Dear All,
The summer is drawing to a close, the virginia creeper is no longer verdant and we have had enough fecking water from on high to fill all the empty resevoirs in the south of old blighty and some. It has pluied big time and this has proved challenging at times. As Sonia and I reflect on a quiet evening we smile inwardly ( in between the Braxton - Hicks contractions) as we recall the time we awoke at three of a morning and remember we have left all the doors and windows open in the cottage. A force ten gale is depositing the contents of the Atlantic in the main bedroom and kitchen. We then discover that a little man has taken a hosepipe and is merrily watering the inside of the barn and utility room. There was no little man just so much water pouring down the gullies (which had blocked with moss and old slate) that it has backed up and overflowed. I have overcome my vertigo and have spent many a joy-filled moment rummaging in my gullies.
The French like an excuse for a holiday. If you are a Saint in France the chances are you have a day named after you and the kids get an extra day off school to boot. But we are also blessed by the Felibre. Essentially there are 20 towns/Communes in our area on a rota to host each years Felibree., And this year it was Ste Foy de la Grande. The town is sealed off to all motorised vehicules.Each entry point is manned/womanned by little house on the prairie types and all the streets are decorated with toilet paper. Which is probably why the bidet was invented. They have spent the last six months making triffids,signs and enough strings of flowers to circle the Earth 2.7 times.So we popped along to take a butchers. Lots of dancing, old tractors, bars, animals and old people collapsing in the heat, so all in all there was something for everyone and we had a joyeous day out.
Why do children like camping and why do I do it with them? You share a sweaty cramped space with something which appears completely oblivious to its surroundings, has taken 20 times the recommended dose of sleeping tablets (and thus comatose) but simultaneously uses its limbs like the sails on a windmill, smacking you in the chops every half hour or so.There is not enough space to swing a cat let alone your daughter who has morphed in to a rabbit ( see photos if you are confused) and your son demonstrates his pyromania. The simple answer is your wife isn't stupid.
I feel we may indeed becoming more rural. Felix likes nothing better than getting camoflaged and heading off to reduce the size of our lapin population. Talking of which I would like to declare that our enclosure is now free of this pest as I have not seen one, or its jobby for nigh on two months. As a result the chicken wire has come down and our plants run free without fear. Now all we have to do is make sure we don't leave the gates open.Ellie gets mightily upset if I 'peel' a recent acquisition without her. She finds rural anatomy lessons on the patio absolutely fascinating. 'Is that its jobby?' and other inquisitive phrases fill the air as the dew vapourises under the heat of the rising sun. Really quite picturesque?
On a disappointing note Rocket and Rosie are definitely not like rabbits. They have been with us for over two months and we have not seen so much as a glimpse of an ingredient for our omlettes There has been much heated debate as as what to do with the first arrival and I have been out-voted and Rosie will be allowed to become a mother.
The potager (veg patch) has been mega this year. We have our very own Courgette mountain, which has resulted in me making courgette chutney(surprisingly good) and courgette and ginger jam (interesting) to go with the elderberry jelly, plum jam, blackberry jelly( the second batch just wouldn't set) and wild cherry jam. Currently we are experiencing an aubergine glut. You know they say pets look like there owners well I feel there is a striking resemblence between our aubergines and Son and I. Once griddled and marinaded in a balsamic and olive oil dressing they are tops.
The patch out the back has also been providing fare for the table. Not the Cage fungus Clathrus ruber( red cage like looking fungus see photos) which stinks. But buckets of Vesse de loup, which apparently translates as quiet farts of the wolf, but I know as puff balls. Felix has experimented in transplanting these little white bundles of spores in a hope of bringing them on, unfortunately he was not successful. We have also had giant puffballs in profusion which are truly amazing as they expand before your eyes. Not too dissimilar to my dear lady wife, who thought Ollie was enroute the night before last.
We had some very easy going guests in the gite so Son decided we needed to get away and give the kids a holiday.So off to Chateau Moulliepied (near Saintes) where Felix and Ellie fished for crayfish. Palmyre Zoo to feed the giraffes popcorn and the obligatory beach to comb and have jellyfish fights on. I had forgetten how incredibly smelly slowly decomposing meduse are. On our return we found that our guests had had a deluge which had leaked down the old chimney stack into their bedroom and a smoke alarm had gone off at 05.30am in our store room which was the other side of the wall behind their bed. Ho hum. Amazingly enough they were very chilled out about this and thanks to them I have been feeling c**p for the last 24 hours or so, as we shared a selection of produce from various vinicultural centres.
In an attempt to improve our french Son and I go to a shed in the forest. In this shed there is a retired headteacher, an interesting aroma of fungal spores, and the largest collection of Thomas Hardy videos ever seen. For 20 Euros we spend between 70 minutes to almost 2 hours getting his life history, the history of Mussidan and its environs, oh and occassionally we do some French too. We have been made familiar with the past conditional, the past historic and various other useful grammatical nuances.
Down by the river I have been a playing with my strimmer and me ride on. Now you can see the water,admire the fish and the flash of blue which is our resident kingfisher. We have a family of water voles which are as blind and as deaf as a Sonia in bed with her ear plugs in and eye patches on. You can get so close you could scratch behind their ears before they realise you are there, and plunge back into the L'Isle.
The kids are back at school so it is really quiet, however I feel this definitely the proverbial quiet before the storm as it is only six weeks to Ollie's expected arrival. Having said that I think Son is under the impression he is going to join us before his due date.
Anyway I am off to pick some figs from a friends garden to make some jam and to ensure I am regular, so by for now.
