Tuesday, August 27, 2019

The summer of love and pop-up infinity pools

21 August 2019

Love, amour, amor.

OK, you say, we get it, yadayadayada. But why?

Well, assuming we don’t want to get into a whole philosophical discussion about the reason for being, let me explain.

Simples.

Daughter C is getting married to her Argentinian man, L,  and, during the week she spent with us chez nous in France, the conversation veered happily and repeatedly towards all-things-wedding. The date (mid-September), form (civil union, followed by fiesta en casa - See? I'm nearly trilingual), size (intimate)... The ‘save the date’ invites were designed and sent off in PDF form (it's a bran noo world). Much discussion about Argentinian vs Australian expectations, current norms and traditions. A few tears. Even the bride-to-be got emotional at times.

Luckily for us, the Universe delivered a blistering canicule, with temperatures hovering stubbornly in the high 30s and low 40s for days on end; the nights, too, were uncomfortably sticky. But I say 'luckily', because it gave me an opportunity to dust off and inflate the paddling pool. You remember: it made its debut appearance to rapturous acclaim the year we and friend M put in the kitchen cupboards.

At first, G, C and visiting niece L showed a remarkable lack of enthusiasm to engage with our pop-up infinity pool under the pommier, but the extreme heat wore down their defences, as I knew it would. Soon we were sitting, hip deep in the water, glass of chilled rosé in hand, celebrating our resourcefulness and pitying those less fortunate than ourselves. You know, with aircon and/or zero imagination.

Lucky, too, that, being early in the season, we were spared the sudden splash-down re-entry of little green apples. Mostly.



Struggle Street

On one particularly cosy day - the forecast maximum undecided between 41 and 42 - C, G and I chose the coolest thing we could think of to escape the heat. We spent most of the day in Brive, shopping for The Dress. Locals shake their heads knowingly when you tell of this folly: the Bassin de Brive is notorious for trapping heat. Noone in their right mind would brave the hot, bright (though charmingly cobbled) streets of Brive city centre during a heatwave. C’est fou! Dingue!

Mais, quand même, we three did just that. G came and went, meeting up with his ‘gals’ at various intervals, until he finally just gave up the unequal struggle and lurked in the shade to await A Decision.

G modelling impeccable posture in Brive centre
Weddings - what can I say?

Our tenacity and fortitude were eventually rewarded when, having tried on countless dresses, C found a dress TDF, in a very exclusive boutique. I'm here to report that G displayed unnatural calm throughout the payment process. It must have been the heat.

Later, I, too, found my outfit, in another schmancy boutique. G seemed very happy for me.

This is not it :)

























It was a summer of love in all its many forms: family, friends, good food, good life.

* Niece L came to stay for the first time at La Fromagerie and her visit overlapped with that of daughter C. There's nothing quite as special as family: there's no ice to break, and no need to stand on ceremony; the elapsed time between visits dissolves and it all feels comfortingly familiar.




* Friends M and D came to stay and toiled uncomplainingly on my Dead Hedge project, despite never quite understanding the concept :)

Heath Robinson and friends make a start on the Dead Hedge
Football? Yawn

* We indulged ourselves left, right and centre with yummy food and drinks.

Une tarte au framboise, or, a Life's Too Short to Deny Oneself flan














Rosé Juillacoise
Ooh, our coffee-making skills are on the up and up
* We had new local livestock scampering in and out of the cabane next door.

Naww
Two of the three kittens showed more confidence - #3 hiding was hiding in the gloom

























* This was the Year of the Pergola, remember? It's a fantastic new addition to the barn and we liked it more and more as time went on.

At first, it was a bit stark...




Artsy photo by daughter C
...but soon we got going and planted up climbers around the posts - glycine, grapes, roses, clematis, chèvrefeuille.


This summer, la canicule meant it was too hot to cope without the Bedouin tent, but come next year...


The concrete bases to the posts were uncompromisingly ugly, but we came up with a cunning plan to obscure them. I've wanted to make gabions forever! Whaddayarekkin?


Just a little corner of floral happiness beneath the pergola

* We zoomed about in a cute little Italian-Riviera rental (don't get me started on why, when we have a perfectly lovely, though capricious, old Renault Clio which - naturally - became reliable as anything when the Fiat came to stay - eye-roll emoticon).

A perfect work horse...
...but particularly suited to indolent afternoon outings to picturesque towns 

* Our loyal neighbour J-M gave us produce and showed kindness at every opportunity.



* We were truly livin' the dream in France.





La Fromagerie hazelnut 
Says it all, really
The glycine was growing up into the porch roof, so will need to be watched and disciplined
Compare the two photos...and

...spot 10 differences
We never said we were sophistiqué


Fig foraging 
Aix-sur-Vienne dreaming away a hot afternoon



At the end of the summer holiday, I always like to reflect on What We Achieved. This year, the standouts for me are:

* Training the grape vines up and over the pergola wires

Lots of precarious ladder work
* Making the gabions - involving many wheelbarrow- and arm-loads of stones (not as quick and easy at it looks!)

We made the gabions out of stones recovered from the renovation
* The planting of - what was it? - 16 plants around the base of and between the pergola posts

Chèvrefeuille to be trained up vertical chains




* Making the new wildflower patch - involving the removal of the tarp (left in place for two years of weed suppression),  the sowing of wildflower seeds around a donated Acanthus mollis as centrepiece, and the demarcation with old oak roof poutres from the original barn roof

A bit Dodge City, but hey
and lastly - and oddly satisfying -

* Constructing the dead hedge, for prunings and dead wood, which should reduce the car loads taken to the déchetterie - involving labour-of-love weaving with La Fromagerie hazel switches.

At first, simply a parallel row of sturdy posts to contain the wood


Hazel switches cut from our own noisetier


On the last day, G rigged up two cctv cameras - one in the barn, trained on the front door, but motion sensitive and capable of reading the thermometer, and one gazing out the shutterless window of the dependance onto a sliver of driveway, barn porch and apple tree.

Already, we have received numerous motion detection alarms, each with 12 seconds of footage, from the dép one. There have been many 'intruders': a spider, a cat, a curious neighbour, a lizard, a little green bug, lightning in the distance, the paysagiste speeding around on his ride-on, and the waving arms of the pommier in a storm.

It's a wonderful connection to the place we call home.