Just a reminder......

Just a reminder that I will be drawing this giveaway (see post March 23rd) on Thursday 1st April...no it's not an April Fool! There's still time to enter. It's a light hearted story with some interesting details about shoe design and making.

Easter flowers

I love being able to go out in the garden to pick a few daffodils, catkins and

Spring things. We've waited ages for flowers, but

at last they are here.

Now I can get my tiny Easter decorations out of the

drawer, and fix them to hazel branches.

There were some little chocolate eggs

around the jug......

but they seem to have disappeared.

Could it be mice?

Lent. Palm Sunday

The Donkey

by G.K. Chesterton

When fishes flew and forests walked,
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry,
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
Of all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient, crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.

---

“

Two bad mice?

Was it you , two bad mice?





This was once the bag belonging to my husband's Planer, left in its box in the workshed. It was used to catch the shavings and sawdust.


Not any more!
I think the two have been busy.
Can you imagine what a lovely soft nest they will have?!
My husband is muttering...'Traps!'

Sending you a little bit of Spring.

Reading selection, and giveaway.

I gathered up my usual eclectic selection of books that I'm

reading at the moment.

The one above is a giveaway as I have two copies.

By Adriana Trigiani it is the story of Valentine, a shoemaker. You may already know Trigiani's novels. This one is escapism, charmingly written, ideal

for a cup of coffee and an armchair.

Leave me a comment if you would like it.

I'll close the giveaway on April 1st.

I have been dipping into Dorothy Sayers, how many years have

passed since I discovered her beautifully crafted detective novels?....far more than

just detective novels, literary prose at its best.

A sweet story by Eva Ibbotson, another writer whose use of language gladdens my heart.

Max Lucado's thought provoking 'He chose the nails', a book for Lent.

And finally this delightful book by Sara Midda,

'In and out of the Garden'.

Her illustrations are miniature, exquisite.

This is a book of which I never tire. There is always a page to

discover some new little things, so carefully painted.

I sometimes wish I didn't read quite so fast!

But there's always Country Living to dip into.

Lent 5

The beautiful window above is by Marc Chagall, and is to be found in

a small church near Tonbridge in S.E.England.

I watched Songs of Praise tonight and was fascinated by

the history of stained glass in English and European churches.

This little church has the only examples of Chagall's work in England,

and the windows were commissioned by the

d'Avigdor-Goldsmid family in memory

of their 21 year old daughter Sarah, who tragically lost her life

in a sailing accident.

This is a lasting lifelong memorial to her.

I wondered so much what I would leave behind.

I thought about the things our Lord left behind for us.

His grace.

His forgiveness.

His ultimate sacrifice.

The first day of Spring

Today, 20th March, is the first day of Spring in the Northern Hemisphere.

According to our neighbours one should never plant the vegetables before this date. The frosts can be treacherous here, but at last Spring is showing in the gardens.

I wish my Cherry was as beautiful as this, but it has been very timid this year, and is only just beginning to flower.

The poem below is by Robert Frost , 1874 - 1963, an American poet with English ancestry. I think it's appropriate for the first day of Spring.

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

Oh, give us pleasure in the orchard white,
Like nothing else by day, like ghosts by night;
And make us happy in the happy bees,
The swarm dilating round the perfect trees.

And make us happy in the darting bird
That suddenly above the bees is heard,
The meteor that thrusts with needle bill,
And off a blossom in mid-air stands still.

For this is love and nothing else is love,
The which it is reserved for God above
To sanctify to what far ends He will,
But which it only needs that we fulfill.

Empty home.

Our nest box is high up in a Silver birch tree, and is so far empty, we think. I should perhaps spend an hour or two watching it, but havent the time to do that. We know it was used last year, and hope a family will be asking for the rental contract soon.

The neighbours probably might wonder why I clean my hairbrush out of doors at the moment, but our birds love hair to weave into their nests. They have stripped the moss from the rockery and chunks are lying around the terrace. I leave them there as I know they will be spirited away by the bluetits.

The old nest tucked into our Clematis Montana was getting a scrutiny this morning, so I do hope that will be rehousing someone soon.

