A Valentine's Day bike ride for two

A Valentine's Day bike ride for two

Love is…

Today might be a busy day, running a training course for Adrian and census counting for me, but yesterday turned out to be the perfect day to celebrate St Valentine’s Day. As the washing danced around on the airer in the garden, we set off for a special bike ride.

 

Adrian is used to my whacky requests, and I’m used to his eye-rolling response to them, but he still created a 35km Valentine’s Day heart-shaped bicycle route for us. Isn’t he fab!

 

We left home to the sight and sound of migrating cranes serenading us overhead as they circled above the house on the thermals. We stood and watched as they reformed into deep V shapes, constantly calling to each other before continuing their journey north. It is something we look forward to seeing every February and it never loses its magic. Just outside the village we startled two deer in a field by the road, slowing our speed in case they bolted across our path. Thankfully they just disappeared into a thicket of woods, safely away from the road and hunters. 

Lavoir in Hanc

 

We passed by chateau towers and church spires, delighted to see the first hellebores in the woods and winter aconites in the roadside ditches, their flowers encouraging a pair of cavorting butterflies. The iris stems are also appearing in the streams that fill the local lavoirs (wash houses), although it will be a while before their flowers arrive. 

The view from our picnic bench, Couture d'Argenson

 

At the halfway point to our heart, we paused at a picnic bench to enjoy a homemade flapjack. Out of the wind, we could feel the warmth in the sun, thankfully the feast of springtime promises we saw made battling the headwind worth it.

 

Adrian wasn’t impressed that the route looked like a flabby, messy heart, but I loved that it was our heart route, centred around our village. It is true we had to compromise using the roads available to us, but what is love if it’s not about compromise? What is important is to accept that reality isn’t always neat and perfect, and that what really counts is to have fun and make memories together. 

 

Happy Valentine’s Day 

Lazy Sunday in France shaking off the winter blues

Migrating cranes flying over the house on their way north

Lazy Sunday in France

It has been a while since I posted a Lazy Sunday in France post, so that was my plan for today. A relaxed breakfast of coffee and croissants with homemade jam, and then maybe a book, a chair and a bit of me time.

 

I peered out of the window to see if sitting in the garden would be a possibility, the weather having thrown all sorts at us this week, although there is certainly a noticeable rise in the temperatures. I didn’t have to look far to see that nature has been anything but lazy.

 

The daisies, speedwell and violets are flowering in the grass (which will need its first cut soon) and one of the plum trees is about to burst into blossom. The migrating cranes have filled the sky above the house most days this week, circling high, flying in formation and calling between themselves as they make their way north. 

Wild daffodils

 

Yesterday’s twenty-two kilometre bike ride was a battle with the wind, but worth the effort to see the first cowslip flowers in ditches that only a few weeks ago were full and flooded, plus banks of purple periwinkle, tall, delicate hellebores in the woods and the tiny, pale daffodils that grow semi-wild just outside the village.

 

I know Covid-19 can make life feel like it’s on hold, but time certainly isn’t standing still. Four months have now passed since we enjoyed a sneaky autumn break in the Cahors vineyards, which was when lockdown two was announced in France. In the run up to Christmas we kept ourselves busy decorating upstairs, but dates on photos show that we put down the paintbrushes three months ago, even though it seems only a few weeks have passed. I am pleased to report the clutter hasn’t made it back to the newly decorated spaces. 

 

It will be interesting to see if France avoids a third lockdown situation, especially as it’s currently school holiday time and anyone who can, seems to have hit the motorways and headed off on holiday. We are yearning to hit the roads on our bikes, even if it is just for a few days, but we’re happy to wait for the school holiday madness to subside. Now it’s still light at almost seven o’clock in the evening, the six o’clock curfew is certainly starting to feel a lot more restrictive.

 

With the spring equinox now only one month away, two-thirds of winter are officially done and dusted. Which probably explains that feeling in my fingers, an itching to declutter. It doesn’t happen often, so I really must channel it, but at the moment I just seem to find myself wandering from room to room, horrified at the amount of stuff, and not sure where to start the sorting. I shall spend the rest of my lazy Sunday planning where to begin. This week it would be nice if we can continue to enjoy morning coffee and lunch in the garden, a motivating treat as I attempt to tackle a cupboard, drawer or shelf each day.

