 of 30 Days Wild - if only I could add sound!

It wasn't just that Friday evening is beer o'clock time, but also that I knew that yesterday would be hyper dull, which made me miss a day with the blog, but most people seemed to get the message from the number of hits.

This morning as I went out to the market, I noticed poppies flowering around the steps to the front door - clearly we are slovenly as they should have been grubbed out weeks ago, but actually a blaze of red poppies is such a cheerful thing, I'm glad we hadn't.  Not sure what the neighbours think though!

The Moroccans were back in the market, which was good news.  Not such good news was falling over in the street (sober!) and hurting my knee and ankle - the knee is now fine, but the ankle is starting to look unpleasant.  However it isn't so bad that I can't go mowing, which I did this afternoon.  Once it was all done, I went for a walk round the lake while the mower cooled down so I could pack it away under its covers.  The carp were leaping which is fun but slightly scary to watch and impossible to photograph.  While I stood on the bank waiting for them to do it again, a frog chorus started up - I'm not fluent but I think it was along the lines of "That one's injured, if we work together, we can take it down - hooman for dinner team!"  I recorded it, but haven't worked out how to get the recording off the phone and onto here.

Finally as I checked emails before doing this blog, I found a lovely present from a chum in the States in the shape of this photo.  I've no idea exactly what it is, I assume some form of cricket, but he is totally correct in describing it as a leaf with an eye!

La vie est belle!