Wettest winter in 50 years...

3 April 2018

...and cold, with it.

Well, that's officially a real winter, isn't it? J-M and the locals should be happy - they've been muttering darkly about the absence of real winter weather in recent years, which - they reckon - ruins the harvest in later months.

I guess they might know what they're talking about - they, or their forebears, have been growing things on this land for generations.

So, while we enjoyed the last sultry days of a protracted Sydney summer, La Fromagerie struggled through, dreaming of the benevolence of spring while fastidiously scraping mud from her boots.

John's photos are testament to the growth, and it is gratifying to see.

Since the latest batch of photos always brings on an attack of acute-on-chronic homesickness, I pore over every detail and, of course, want to see things that are inevitably and frustratingly just out of frame. I want to know how every last plant is doing - are there signs of life, buds, flowers, even? Or has the severity of winter cut an unforgiving swathe through all those tender parts?

Have the pink, white and cerise laurier roses (oleanders) grown; do they screen René's pink house a little more? Is the new white Buddleia OK? And what about the two new roses, alongside the dépendance? Has the glycine taken the hint and started to climb the oak frame of the porche?

And then there's my insect hotel - has it survived the punishing buffets of the winter wind?

The Photinia is looking good...

In the photo below, you can see that John has pruned back the hazelnut within an inch, or more accurately 150cm of its life. It's now dwarfed by the wild pear tree. Rumour has it that the vine has been pruned by J-M since the photo was taken ;)

For those of you with nothing better to do than indulge in a bit of armchair gardening, check out the reasonably perky rose and rather bedraggled hortensia in the foreground, and spot the glycine bud creeping around from behind the oak post...and the pink blossoms on the peach tree to the left.

Raymond's house is still à vendre and does not improve with the keeping, if I may say so....The gaura looks a bit winter weary, but the Buddleias and laurier roses are OK. Can't quite make out the dwarf rhododendron in the right foreground...
A $10 meat tray to the first person who notices the insect hotel. It's gratifying to see that it's still vertical, though possibly guest free. 

A random photo of the wild flowers - specifically, cowslip

The bâche is still lying where we left it, weighed down with stones and iron wheel rims. Hopefully, it has suppressed the growth of grass and weeds, so that preparing the herb garden will be easier this summer.

Les taupes s'amusent ;)

As for G, his main focus is 'his' prunier, a rather puny sapling when he planted it in September...

To all you fashionistas out there, I solemnly declare that the offending footwear remains in the garden at all times.  

...and there it is, on the left, valiantly holding its own. Hmm, not sure that it has grown at all, but hey, it's alive!

Next instalment - changes to the dépendance!

Day tripping

20 August 2016

My days have been dominated by digging holes for new plants and planting lots of shrubs, both in the new rockery around the terrace and to fill in some gaps in the peripheral plantings. I've got scrambling roses and lavender installed in the rockery, with blue hydrangeas near the oak posts, and I've put in a glycine too (think cascading blue blossoms in spring). The plan is to use two old metal straps we found in the barn to offer support as it climbs skyward. Yesterday I planted a white buddleia, a pink hydrangea and a yellow/red broom around the periphery of the property.

G has spent time lagging the ballon (buffer tank) with fibreglass, while daughter C is on permanent tea fatigues in between applying for jobs in London and flicking through Paris Match. As usual, our outdoor activities end long after the 7pm bells and then we enjoy an obligatory cold beer and nibble before settling down to making a simple meal at 9pm or thereabouts. I don't think I've read more than a page of my book since we arrived. I've got the rest of the year to do that, after all.

On Thursday we had our now-annual get-together with a branch of the family living in France - this time chez nous. A lovely, relaxed lunch and the obligatory self-timer photo afterwards, for prosperity (as G likes to say). Even Big Matt was included in the frame (though our feet were not).

Yesterday we gave ourselves the day off and headed for Cahors, a city of special significance for me as it was there that I stopped for a rest day on Le Chemin (GR 65), what was it? - three years ago? I stumbled into town on that hot July afternoon after a monster day of walking 35 kms across the Causse du Lot in mid-30 degree heat, to receive a warm welcome and cool drink from the volunteers who man L'Octroi at the south entrance to the city. They called a few hebergements on my behalf, organised a night's accommodation for me, plied me with glass after glass of cold lemon squash and, in the cool of that tiny building, I was gently pulled back from the brink of heat exhaustion.

The next day I could not keep still, despite aching feet, so explored the centre ville incredibly slowly, courtesy of painful feet. Then I discovered Cahors plages and spent a couple of happy hours dozing and reading on a sun lounger under an Hawaiian fringed umbrella on the river bank. Bronzed, unsupervised children leapt in and out of the river, swam to the centre pontoons and cavorted in youthful summer exuberance. It was wonderful to observe.

Cahors is fascinating and photogenic and is pleasantly busy without being overrun with cars and people. The main road is lined with tall poplars and plane trees and the white-paved boulevard Gambetta is a-sparkle with fountains and rose gardens. Yesterday I took G and C on a guided tour of 'my Cahors', retracing my steps and rediscovering, with them, the medieval vieux ville and the hidden picturesque delights of this characterful city. It was wonderful to share it with them, and also slightly unsettling. I had the urge to once again lace up my boots, heave my pack onto my back, pick up my walking poles, and be off up the trail, following les balisages en rouge et blanc...

Miamm Miamm 

Pont Valentré

It was hot; what can I say?

We enjoyed lunch and Pelforths in a simple cafe before heading over to the cobbled Pont Valentré, where the GR65 heads up and away westwards. We watched as several pèlerins made their way up the steep rocky path and were quickly lost to view.

One day soon that will be me. That's a promise.

A hive of activity

27 March 2016

The barn has been a hive of activity over the last week or so and promises to be so for the next few weeks...

Tom delivered the new oak frame last weekend, and this last week began work on the covered porch. John came by and tidied up the garden, strimming around the meadow areas and doing battle with 2-foot dock plants :). And then, towards the end of the week, Laurie started the preparations for painting the interior of both barn and dépendance.

It's all very exciting!

Here are the latest photos of the garden. It's been a mild winter, so everything is looking pretty happy.

The new Laurier to the right of the Buddleia is looking OK!

A good view of the tamed fig tree, and the edge of the untamed meadow!

The skeleton of the vine is visible along the fence in the middle distance; the walnut tree is beyond.

One day, the shrubs we planted along the perimeter will obscure the road and maybe even the neighbour's pink house/barn! 

OK, so I know the weed mat is not pretty, but it certainly does the job. And I am pleased to see that my lime/sand mixture has kept the weeds at bay :)

Look at these guys! They are growing beautifully! Look how wintry the hillsides are...

That's Chabrignac, away in the distance

Fig tree in the starring role, again.

Spring is in the air and it's almost too much to bear, contemplating all the activity and growth at this remove.

Roll on July 28th...