 

What signs of spring to you look forward to seeing to give you the motivation to shake off the winter blues?

  

Spring once again

Golden hazel catkins in the orchard

The change in the weather from winter to spring makes me very happy, so imagine my delight when this week all the signs of spring I eagerly look out for seem to have come at once. 

The wind and rain of last week have become frosty mornings that have given way to blue sky and warm sunshine, meaning wash load after wash load, day after day, have dried outside. This along with my super new washing machine, (who knew they had become so big, so fast and so quiet in the last 14 years) means I finally cleared the heap of non-essentials that have been festering in the laundry room since autumn. 

This week the goose, the ducks and the chickens have all started laying again, which for birds who are past their prime, (Brucie the goose will be ten this spring), is more than I could have expected at the first sign of warmer weather. Now I am flush with eggs once more, I’ve made my first quiche that I enjoyed with salad, on a little bistro table that I dusted off and set up outside the kitchen door.

The orchard is also coming to life; the hazel catkins are dangling like gold in the sun and the wild orchids are pushing through the grass. The first daffodils have ripe buds that will be in flower very soon and our resident Little Owls are busy (and noisy) day and night, preparing for the breeding season, I assume. Every trip out there reminds me of the work that needs tackling now the earth is warming up.

From a dog walk

Whenever I am outside, in the garden, walking the dog or out on my bike, my eyes are drawn up to the sky and my ears are listening for unmistakable sound of the migrating cranes. Yesterday, although not close enough to photograph, I heard and then spotted my first V of birds heading north, a sure sign spring really will be here soon.

Open skies on a bike ride

There is energy and new life to be felt everywhere making me feel more alive and that I must get out and enjoy it. I have now completed 300kms of my 2019kms cycling challenge, including 50kms this week out by myself. This might not seem like much, but to me it is a huge achievement. Not since 2014, when my epilepsy came back to kick me in the teeth, have I got on my bike without Adrian by my side (or rather somewhere out in front, but with me none the less). I’m not taking unnecessary risks, but I'm becoming bolder and refuse to let it beat me. 

Planning - cycling the canal de la Garonne

We are also busy planning (and training for) the first of our 2019 adventures that will not only give me an overnight stop in Bordeaux, something I have wanted for a long time, but also another cycling touring holiday and at last, my first visit to the city of Toulouse. I can’t wait, but I do hope the weather will be kind to us as everything seems so much easier to cope with if served with a generous helping of sunshine.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

The first daffodils 

This week has been a busy one, but thanks to the blue skies and sunshine, some of my busyness has been outside in the garden, at last. I will admit to being a bit of a fair-weather gardener, but with the rising temperatures, birdsong and sunshine I have been encouraged to get outside, tackle some weeding in the potager, breathe the fresh spring air and take a few photos to share with you.

The first crocus

Rhubarb shoots

I love to see the first flowers of the year, although I can’t help but bring in the daffodils to enjoy indoors and am looking forward to picking the first of the rhubarb that is already pushing through the ground. I’ve started sowing the seeds for the potager, always a favourite time of year for me and although they are still tiny and kept safe and warm indoors, at least I am one step closer to having a full and productive vegetable garden this summer.

Chilli seedlings

Hazel catkins

A lot of my time outdoors at this time of year is spent straining my neck, checking skywards for the first sign of blossom, the first swoop of a swallow or another chance to watch the cranes as they head north in their distinctive and noisy way. These sights never fail to make me smile and make me thankful to be living in a beautiful rural area where the changing of the seasons is easy to witness.

The potager in early spring

I might not be harvesting much at the moment, but my garden has certainly started growing. Other news from the garden this week is that Brucie the goose has started laying and the ducks are acting mysteriously, which experience tells me means they are trying to find hidden corners to lay in, places where they hope I won’t discover them. However, I like to think I’m brainier than they are and can’t wait for the first duck egg omelette of 2015.

This post is linked to How Does Your Garden Grow? a blog link run by Mammasaurus  Do pop over and read more inspiring gardening posts, it's as easy as clicking on the link.

