Conservation: Restauration

Another day, another renovation project. 
Sadly the gorgeous tiled patio of our conservatory is no more :-(    A decade of watering the sumptuous tropical planting has left the underfloor ply in a sorry state, and the tiles lifted or sank... we made
archeological digs into the floor/ceiling junction and the redesign of the surface will make the room a very different place.
And at Orsan, the restauration of the garden sculptures is in train

That's the way to do it

Love Will Tear Us Apart Again

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Holy Moshpits!

October and November - why do all the folk acts come to Brighton in a row? Fantastic but pricy! 

June Tabor and the Oyster Band played at St George's, Kemptown. Lovely band. Lovely venue. Together they do not work. 
We've seen June with Imagined Village, and always seen OB at jump-up-and-move places before, and this, their Reunion Tour, was a really dancey set... but no where to jig, let alone make big swings. Almost as though, if the audience came to their first tour 21 years ago, by now they would be in their dotage. Well maybe we are but we can still bop to the stunning crash-bang-wallop that is Freedom & Rain Revisited Ragged Kingdom


Bellowhead at the Corn Exchange - even stunning-ier! That's the way to do it... dance, dance, dance.
Two hours after the doors opened, the mighty 11 piece we'd all come to see hit the stage and all was well... the opening bars of Jordan, invitations to join in choruses, jumping in unison, wow...
So how come the JT&OB management got it sooo wrong? Same audience, judging by the  number of grey heads, Towersey Tshirts and ability to pay-a-lot-of-money. Average age was 45+, a lot of free bus passes.

...six fiddlers jumping...

Jon Boden imploring...

I love the way the sons of famous folk(wo)men get to carry on playing the chord structures that made their school fees possible.

Sunshine came softly...

November Sun at 9am, still coming into our east-facing conservatory, and with a gentler quality to it, raising the temperature gradually to a comfortable-enough-to-drink-tea-in 18 degrees (C).
At night it's about 10 degs, and the plants seem OK about it. The Lemon Tree (Eureka!) and the little stripey Orange are hardy to -10, so we're hoping it won't get down to that.
As a buffer zone this little suntrap is maintaining the inside of the house at a relatively stable 16 or 17, especially if we remember to close the door at night. It's quite nice, though, to walk on it barefoot, like when a quick trip to the bathroom is needed at 4am!

Beast, Beauty,

The train journey out of Paris takes about 5 hours to Perpignan, and it sweeps down through the whole of the length of France... over the grey Seine, alongside the sandy Loire, picking up the wide Rhone somewhere, eventually crossing its outlet near Nîmes and then the Aude somewhere south of Narbonne. Lots of tagging in the suburbs, the same names go out quite far - TPA, Sonic - some in beautiful swirly text, other marks like some seventies' album cover.  The eyes on the tanks of this sewage plant was just south of Paris - when we came back it was too dark to see where it was - haunting, nevertheless!

distractions at the sewage farm!

When you reach the Centre, the volcanos are luscious pointy hills with streaming clouds above them... soon after the roof tiles take on a pink hue, a half-tube shape, you know you are in the South. Baroque houses face the station in Nîmes and Beziers, palm trees in fruit, and the huge cathedral at Narbonne rises on the horizon. On the way back the lakes reflect their southern colours, flamingos stand on their one-legs and the sky turns a somersault. The tags from Perpignan all the way to here say "Krevet"... s/he gets about a bit!

Autumn in the Conflent

 Lots of fêtes - chestnuts, ewes and goats, new wine - any excuse really! Lovely community spirit where the "fêtes committee" and the mairie lay on roasted chestnuts and wine to celebrate the autumn, the halfterm holiday is a break for more people than just teachers.

Shops close for a week, parents take their kids out during the day, kicking leaves, walking the transhumance paths up to waterfalls...






The Olette Foire de l'Automne had guess-the-weight of the lovely pink-skinned Rouge de Roussillon sheep, "the one with the blue collar and the bell". Presumably the shepherd will prepare it for the pot and the freezer!
The shepherd turned out to be the young man we had walked the transhumance path with in June; his sheep had come home fatter, more delicious from the mountain grass and herbs.

