But - oh joy - the clocks have changed, it was light until nearly nine o'clock tonight, it's the end of closing the curtains for another eight months or so, and the clock in the car is right again (neither of us can remember how to alter it so it stays on permanent summer time ...).
And the first cuckoo's back and - er - cuckooing.
And the potager is (almost) dug, the moon planting calendar has come off the bookshelf, the purple sprouting broccoli is finally sprouting, and the broad beans are growing.
And the grass is purple and pink and white with sweet violets, the crocuses and the grape hyacinths and the daffodils and the tulips are all out together, and the track is lined with celandine and cowslips.
And today was a shorts day - the first of the year. And having driven 50 kilometres and back to collect a sofa, cut and fixed a decoupling membrane for the floor of La P'tite Maison's shower room and shifted nearly a tonne of stone several hundred metres into place ready to start paving the next terrace, I was still flopped on my sun bed, in the sun, at seven o'clock this evening.
2 comments:
just stumbled across your blog. living like minded-ly at present in the alps but wanting longer growing seasons, a market town that makes us whistle on our bikes there and back, and children that help our children be better children just by playing with them. was in the ariege last summer. if you come across another small farm like yours, would love to some day make your acquaintance. our virtual full support for your efforts and decisions...
Hi Bigamama
Glad to have had you stumble across us! Sounds as though Ariege is made for you - I love the Alps, but there's just a completely different feel and ethos here.
Thanks for your support. It really helps, even though we've not met. Yet?
Post a Comment