Rural Life

Spring into Summer

The first of June brought meteorological summer - it's just an arbitrary date, but it works for me and my filing for photos.  It is true that it also stopped raining on the 1st June and hasn't started again since for us, but that won't last much longer I think.  But the evening of 1st June was very cool - I know this as we walked the 3km from our front door to the Centre René d'Anjou in Baugé for the final hurrah of the Comice 2023.  This was the party to say thank you to the volunteers who put in so many hours of hard work all through 2023 (although for those on the Drinks Committee, initially it didn't look like hard work!).  We were warned to be there for 7:30pm, as speeches needed to start at 7:45pm - well both of those had the Anjou 15 minutes added to them!

What a night!  Aperos, a four course dinner with relevant different wines, two cabaret singers and three dancers, speeches (but not too many) and dancing until dawn for those who could manage it.  Light weights that we are, we left after pudding at 00:45am for the 3km walk home in the dark.  My chum Brigitte ran away at 4:00am as she knew she had tidying up to do the following morning.  Our President locked up at about 6:00am but didn't go to bed, as he had to be back to let in the cleaning party at 9:00am!

And that is why I had pre-prepared last week's blog!!

Once the rain stopped, we did start getting sunny weather, so that by Tuesday, my legs were timidly being shown the open air from time to time and I am now sitting in shorts, doing my typing.  I wouldn't say that summer has settled in by any means, but we are now having to water things, so we are sort of in the ball park.

Last summer, the highlight of our growing season was the mighty cristophine vine, which John nurtured and which fed us well during autumn.  My chum Stéphane the Estate Agent said we should watch out as they are actually perennials, and it would come back.  "What does he know? Pfff!" were some of our comments to that.  But we didn't have much by way of frost over winter, and John strimming the area to prepare to plant his new cristophine plants just seemed to annoy it, and it is Back and it is Angry!  The weather isn't really warm enough yet for it to get truly rampant, but the phrase "Feed me Seymour" is back!

No Mow May is a real thing nowadays, and some people get very tetchy if you don't buy into it wholeheartedly.  I think you have to be careful, and you need to look at your land to see where you can do this, and where you can't.  Some bits of our plots have had a No Mow May more due to the weather and machines falling apart trying to deal with overly luxurious growth.  My nice clear path down the side of the fruit trees to the plantation area and the mud pools has only been kept open by the passage of deer and boar, which now makes it Tic Alley!

It will take us a long time to get this passable again not least as this sort of luxurious growth takes its toll on machines.  Our first trusty ride on lawnmower, who has gone miles round various different gardens, has had to be given a retirement plan of being a small towing tractor, as the mowing pan has rotted away in too many places, and can't be patched any more.  It is fair to say that Maurice has worked hard over the 18 years we have had him, so we can't really complain too much.  The 6 month wait for a new cutting deck is too long to wait however, so we are looking at Plan B.

I will leave you with a display of lovely flowers - where things are happy with the weather conditions, they are thriving, and the climbing rose on the front of the house, the small fragrant rose I bought at Aldi (other cheap supermarkets are available) and was disappointed with last year, bee orchids and lizard orchids are all very happy with life.  And that makes me happy.

I'm planning on bringing in one of the trail cameras during the week, so there could be wildlife pictures and videos next week, you never know!

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.

 

Still not a hint of summer!

Meteorological summer starts on the 1st June - next Saturday in fact - but you wouldn't really know it yet.  The key summer crops of maize and sunflowers are either very short or not even sown yet, we still have sweatshirts ready to wear morning and evening, shorts rarely make an appearance and there is no cover on the gazebo yet.  With the long evenings, I am doing my walk to the top of the hill after closing up the chicken run, and on Tuesday, this was the inspiring sight that I was greeted with - standing water and maize just about 3 inches tall.  It's not right!

I did get the cover off the area of soil where I wanted to sow carrots, parsnips and salsify.  It had been providing shelter to a number of baby slowworms, one of which is pictured below, while keeping the worst of the weeds at bay.  I think the slowworms and toads are one of the reasons that we don't get too much slug and snail damage on that particular area, and they are supported by thrushes and other birds of that broad family.  The soil was very wet, very heavy and claggy, but somehow I got the seeds sown - how successful they will be, I am not sure.

