Gorgeous but unruly, just as we like it

13 May 2019

Friend C is in residence at La Fromagerie as I type, and has sent through some images for our barn-starved eyes to feast upon...

It all looks beautiful, albeit a trifle unruly, just as we like it.

It’s always a tricky balance to achieve: we want Nature to have her way, yet not run so rampant as to restrict our access to the margins of the property. John, our English paysagiste always shakes his head about the unfettered growth he has to deal with at each visit - he spends an inordinate amount of time clearing blades and replacing strimmer cord, and that’s not to mention the sheer volume of biomass to dispose of when he’s done.

And then there’s les voisins, who mutter darkly about les serpents when the grass gets out of hand...

We have, over the years, come to terms with the idea that, like it or not, we have to cut back the so-called 'meadows' (les prés) at least twice a year, if we are to avoid an impenetrable thicket. The grass grows to hip height and forms basal clumps if left alone, and John has often said that the growth at La Fromagerie outstrips that of the other properties he maintains. The local council comes by twice a year to trim the roads verges and hedgerows, and it makes some sense to take our cues from them.

So, the ‘meadows’ now get cut back twice a year, and the ‘paths’ every month in the growing season.
The hope is that, with this schedule, wild flowers will get a chance to flourish without being overwhelmed, while the small fauna in the ‘meadows’ will enjoy mostly undisturbed refuge.

Now that John is temporarily out of action following an nasty accident with a chain saw, we are forced to bring in another, this time local paysagiste.

Fingers crossed the new guy Guillaume will ‘get’ what we are trying to achieve, and won’t attempt to tame and manicure our little wild patch of heaven.

Wild and woolly

Planted last August, hence the Gothic weed mat backdrop

Panoramic view from Juliette balcony

In anticipation of Guillaume's arrival, friend C and I discussed the best access for the ride-on mower. (John doggedly used a strimmer for years, only venturing onto the property on his ride-on in the last nine months.) Access to the upper garden/orchard area is not a challenge - the bank is low alongside the porch - but access to the lower garden needed some thought.

Access from the road at this point was possible when we bought La Fromagerie, but our perimeter plantings deny it now

Back to the drawing board...

Not to scale and woefully inaccurate, but sketched from memory, and at speed

In the end, removal of the last metre or so of the grapevine, at the lower end next to the hazelnut and pear/quince, seemed the most obvious and simplest option. C set about making it happen and sent through before and after shots.

Before (note metal drum with compost to the right of the photographer's shadow)

After - the hazelnut and pear/quince have been trimmed back and the last vine support post and wire have been removed, leaving a vine tendril floating in the breeze

Next, it was a question of relocating the metal drum which was tucked beneath the hazelnut tree and which has been our informal compost heap to date. A new, probably temporary home was discussed and agreed: near Raymond's boundary fence.

Insect hotel and new friend, compost

All ready and poised to supervise and guide Guillaume...C found himself at the agreed time stranded by the capricious Renault in Objat :( Nevertheless, Guillaume came and went in a flash, cut way more than we wanted, and left behind a desolate landscape featuring decapitated mole hills and scalped grass. Points awarded for reliability and efficiency, though. Oh and bonus points for removing the vegetation.

(Stop press: John has announced his impending retirement, so we are in the market for a regular paysagiste...perhaps Guillaume will get the gig.)

Xavier, a local stonemason, has rebuilt the wall that suffered damage in a skirmish with an even-more-local truck 

And now, a sneak peek inside the barn...

Not too shabby

...and a glimpse of the garden's Spring delights (OK, so indulge me, people):

Photinia on ffyre

The broom is stunning

The foot of the terrace, showing some successes, some frost victims

The plum tree has grown, though I hear it has leaf curl :(

Just look at that lavender, those roses, the rosemary (too weighty for its own good)

The corner planting, just about to burst into full bloom, a beautiful oleander in the background

I only planted these little people - including the tufted lavender - last August!

Californian lilac - at its showy best

:)

The glycine clearly needs D for discipline

Lastly, a location shot of nearby sleepy-but-surprisingly-sophisticated Ayen:

Yes, that's right, folks: behind those closed shutters lurk enquiring minds and the ant-curious

Now we await the latest on the car, and then, next month, Tom gets going on the pergola.

Shady business

3 May 2019

As Autumn curls up on the sofa and reaches for a book, a cup of tea and a fluffly blanket here in Sydney, our thoughts turn inexorably and deliciously towards La Fromagerie, and Summer in France.

The things we didn't get around to and the ideas that were popping in our heads and dominating our return-flight conversations at the end of last Summer have started to percolate through the whirl of daily life on the other side of the planet.

Brexit be damned; distance - where be thy sting? We think, therefore we plan.

It's the Year of the Pergola. Much more appealing to the ear (OK, mine), than Year of the Pig.

We have long wanted a pergola over the gable end of the barn, to somehow welcome that special little space into the fold, and also to combat the fierce excesses of the Summer sun. (Need I remind you that, with the extended daylight, the heat of the day is still making its presence felt at 7pm?)  Last year, the heat was so intense in the afternoon that we resorted to closing the gable-end shutters and retreating indoors out of the furnace.

Our favourite pastime - sitting on the terrace with a cool drink at the end of the day's activities, the valley spread before us like a feast - was simply hors de question. Not negotiable. Non.

Finally, and, let me say, in desperation, since we didn't like the very domestic look against the agricultural barn, we went out and bought the largest umbrella money could buy. Well, it was big, OK? We also bought a few Turkish towels and cunningly hung them vertically from the western edge of the umbrella sail. It looked OK, not great, but it did give us some relief and we were able to open the shutters too.

Dinner on the terrace, unimaginable before the Bedouin tent

...and tea, there's always time for tea.

Not pretty, but practical 

Pinterest, Google images, SketchUp, good ol' pencil and paper - and OK, yes, raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens - are a few of my favourite things, all pressed into service in trying to design the pergola. We'd decided early on that it should not attempt to match or compete visually with the existing porch; that it should be made of steel, and that the posts and beams would be relatively fine. The idea was to train climbers  - vines, clematis, rose and wisteria all contenders - up the posts so as to soften the metal and blur the hard edges.

Took me ages...

...not to scale, or anything...

...quand même, I'm rather pleased with my efforts...

Of course, it would take years for the growth of said climbers to provide any serious shade, so, in the meantime (to quote G), a canopy of shade cloth will have to suffice.

So, the last few weeks have seen a to and fro between Tom and G and me, as we try to define and refine our pergola. Three posts, or four; horizontal beam across the gable wall, or not; how many cross braces; how to secure the outer posts in the the ground; which direction to lay the stainless steel cross wires...G has finessed it with shadow studies, and we are signed off on colour (anthracite grey, or RAL 7016, to be precise).

...albeit totally eclipsed by G's diagram, complete with end-of-July shadow study ;)

It promises to look good! No apologetic add-on such as one can pick up at any large hardware store and erect in a weekend, this. It promises to be visually striking, yet restrained, assertive, yet not dominant. Let's hope it doesn't detract from the barn, or reduce the valley view.

Now we await Tom's final devis, and we can get the ball rolling. We've agreed that Tom will prioritise the pergola (hopefully meaning it will be up before we arrive), and will defer the pointing of the last remaining outside wall until his schedule allows, later in the year. The last wall to point is the one nearest the boundary, which we've left until last as it has been the most protected from the weather by the close proximity of J-M's cabane.

Bring on the end of June, when we arrive at La Fromagerie for our Summer break.