A little trek up the Cami de Ramader, a slated path with a rise of 200 metres into the lime green, lemon and pink of the turning leaves. A stop at the bridge (de Llosa), a bit of cake and a sip of water, and the realisation that the sky was a bit darker grey than before, so we made a judicious exit from the valley. And then it didn't rain! And today it's been up to 20 deg C.

A last night's meal at the much-loved Le Café de la Paix... seiche à la planxa, beautifully garlicky.
Tomorrow - Paris...

Passionfruits on the Pergola

Chez nous in France, the tentative climbing of the passionflower from the garden next door that we welcomed has borne fruit! 

Having attached some of it to the canisse (a thin split bamboo screen) it was encouraged to spread across the roof of the terrasse, which it did with amazing speed in the summer. This week we took the canisse down, to prepare for the winter, and the network of trailing shoots are clearly established now. Maybe the vine will grow up and meet it next year! There are two - a white, and a black muscat.

We are hoping that there won't be any snow this winter, as it bent the pergola support last time, and killed the bougainvillea. We are trying with another one, placed in the sunniest spot on the terrasse. It had flowers earlier, but the very dry season since the summer has shrivelled many leaves in the garden including the honeysuckle. But a few days' worth of watering and this is looking better, the jasmine has perked up again, and the mint is a bit mintier. The pelargoniums from June are also still OK, hanging on the screen, protected a bit by the cooler air below.

Tiny mulberry seedlings have sprouted too, in with the mint. I add a new small tree in a pot - acacia pravissima, "Ovens Wattle"- indestructible!


A quick trip to Collioure yesterday... always lovely in the autumn & winter... very blowy indeed. 
This is one of my favourite views...

"When visiting the church you are asked to wear suitable clothing, do not smoke, leave outside dogs, cats and other animals - thank you"

In the meantime, the garden flourishes

Banana

Potiron Vif d'Etampes

The green bananas wait til next spring to be planted next to the yellow-leaved one, assuming it survives the winter again. Leeks from Poix's Sunday market are now 2cms across and thickening, tasty! Grey- green spears contrast with the fiery nasturtium Tom Thumb. Hidden in there too, burgundy beetroot amid purple cornflowers (Black Ball). The pumpkin peeks out from the top tier, its shoots tumbling over the edge of the wall, while the fruit itself sits, soaking up the late sun, glowing... Beans, what beans! Canadian Wonder, Hutterite Soup Bean, Selma Zebra, a lovely buttery Beurre de something, the climber Limka has done so much better than ever before.

leeks & cosmos

cordyline tops

The Cordyline sits in the centre of the sweep of ground between two pathways, its spiky tops creating a tropical fee to accompany the bananas, its old flower head drooping like little dates... at the second-to-top tier the Mediterranean garden nestles beneath the hedge: there's agave, yucca, quince, fig, lavender, marjoram, thyme, with the golden hop, the mountain ash and the yew flavouring it temperately. And the ivy - mounds of it, trees if it, long creeping strands of it, greeny globe flowers open now and buzzing with insects. It'll be cut once the buzz has gone... and that Sycamore - its days are numbered!

Tales from the Living Roof

Two weeks ago we had a leaky garage roof, soggy boxes, two big pots of rainwater in the middle of the floor and mushroom growths on the newspaper put out to catch the drips. Then the Miracle happened!

Hmmm, where's the edge?

Oh, look!

We cleared the surface of buddleia, clematis, and the debris of many years (it had turned into a good bit of soil though).

I tested the rotten plank and my leg fell through a hole ... ow!

The hole

Framework

Lee turned up and suddenly the roof was open, gone, a clean space shone pink in the sun!

Gradually the new roof beams, beautiful blond wood, criss-crossed each other, and the space took on a different shape.

Topping out

The kids next door were fascinated with it! So was I...

Waterproofed

now the shingle is on it, and the sedum is on its way... http://www.organicroofs.co.uk/

waiting for the sedum...