While we are not hosting the Comice in Vieil Baugé this year, we have a relatively prestigious place in the parade of decorated floats, so we have to take it seriously.  Flowers have been made (possibly not enough green ones) and now we are starting to stick them onto the cardboard frames that get attached to the float.  That is something we can do in the rain as we have a nice dry barn to do it in, and it makes for a nice, convivial afternoon.  One thing I need to remember for the next session, is to sit down for part of the time - standing and leaning at a bad angle did nothing for either my feet or my back!

Today we went out for Sunday lunch, to Chinon.  Now this was a daring move as today is Mother's Day in France so there was a danger of too many people and not enough restaurant tables, but we know people, therefore it was not an issue for us at all.  We started out by visiting the amazing British craft brewer in Chinon, Simon at Brassefort.  He is a charming character, and has worked as a stone mason, as well as now being a brewer, so has lots of stories to tell and wisdom to impart, and the beer is jolly good too!  Lunch was taken at the Lion d'Or on the Place Jeanne d'Arc, where the food is always good (they also do an excellent café gourmand - a small coffee with half a dozen mini desserts), the wine in pichers is of a high standard and everyone is very friendly.

Now I must go to the kitchen and wrestle with the mangos we were given by our neighbour - someone had given him a case, and while he had eaten most of them, he was now fed up with mango, so would we like them?  Yes please!  Except they aren't the easiest to peel and eat - my godmother used to sit in the bath to eat them and then wash herself down afterwards.

Have a good week!

 

Boring weather

Last Saturday, when I wrote my last piece a day early, the weather was glorious!  Hot sunshine, hardly a cloud in the sky, just a gentle breeze to stop it getting too hot, but a lovely 25ºC in the shade.  That changed on Sunday, just in time for the trout fishing day, to what we have now.  Nice mornings that fool you, afternoons that don't get much over 20ºC with thunderstorms rumbling around and unpredictably dumping rain and hail on me every time I put my nose out of the back door, while the evenings are cool but calmer after about 9pm.  It is great growing weather for weeds and wild plants, not great for setting off seeds of courgette and butternut squash and impossible to get the thyme seedlings to do anything more than pout.  But it has brought out the bee orchids, and this year, I've managed a couple of cracking photos of them too!

The various alliums we have growing are putting on a lot of green growth, although rather floppy.  At least the onions are mostly growing under frames to keep the worst ravages of cat bottom under control, so they are supported, while the growing habit of shallots is such that they are quite perky.  The garlic have lovely strong stems and leaves, but when I lifted one today to go with broad beans, it looked like a very healthy leek underground.  I think they need a bit of sunshine and heat to bulk out.  Not that the forecasts are promising any of that for the moment.

The Fergus Memorial Rose (aka Orange King) is now out and looking magnificent!  I could go a bundle on roses if they put on displays like this all the time!  Actually I am fond of roses, but I like them to have perfume - this one doesn't seem to, but with this, the colour was the important aspect.

The electrical activity is making writing this very challenging - it is taking about 8 goes to get a photo loaded up and inserted which is not doing my blood pressure any favours, so I think I will finish with a short word about the trout fishing day, and go and do something else.

The trout fishing day is run by the fishing club la Gaule Baugeoise, who stock the lake with trout of the right size, manage the fishing tickets and provide snack food at lunchtime.  The Comité des Fêtes du Vieil Baugé, of which I am a member, provide a drinks stand all day long - coffee, wine, beer and soft drinks, served with a smile.  Very successful events in past years have seen over a hundred rods, and a three hour long. lunchtime rush for drinks from 11:30am.  This year was more sedate, in part due to the weather, in part due to a very long holiday weekend (known in the media as a viaduct holiday weekend), and in part due to people feeling less like splashing the cash than they used to.  Even so, there were perhaps 70 rods and a continuous stream of drinkers and we didn't get too wet, and my feet stopped hurting about 2 hours after I got home.  A success overall I think!

So I'm now going to quit while I'm ahead, and wish you a very 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!

 

Spring flowers

With the move into March, meteorological spring has now started and we can talk about flowers and buds with joy.  One of the least showy, but most successful spring bulbs round our way are grape hyacinths - you can't stop them it seems and they spread.  These window boxes must have been planted up with bulbs at least 7 years ago, and not by us.  We do nothing to them, and we certainly don't water them through the summer, yet each spring they produce a magnificent display to cheer us up on even the wettest and coldest of March days.