I love this time of year, birdsong is everywhere. It's a new beginning.

Ang's giveaway

My friend is having a giveaway! Do visit Angela at Tracing Rainbows .

She has been doing a major declutter, and this giveaway would be ideal for anyone who loves crafting or making toys.

Whilst tidying her spare room she managed to find a rowing machine under the heaps of stuff (sorry, very valuable objects).

I tried tidying my spare room, but nowhere did I find a rowing machine, however hard I looked.

So do go over and have a look at Ang's giveaway!

At last!

Spring? Yes, I think so, at last.

Every day has been so bitterly cold here, but all of a sudden after two days of sunshine, things are budding.

Baby daffodils are elbowing their way manfully out of the earth, and waving triumphantly.

One or two primroses are in bud.

Camellia buds, some killed off in the frosts, are almost open.

In the photo is one of my tree paeonies, which when it flowers is a mass of blowsy pink candyfloss petals. I took the photo last week but now the buds are bigger and better!

How lovely to have something positive happening in the garden. I can't wait to get out there and start working. I feel a bit like Mary in The Secret Garden....not quite knowing what I'm going to find, but hopeful.

Lent reflection

Our service today was, not surprisingly, on the theme of Mothering Sunday.

Mothering Sunday and sacrifice.

The sacrifices that mothers make for their children....

time,

careers,

money,

and so many more.

The gifts our mothers gave us.....

Love,

Patience,

Understanding,

Time,

and so many more.

In Lent, a time of preparation, it's a time to see other's sacrifices,

a time to think of our Lord's

greatest sacrifice,

a time to say Thank you.

My day was made more beautiful by

the flowers above from my son.

Closed.

This is a notice seen too often since the credit crunch began to be felt in France. Small shops are closing, little patisseries feel the pinch, clothes shops are not doing well.

Sadly this week one of our two small restaurants in the village has closed its doors. It was once a creperie, but the second owners revamped it and made it into a very attractive pizzeria and brasserie. Their lunch time menu, three courses, cost 9 euros and was good. But there was already a restaurant in the village, one that had been there for years, and no one can compete with it. It caters for the 'ouvriers', the workmen, the lorry drivers and general public too, and does a good lunch for 10 euros with wine thrown in. It's very popular.

We will miss the other one, and I wonder if anyone will be brave enough to start yet another restaurant there.

Snowdrops in a parcel.

Snowdrops are not common in this part of Brittany, and I do miss them. In my garden in England I had little snowdrifts of them.


But snowdrops can travel! A large padded envelope arrived today. Inside was a somewhat damp wrapping, more cellophane wrapping.....and a lovely little bunch of perfect English snowdrops! What a surprise!








Thank you to my friend Angela of Tracing Rainbows. I couldnt believe that someone had been so kind as to go to all that trouble, wrapping, damping , rewrapping, just to give me such pleasure. I'm so very touched.

Windows

The Bretons believe that the windows are the eyes of a house, and if they arent clean there's something wrong. My husband does ours as they are all on one floor and it's not difficult.

Watching him the other day I wondered if there were still windowcleaners in England? France doesnt seem to have them, you can't just pick up the yellow pages and hunt for one, they dont exist. It must be the mark of a good Breton housewife/husband! to clean ones own windows.

I remember when our window cleaner came around to our English house, equipped with ladders and buckets. Nowadays it wouldn't surprise me to hear that they had to erect scaffolding under Health and Safety rules.

I did find, however, that there is a British Window Cleaners Academy, founded in 1997!

Hellebores

Yes, I know you've seen them before, but I can't resist a photo of my beautiful flowers!



When I look at them after a frosty night I wonder how they can possibly survive....but during the day their heads come up, they lean to the sunshine (what little there is), and they become beautiful again.

A pause in Lent, 3.

We go each week to a small group studying a Lent course. We have divided views on the content, but it is the discussion that matters.

This week the subject was Silence. The film 'Into great silence', about which I had never heard, was mentioned. Filmed at a Carthusian monastery in the French alps, the producer was allowed to film for 6 months. It was many years before he was granted this permission.

