Rural Life

Day 29 of 30 Days Wild - it's damp in the One Acre Wood

Not today, as I have either been chained to my computer or out at yoga, getting within 4 inches of touching my feet with my forehead, but yesterday, we got to the One Acre Wood for a walk after working on the plot.

Often at this time of year, it is cool and dry in the wood, with the air full of insects.  Sadly, as everywhere else, there are fewer insects in the wood, which is a shame.  Because of the recent rain, it was very damp underfoot and quite humid.  There is a beautiful bit of moss on the rustic bench by the upper seasonal pool (currently empty).

Further down the way, and looking through the trees it felt a bit like a temperate rain forest, although it isn't.

And every good forest has to have its monsters, this is ours.  They really are so unpleasant to look at, these monster orange slugs, but I tolerate them, as if the giant orange slugs are out and about, there is a chance that we will get mushrooms later in the year.  No scientific basis, just observation over the 15 years we have had the wood.

Apologies for this being so late in the evening - I'll bet you have nightmares about our Orange chum!

 

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 11 of 30 Days Wild - a soggy one

Up until 3:30pm this afternoon I was either at the beck and call of Poirot prior to and during her annual vet's visit, or stuck in front of the computer at the beck and call of my latest project.  I've talked to some very interesting people today, but I can't tell you anything about it because it is confidential.

After my last interview today, we went to feed the cats, but by then the rain had started and it was a very soggy visit.  All four boys were very cuddly and needing maximum food, tickles and stroking with the (one) grooming glove.  When I get near Pets at Home sometime, I need to get another one as they all like having their loose fur helped on its way.  Spooky in particular gets very excited and loved up and purrs like a small outboard motor.  He has the loudest purr of all four, for all he is the smallest!

Anyway, once home, it was back to the computer, so once again I have rummaged in my stash of photos.  As people seemed to quite like the rainforest photo, I had a further look at the Guadeloupe archives.  While there are quite a lot of cats on Guadeloupe, the animal (in the widest sense) that best mimics a domestic moggy here in France is the pelican.  The follow the fishermen's wives around, begging for morsels, and if you leave a boat unattended, it gets sat on.  As they get more comfortable, they splodge down until they become pelican pancake.  I think it's cute.

Certainly the most beautiful, but probably the most tantalising, birds are the humming birds.  You can hear their wings, and you might catch a glimpse unless they find a really good nectar source, but photographing the wretched things is nearly impossible.  This is one of my better attempts.

Tomorrow I have no interviews so I hope to be able to take a bit of time at lunch or in the afternoon to do or see something of more interest to share with you.  I know I have to go to the supermarket, so that may bring inspiration!  A demain!

Day 5 of 30 Days Wild - butterflies

OK so I said I would be late, as the pub reopens, but that only works if John is home from work.  He is toiling so I will do my blog and you can see pretty pictures from the terrace tomorrow!

The sweet chestnut is now well and truly in flower around here - probably about 2 weeks earlier than usual.  The insects are gorging themselves on the nectar - although as it has gone a bit cool, there weren't as many honeybees knocking around as I thought there would be.  Once client has a very nice, small and young tree which was just covered in flowers.

Looking more closely at a bunch of flowers, I found a butterfly.

There is a cherry tree at the far side of the wildflower meadow, which has fruit which is just about ripe, except the birds are going at it and the heavy rain a couple of days ago bruised the fruit badly, causing rot and also causing some to ferment inside.  I ate a lot straight from the tree but there was no point in picking them to bring home as they would be rotten by tomorrow.

There are all sorts of flowers in the meadow at the moment and a mix of scabious and knapweed seems to make it an ideal habitat for marbled white butterflies.  There were loads flying around every time I moved.  I got a few photos but this is the only one I've done anything with so far.  Very pretty, isn't it?

And now I can no longer resist the siren song of the pub terrace - cheers!

 

Weekend 2 of Deconfinement Diary - well it is a bank holiday weekend!

While the first weekend of fewer restrictions was spent on mundane but useful things like gardening, shopping, feeding ourselves and preparing for the coming week, this weekend we were daring and crossed the regional border into Centre Val de Loire.  Such braveness and intrepidness!!