The Railway Line

In the garden a few days ago and I realise that the sound I hear every now and again is the train in the near distance, on the Brighton to London line. Instantly it awakens memories of childhood, and I wonder if this is another reason why this home feels so very much like Home! Calculating the distance and yes, it's about the same as the railway line (Cardiff to London) from the home that I was brought up in, Wilson Street, Splott. Regular tum-te-tums... was it a steam line then? Another edge to the home experience, another boundary defining my bioregion. Wow...

Mobile homes

I began this Boundaries of Home blog to chart something of the way in which my home is a supportive structure for my identity and health. As well as continuing Jubilacíon, (the annals of The First Year of Retirement) it arises directly out of it. One of my last entries was the recognition that instead of trying to squeeze everything I did into a tiny garden, I could look more widely for a garden to expand my horizons: "Think systematically about the garden, and to consider the greenhouse idea... it might be easier to move and get a bigger garden with an existing greenhouse!"

And so it happened. No looking, no seeking, just observing, and noticing at the right moment, that a quirky little house was for sale, which happened to have an amazingly-huge garden space (for Brighton). Towards the end of five months later, we moved au fond de la vallée. Now we have come to our little maison des vacances for a break!

One of the things I’ve wanted to do for some time since knowing France, was to see a Transhumance of farm animals going to their summer pastures, or coming back. Here, having missed the Estive, the moving of the cows in Eyne last weekend, today we have accompanied la transhumance des ovins, from their homes in Sahorre and Casteil to the slopes of the Llipodère valley, in the Conflent. Two flocks of sheep, three different types: the locally-bred brebis Rouge de Roussillon (the browny skinned ones) and the Blanche de Massif Central, with a few Bizet. The three bergers, young men who take it in turns to live up in the pasture with the sheep, brought their wives, children, even babies, and their dogs to help, and as a first time for them they made it a public event, mentioned in the local paper. At 06.15 we arrived with others at the Col de Jou above Vernet les Bains, to meet the troupes on their way from their home villages. The dawn was just coming through the trees as the sun rose above the peaks of the Pyrenees, and then a carillon of tinkling bells swept into the Col, around scrawny sheeps’ necks. The Refuge at Marialles was their first target, the creamy swarm flowing up the narrow sentier or footpath, and about 20 of us following on.

Three hours later (courtesy of a 4x4 pickup for les vieux about ¾ way up la piste, where the sentier had opened onto a dirt road) we arrived at Marialles, where the sheep were already making themselves at home on the grassland. The men who run the refuge had provided breakfast for everybody – not just coffee and croissants, but saucisson, rillettes de canard, mountain cheese, red wine…

10am saw the troupeaux leave for the trek to their summer home. Many of the walkers went on too, buoyed by a beautiful sunny day and the prospect of a grillade (no doubt of lamb) at the destination. We did not faire la continuation, my feet and a sleepless night (waiting for the alarm!) having done for us as much as the very steep slope and uncertain footpath, tumbling stones, scree and shifting sand of the sentier, which was also a bit of the GR10, the national footpath network for walkers.

I asked the shepherd how well the sheep knew their second home, and where their boundaries were up on that velvety slope. Yes, they knew where to stop, where to go, some had been up there for many years, and their lambs would come to know it too. Hefting, it’s called in the north of England, the fell sheep knowing exactly what the boundary is, passing it to lambs almost genetically, so much so that when the Foot and Mouth epidemic of 2003 (?) culled them, there was a fear that it would take many generations for the knowledge to be passed down again. He knew what I meant, but couldn’t think of the word in French. Maybe it’s just so much more a part of French culture that the homing instinct is seen as natural and not to be remarked upon.  After all, the French themselves are just about to do the same thing – le chassé-croissé – the movement of juillistes et aoutiens, holidaymakers travelling from north to south, and then home again, crossing on the weekend in the middle!

