We've succeeded in moving a couple more of the huge rocks in the courtyard - only two more to go!
The hammock slung under the bay-tree hedge and a lovely sunny spot to sit against the wall
Despite the concrete, the front garden is filling up with daffodils and hyacinths
The wild bank along the back garden newly planted with bulbs
As I walked through the garden centre yesterday, it occurred to me that I get far more pleasure roaming about among the bags of potting mixture, the trays of plants and the racks of seed packets and tools than I ever get looking through rails of clothes or shelves of face creams and perfumes.
While still living in America, someone accused me of having had my "shopping gene" surgically removed, and I think they might be right. However, something that I do sorely miss here in France are the wonderful charity shops of dear old England. For three years, we lived in a rather upmarket region of West Sussex, and I found it huge fun to clothe myself in the cast-offs of the rich and famous who appeared in an outfit for polo, and then couldn't possibly be seen in it again.
When I was invited to lecture aboard the QE2, I realised that I would have to come up with a highly presentable wardrobe that would allow me to stand on the stage in front of an audience, and whirl around the dance floor with the Captain. Thanks to Macmillan Cancer Research, I achieved both with an outlay of less than a hundred pounds, and was constantly being complimented for my varied smart outfits. It is completely beyond me why anyone would part with two hundred and fifty quid for jacket that they could buy for twenty at a really good charity shop. I just wish that France had something along the same lines, but maybe the French pay so much for their fabulous clothes that they hang on to them like grim death.
So back to the garden centre. It is now time to turn serious attention to the garden, but having undergone not one but three spinal operations, I do have to treat my back with a fair amount of respect or else it punishes me brutally. Gardening at waist height is my ideal way of creating a beautiful living space outside, but unfortunately there is only so much of the garden which can be raised to accomplish this.
My one achievement however, is to have come up with a number of large homemade grow bags into which have gone a layer of stones and gravel, and then a layer of thick well rotted compost, topped off with some fine seived soil. I have planted them up with quite a variety of things, and by the time summer comes, I hope we will be enjoying the fruits of my labours and eating aubergines, courgettes, lettuce, red peppers, green beans, peas, spinach and tomatoes. I am all for supporting the local vegetable markets, but if I can grow it myself, those funds can be used to purchase the next lot of seed.
Tomorrow I am off to a nursery that specialises in dry hot gardens. After some nice rain, ours looks anything but dry and hot, but I must try and recall what last August was like, and make every attempt to march in step with Mother Nature.