The monks live a life of prayer and quiet, a life of patience and simpicity. There is the minimum of commentary and the film immerses one wholly in the calm life of the monastery. The monks pray aloud, and sing Gregorian chants, but they speak only when necessary.

I am naturally, a very quiet person. I don't have a radio on during the day or when driving...I can't bear mindless chatter. Silence is a natural for me, but it was good to think more deeply about the reasons for quiet. Although I have not seen the film, the discussion brought home to me the discipline of silence that we need, the 'handing over' of our natural desire to chatter, the willingness that we need to become closer to our Lord in Lent, this time of sacrifice.

This dainty little gardening set bears no resemblance to my muddy trowel, my scruffy garden gloves and my ancient secateurs. All of which I have been using today.

I can't imagine tripping round my garden bearing such a clean and unused set, much as I would love to. My tools never stay looking pristine, which is, of course, my fault, as I'm very bad at cleaning them properly.

My trowel is an ancient one belonging to my late mother, with a handle bound up with string. I love it. My secateurs, all three pairs, need sharpening. My gloves.....oh dear, I do go through gloves, even the hardiest kind get holes in the fingers.

But despite the lack of 'things of beauty', my garden is a joy forever, and this afternoon I have sorted out all the Hellebores, taking off their old dead leaves and telling them how pretty they are. I do believe that a chat now and then helps a plant along. I have wrestled with the dreaded Couch grass, finally resorting to spraying it with killer. I don't care. I hate the stuff.

My Wisterias are nicely cut back as are my climbing roses. The greenhouse is the next project. Time for a cup of tea.

Travels with my dentist.........

My dentist loves to talk.

The problem lies with the fact that he loves to talk in English. He also loves to act out his scenarios with much handwaving.

Charming though his 'Hingleesh ' is, it takes up rather a lot of time, so that what should be a 30 minute appointment often becomes an hour...or so.

Every little tool is explained. Every process is gone through. The secrets of resin are explained to me. Small bits of extracted tooth are laid out for examination. The drill bit is shown to me with reassurances;

"Hit is not a road dreel madame, hit ees a vairy smoll point, voila, you can see 'ow it vill not hurt you? There vill be no blood, ha ha ha". Pause for quick look at computer image of my teeth. ("hm hm, vot shall I do 'ere? I could make ze pins , or........)

Eventually I get to the point where I say politely that I'd rather not know any details, please just get on with it. To be told......"Ho, non madame, I must tell my clients all. Ozzervise I might be a liar, 'ow you say liar in hingleesh?'

Liar, actually.

"Hah, zen I tell you a joke about ze dentist who is called a liar................."

Etc.

Seriously, he is a lovely dentist, and I'd put up with his talking any day.

Reduced vegetable beds.

The project for the raised vegetable beds is under way, at last.

We struggled with a huge veggie garden last year, but have now grassed

down about a third of it, and it will be so much easier to manage

two beds, approx. 5m x 2m each.

It just remains to put down the plastic on the paths and cover it with

a thick layer of bark chippings.

Then planting can start.

The blackberry you can see in the foreground

is looking extremely healthy.

I'm still using frozen berries from last Summer.

You cant see the other part of the garden in the photo.

That part has all the soft fruit, gooseberries,

raspberries, blackcurrants and strawberries.

So there's still plenty of work to be done!

Tempest Xynthia

The Tempest known as Xynthia swept through Spain, Portugal

and parts of France this week. So many friends have contacted us

to make sure that we have not been affected.

Brittany seemed to miss all but high winds, and

our neighbours lost their greenhouse. But compared to other regions

we have not suffered.

The photo above was taken near Bergerac. Although

the tempest was forecast, it was apparently not expected to be this violent.

Around fifty people were killed,

and it then went on to rage through Germany and the Netherlands.

Neighbours

I thought I'd show you three of our neighbours. Two little black and one large elderly sheep spend their very contented days in this field which adjoins our garden.

We look across to the typical Breton 'manor' house, lived in by one lady, also elderly. She doesnt mix with the village. We have been in the house, and it very dark inside...but could be so lovely!