Pyrenean Wild Flowers

or are they? 
Fours hours' walk in the Eyne national park, and a lovely mountain meadow landscape spread itself out before us. It would have been even more colourful a month ago, but still there were blues, purples, pinks, yellow, and loads of waving and foaming white French Cow Parsley... or Ammi as it has become fashionably known in the garden world. The blues and mauves were from Geranium Pratense, the hardy geranium that is the basis of so many perennial garden plans for dry and shady areas. To see it reveling in the sunshine (though at a rarified 1600m) was a delight. The best sight was these two waving together in the wind - how could it be photographed? It was such a moving sight I had to video it to get the best record of the combination. 
Also a pale pink Ammi, though that was further down the mountain, so possibly a sport. Sitting together were Scabious and Thrift, both a gorgeous fuschia/Sciaparelli pink. Little bright pink Dianthus too, and a small paler pink one with a deep perfume. And Spotted Orchids, just like you get on the Lewes bypass! Pyrenean Valerian, pale pink and a beautiful scented flower like Valerian Officialis at home. A tiny white and yellow pansy or viola, occasionally tinged with lilac.
The yellows included a plant I had not seen before, a tall and stately single stalk, a rosette of four fleshy leaves at its base, and a series of yellow upturned points, arranged around in a circle on the stem, with a little frill of green under each, like a chandelier. It reminded me of the fritillary lily, but it wasn't until we had a look in the Maison de la Vallée (visitor centre) that we found it is a Gentiane Géant, a Yellow Gentian. 
Now, none of these flowers were in the Pyrenees mountain flower book. Are they garden escapees? Certainly the gardens about the village abounded in them as well, with lupins and other cottage garden plants. Hmmm, needs a bit more research. In the meantime I have saved a few sprigs of the seed of each, and will plant it fresh, and see what happens.

olive trees

Byrrh ghost advert

Pattern for a wrought iron fence – the passion flower

With the blue sky above, the silhouette of the passion flower on the arches over the terrace looks hand-made. The tendrils move, without being seen, into different curlicues every day. The stem is brought closer to the wire, gradually. The green fruits hang down, with the little three-pointed stamen of the flower at the apex… lots of them this year! It’s been an early spring I think, because there were still flowers on this creeper in July last year, and already the fruit is a reasonable size. It has come from a garden behind, up and over the wall. I trained it onto wires, and it seems quite happy. If we come back in September, maybe they will be orange and ripe to eat, with such a long season.

The leaves of the plant look like beaten metal, and I am tempted to use them as a template for a little fence or gateway… find a blacksmith who can do this in Brighton.

Breakfast on the terrace is bearable, lovely actually – then the heat rises to 36°C. Even the weekly market packed up at midi, stalls dismantled in a matter of minutes, and the new white garlic  had to be retrieved from the van!

Thunder today, bringing the swifts lower to catch the insects – screaming around in adolescents gangs, over the rooftop and into the street, low, synchronised. The little lizard peeps out, watching the ants on the wall, salivating I expect!

Another home's boundary

The edges of this little French garden seem very close together now, compared with the new one in Brighton. A small cour with a beaten earth floor leads to the little raised terrace, no bigger than a boxroom. Even the mulberry - le murier platane - has expanded to fill the space. Pruning it over the last two years – partly to clear the shady areas of the patio – has given it vigour, and new smaller branches are bearing fruit. With big leaves on them – heart shaped and shiny. The puzzle is to work out what the seedlings are in the mint pot under the tree. They could be mulberries, sown by dropping off the tree or even bird-sown. But the leaves look different, more cut-in and pointy, less shiny. Did I plant other seeds there, from another fruit tree, thinking it would be good to start a little fruitier? What other trees are around– not beech, maybe a cerisier from last year’s crop in Ceret ?

This year we are here early, so I’m collecting the black mulberries from the branches I can now reach, and adding them to a sugary pot. Maybe to turn them into liqueur by the end of the week?

