The greenest greens

May at Grillou is always a special time, when the greens are at their very greenest ... at the end of last week the light was so perfect that I couldn't resist spending the afternoon outside with the camera ....

Ponting

It's best, I've learned in the five years we've been here, not to bank on getting too much done in May. And I'm not talking about the weather this time.



Actually, I'm not talking about yoga either ... :-)

May is the month of the ponts. Well, no, let's take a step back first: May is the month of the public holiday. Four of them, to be precise: the Fête du Travail (Labour Day), Victoire 1945 (Victory in Europe Day), Ascension and Lundi de Lundi de Pentecôte. Depending on the date of Easter it usually works out at about one a week. That's not half bad in itself.

But when a public holiday happens to fall on a Thursday or a Tuesday, the French like to faire le pont, or bridge the gap, by taking off Friday or Monday as well. In fact it's become so common to faire le pont that even if the holiday falls on a Wednesday people will be still ponting all over the place. Many small enterprises and commerces - and even schools and public services - shut down altogether on pont days so that you have to keep a weather (oops - sorry. I'm not really obsessed with the weather, honest) eye on the calendar if you've got Things To Do. I made the mistake of not doing that last Monday and found half the places I needed to go closed, and the other half teeming with ponting families determined to spend their buckshee day off in a queue ....

There is a kind of trade off though. When a public holiday falls on a Saturday or Sunday, so be it. There's no compensatory day as there is, for example, in the UK - so when last Christmas and New Year's Day both fell on Sunday, workers here got no time off at all. And let's face it, who wouldn't prefer time off in May to mid-winter?

Next Monday will be another pont, as will Friday of the following week. So that's three four day weekends, followed by the three day Pentecôte (Ascension) weekend at the end of the month. Now if we could only have some half decent weather ...........

Getting artistic

While the wind howls away outside (yes, still) and with most of the big inside jobs now done and dusted, I've been getting artistic.

Yesterday I made a picture screen for L'Atelier's bathroom, into which I've put some of my favourite whirling dervish pictures. I love the Mevlevi dervishes. They're a Sufi order founded by Rumi who use the practice of whirling as their zikr. Zikr literally means remembrance: it's a meditation practice to remember God / the One. Having been very involved with a western Sufi order in the UK I've taken part in many a whirling session and it's an amazing experience, of finding the still point in the midst of movement - a big inspiration for me of being Slow before I'd even heard of it. And so it seemed like a Good Thing to have my dervishes here as a reminder of the Slow life .....

And today I've been in signwriting mode. I've been making various wooden signs out of some ancient oak floorboards that we found in one of the outbuildings when we arrived here; I really like the idea of Grillou's original floorboards taking on a new life to welcome people here. Here are two of today's creations, with their 'captions' painted, and just now waiting for their protective coating before they take their place outside at the end of the drive:

Dear Evelyne Dhéliat ...

Have you no shame? Look, if I'd wanted wind, I'd have lived in the Aude. And to be honest I don't really care if we've only had 50% of of normal rainfall over the last 12 months - I just can't be doing with these sudden onset squally showers that you keep sending my way, every day at random intervals, usually when I'm in the middle of something outside.

Maybe you haven't realised what the stakes are here, so let me be upfront with you: I've got a seriously big job on outside, preparing the garden for us and our guests to hang out in this summer. I've got chairs and sunbeds and tables to get out, clean, oil and generally get looking good again. I've got hammocks and parasols to set up. I'm trying my damnedest to paint the floor of the covered eating area, but you keep sending me winds that blow trillions of blossom petals right onto my wet paint. (Um - this is Ariège. We live in the Couserans. We don't get wind).

I've got a potager to finish digging over and plant up so that we don't all starve this summer but your rain is keeping my soil too wet. I've got seedlings to tend, but your winds keep blowing my mini greenhouse over. I've got hundreds of flower plants ready to fill all the pots that line the front of the house but your low temperatures are keeping the soil too cold. And we've got nightingales singing, but it's just too bloody cold to sit outside and listen to them.

