A tale of two trees and twenty years

Our Cypress trees today

A tale of two trees and twenty years

We have reached a French life milestone, and tonight, we will be popping the cork on a bottle to celebrate twenty years living in a rural village in the Deux-Sèvres. 

The week we moved in, trees in their pots

 

When we arrived in France in August 2004, part of our lorry load of worldly possessions included four potted Cypress trees, all rather spindly and under two metres tall. This was back in the pre-Brexit days when moving plants was as easy as moving people, but from the Burke Bros Global Relocation company website, I can see it’s nowhere near as easy now. With each pot requiring a phytosanitary certificate issued by DEFRA, at a minimum of £186.68, I’m quite sure we wouldn’t have bothered. It was Burke Bros who we used when we moved, and although our furniture had been in storage with them for a month, they made a special stop on their way to the ferry just to load up the plants that had been sitting in Adrian’s parents’ garden – we certainly couldn’t fault their service. You can read their full article on the new rules for moving plants to France here.

Summer 2005, the new terrace

The first few summers in France, our trees sat proudly in their pots, two marking the double doors leading from the lounge and two by a bench at the side of the garden, under the plum and hazelnut trees. 

 

Once we’d cleared a corner of the courtyard to create a terrace space, ironically by removing a lot of ivy and a huge bushy pine tree, we discovered a pretty stone wall and decided just in front of it would be the perfect forever place for the trees. In hindsight, potting all four into the new bed meant they were way too close together, so not surprisingly, nature sorted out the two strongest and the other two died off.

 

Look at them now. Not only are they tall and majestic, but they are full of life. As we enjoy a cup of lemon and ginger tea in bed each morning, we watch bird after bird landing on the branches, before hopping inside. This creates a scruffy shape which Adrian isn’t so keen on, but knowing sparrows, chaffinch, goldfinch, blackbird and more, are all happily nesting, safely within their tight foliage, never fails to make me smile.

 

These trees are just one reminder that we have put roots down here, we too have created new lives for ourselves, and this is especially true for Ed. He was tiny like the trees when we arrived but has now flown our nest and is happily living his own life. He is working full time in a job where he is surrounded by music, a young and dynamic team, and working for a company who are supportive of his musical dreams. He is in a band who rehearse for two hours every Monday evening, writing their own material as well as creating their own take on cover versions. They have an energy and chemistry on stage and a ‘bring the house down’ atmosphere at gigs. He has also been with Pearl for five years now, and we couldn’t be prouder parents. 

 

Our lives have changed a lot, but I still can’t believe it’s been twenty years, especially as if you look closely in the photos, you will see we are still using the same green plastic table on the terrace.

 

There have been many times when it has been hard work, challenging, frustrating and scary (think Brexit – the repercussions of which are still rippling under the surface). Above all, however, it’s been rewarding and a fantastic experience, that has enabled us to achieve so many things I could never have imagined when we set off on our dream adventure, middle-aged and naïve, twenty years ago.

 

I wouldn’t change a thing. This week, like many, has been one where our feet haven’t touched the ground, and I can’t wait to share our latest adventure in my next post. As a teaser, here is a pic from a photoshoot taken by Stella who just happens to work for the tourism section of the Deux-Sèvres Departement.

In the Marais Poitevin, © S.Bonnet

 

You can read my older posts about our first days in France here:

Our first night in France 

Arriving in Poitou-Charentes 

At the Notaires 

Moving into our new home in France 

  

Smile, it's World Naked Gardening Day 2021

A spot of weeding in the sun for World Naked Gardening Day 2021 

Smile

Welcome to May, where there is plenty to celebrate today; May Day, Fête du Travail and World Naked Gardening Day, plus the sun is out and I can almost smell the freedom of deconfinement.

 

A bunch of lily of the valley to bring you happiness

May Day

On 1^st May, in France, there is a lovely tradition of offering a small bunch of Lily of the Valley to your friends, to bring happiness or bonheur for the coming year. Since 1^st May last year we have lived through eighty-four days of confinement and over a hundred days of nightly curfews, so anything that offers the promise of happiness or raises a smile, works for me.

Stepping out naturally for World Naked Gardening Day 2021

 

World Naked Gardening Day #WNGD

The first Saturday in May is World Naked Gardening Day #WNGD, when gardeners are encouraged to step outside a little more naturally than they normally would. It is day to remind us to be kinder to the planet and the natural environment and to encourage us to reduce the amount of chemicals we use. It is also a day to remember to be kinder to ourselves (and each other) and accept who we are and what we look like. To stop obsessing about having a perfect body shape and love the skin you are in.