It was fun to be out and about together - during lockdown having two in a car was a signal to be stopped and checked, so we just didn't do it.  We went over to Restigné, near Bourgueil, first of all.  We took the roads less travelled across country, admiring the woods, fields and villages we hadn't seen since February or so.  It was great to see our friend Laurent the wine maker again, and for the first time this year.  He has not been having a great time of it.  The markets that allow him to sell his wine to the public have not allowed vignerons in until the last week or so, he doesn't sell to the supermarkets as he doesn't have the volume and can't go very low on price (or as low as they want), while the bars and restaurants that he supplies are closed.  Added to that, customers such as ourselves have not been able to get to him and he has been severely hampered in gaining a living.  While he has applied for the government handouts, he has heard nothing back.  He was very pleased to see us.

Normally at this time of year we get the gossip on the spring weather and how it has affected the buds on the vine.  This year, he was more interested in telling us and showing us how much damage one broken bottle can do when in a trailer full of goods for market.  With little margin and few sales, losing a few presentation boxes in such a way is a loss too.  We left his place with 20 litres vrac (i.e. needing to be bottled) of his 2018 corsé red wine and 20 litres of his best dry rosé for us, and a further 10 litres each of dry rosé and the 2019 red for Chinon.

Then on to Chinon!  Coming along the Vienne, it is a dramatic way to enter the town.  First there is the river, which was lower than I have seen it since October last year!

Then as you get closer, the chateau dominates the entrance to the town - it has a long history but is most famous for being the place where Joan of Arc performed her first miracle - spotting the Dauphin disguised among his courtiers.

Then we had a lovely afternoon/early evening catching up with family and their new neighbours, including reciprocal cellar visits, and didn't get home until 8pm.  Today has been more relaxed, and has included feeding the country cats, picking ticks off them, watering seedlings and eating home grown strawberries and raspberries with the chunk of Mum's shortbread that I purloined yesterday.  Not a bad weekend!

Day 34 of lockdown - a rainy Sunday afternoon

They've been promising rain for days, if not a couple of weeks, but today it has finally happened - we've got rain.  At last!  It seems odd to be saying that after it rained seemingly nonstop between mid-October and the end of February, with floods and mud, and the ephemeral ponds filling up.  But it hasn't really rained since I started this blog 34 days ago and the soil is getting very dry, so it is welcome for once.

John managed to mow the lawn this morning in the two hour window when using power tools is not frowned on, while I sowed a hanging basket with a random packet of mixed flower seeds, and thinned out some sempervivums into a pot designed to fit on a downpipe.  I also sowed some radishes and thinned out the tomato seedlings - it felt profligate but we still have at least 19 tomato plants to find space for, as well as the 17 butternut squashes, 6 courgettes, and 19 (and counting) sweetcorn.  Since lunch we really have been locked down, and in my office all I can hear is the clicking of keyboards (mine and John's) and the blatter of rain on our roof and Velux.  I should probably be listening to Oxygène - that is ideal rain music! 

OK, that is now playing; that feels better!

For the photo montage today, I thought I would go through the photos I've taken during the week and then not used.  First off, here are some bluebells as a couple of chums have been taunting me with pictures of bluebell woods in the UK.

Then there is the wisteria I go past in the morning on my way to the boulangerie - I once worked with a chap near Peterborough who thought it was essential I was in the UK in May to see the wisteria.  I didn't like to say it grows just as well here!

When I was a child, I used to love honesty, less for the flowers and more for the seed pods that were such fun to play with.  The honesty is doing rather well this year - perhaps I will remember what it was I actually used to do with/to the pods back in the day.

Finally, after all the angst about the orchid bud and whether it would ever open or not, the other orchid has chosen to have two buds in a stage of imminentness, plus the first one has another bud that looks like it could open any time.  Plus both are finding new places to send out flower stems.  A daily bout of torture for me, to distract me from the copy of Private Eye in the bathroom.