Daffodils can be a bit tetchy, coming up blind if they aren't treated with a bit of respect or if they are too crowded or if the weather isn't to their liking.  This year they are looking rather splendid.

One flower we never seem to have problems with are cowslips, with rosettes turning up everywhere and spreading across any green area they come across.  Later in the season, the mutants will start to flower, with orange and red flowers.  I believe that there are specific names for those, although I do wonder if they are the result of cross-pollination with the polyanthus that are in every garden.  For the moment we are just seeing the early yellow flowers of cowslips however, which are very lovely and a welcome sight.

The hedgerows are white with blackthorn and wild plum blossom, which is gorgeous but makes me worry for the cultivated plum blossom that will arrive soon.  So far only the peach is starting to flower, but that is quite well protected and always early.  Fortunately the Victoria Plum is not showing any sign of thinking that blossom is imminent, but the mirabelle style plum in the Meadow is a bit more optimistic.

Periwinkle can be a real thug, particularly in the wrong place, but in the Orchard it has to fight for its place.  I do love the blue flowers, and prefer the green leaves to the variegated versions.

There is another type of flower that needs my attention at the moment - the sort that is used to decorate the village float for the Comice.  It has taken a while to get a Comité des Fêtes reinvigorated, and a theme agreed for the float, but now that is all sorted, it is all hands on deck to make flowers, ready to be stuck on during May and June.  With 14 willing participants, the first session on Thursday afternoon went really well and was a very convivial event.  We have a way to go though.

There are two trail cameras placed around the ponds to see what wildlife is passing through and next week I will bring one home to check through.  While I have been without a camera, I have used a different technology to see what is going on, this time focussing on bird song.  The Merlin App by Cornell Labs (others are available) sits on my phone and when there isn't too much wind or noise of motors, I can get a view of who is making a racket around me. 

You do have to be a bit circumspect as I am pretty sure the bittern it thought it detected was actually a motorbike misfiring across the valley, but with so many small birds being hard to spot with all the vegetation, it is an eye opener.  The list of 47 species below are all those that have been picked up at least once by the app since the 1st January this year.  I have doubts about just two on this list - the green winged Teal and the European Turtle-dove, but the rest have made enough appearances for me to be confident they are, or have been, in the zone.

Brambling

Carrion crow

Cetti's Warbler

Common buzzard

Common chaffinch

Common chiffchaff

Common firecrest

Common Wood Pigeon

Crested tit

Dunnock

Eurasian Blackbird

Eurasian Blackcap

Eurasian Bluetit

Eurasian Green Woodpecker

Eurasian Jackdaw

Eurasian Jay

Eurasian Linnet

Eurasian Magpie

Eurasian Nuthatch

Eurasian Siskin

Eurasian Skylark

Eurasian Wren

European Goldfinch

European Greenfinch

European Robin

European Serin

European Starling

European Turtle-dove

Gray Wagtail

Great Spotted Woodpecker

Great tit

Green Sandpiper

Green winged Teal

Hawfinch

House Sparrow

Long-tailed tit

Mallard

Marsh tit

Mistle Thrush

Redwing

Reed Bunting

Ring-necked pheasant

Rock Pigeon

Short toed Treecreeper

Song Thrush

White Wagtail

Wood Lark

Anyway, that is more than enough for you to think about for the moment, so I leave you with an image of a small mud slide on the road near the Orchard, because, yes, it has been raining this week!

 

Water, water everywhere!

It's been a wet week and tomorrow is due to be the same.  it has severely curtailed what I wanted to do outdoors - there are parsnips that need to be lifted and eaten, but frankly neither yesterday or today were conducive to anything other than a quick trot around to top up the bird feeder and check on the level of the ponds.  We've had a lot of rain.  The Couasnon - our local small river - is full and moving much more quickly than usual, while fields and ditches have sprung streams and ponds.  You can see sometimes where a helpful ditch has been ploughed over as it once again runs with water, heading for an ancestral pond.  