 

Enjoying the May sunshine for World Naked Gardening Day 2021

This year marks my ninth year of celebrating WNGD and I may have more grey hairs, wrinkles and saggy bits than I did back in 2013, but with so many rules, regulations and restrictions on our daily lives at the moment, the rebel in me was overjoyed at the chance to throw off my clothes and step outside to feel the warmth of the sun on my back. Here’s to carefree fun and silliness, that raises our spirits and makes us smile.

 

Deconfinement

As of Monday, our restrictions on movement will begin to ease. There will be no more attestations required for leaving home (outside of the curfew hours) and we will be free to travel where we like in France, for whatever reason we want. 

Deconfinement graphic from BFMTV

From 19^th May, non-essential shops, cinemas, museums and theatres, plus cafés, bars and restaurant terraces will be allowed to reopen and the curfew will be put back to nine o’clock in the evening. A sunny café terrace with a coffee and croissant and a spot of people watching, or a sunset bike ride; the things we’ve been dreaming of for so long, are now so tantalising close I can’t help but smile.

 

Keep smiling, stay safe and have fun.  

Life in lockdown, one week in

Socially distanced shadows queuing at the moules van

Day seven, Thursday 5^th November 2020

Moules frites

It was another cold night and chilly morning, something we certainly felt hanging around outside for almost an hour, watching the clouds scud across the sky from the east and hoping the mobile moules van would turn up as usual. It is getting to the end of the season for mussels, so every week she arrives with them is now a bonus. Aside from the leaves blowing around the car park outside the salle des fêtes, there wasn’t much to look at. The view across the road to the village bar, home to so many cracking nights out in the last four years was a sad and sorry sight. Now empty and abandoned, two lockdowns it seems was too much for a small rural business to cope with.

 

Part of the salle des fêtes is currently being reroofed and I did think it was particularly French to see that when the moules van arrived, the young guy working on the roof came down, found a bucket in his van, gave it a quick rinse out and joined the queue of regular villagers to buy his moules for dinner.

 

Fuchsias in full bloom

Making the most of the dry, sunny weather, this afternoon's task for me was mowing and for Adrian cutting back and shredding. As is so often the way around here, where one job creates another, I almost managed to break the lawnmower. The starter pull cord is now so frayed it doesn’t retract every time, so it looks like Adrian will need to replace that before the next mow. I’ve also moved the pots of fuchsias to a more sheltered spot close to the house, but they will soon need to be cut back and brought in for winter. They are looking stunning at the moment however, so I can’t quite bring myself to hack away at them just yet. 

 

We will have certainly earned our moules frites this evening as once we’d done with the garden chores, we picked up our paintbrushes. Decorating is something we’ve neglected for many years, mainly due to Adrian rarely being home for long periods of time and no one in the family being too keen for me to climb ladders while home alone. There is no excuse now and we are slowly but surely working our way around the upstairs. I can’t admit to becoming addicted to it, like some of our friends, but seeing Adrian without a paintbrush in his hands is getting to be a rare sight. Today was sanding down and giving the loft hatch and three doors their first coat of paint in over twenty years. 

 

I also tried my best to do some more sorting out in the laundry room, a task I started during the first lockdown, but when there is so much stuff stacked against the shelves my short arms couldn’t reach them, it felt rather overwhelming. There are only three of us, or four when Pearl stays, how many towels, duvets and sets of bedding do we really need? If you don’t hear from me for a while, send help, I’ll more than likely have been buried under a ton of bath towels.

Lockdown diaries, day six, into the garden

The last harvest from the summer potager

Day six, Wednesday 4^th November 2020 

Into the garden

It might not have been the first frost this autumn, as we often get light ground frosts in September, but last night was certainly a clear, cold night and the ground was crispy with frost this morning. This prompted me to get out and do the last harvest from the summer potager, filling my basket with the baby squash that won’t now get the chance to grow and ripen, and the last of the chilis that will be just as nice green as the vibrant red I’ve picked all summer. I also picked up about a kilo of small windfall apples, despite believing the apple-picking to have finished. I think these might have been considered too small to bother with when there were still rich pickings, but now the tree is bare, I scavenged in desperation for every last one. We still have the Jerusalem artichokes to dig up over winter, and I’ve stored a crate of butternut squash, but the weeds have taken over and the potager already has that abandoned, scruffy look of winter neglect.

