Easter weekend slid by in a blur of alternating daytime fatigue and nocturnal wakefulness. It was interesting for us that the French work on Good Friday and Easter Saturday, shops are closed on Sunday (though markets are unaffected) and it's business as usual on Easter Monday. So, not much of a long weekend hereabouts, then. We woke on Easter Sunday to a concerto of church bells, which was lovely; in fact, being so close to the church, the first thing I hear each morning is church bells and doves.Over the weekend, we spent some time sampling the delights of various shops - looking for a hand basin to suit upstairs (the one we chose last summer being out of production now), researching budget kitchen options (nil), and stocking the little fridge in our studio accommodation ready for our customary daily picnic.
On Sunday we wandered round the local market and bought fruit, cabecou (chêvre) and olive oil soap before heading off for lunch with our estate-agent-now-friend Vero, her husband Erik, and their daughter Camille. We lost count of the courses - an incredible meal - and what fun we had. Then back home via the barn and tea with our new (English) neighbours.
The weather has been changeable: heavy marching rain clouds and bursts of sunshine; chilly nights but pleasant days. We've been glad of the shelter in the barn, which, though empty and of course still unheated, nevertheless provides a secure, dry base through the windows of which to watch the weather in the valley below.
The kitchen saga has run its course. We have decided after all to stick to plan A and use the cupboard with the stainless steel surface that we found at Troc last summer. It isn't a brilliant fit, so it's not going to be efficient or sophisticated, but we like it, and we will cobble together other bits and pieces as we find (or can afford) them. The kitchen business is a licence to print money. That's all I'm saying.
This afternoon, with a huge bank of storm clouds building overhead, we had fun at the local plant nursery, choosing various hedging plants that will help screen us from the road below. We had the brilliant idea of spreading weed mat in the car to protect it :) Who needs a camion, when a brand-new VW Polo hire car will do? You can see from the photos that the storm cleared and we had a warm afternoon.
By contrast, the self-seeded walnut tree which emerges on the road side of the dépendance (and which will one day destroy it), is already in leaf...Back at the barn, we unpacked the plants and then spent the next hour or so chatting with one neighbour or another as they wandered past on their daily constitutional. I use the term 'chatting' loosely, you understand. They seem, to a (wo)man, enthusiastic about the barn. But I find every last one of them almost impossible to understand (their local accents and my fragile French a killer combination), so if their opinion is unfavourable, I remain in blissful ignorance!
Tomorrow, we'll start planting - very exciting. Until the inevitable arm-numbing 'Ting!' as the bêche hits the ardoise slate lurking just below the surface, that is.
We have yet to start painting the shutters - perhaps next week?
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