Rural Life

Sunshine makes everything better

This last week has all been about the slow recovery from a nasty bout of 'flu, with a slight blip when a gastro bug decided to make life more challenging.  But aside from that, it is amazing how sunshine makes things feel so much better!  On Monday, the sun was a bit tentative, and with dramatic clouds that did nothing but look impressive, so it was enough to tempt me out for a short walk to get the blood circulating and track down a bit of vitamin D.  The church was looking as magnificent as ever, to create a perfect image of sunshine, cloud and architecture.

There was a cruel wind, so to keep out of its path, I kept to the small lanes and built up bits of the village, rather than stride out to the route de Beaufort.  For a change I pottered down the cobbled lane that leads to the lavoir, or village wash house, to admire the clear spring that rises from a chum's cellar into a deep pool before pouring through the washhouse and down to the river.  Even in the big droughts a couple of years ago, the spring didn't dry up and it is always tempting to dip one's toes in during the summer.  Nothing would have tempted me to dip any bit of me in it on Monday!

Tuesday morning we treated ourselves to a trip to the compost emporium nearby.  They take all the green waste from the local tip as well as serious loads from farmers and others with significant quantities of "material" and on an industrial scale, produce the most marvellous compost.  Bagged up, it is a bit pricey, but take along your own trailer and it is much more reasonable.  A trailer load of about 400kg comes in at 32Euros, or roughly what you would pay for 3 bags of 50 litres of something that has been sitting around at a DIY shop for a few months but has "added goodness" apparently.  They also have a loyalty scheme.  Of course the only challenge now it to move it out of the trailer and onto the bits of garden that need it.

A bit of sunshine and a bit of motivation and the ability to be distant from a bathroom was all I needed this morning to do a bit of work in the garden.  There were a few final potatoes to lift before they got too interested in growing, so I struggled with the heavy clay soil to get them up.  While they are covered in weed suppressant matting, so there aren't too many weeds, the soil has soaked up as much water as it can and is heavy and unpleasant to work with.  Despite that, I managed to disturb a hibernating slow worm.  I put him in a sunbeam so he could warm up enough to move to safer ground, and stood guard while he did so, ensuring no prowling birds or cats could attack him in his sleepy state.  I'm sure I'll see him again later in the year - we do seem to have loads and I am very fond of them for their slug control capacities.

Finally, the early spring bulbs are doing their thing, and in very sheltered corners, the first of the daffodils are showing flowers.  Others will take up the challenge as it gets warmer, but these are tucked under an apple tree so not in any draughts.

The forecast is good for the next few days, so I should be able to tackle the compost and prune apple trees and set up my hornet traps and get prepared for spring, which isn't so far away now!  Have a good week!

 

Going out and about, and the 5 stages of 'flu

On the 31st January, I was out and about doing stuff.  It was a Red Day, so not appealing to be at home.  Poirot needed a vet visit to see how her eye ulcer was getting on, which then meant a visit to the pharmacy for more eye antibiotics.  The race horse that my brother owns a small portion of was due to race at Pau, so we also needed to pop into our friendly PMU (bar with bookie facilities).  Then of course there was the Friday evening ritual of a beer or two at our local to say goodbye to the week.  Sometime, somewhere in that lot, a nasty little green and many tentacled virus decided that I was its next best friend, and started to do its worst.

This leads to my empirical observations of the five stages of 'flu.

Stage 1 - Denial

I'm fine - that slight tickle in my throat means nothing.  OK, so there is a bit of snot, but the hazel catkins are full of pollen - it's just an early allergy.

Stage 2 - Complacency

I've had one cold already this winter, how bad can this be?  Just carry on doing the stuff I need to do, like feeding and giving medicine to cats, and thinking about stuff for clients.  I'll be fine.  OK so my throat hurts and my sinuses are full, but it is JUST A HEADCOLD.

Stage 3 - Fear

Well this is it - I'm going to die!  I can only breathe when sitting up, at which point I start coughing and exuding phlegm from every orifice, including my eyes!  Why did I watch trash TV this evening?  I'm having to relive that dreadful, badly acted story every hour thanks to my fevered state, and when not doing that, my mind is saturated with the images of patients in intensive care during Covid on artificial respirators.  