Love Tone xxx
The summer is drawing to a close, the virginia creeper is no longer verdant and we have had enough fecking water from on high to fill all the empty resevoirs in the south of old blighty and some. It has pluied big time and this has proved challenging at times. As Sonia and I reflect on a quiet evening we smile inwardly ( in between the Braxton - Hicks contractions) as we recall the time we awoke at three of a morning and remember we have left all the doors and windows open in the cottage. A force ten gale is depositing the contents of the Atlantic in the main bedroom and kitchen. We then discover that a little man has taken a hosepipe and is merrily watering the inside of the barn and utility room. There was no little man just so much water pouring down the gullies (which had blocked with moss and old slate) that it has backed up and overflowed. I have overcome my vertigo and have spent many a joy-filled moment rummaging in my gullies.
The French like an excuse for a holiday. If you are a Saint in France the chances are you have a day named after you and the kids get an extra day off school to boot. But we are also blessed by the Felibre. Essentially there are 20 towns/Communes in our area on a rota to host each years Felibree., And this year it was Ste Foy de la Grande. The town is sealed off to all motorised vehicules.Each entry point is manned/womanned by little house on the prairie types and all the streets are decorated with toilet paper. Which is probably why the bidet was invented. They have spent the last six months making triffids,signs and enough strings of flowers to circle the Earth 2.7 times.So we popped along to take a butchers. Lots of dancing, old tractors, bars, animals and old people collapsing in the heat, so all in all there was something for everyone and we had a joyeous day out.
Why do children like camping and why do I do it with them? You share a sweaty cramped space with something which appears completely oblivious to its surroundings, has taken 20 times the recommended dose of sleeping tablets (and thus comatose) but simultaneously uses its limbs like the sails on a windmill, smacking you in the chops every half hour or so.There is not enough space to swing a cat let alone your daughter who has morphed in to a rabbit ( see photos if you are confused) and your son demonstrates his pyromania. The simple answer is your wife isn't stupid.
I feel we may indeed becoming more rural. Felix likes nothing better than getting camoflaged and heading off to reduce the size of our lapin population. Talking of which I would like to declare that our enclosure is now free of this pest as I have not seen one, or its jobby for nigh on two months. As a result the chicken wire has come down and our plants run free without fear. Now all we have to do is make sure we don't leave the gates open.Ellie gets mightily upset if I 'peel' a recent acquisition without her. She finds rural anatomy lessons on the patio absolutely fascinating. 'Is that its jobby?' and other inquisitive phrases fill the air as the dew vapourises under the heat of the rising sun. Really quite picturesque?
On a disappointing note Rocket and Rosie are definitely not like rabbits. They have been with us for over two months and we have not seen so much as a glimpse of an ingredient for our omlettes There has been much heated debate as as what to do with the first arrival and I have been out-voted and Rosie will be allowed to become a mother.
The potager (veg patch) has been mega this year. We have our very own Courgette mountain, which has resulted in me making courgette chutney(surprisingly good) and courgette and ginger jam (interesting) to go with the elderberry jelly, plum jam, blackberry jelly( the second batch just wouldn't set) and wild cherry jam. Currently we are experiencing an aubergine glut. You know they say pets look like there owners well I feel there is a striking resemblence between our aubergines and Son and I. Once griddled and marinaded in a balsamic and olive oil dressing they are tops.
The patch out the back has also been providing fare for the table. Not the Cage fungus Clathrus ruber( red cage like looking fungus see photos) which stinks. But buckets of Vesse de loup, which apparently translates as quiet farts of the wolf, but I know as puff balls. Felix has experimented in transplanting these little white bundles of spores in a hope of bringing them on, unfortunately he was not successful. We have also had giant puffballs in profusion which are truly amazing as they expand before your eyes. Not too dissimilar to my dear lady wife, who thought Ollie was enroute the night before last.
We had some very easy going guests in the gite so Son decided we needed to get away and give the kids a holiday.So off to Chateau Moulliepied (near Saintes) where Felix and Ellie fished for crayfish. Palmyre Zoo to feed the giraffes popcorn and the obligatory beach to comb and have jellyfish fights on. I had forgetten how incredibly smelly slowly decomposing meduse are. On our return we found that our guests had had a deluge which had leaked down the old chimney stack into their bedroom and a smoke alarm had gone off at 05.30am in our store room which was the other side of the wall behind their bed. Ho hum. Amazingly enough they were very chilled out about this and thanks to them I have been feeling c**p for the last 24 hours or so, as we shared a selection of produce from various vinicultural centres.
In an attempt to improve our french Son and I go to a shed in the forest. In this shed there is a retired headteacher, an interesting aroma of fungal spores, and the largest collection of Thomas Hardy videos ever seen. For 20 Euros we spend between 70 minutes to almost 2 hours getting his life history, the history of Mussidan and its environs, oh and occassionally we do some French too. We have been made familiar with the past conditional, the past historic and various other useful grammatical nuances.
Down by the river I have been a playing with my strimmer and me ride on. Now you can see the water,admire the fish and the flash of blue which is our resident kingfisher. We have a family of water voles which are as blind and as deaf as a Sonia in bed with her ear plugs in and eye patches on. You can get so close you could scratch behind their ears before they realise you are there, and plunge back into the L'Isle.
The kids are back at school so it is really quiet, however I feel this definitely the proverbial quiet before the storm as it is only six weeks to Ollie's expected arrival. Having said that I think Son is under the impression he is going to join us before his due date.
Anyway I am off to pick some figs from a friends garden to make some jam and to ensure I am regular, so by for now.
Love Tone xxx