 

Day 27 of lockdown - there's thunder in the air

Happy Easter to all - I hope the Easter Bunny was able to find a local elf to ensure you had some chocolate today!  Thanks for the messages about this blog too by the way - it really does help to know people are reading it, if only to keep me on my toes about fact checking and the like.

Although there are now storms rumbling around, this morning was lovely with not a cloud in the sky.  I have been surprised at how quickly the ounces are piling on (and after 27 days, ounces mount up) - I guess I didn't really realise how much good the long Sunday walk, the (in my dreams) weekly trip to swim at la Flèche and the Monday evening yoga sessions all did me.  Anyway, this morning I left John doing bad things to the artichokes that have taken over the potager, and went for my permitted up to 1 hour of solitary exercise no more than 1km from my front door.  Actually at the furthest point I fear I was actually 1.05km from my front door, but no one stopped me!

The following six photos are from my walk.  I want over the Couasnon twice and hoped to see kingfishers, but sadly no.  I did see swallows however - they arrived during the week and are now being delightful as only swallows can be.  I did see a couple of big trout in the stream, but no chance of getting a photo with my phone.  Coming back into the village, I noticed that the laburnum is now out, so shouldn't be surprised that my hay fever symptoms are starting to ramp up.  I do need to ration the antihistamines though as it will be a while before I can get more.

Anyway, enjoy the stroll in the quiet of the countryside!

 

A hint of things to come

Every year, and usually in January, there is a day when I know that spring will happen.  There is something about the quality of the air and light that gives new hope.

It isn't always linked to any physical signs of spring, although today I did spot the first tips of snowdrop leaves pushing up around the base of the quince tree.  The bluebells have been pushing up for a while now.

It also isn't linked in general to any wildlife signs, although today I was keenly aware of small birds in the garden starting to prepare their mating songs.

It is also not the end of the bad and cold weather - while today we have seen a bit of sun for only the third time this year, I know that we still have a lot of frost and rain and wind to come.

But there was definitely something in the air today, and I am now inclined to think about pruning the apple, pear and quince trees and what crops I might grow in the potager.

 

Comice 2015

Having failed to blog about last year's Comice, I thought I had better get down to it today, as the event has just finished, and before other things got to me.  This annual highlight of the agricultural year in Anjou is the one in a series that will now go on for a few weeks.  Each has its own flavour and traditions, but decorated floats are generally part of it, as are ploughing matches.

This year the theme for the whole event was land from here and elsewhere and for the procession of floats, each commune drew from a hat a French region and a foreign country and could chose which one to show on their float.  And here they are - with apologies to Echimere and Montpollin, whose efforts I failed to photograph.

Boce will host next year so started the parade - here I saved everyone's sensibilities by not taking a picture which included the "chaps" on and with the float - the coconut bras were truly disturbing on too many levels.  They decided to share with us La Reunion.

Next came Clefs, who chose to show us the gritty side of Nord, with their interpretation of the coal mines of the north.  There were any awful lot of spectators who were kissed, fondled or otherwise groped by the miners on their way to the Comice venue, including stewards, who were covered in charcoal dust.

Cuon showed us the "national" sport of the Basque country, which I can't even begin to spell!

Then there was St Martin d'Arce who I think must have got Provence and who decided to demonstrate that with the Gendarme de St Tropez, complete with beach, 2CV and Gendarme.

Vaulandry took the theme of the Alps.

Fougere went for abroad and showed us all the best of Italy, complete with ice cream salesman, gondola and a pizza oven.

Le Guedenieu, our hosts last year, produced a fabulous float and team, complete with bull to show Spain.

Pontigne apparently drew England (so I was told) but instead went with their French region - Normandy.  This lovely float including the landing beaches, Mere Poulard and a Camembert.

Chevire le Rouge - our hosts - brought up the rear with the local region of Anjou, including a fine gabare and a pretty landau for the Carnival Queens.

There was also a fine Western caravan, nice during the day, brilliant illuminated at night.

And le Vieil Bauge?  Well, we had the option of Alsace or Switzerland.  We ran out of inspiration thinking about Alsace, getting as far as sauerkraut, but no further, so went for Switzerland instead.  See what you think!