Stage 4 - Submission 

OMG it's 'flu!  I've got a fever, I can't smell the Vicks that I put on myself - surely a quarter of a jar is enough to smell something?  Let me just recline here (no lying down or I will die), and watch that spool of 20 really awful pop videos, because changing channels is too much effort.  Are 8 mugs of tea in a day too many?  

Stage 5 - Resolve

I will live, and next autumn I WILL, by hook or by crook, get a 'flu jab, because I am not going through that again, ever. Any my goodness, look at what a quarter of a pot of Vicks does to a sweatshirt!  That's an expensive mistake I mustn't repeat.

I remember when working in an office how colleagues would say they had been off for a day or two with the 'flu - well you had to say that, to get it past HR or you had an interview for malingering.  This is I think the third time in my life I have had 'flu and as with the other two times, it hits hard and takes ages to recover from.  The epidemic is now getting less here in France, but it is not something to take lightly.

I do still have those moments when I think "I'll sort that out, collect those books together, sort through that hard drive and clear it when I have a cold and I'm not up to doing anything outside".  This is foolishness and self-deception.  Even when you have a cold, all you want to do is lie on a sofa and watch mind rot - not that carefully scripted box set you want an excuse to watch again (The West Wing), not that faintly educational set of DVDs you've been keeping for a rainy day (Coast), just drivel.

While I was still happily in Stage 2 (Complacency), I worked through more wildlife videos, taken looking up a path we punched through a major bank of brambles.  There are odd animal runs among the stalks, but otherwise it is of limited value and we will be reducing it to a tactical minimum when we can.  Some of them are not as good as I initially thought, but that is Stage 2 Complacency for you!

The hen pheasants walk through it like so many Hinge and Brackets (for those of us who remember those two fine musical dames), while the cock pheasant follows where they lead.  I like that they can't walk in a straight line.

 

The boar use the path we have made - it is better than many they make themselves!  In this batch, note the different ages of boar, including young.  Boar are now producing two litters a year, which means numbers are exploding, an annoying consequence of global warming.  Sadly the hunters aren't much good at controlling them either.  It looks as though one of these may have been injured but it isn't possible to tell if it is a hunting injury.

 

 

I had placed the trail camera here in part to see if the hares were around at all.  Sadly there was no footage of them, but it turned out the area was part of the badger patrol area, and these are some of the best video shorts I've managed to get of them.  I'm so chuffed!

 

Anyway, I need more tea, so that's me done for the day.

Have a good week!

 

January blues

This week saw the (admittedly commercial) unhappiest day of the year - the third Monday in January, when your pay packet has nearly run out, the weather is pants, the days aren't really noticeably longer and your waistline hasn't recovered from the Christmas and New Year festivities. 

Bizarrely it didn't really affect us as being worse than any other day in January, even if it had been decreed Red for electricity purposes.  Instead, it is the sameness of the days at this time of year that gets to me.  In general (this year anyway), days are either cold, foggy, and uninspiring; bitingly cold and bright and faintly inspiring until I get too cold; or wet, muddy, mild, and annoying.  Each type does have it's beauty however, and the wet weather on Friday lead to this rather arty shot, as I stood by the second pond, in the rain, listening for birds.

The foggy day before the rain started, we were in the One Acre Wood, felling future firewood, and I spotted this rather dramatic fungus on old, decaying wood.

As as a point of optimism, one of us trod on this cowslip that was attempting to flower today, so spring will happen in due course.

With the wet and warmer weather, the electricity spot prices are falling, so Red days are behind us.  That means I can have the heater on in my office and work through the files from the trail cameras and start to load things on YouTube.

This week I focussed on the camera pointing up a well trodden path at the edge of the Meadow, lined by fruit trees on one side and a bank of brambles on the other.  Some of that is being removed, but not all, as it is a good shelter (when contained) for birds and small mammals.  There is a path we have punched through the bank of brambles on the left as you look up the hill.  Many of the photos are limited, not least as it was in place during the shortest, darkest months, but it is always nice to see a pine marten posing!