Glowing red harvests

Conserve de Framboises

Raspberry Royale

Just before the rain, we picked all the Redcurrants that were left, about 300g, so only 2 little pots of jelly.
The Raspberries did better, seven pots and still more coming everyday. The recipe is from a French book and is called Conserve de Marie, minimal cooking, lots of sugar - the taste of summer on a spoon!
The blackcurrants have also made a good litre of the basis for Crème de Cassis, currently steeping in 40 degs proof Alcool Pour Fruits in the cupboard until November. Then it gets strained, sugar added, and stored for another few weeks until ready for Christmas Kir Royale!

Gelée de Groseilles - redcurrant jelly!

Redcurrants in the late evening sun

The beautiful prospect of growing things

Beets, spinach, pot marigolds, leeks, cosmos, nasturtiums, mache, and yellow french beans... is it too much? We planted a lot in the bed... yes and took inspiration from the Potager, so leeks are in a circle, and then curves abound. I'm really looking forward to what it will look like in a few weeks' time, when all has settled in.

Then a deep cull of Sycamore, so much so that we uncovered the fence and saw signs of life from next door! The compost bins are now open to the elements a bit more, but more importantly, there will be light over a good part of the right hand fruit beds. And a whole new planting space has emerged, still to be cleared but the prospect of a vertical trellis for growing climbing fruit is in view.

The Top Bed now has another squash - Vif d'Etampes potiron - and it will be edged with the fiery red flowers of Crocosmia Lucifer. At the other end, three Crambe Maritima plants that I grew from root cuttings (my first ever!) are in there too, waiting for the growth that will show a marvellous structural framework in the winter... this year's christmas tree?

Second raised bed now ready for veg!

Two and a half hours' work and what emerged was a lovely fertile bed. Now double-height edged, raked and watered, it has rows of Red Titan Beetroot, little plants that have been sitting in modules for 6 weeks or more. I bet they're ready to spread their roots a bit! Cornflower Black Ball in rows for cutting too, a deep purple flower, from The Garden House seed. Can't see anything there? No, me neither - just wait two weeks and there'll be a lush carpet of red, green, steely grey and what I think will be pink Candy Stripe Cosmos.

What should go in next is spinach and french beans, before the Leeks - 50 of 'em bought from the man in Poix de Picardie Market on Monday. Also I read somewhere that veg patches often had Gladioli  - for cutting or for insect confusion? Either, it will do, as I have some sitting in a pot waiting to go in. Maybe some of the Pot Marigolds as well, with the Welsh Onions.
Digging I came across a yellow toad deep in the earth of the bed. Two slow worms, one quite small, the other about the size and colour of a new HB pencil - silvery/ochre and black -  slid their ways over the ground, and a little lizard, brown on top, orange underneath, played dead while I moved it out of the spade's way.

Then I was reading Summer's Permaculture Magazine, and here's a beautiful permaculture potager, laid out in diamonds and tapestry patterns. Maybe the leeks could be in the form of a circle or a spiral...
Still to put in: Crambe, Cosmos and Bidens, Nasturtiums, a French pumpkin and a round 'Nero' courgette. Then a French Cornichon into the greenhouse I think.

There's a gorgeous little blog entry from Jardin d'Orsan about how to protect top fruit from wasps and other predators, and coincidentally produce large and succulent fruit at the same same - with paper bags!

Have water, let it rain!

before...

Two days of lovely damp weather, about 2 cm rain on Sunday I think, judging from the overflow situation in the butts!

We waded into the summer-fruiting Raspberry patch to clear as much as possible before the rain got at the fruit, and we got thoroughly wet ourselves.

during...

500g resulted, and about 1/3rd of the space cleared of ground elder, bindweed and the occasional bramble.

after!!

Sycamore branches were thinned too, so at least less shade over the fruit beds, although this narrowed the dripline.
And by tonight (Wednesday) all the ground cleared, and another 500g of raspberries. Tying up the canes as we go, this year I will be able to tell the fruited canes from the new ones!

Instead of eating them, I have put them into a kilner jar,
with 300g sugar and filled the jar with the 40 Alcool pour fruits,
to make a raspberry liqueur.

Now, what to do with the Groseilles?