And look, even as I'm writing this, there's Big Rain - or is it hail? - blowing horizontally outside my window. And I have a thermal vest on.

All right, I accept that you've probably been put under some pressure to keep the weather miserable this month because of the presidential election. And yes, I realise it would be improper if everybody went off on holiday instead of staying at home and voting. But I'm sorry, I've really had it with April now. And if I have to wait another 2 weeks before it gets better, I'm afraid I shall have no alternative but to worship a different weather god in future.

PS Just wondering, given your current track record .... have you by any chance got anything to do with the three major things that have gone wrong with my car this week? Because not only is the weather crap, but I'm confined to barracks and when the work's done next week will be several hundred euros poorer to boot .....


Evelyne Dhéliat is the weather god(dess) from TF1, the French TV channel. She is France's favourite weather person, much loved by all (but especially by men. She's 63, intelligent, blonde and looks 43).

One cuckoo doesn't make a - erm - spring (but then again it just might)

Last weekend, at St Girons market, we bought some of these:

and a great big bunch of this:

Then we made the first batch of this for your breakfasts this year:

and heard the first one of these:

and admired the new carpet in the garden:

and got up early to hear the dawn chorus

and had our first apéro outside

and got sunburned digging the potager (the thermometer was reading 39 degrees in the sun :-D).

Spring comes early here in the lush green foothills of our part of the Ariège. Wish you were here? Well, you could be, in 6 days, 5 hours and 13 minutes. (Actually you couldn't because we're reserved until the beginning of May. But May is wonderful too!).

Escape the Olympics in the French Pyrenees

This is one of those years when I'm very glad I don't live in the UK. First of all I'd have to put up with days of Jubilee hype and simpering sycophantic grovelling by the BBC's latest 'Royal correspondent' (shudder). And if as all that weren't enough, just a few weeks later there are the much-touted Olympics: more flag waving patriotic stuff .... and sport. Double shudder.

I know I'm being subtle here :-) but you may be picking up that I really can't be doing with all this nationalistic fervour. Maybe I have a gene missing but I just don't have any sort of patriotic sense of 'my country' or any of that stuff. It's bad enough having to carry a passport that makes me into a 'citizen of the United Kingdom' - why on earth (sic) can't I just be a citizen of the planet, full stop?

If you're as turned off by all this as I am, you might want to think about escaping for a few days. I can't do much about the Jubilee, I'm afraid - we've been full for that week within days of opening bookings and have been regularly turning people down since - but if you fancy escaping the Olympics in the French Pyrenees, we still have some space!

Here are just a few of the things you could be enjoying instead:

Poddling around on quiet roads.
Long peaceful walks in the mountains or foothills or valleys.
Picnics by cool streams up in the high summer pastures.
Some seriously good chamber music in a Romanesque cathedral at the St Lizier festival.
Swimming in the 28 degree water of the Lac de Mondély, then sipping a cold beer.
Watching marmots and chamois at Orlu.
Dancing with a partner who's wearing traditional costume and clogs at St Girons' huge folklore festival.
Eating a 'kebcam' under the stars, with jazz playing gently in the background, at Jean-Luc and José's duck buvette.
Dancing till the early hours to live African bands at Foix's 3 day African festival.
Watching vultures swoop over the crags while you eat lunch in the auberge overlooking the Etang d'Ayes.
Cooling off in some of the biggest prehistoric caves in Europe.
Spending a lazy afternoon in our garden listening to perfect, unbroken silence (home made cake or ice cream at tea time too!).
Chilling in the new spa at Ax les Thermes.
Enjoying a holistic massage or pulsing session in the garden at Maison Grillou, under the shade of one of our big trees.

Lying on a sun lounger at midnight with a glass of rosé, watching the Perseids meteor showers in Ariège's perfectly clear, dark, unpolluted skies.

We'd love to welcome others of like mind during the Olympic fortnight, so if you're tempted, go to Maison Grillou's Facebook page, 'like' it, book with us using the code you'll find there and we'll throw in a few extra treats for you when you arrive!