The path is used from time to time by boar passing through on their way to do damage somewhere else.  They may spend the day down in the marsh behind the plantation trees, or somewhere further afield.  The big poplar plantation along the valley has now been felled, so they aren't there, but there are pockets of woodland not too far away.  Family groups will roam quite long distances.

The deer find this point rather appealing as it gives them a few good exit routes and opportunities to keep an ear or an eye out for any predators (hunters in the main) that might be in the zone.

 If you watch this next video closely, you will see there is a deer in the field next door as well!

 

There are birds, as you can see above, in this corner of the Meadow, and not just small brown types, but you do find larger things too. like this flock of female pheasants out for a stroll.

There will be more from the pheasants when I put up the videos from the next camera I brought in, which was placed in the new path to see if anything was using it, other than us.  And I guess that means Spoiler Alert, the pheasants use it!

One of the benefits and comforts of mid-winter is a good log fire.  We have an insert with heat exchangers to the upper rooms in the house, so when it gets going, it helps take the edge off the first floor.  There is a nice fire downstairs now, so I think I will go and sit with it, rather than gazing at a computer screen!

Have a good week!

 

2024 in review

As complaining about Dunkelflaute is probably getting rather boring, I thought I would take the opportunity, in this first blog of 2025, to look back at the year just ended to see if it really was that grey and sad.

It didn't start well in January, with my new found status of orphan, when the world stopped for a while and bureaucracy took over.  I would love to say that all is sorted but French Red Tape and notaires take forever to deal with very simple things and it will be another wee while before I can close the books.

But life does go on and with February, we had our annual truffle fest, a bit later than normal as it took a while for prices to stabilise and for me to be able to concentrate on all things culinary!  I now have some really good truffle staple recipes, so that the failures and the "why did I bother?" moments are reduced.

In March we were harvesting the last of the vegetables sown or planted in 2023, which really was a rather good year for gardening.  The multicoloured carrots were a revelation, although for some reason there were no black ones, even though the seed packet firmly showed that there should be a full spectrum of colours.  The leeks were excellent too, but perhaps a bit too prolific!

It was a spectacularly wet year, and at Easter, there was the added excitement of potentially excessive and damaging floods in Chinon.  The Vienne rose inexorably, and as la Loire was also in flood, there was nowhere for the water to go.  While there were calls for evacuations, the floods peaked perhaps 40 centimetres below the danger level, but were still very impressive.

May is the peak season for wild orchids and I go mad trying to spot and photograph each bee orchid that flowers on our land.  The challenge is to get the best photo, in focus, nicely framed, and ideally with a gleam of sunshine.  It was quite a long season for them this year and there were some very lovely examples.

The trail cameras were in permanent use during 2024 and there are a few very rich locations for them to capture the wildlife that share the space with us.  Summer months also bring babies, and this year the coypu (sadly) did very well, bringing up four cubs, or whatever you call a baby coypu.  Ugly, that's for sure, even if most baby animals are cute.

While much of the gardening in 2024 was disappointing at best, we did get a very good harvest of onions for the first time ever.  We are still eating them indeed, which is pretty impressive.  I don't know why they did so well - the shallots and the garlic were complete disasters, but that is how it turned out.

August is Comice time, and 2024 was Vaulandry's turn.  I ended up spending a lot of time on the village float.  As part of an overall theme of "the call of the forest", we went for the story of Hansel and Gretel and the gingerbread house in the forest, complete with witch.  The weather wasn't helpful, with rain on the Saturday and overcast conditions on the Sunday, but the final product was pleasing.

September is the annual pig roast for our boule de forte society, and is something we always look forward to.  Once again, we were lucky with the weather - I do remember one year when rain took over and made things a bit odd, but for once 2024 played ball and it was a lovely day.