I'm not actually too upset about the rain on one level as the ponds are slowly refilling, particularly the upper one.  Today it was just an inch or so below the level of the overflow pipe, which is the best I've seen for a couple of years.  The lower pond is also refilling, and now we wait to see if the clay has expanded enough and there is enough debris to block where that one has been draining away.  Today for the first time in ages, it was at the level it was when we first found it three years ago.

Thursday and Friday we had Storm Louis, who came in with strong winds and left about 32mm of rain, and since then we have had unnamed depressions with abrupt sharp showers, or just interminable wet grey as per this morning.  Friday afternoon was occasionally dry, and when it was, the skies were dramatic.

This wet weather left me with too much time on my hands.  After a long drawn out and heated discussion with the suppliers of my (non-functioning) trail camera over whether I understood how to use it properly and of course it was normal that it heated up to 55ºC and batteries only lasted 8 hours, I got frustrated.  So I spent time looking for another camera not supplied by that bunch, but that met at least 75% of my requirements (taking photos, taking videos, using rechargeable batteries, working, and WiFi or Bluetooth enabled), I settled on a pack of three cameras which are quite basic and don't do WiFi or Bluetooth but do take rechargeable batteries, and with three of them I can cover two places and have one in reserve to swap in and out.  I hope they will arrive during the week, and then I can get monitoring again - the hares, the deer, the boar, the pheasants, the badgers, the pine martens, I've missed them all these last 4 months, not forgetting Monsieur and Madame Woodpecker.

A pine marten from last year to illustrate the point!

In my post Changes for the New Year, I shared a photo of one of the chickens (Jaq) suffering a particularly drastic moult.  It has taken a while, but she is now back to full featherhood and looking much better I am pleased to say.  Perhaps she might even deign to lay an egg one of these days!

The other thing that took a lot of my time and attention last week was preparing for and then submitting to my five yearly colon examination.  It's a boring process, a bit icky if I'm honest, and I craved food with crunch or crumbs or crust, and I did pay for a private room.  It is important none the less to do those regular cancer checks, because caught early, many things are eminently treatable, and the tests are likely much less invasive than the treatment!  There we go - sermon over!

So I leave you with an image of a fairly full second pond, and hope that your feet stay dry and unwebbed!

 

A very different aspect of French life

It was going to be a very boring blog this week about gnawing cold seeping into ones bones and the stones of old houses.  Also, perhaps, reflections on how personalities affect how one views getting involved with village events, as I snuck back onto the Comité des Fêtes du Vieil Baugé after a six year absence.  But then on Friday, my world changed and I became an orphan.

My mother hasn't been particularly well for a long time, and there has been a distinct downward progression over the past 14 months or so, but even so, when you get the call, it is still a shock.  On the Thursday I had already been informed of problems with hydration, and while I was concerned, I prepared myself for the usual Friday visit, with expectations divided between sitting and listening to her snoring, or the hydration fluids having done their thing and trying to entertain her with silly little stories of nothing at all.  But instead of a Friday afternoon at the nursing home, it was a Friday afternoon at the funeral home, choosing coffins, linings, words for the press notice, and the date and time of the cremation.

They don't hang around over here - it is a legal obligation for ceremonies to be done within 6 days (working days fortunately).  Such a difference to England, where for my father, it took I think 5 days to get the documentation that meant we could go to the Registrar and then choose a funeral director, and it was a good month wait before the date of the cremation.  It meant we could do something a bit more elegant and considered, but such a long time to get it over.  Then of course, there were all those awful Covid ceremonies, with few people and huge restrictions - one neighbour said to me in the queue outside the boulangerie at the time that she felt she had been done out of the community sharing of grief and memories that make a bad day somewhat more easy to endure.

Once you find the number in the local directory and call up, you are enveloped in a well oiled process of professionals, who communicate amongst themselves to get everything done with minimum angst.  It might be all new and bewildering to you, but to them it is totally normal.  While it felt like an endless process on Friday afternoon, actually it took less than 2 hours to get things to a point where we now just wait for a call from the celebrant, and turn up on the day.

While my mother spent the last 20 years of her life in France, a country that she loved passionately, she was born in the Black Country and survived the War and air raids without recourse to evacuation.  With her school certificate and a shorthand and typing diploma in her purse, she headed to London to seek her future, shedding her accent somewhere around Watford Gap I would guess.  She did bits and bobs of modelling but her main role in London was secretarial, including time working for the massive organisation that ensured the Festival of Britain happened in 1951.  It was in their offices that she first saw and met my father, and they married in 1953.