 

It is a sad sight to see, but my freezers, that I cleared out and organised back in March at the beginning of confinement, are still nicely ordered with a place for everything and everything in its place. More importantly, they are full to bursting with this summer’s homegrown fruits and vegetables, as well as homemade pork bone broth stock and packs of leftover meals that will become soup starters for winter lunches. I couldn’t be in a better place to head into winter.

 

Despite the cold this morning, the sun was shining from first thing, so the washing was hanging out not long after breakfast. Sitting in the warmth of the lounge with my morning coffee, watching the steam rising from the clothesline outside the window brought a smug smile to my face and made the cold, tingling of my fingers from hanging it out worth the pain. 

 

Raking the fig leaves

As the sun warmed the garden, I raked the fig leaves, as they are mostly all down, and started on the first of the Gingko leaves, although I am hoping for a bit more colour on the tree from them before they fall. I contemplated mowing the grass, but it was still damp after lunch, so to mark the changing of the seasons I moved the table that sits in the shade all summer, down to a sunny spot close to the house. Even on cold days, over winter it is important for us to sit outside for coffee or lunch, whenever the sun is out.

Lockdown loop within 1 km from home

 

To celebrate the end of the course Adrian was running, we devised a bike ride for this afternoon. Using all the roads in the village and heading out and back along the entry roads, we managed thirteen kilometres, all within an hour and keeping to a one-kilometre radius of home. It was great to be out in the fresh air but cycling into the wind from the east wasn’t much fun.

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day fifty-one

A cartful of courgettes

Day fifty-one, 6^th May 2020

Project potager 

Today was a good day, spent in the garden. The wind that had plagued me yesterday was replaced with a calm, warm day, with clear blue skies and a temperature that reached 24º, perfect weather for planting out my vegetable seedlings.

While Adrian raked over the plot and dug out the holes, I counted up how many plants I had, then worked out who would be planted, and where. The idea had been to pass on any extras we couldn’t fit in to local friends, but sadly (for them), there was space for 62 and I only had 59 (assorted courgette, butternut squash, white patisson, pumpkin and pink grapefruit squash). I think this means I can go shopping for more, yippee. 

We are still a few days away from the feast days of the Ice Saints, St Mamert on 11^th, St Pancrace on 12^th and St Servais on 13^th May, who legend says often bring with them the last nightly frosts of spring. The cautious among our French neighbours will always wait for these dates to pass before planting out anything tender. However, our next door neighbour has already planted out his tomatoes and he’s never got it wrong yet, and I’ve been watching from over the garden wall, for fifteen summers now. Our thirty-one tomato seedlings are still a bit small, so we will wait a week or so before they go out.

My champette of courgettes, squash and pumpkins

I followed behind Adrian and his shovel, and gently nestled each precious plant into its own specially prepared hole, full of our homemade organic compost. Once they had been watered in and had their photos taken for the family album, the only thing left to do was to wish them a happy growing season and hope they bear lots of fruits. They will get another water tonight and lots of love and attention from me over the coming weeks and I’ll be sure to let you know when I pick the first courgette.

Bye bye pool

Project pool

The next big project in the garden is to take down our above ground pool that has been on the terrace since the spring of 2006. The liner perished last year, and we have come to the sad decision that we really don’t use it enough anymore to replace it. With Ed in Poitiers and Adrian working away a lot, I don’t use it when I am home alone, so its only use is as somewhere cool and refreshing to dip into after a spot of gardening or at the end of a bike ride. A hot-tub would work just as well.

Ed in the pool

We had great fun with it when Ed was little but gone are the days spent watching him jump from the steps, splash, shriek, climb out and repeat, until he turned all wrinkly. 

A new home for the pots

Today we moved the pots from around the edge, creating a pretty area by the banana and Adrian set about cleaning the structure before we take it down and advertise it for sale. Everything else is in good working order, with a brand-new summer cover and quality sand filtering pump. All that will be needed is a new liner and someone will have a pool that should last them another fifteen years.

The monster of Niort

May memory

On this day last year, the car had a service in Niort, our closest main town that is also home to our departmental council. With the bikes onboard, we left the car in the safe hands of the garage and set off on a pootle around the town centre, where we stopped to treat ourselves to a coffee and a croissant. Here I am with one of the four bronze snake/dragon monsters that mark the gateway to the town centre.  Local legend describes an enormous amphibious snake-like monster that appeared from the Sèvre Niortais river, killed by a local soldier who stabbed it in the throat. Sadly, by removing his helmet too soon, the beast poisoned and killed him with its last breath. The ones found around town today are thankfully harmless, although if you walked into them or tripped over them, I bet they could still do some damage. 