The year has been wet and there have been quite a few named storms.  Kirk was a particularly unpleasant one, mainly for the volume of water it dumped on us.  In order to attempt to get a sensible reading of the amount of rain, one of us had to empty the rain gauge when it got to 35 millimetres as it clearly wasn't stopping anytime soon!  A field above the land we rent had been harvested but not resown, and there was nothing to hold back the rain water so it took the roadside down.

Gardening was difficult in 2024, with heavy and waterlogged soil, lack of sunshine, lack of decent summer temperatures apart from a week in July, and therefore all manner of challenges to deal with.  The number and size of slugs was incredible and they got everywhere!  This one was trying to get to the last remains of the mango seed I managed to germinate before I evicted it - roughly 4 inches or 10 centimetres long and too big to interest any bird, other than perhaps a buzzard.

The figures are in for sunshine in 2024, and the local press talk about a deficit of 400 hours of sunshine across the year.  I did count at one stage towards the end of the year and got to 17 days without a glimmer of sun.  It's not healthy and we keep checking ourselves for rickets!  December ended the year in murk, but we have seen the sun in January, so let's hope for a brighter 2025!

Happy New Year!

 

The final days of 2024

A few days before Christmas, our elderly neighbour tapped on the door to complain that our grey chicken was making a mess of her garden.  I immediately went to check the chicken run, and all 5 and a half feathery demons were safely impounded, but closer inspection of her garden did show something that looked like chicken damage.  In order to investigate this, I brought home one of the trail cameras, that had been placed where I wanted a particular shot - more of that a bit later.  I cleared off the files and reset the camera with a view of the foot of the washing line posts in next door's garden, so it wouldn't catch anyone human's face or even feet, and left it for a week.  I wondered if a dog was popping in or a cat was being unhelpful. 

I retrieved the camera yesterday and checked.  The first image was a cat, not one of ours, but on our side of the fence.  The second was one of our cats and on our side of the fence.  The third was the rogue grey chicken, and yes, it was one of ours - Groucho!  The fourth image was a wild bird and that was it.

The shame of it!!

The trail camera had been placed overlooking the pond that used to have large fish in it, until it silted up and sprung a leak.  I was convinced it was used by boar for having the odd mud bath, so set the camera to see if I was right.  Most of the images were of birds using the shallow areas for bathing and drinking and questing for worms, but the first two files confirmed that boar will go in there for a plodge when the mood takes them.

There is also a short video of what he was getting up to.

That trail camera has now been reset and positioned somewhere else, and in about 10 days I will get another in for a check over and to download anything good.

Christmas happened - very quietly!  We have tried to be restrained with food, but scallops are in season, and there are the small matters of Christmas cake and Christmas pudding.  I'm sure we will be good in 2025 - or that's what we are telling the GP!

While in general the weather hasn't been conducive to nice long walks in the country, we did get out on Monday to do firewood.  It was a better day than most that we chose for that, and looking up in the One Acre Wood, there was a hint of blue in the sky and the occasional glint of sunlight.  

However when we went back yesterday to carry on the good work, the air was thick and moist and you could barely see 200 metres down into the valley.  On a good day from this point, you can see for over 5 kilometres!

There are rumours that the Dunkelflaute (see the week before last's blog) will dissipate in the New Year - I'll believe it when I see it.  Tomorrow is another Red Day for electricity prices, so while I am sure someone is making a lot of money in electricity generation, we will be huddled around the log fire or doing active things outside to keep warm, assuming we can find a way to energize ourselves!

Have a good week and enjoy your New Year celebrations, however you choose to mark the day.

 

It's that Christmas time of year

2024 is crawling towards its damp and muddy end - today adding strong winds to the mix.  Given the vile weather today, we took the advice of the television weather presenters and found fun indoors, going to the Baugé Christmas market.

For a small town, it packs above its weight in this regard.  Over three days, the cultural centre is taken over by craftspeople, food producers, wine makers, charities and Radio Parcay for a high quality event.  We spent a happy hour going round all the stalls.  We bought nougat from our favourite honey producer, an air plant for the bathroom, because it seemed a nice idea, and were tempted by a book by a local author.  He had a sculpture that visually described his profession in a bad French pun, which he happily explained to us as we were foreign, before telling us about his books. 