One of those moments

This week I had one of those busy days that got off to a bad start when I woke up with a headache. A day that starts with a headache is a bad way to start the day as they usually fell me and I have no option but to crash. However, it seems a combination of ibuprofen with effervescent vitamin C and lots of camomile tea is worth remembering as this time I conquered it! My morning was then filled with chores, including a trip to the bank and bottle bank, before collecting Ed from school at 10.30 (I know, hardly worth going in for two hours of ping-pong is it).

I was feeling confident, despite the prospect of an afternoon in big town for Ed's appointment at the orthodontist, where there are only two tight parking spaces that may or may not be free. However I was soon stressed as Ed decided to go for a lunchtime bike ride and with ten minutes to go before we had to hit the road, he was nowhere to be seen. I was beginning to worry. Where was he? Was he OK? Where do I search first? When he appeared without a care in the world he found a rather frazzled mother who threw him, his lunch, his toothbrush and his guitar into the car all the while muttering as only a mother can.

Migrating cranes (pic from last year)

It was then that I experienced one of those ‘moments’. Something that just made me stop, look, smile and instantly calm down. A noise overhead made me glance up in time to see a perfect V of migrating cranes flying over our house. It no longer mattered that we were a little behind my schedule; I stopped worrying about being late for the appointment or finding a parking space, I just knew it would all be fine. And it was; we arrived about a minute before two others, giving me the pick of the spaces and the orthodontist was pleased with Ed. He did request an x-ray, so after doing the shopping, we made our way to the x-ray clinic to book an appointment. The cranes weren’t finished with their good luck, as amazingly, ten minutes later we walked out of the x-ray clinic with his x-rays in an envelope and still had time for a pre guitar lesson hot chocolate in our favourite café. What started as a bad day, didn’t turn out too bad, thanks to the cranes.

On the Migratory Route

Spring is my favourtie time of year (often making me feel bubbly and silly inside) and although I can’t decide what my favourite spring thing is, one of them has to be the moving and arrival of the migrating birds.

Migrating birds at sunset

One of the most spectacular sights to see as they often move in great numbers is the migration of Storks, Cranes and Geese that fly overhead in early spring. Having spent their winter in Spain they are making their way back to Scandinavia and the Baltic for the summer. As they are calling/'clapping' to each other all the way I often hear them before seeing them. I have also been known to dart off the main road and head down a track to get a better glimpse, such is my excitement at witnessing this spectacle. I will admit I am not an expert on their habits, so not sure why, but some seem to enjoy the Charente-Maritime summer so much they nest in the marshland around Brouage. Whatever the reason, I certainly enjoyed watching them when I cycled around the marshes last year.

Summer residents, Brouage marshes

As winter is beginning to turn I often see the Northern Lapwings, part of the plover family, while out walking the dog. They enjoy moist habitats, so the open fields surrounding the village that are prone to flooding provide a perfect winter location. Prior to heading back to Scandinavia and Russia they congregate in large groups and can be very noisy, but are quite a sight en masse.

Lapwings

Possibly the most exotic looking visitor is the Hoopoe who is found year round in Africa but some migrate north to breed in the summer. They like dry habitats especially orchards, vineyards and olive groves and are also quite happy in gardens. Feasting on insects, but also small mammals and reptiles, their long probing beaks are ideal for ground foraging. Nesting is often low to the ground and in holes in walls, so the old stone walls of the barns around here, combined with the orchards and vineyards make it a popular breeding area for them. I will admit they are a beautiful sight to see, but as they are very shy it is more common to hear them rather than see them and I’m quite happy with that. To sit in a quiet spot in the garden and listen to the rhythmic call of the hoopoe is almost hypnotic.

Hoopoe in the garden

Feeding time

My favourite summer visitors are the Swallows, with the first one usually arriving from Africa in mid March. Their arrival is so important I note the first sighting in the calendar every year. They spend their summers here, nest building in the barn, breeding and teaching the youngsters to swoop and fly – often dive bombing the cat and dog as they walk across the courtyard. Feasting on the flies they are perfect for keeping the fly population down, another reason I am glad to have them. Their happy chattering sound is lovely to hear so it is sad when they all congregate on the telephone and power lines in September getting ready to depart for a warmer winter (not that I can blame them). However, I am pleased to announce that I have seen and heard all of these visitors this spring, so all is well with my world. Living in the middle of nowhere may not be for everyone, but when I get to see and hear sights like these I am very happy.

Swallows preparing to head south in September