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day fifty

The potager, rotivated and neatly mowed

Day fifty, 5^th May 2020

The big 50

Today we have arrived at day fifty of life in lockdown, and this feels like a significant enough number for me to mark today as something special. A quick Google search brought up the fact that in numerology, the number fifty expresses its sense of personal freedom and focusses on the positive side of things, not the negative. With France (hopefully) entering its final week of strict confinement, I think we are all focusing on our personal freedom and I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs a reminder every now and then to look to the positives rather than the negatives.

My confinement crops

The storms that rumbled around us overnight gave way to a bright, clear day although it was a little too breezy out there for me. The plan for this afternoon was for Ed to mow the orchard with the tractor, while I did the grass in the potager with the small mower and Adrian rotivated the vegetable plot. We would then be one step closer to getting the courgettes, squash and pumpkins planted out. Ed and I sowed the first seeds on day two of lockdown, so I’m really keen to get them to their final home before next Monday. I have decided that this year’s crops shall be known as the confinement crops. 

 

Neatly mowed orchard with the first blush of colour on the cherries

Things didn’t quite go to plan and after mowing only two lengths of the potager I found myself back indoors, with Mini looking after me as we listened to the gentle hum of the boy’s mowers. I'm feeling pretty pathetic and rather pissed off as although there are many gardening jobs I know I have to be careful doing, mowing is usually ok. Today, the combination of a bright, sunny day, with a breeze making everything move around in front of my eyes, was too much for my photosensitive brain. On a positive note, I was able to recognise the warning signs and avoid succumbing to a full seizure, which I’m sure Adrian was rather glad of. 

The rest of the day has passed in a lazy haze and enjoying listening to Ed playing his guitar. Just so you can have a listen to him too, here is his latest YouTube video, a track that is a real blast from my past, performed in a way that made us smile.

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day forty-seven and World Naked Gardening Day 2020

World Naked Gardening Day 2020 #WNGD

Day forty-seven, 2^nd May 2020

World Naked Gardening day

Welcome to the first Saturday in May, and the 16^th annual World Naked Gardening Day #WNGD, when gardeners are encouraged to step outside a little more naturally than they normally would. There are a number of reasons behind this, that this year seem more important than ever to highlight and share.

World Naked Gardening Day 2020 #WNGD

1 Body Image

We all need to be kinder to ourselves (and each other) and accept who we are and what we look like. Once our clothes are removed, no matter if we are a size 10 or a size 20, we all have scars, saggy bits, lumps, bumps and wrinkles and this is normal. We need to stop obsessing about having a perfect body shape and love the skin we are in.

World Naked Gardening Day 2020 #WNGD

2 Our relationship with the natural environment

As well as being kinder to ourselves, we need to be kinder to our planet and the natural environment. We don’t need weed-free lawns, straight carrots or perfectly round tomatoes and look at how much healthier our air has become with less traffic and aeroplanes in just a few months of lockdown. When the world begins to move once more, it must be at healthier pace than it was before all this began.

World Naked Gardening Day 2020 #WNGD

3 Fun

I hope you can also see the fun to be had in sneaking outside, avoiding the neighbours, throwing off your clothes in wild abandon and hugging a tree or smelling a rain soaked rose? In these difficult times we all need to smile more and do the silly things that keep our spirits high, so if I’ve raised just one smile from one of you today, I will have achieved my goal.

Even if it’s only a barefoot stroll on the grass, or a bare-armed hug of a tree, enjoying a few minutes of quiet time in nature is good for the soul and helps to balance the mind and the body.

Meyrueis, Cevennes 

May holiday memory

We began our morning of 2^nd May 2012 on the circular, scenic drive from Meyrueis towards Mount Aigoul (1567m) home to a weather station, a ski station and not a lot else except a great view, although this early in the season it was a little bleak with nothing but short stocky pine trees growing. The Tarn Gorges were our next destination, and coming in from the high plains of the Causse Mejean meant we had the most spectacular view of the meandering river which we followed until we turned off for the Causse Sauveterre, where we found our own little wildflower meadow, perfect for a picnic lunch.