People were spending money which has to be good for the local economy, and we managed to miss any of the "special" events that were being put on by local music groups and musicians.  Indoors is too enclosed for a brass ensemble!

The village is nicely adorned with relatively low wattage Christmas lights, while town is festooned with them, as befits a Petit Cité de Charactere d'Anjou.  We can see a few from the house, but they are more in evidence when we walk to and from the pub on a Friday night.

This weekend, the hunters have been out, doing their best to bag a festive deer or boar for Christmas Day, although I'm not sure how lucky they have been.  There were a few fresh tracks in the Meadow and Orchard, as well as some festively coloured poo down by the ponds.  I'm not sure who the culprit is, possibly the pine martens.

A sure sign that winter is with us, is that the bird feeder is starting to get visited.  We put out fat balls from December to mid March for blue tits and great tits, and I think the long-tailed variety and tree creepers like them too.  We aim to attract tits as they will also attack the few nests of pine processionary caterpillars that we have in the pine trees.  Once they get into their stride, I will need to add four fat balls a week to the feeder, at the moment, it is just two every 10 days.

A gleam of brightness in the gardens is nice at this time of year, and some of the roses are putting out odd flowers.  The Silver Wedding rose we were given over 9 years ago has decided to bloom for Christmas, as it often does.  The white flowers are delicately scented and a joy when not much else natural is looking pretty.

So, not much more to be said today other than:

• Pay homage to your household gods
• Eat too much
• Drink too much (and DON'T drive)
• Count your blessings
• Spend time outdoors
• And have a lovely Christmas!

Until next week!

Cold, dull days

There is a German word, Dunkelflaute, which describes a gloomy, windless weather system, that is cold.  We have had that here for the past couple of months, interspersed with periods of just wet, windy and nasty.  Germany is currently suffering a major bout of Dunkelflaute, and that is placing a really heavy strain on the European electricity network.  Germany's electricity generation includes some 20GW wind capacity, and currently the turbines are not turning.  The knock on effect, combined with two country interconnectors being down, is that the power grids are doing all they can to reduce peak electricity use.  In the UK, you might spot a slight fluctuation down in power.  Here in France, if you are on the extremely interesting Tempo electricity contract, it translates into Red Days.  Days when daytime electricity is 3 times the unit price of the regulated tariff.  Tuesday to Friday was like that, and tomorrow will be too.  It is rather constraining!

The run into Christmas isn't totally fun when your feet and hands are always cold, and you are keeping the lights off as long as possible!  There are odd rays of joy - the very last cyclamen flowers are still going in the One Acre Wood for example.

There is little to photograph at the moment, as nothing much changes with the dull weather, and when you do take a photo, such as of a small amount of water in the lower pond in the Wood, it is singularly underwhelming.

I have had to resort to searching trail camera archives to find pretty photos.

The jay is handsome, although not as handsome as the male pheasant (who knows it too!).

However today, my spirit bird is this rather hacked off female pheasant.  I can feel my blood pressure boiling over the stupidity of HMRC and the unfairness of the amount of tax they suddenly feel I need to pay every month.  This is not good for me, so I need to go and find somewhere warm and cosy and try to forget about it all.  Being near computers only makes it worse!

Isn't she splendid?  Actually, just looking at her makes me feel better!

Anyway, I hope your week is not affected by Dunkelflaute, and now I had better get back to writing Christmas cards!

 

Reflections on Trail Cameras

It has been another strange week for us, with pretty nasty weather, friends over from the UK, a cat needing eye drops very frequently and weather that continues to depress.  While the good news is that we seem to have saved Poirot's eye, we are still on a regime of regular eye drops (two sorts, each every four hours) to shift the rather tenacious ulcer that caused the problem.