After 10 years in London, with two smallish children, they moved to Romford Cottage in Pembury, and for the next 40 years that was her home.  She created a loving space, where there was always cake and/or flapjack in a tin, a bottle of wine open, and a tasty dinner could be conjured out of the contents of the store cupboard and the fridge.  She engaged in village life, reluctantly at first - this was not someone who wanted to be a stalwart of the WI - but then passionately, fighting inappropriate development plans, and was parish councillor for a while too, responsible for keeping footpaths open.  At 50, she needed to go back to work, but electric typewriters and computers were not for her, and she did a catering qualification before doing office and directors' table catering in the City of London.

She retired earlier than she wanted, but was able to spend more time with my father and enabled him to stay at the Cottage until just a couple of days before his death.  She didn't then realise that she would have to wait 27 years to join him.  She tried not to be in too many paintings but there are odd sketches when Dad was itching to draw.

The Cottage was a lovely home, but impractical, not least as it was miles from anything useful, and when we decided to move to France, Mum jumped ship first.  She used our house as a base for finding her own piece of France, settling on a four bedroom townhouse in Chinon.  She loved that house and made it her own, although she hadn't really been upstairs for about 7 years, and then only in company, restricted by failing joints to the ground floor.

She tested the French health and social care system to its limits - and it is a marvellous system.  Now she is, I hope, at peace.

There may well not be a blog next week.

 

Different kinds of cold

Cold shouldn't be surprise in winter - it is right and proper that it is cold.  Fruit trees benefit enormously from a good cold spell during the winter to rest and be inspired to bloom and then fruit in the warmer seasons.  A good cold snap will also kill off many undesirable residents of house and garden (as well as some desirable ones sadly).  In fact people often dream of those ideal winter days - sunny, frost glistening everywhere, puffed up birds tweeting in the hedgerows and around bird feeding stations, breathe freezing in the air, and then going back indoors to sit beside a roaring log fire, with a mug of something soothing, as your toes warm up again.  Something like we had on Thursday in fact.

It's been cold all week - but not that cold, as only once has the chicken water fountain frozen solid.  Instead, and apart from Thursday, we have had the less appealing cold winter weather - grey, slightly misty, never getting warmer than +1ºC or getting colder than -1ºC, unrelenting and dreary.  The stones of the house never benefit from a bit of sunshine, the house is mostly extremely cold as the electric heating only goes on between 10pm and 6am, there is no brightness to lighten the heart and spirits, just grey, drab, cold and depressing.

Yet amongst that frozen soil, there are the growing tips of broad beans starting to come through, and even with the cold, there are more every time I count them - today there were 27!  And hanging from that pine tree there is a bird feeder that is alive with great and bluetits, chirping and stuffing themselves with fat and seeds, and hopefully finishing off their meals with pine processionary caterpillars from the nests high in the tree.  My birdsong app on the phone tells me that Firecrests, song thrushes, dunnock, chaffinch and linnets are around in the hedges, while my ears are well enough trained to spot jays, green and greater spotted woodpeckers, blackbirds and magpies making their presence felt.  It's just me that is hating the dull days, so I flop on the sofa with cats.

There is a fine tradition in France of leaders offering their best wishes to their populations of interest for the New Year.  In rural communities like ours, this includes a ceremony (this morning) where our village mayor and the mayor of the district, plus local councillors and a representative of the Youth Council stand up and say their piece.  They review the year that has gone and outline the plans and hopes for the coming year.  The big event for Baugé en Anjou will be the passage of the Olympic Flame through the area on the 28th of May, although at the moment it is hard to get too excited about standing around outside waiting to see a passing flame.  I'm sure by late May I will be more enthralled!  Anyway, if you make it through the one hour twenty minutes of speeches (that was this year's duration), you get a glass of fizz, a couple of sugar buns and a chance to catch up with people you haven't seen for a while.  The photos are the official ones taken by Maryline Margas - one from the perspective of the presenters, one from the perspective of the audience.

So now I've lost feeling in my toes, as after two days of heating, my computer room has only struggled up to 17ºC, which means that I'm going to proof read this, post it, and go and find a fire and a couple of warm cats to put on my feet.  Have a good 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.