 

From the Causse Mejean

Onwards towards the Lot Valley where the local stone houses have a pink tinge to them, and the countryside had become lush and green once more.  The roofs here tend to be heavily pitched with dorma windows inset, tiled with rounded slates and the odd turreted tower, that made me think of the village of Hogwarts from the Harry Potter books. The village of Estaing with the chateau towering above it was a good place to stop for the cherry clafoutis that the lady in the boulangerie in Meyrueis had carefully boxed for us that morning. A daily patisserie has always been a must for us on holiday in France.

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day twenty-three

Potted on seedlings

Time in the garden

Today was a garden day, with morning coffee after yoga taken on the bistro table in a sunny spot by the house, followed shortly after by lunch of homemade soup and flat breads out in the sun. It was peaceful, warm and relaxing.

Then there was work to be done as the seedlings had grown too big for the tubs I sowed them in. Forty courgette, pumpkin and butternut squash seedlings now have their own little pot and their next move will be out into the potager in about a month, frost depending. There are about another twenty squash that are still a little too small, but with around sixty plants, I have high hopes for a great harvest this year. We also potted on about thirty tiny tomato seedlings, but I let Adrian handle these as they just seem so delicate in comparison the thick stemmed, large leafed brutes of the courgette family.

New growth on the fig tree

The sunloungers and kindles then required our attention and sitting in the garden reading, and taking time to admire the blossoms and new growth, we could feel the heat of the sun like on a summer day.

Adrian and Ed then mowed in the orchard and potager, again, and I’m sure the grass out there has never looked so well kept so early on in the season.

Dinner this evening will be a pork risotto, using up the last of the supply of fresh vegetables, and if I’m quick, I’m hoping we can eat it in the garden too.

Lockdown library

Today’s reading selection is for Laura Brigg’s latest A Train from Penzance to Paris that released today. You can read my review here.

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day eight

An isolated dog walk

Welcome to the club, UK

I started this daily update as we found ourselves in an unusual situation. China seemed so far away and although Italy and Spain were a few days ahead of us here in France, for most of the English-speaking world it was difficult to comprehend what living in lockdown meant. 

Writing about our daily life here is giving me something to do, as well as a record to look back on in years to come, but also as with any form of journaling, it is a way of focusing my thoughts and helping me come to terms with the changes that have been rapidly imposed on our lives. With the UK being the latest country to impose lockdown, how quickly the unusual has become normality for so many of us. 

 

Official rules regarding going out to exercise in France:
No more than one hour, once a day
No further than 1km from home
Individual activities only
Walking with those you are in confinement with
Walking your pets

I think we were all a little guilty to begin with of creating our own understanding of the rules, especially as things are changing so fast our minds are taking a while to catch up with what is happening. I envisaged using my bike a few times a week to pop into Chef-Boutonne, 7kms from here, to do a bit of essential shopping or pick up a prescription for a neighbour, and at the same time enjoy being out in the fresh air. 

It doesn’t work like that. Staying safe means staying in. 

I have done one essential shop in the last week, but alone and by car, and although we could do with some more fresh fruit and vegetables soon, I am no longer in any rush to leave the safety of home. The sooner everyone stops trying to find a way around the rules and stays in, and away from others, the better, for everyone.

I am once more counting my blessings that we have outdoor space where we can enjoy fresh air and where there is always something that needs doing. I am also thankful that Ed is old enough to understand the situation and can occupy himself without my constant supervision. My day to day life is easy, I am lucky; single parents, at home with little ones and no garden, must be feeling overwhelmed and very isolated. One positive that does seem to have come from this bizarre situation is the online resources that are available. From free exercise sessions to museum tours, choirs, concerts and courses, there is something out there for everyone to try something new. Ed is working on his music theory, Adrian is improving his French, his mum has signed up for a history of royal fashion course and I’m on the verge of diving into an online writing course, when I can find the time.

The first courgette seedling

Light at the end of the tunnel

On day two of our lockdown, Ed and I started seed sowing for this year’s potager crops and this morning, a mere six days later, the first little courgette seedling poked its head above the soil. This is all the proof I needed that life will go on and the fact that I am one step closer to having a courgette harvest this summer, put a huge smile on my face.

I also had a message from a friend who I haven’t seen in person for over fifteen years. She said she used yesterday’s blog as reading practice with her nine-year-old. It is messages like that, that keep me going. 

Thank you to everyone who has commented, liked and shared these posts. 

Stay indoors and stay safe.