What has been going on the past couple of weeks, is that I have brought in for checks two out of the three trail cameras dotted around the Meadow and the Orchard.  I think we have had trail cameras for the past three years, and it has been a learning curve.  The first one was excellent, with a capability of checking what was on it remotely, well, about 6 feet away, and it took rechargeable batteries and was a delight.  But after about 18 months a small piece of plastic gave way, and as it was the on/off switch, it was quite an important bit of plastic, so a pity it wasn't stronger!.  Reluctantly, the supplier offered us a new one, as it was still within its two year guarantee, but as that model was no longer available, I had to go "posher".  The new one was Bluetooth and very funky, but didn't like rechargeable batteries, needed 12 AA batteries in any case, and basically blew up two SD cards.  After a lot of hassle I got that replaced, but I wasn't happy.  Instead I got a pack of three very simple trail cameras, taking rechargeable batteries, each only needing four AA batteries anyway, but with no remote or WiFi capability.

These have turned out to be excellent.  Robust, easy to understand, not overly heavy on batteries and I can put them up and leave them for 6 to 10 weeks and not worry about them.  When I bring them in for cleaning, a battery check and to download what is on the SD card, I then have a lot of work on my hands.

Assuming I have found a good place to put the camera (and that in itself is an art), I have anywhere between 200 and 2,000 files to go through and check.  I would say that between a third and a half of all files can be ditched easily - they are of my bottom walking away from the camera, or something interesting went past too fast for the camera to spring into life.

At first, I would also hang onto partial images - a fox's tail, a disappearing badger bottom, a blur of something that might be interesting.  Now I am more selective, although as with the image below, I've not a clue what it is, but it is big and interesting!

Quite often the photos are a bit blurred, although some are enchanting.  The videos take up a lot of space, and are a mixed bunch.  These badgers are lovely, but why do they have to be off to the right of the image?

Or something really interesting is going on but just a couple of metres too far away from the camera to be stunning.

Some things are nice, but could do with a bit more context.

Other captures would be really excellent if the wretched animal didn't decide to do most of what they were doing behind a tree!

Some would be great, if only the subject had decided to do the really interesting thing during daylight hours for that extra crispness.

Sometimes however, things are nearly perfect, and I could try to kid  you that they are deliberate!

And sometimes, not often, but sometimes, things work just right!  That magpie was just begging for his close up!

I know magpies aren't favourite birds, they are a bit mean and they make a lot of noise, but they act like they have characters.  I also didn't know they liked walnuts!

For anyone who is interested, the cameras are Num'axe PIE1066.  You do need an SD card reader to download the images as well, not supplied with the cameras.  Two have been attacked by deer and boar and have survived, and all have been covered in bird poo from time to time.

I hope you enjoyed the videos and have a good week.

 

Nursing duties

It's been a strange week, with memories of this time last year when my Mum broke a bone in her neck with all the attending panic and worry, added to nursing a poorly pusscat with an abscess behind her eye, while trying to get rid of the last vestiges of a nasty cold that has been doing the rounds.  Nursing duties for the cat have become more and more onerous (we don't begrudge her that), but it has been amusing to see how many of the medicines she has that I have also used, or my Mum needed to use after a corneal transplant.  We are now on drops every hour and a half or so, day and night (assuming we can wake up), and tomorrow we find out whether we have been able to save the eye or not.  I am not optimistic.  

I brought in a trail camera during the week - I wasn't convinced about the batteries, and quite rightly - it had stopped doing night time photos and videos at the end of October!  The change in the activity by this trail camera (it is a favourite position to leave one as there is a lot of activity) between the summer and October was extensive.  The ducks that used to waddle past most days are not to be seen at all.  There are only one or two shots of coypu and none at all of boar (although if they were around after dark, the camera wouldn't have picked them up as it was out of juice).  The pine martens are still in the zone and bouncing around very happily, which pleases me hugely.  One is larger than the other, so I'm not sure if it is a couple or parent and offspring.

There has also been some bird activity, with a Great Tit visiting more than once to see what might be lurking on the tree trunk by the camera.  We encourage this species as they have adapted to become predators of pine processionary caterpillars, which are nasty, non-native invasive dangerous critters.  There are a few caterpillar nests in the pine trees, so we do what we can with bird nest boxes and limited winter feeding to attract the birds that will predate.

The foxes are also around and there are some nice still photos that I need to work on to show what they are up to, but the stars so far of this batch of files have been the deer.  Any fear they have had in the past of the camera has gone and they quite happily stand by it and in front of it and show off their best and not so best sides!

 

 

 

It seems to me that deer spend a lot of time itching and waggling their ears.

After a certain amount of nagging, I made the Christmas cakes on Wednesday, so still in November but a little on the late side in my view.  They have already been "fed" once, and I will do them again shortly.  There is a wonderful stall in the market at la Flèche that sells loose preserved fruits, including not one, but two varieties of glacé cherries, three varieties of sultanas and 5 varieties of candied citrus peel, and is the only place I know in France to supply dried currants.  As I have stocks of treacle and the chickens provide eggs, while we have a fine range of our own eau de vie, there is no excuse for the cakes not being luxurious and alcoholic!  Here is the mixing, and if you are good, there may be a picture of the decorated cakes in due course.

This autumn is one of the wettest on record, so it should have been no surprise to us that the two small ponds in the One Acre Wood now have water in them, a full two months before our earliest sighting up to now (so in the last 18 years).  They are not natural ponds, but rather pits that were dug to provide clay for making bricks and roof and floor tiles (the chestnut coppice provided the heat to fire the bricks and tiles, while the few pine trees provided a resin to seal the tiles before baking).  As such they are on clay, but with years of leaf litter build up on top, and when the clay contracts when it is dry, the water soaks away.  Currently the clay is swollen with water and so the ponds form.  Newts and salamanders like them for breeding purposes, so I am hoping they will last and we will have lots of babies in the spring.

So now it is time for the next batch of cat eye drops - this time it is serum made from horse bodily fluids (so not one my Mum used to have), then in another hour and a half, it will be antibiotic eye drops, and so on all through to tomorrow afternoon.  We are fortunate that Poirot is a very gentle and forgiving old lady, and that she is very food orientated, which is making this process manageable on most levels.  I'm not keen on getting up in the night however!

Have a good week!

 

Unwelcome Autumn visitors

Late autumn often brings nasty surprises - tax bills for example - and we have had a number this week.  The last, but most impactful for me is a virulent head cold, which is making every task seem much larger than it really is and more painful too.  It will go in time - taking seven days if I use treatments, and a week if I let it run its course - but I am on day 3, normally the worst, and feeling sorry for myself.

Yesterday (so day 2 of nasal misery) I came face to face with another nasty surprise, an over wintering House Slug.  Not a normal slug: in its resting mode it was a good four inches (9cm) long and half an inch (one and a bit cm) wide, so clearly a flesh eating House Slug.  It was resting on the side of the pot that holds my tiny mango seedling, grown from a pip of a fruit given to us by our new neighbour, and it is the first time I've managed to get one to germinate.  The seedling was living quite happily in the garden until it got attacked by a slug or snail, so I put it indoors to be guarded by the Country Cats.  We had a discussion about how they were slacking, but they paid no attention.  I evicted the slug and hope it was found by a questing fox or buzzard.

We have had two nights with a slight frost this week, enough to further chill down the house after an October that hit the record books for being one of the two dullest (i.e. lack of sun) on record.  It was a relief on Monday to see a strange yellow glow in the sky, but it didn't last long.  

But in amongst all this gloom, there are some truly French things that remind me why we live here. 

There was a note in our post box a couple of weeks ago - "come along to my garage on Sunday morning for a wine tasting (there will also be nibbles)".  A neighbour has a chum with a vinyard over the border near Chinon, and once a year, they lay on a tasting of bottled wines and wines "en vrac", i.e. buy a canister and bottle it yourself.  We weren't much taken with the bottled offerings, but the "en vrac" was rather splendid, so we put in an order.  The word on the street was that the wine would arrive on Saturday evening.  So yesterday evening, along with a bunch of others, we strolled down the road with our wheelbarrow and brought back our 20 litres of finest Chinon red.

Which is a roundabout way of saying that I am going to take my festering head cold away from my freezing cold office and down to the warm, where I will help bottle 20 litres of red wine, which seems a very sensible way of spending a November evening!

Have a good week!