tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72981072772305491512024-03-20T08:17:12.605+01:00dialogues avec mon jardinier écossaisNonsense from a Scottish gardener in Francele jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-72356619240236849772014-04-11T22:09:00.001+02:002014-04-12T23:25:55.684+02:00End of an Era<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John Blatchford, the Head Gardener, died on 13 March 2014.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John and Annabel, his daughter, bought the house in Villeneuve de Duras some 25 years ago. At that time, there were few foreigners in the village. John vowed to try to integrate - he learned French, he spoke to people. He was often to be seen sitting outside his house, reading a book and having his morning coffee. An excellent time to see and be seen, as folk went to the boulangerie for their morning baguette.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />John always said that I was welcome in Villeneuve any time and for as long as I wanted to stay. However, there was a condition - only one - that I did the cooking.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our wives, separately and together, asked us what we talked about and what we did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What did we talk about? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sometimes something and lots of times nothing at all. I have always thought that being truly comfortable in someone's company requires no conversation, no inanities to fill the silence. John and I could do silence - we could also do inanities.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What did we do?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life had a routine. Up early, coffee and cigarettes. Apero after 6pm - <u>never</u> before - with only one exception. In between.......there was no routine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John acquired a garden from Mamie. She and her husband fed their family from the garden. I don't know her real name. She was always Mamie, or more formally La Mamie, to everyone. She played petanque - god, she played petanque! It is one of my proudest moments - to beat an 80 year old granny at petanque.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">John and Mamie in the garden.....</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4k1hJRP9xiEZuIoCbC9e5VkfDW6czTnodSBF4cqpGIbVJwiYcVhfVmFbHDHrs55Giprf5t831-sg6nPW-pTZ_NfPUFjoQ-bJN4BVnP5DKTStVzESlu8D0rHAzxFGWgwtoLKPOyvKeMmT/s1600/2007_J+&+Mamie+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM4k1hJRP9xiEZuIoCbC9e5VkfDW6czTnodSBF4cqpGIbVJwiYcVhfVmFbHDHrs55Giprf5t831-sg6nPW-pTZ_NfPUFjoQ-bJN4BVnP5DKTStVzESlu8D0rHAzxFGWgwtoLKPOyvKeMmT/s1600/2007_J+&+Mamie+4.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, what did we do? We did a lot of this......</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHX1uFD4iqMXhyphenhyphen0pSvf6l9E7C69rVBSqdEp4lKBYxOsncPFUN2FzFbvi8pGZxOP6g0BwUEpdHr0VdVzAveJYLgdAA3ZHH58pnpFzuutFf_cojDIJfw8c-lgvnlQLub9qDM7hZm1a8LI6Z/s1600/IMG_3468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHX1uFD4iqMXhyphenhyphen0pSvf6l9E7C69rVBSqdEp4lKBYxOsncPFUN2FzFbvi8pGZxOP6g0BwUEpdHr0VdVzAveJYLgdAA3ZHH58pnpFzuutFf_cojDIJfw8c-lgvnlQLub9qDM7hZm1a8LI6Z/s1600/IMG_3468.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and lots of this....</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4M5Fq6HysYG9Sxv_ysEbvnTHA7jyiOlG540W0UOMfJGvQzMOuy3YNpjIk-MJmE0tsocDNu2k5Xtu8EdNOuM2Kf68rZohAUuL1Ki0oH-8ZahHQFhMFMuebI7dP3K6ZolyXLmQqMRxMK6e/s1600/IMG_3368.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4M5Fq6HysYG9Sxv_ysEbvnTHA7jyiOlG540W0UOMfJGvQzMOuy3YNpjIk-MJmE0tsocDNu2k5Xtu8EdNOuM2Kf68rZohAUuL1Ki0oH-8ZahHQFhMFMuebI7dP3K6ZolyXLmQqMRxMK6e/s1600/IMG_3368.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in order to turn this.....</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZ-dXkZQilGoPw2PrxYNRJO-xePJh-QszM1EDMExLnSOG_ir74qBt_tH8fdT1adtBANib7M5GF1KaDxj3y4gWZ9pkek-ZOnpxGUA06ZfNmm5gdzARwJR26oB6zM-niscRI1_D9EFtJKZo/s1600/CIMG0501.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyZ-dXkZQilGoPw2PrxYNRJO-xePJh-QszM1EDMExLnSOG_ir74qBt_tH8fdT1adtBANib7M5GF1KaDxj3y4gWZ9pkek-ZOnpxGUA06ZfNmm5gdzARwJR26oB6zM-niscRI1_D9EFtJKZo/s1600/CIMG0501.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">into this..........</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ls8PdgIdGfIB6CpOtfLRY-0Tha5fFczHXVF1IF888ye_FndmMGS09si9tdc3mJc8-Zj8x2z49vR0ZP_n_t4-Qr42eqTlCs7PF__IA3uuinXiAMgwKuO3_ZEKm4-DXRa5Vabems5hw3gz/s1600/CIMG0516.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_Ls8PdgIdGfIB6CpOtfLRY-0Tha5fFczHXVF1IF888ye_FndmMGS09si9tdc3mJc8-Zj8x2z49vR0ZP_n_t4-Qr42eqTlCs7PF__IA3uuinXiAMgwKuO3_ZEKm4-DXRa5Vabems5hw3gz/s1600/CIMG0516.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We also did a bit of this......</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfAp_yDI34-AimYW04gQgA36CGvBxk7Fh0QVjLvGHz_zpJpELSf8i7KooMidYWePm6yC13Qx4mi-9UXPT2pgQTNfJGDGkR-fCbtEKCyZz3iPwUESfFPA86YsE4iug2S5mE-IbH0hnSfWo/s1600/IMG_2858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIfAp_yDI34-AimYW04gQgA36CGvBxk7Fh0QVjLvGHz_zpJpELSf8i7KooMidYWePm6yC13Qx4mi-9UXPT2pgQTNfJGDGkR-fCbtEKCyZz3iPwUESfFPA86YsE4iug2S5mE-IbH0hnSfWo/s1600/IMG_2858.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and some of this.....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The entire week was <u>not</u> without structure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mondays and Saturdays were market days - Monday Duras, Saturday Ste Foy La Grande. We rarely bought anything. We did buy vegetable plants at Ste Foy, oh and some chickens. We would wander round, then go for a beer and watch the world go by. Regine's in Duras was our favoured haunt. If we went anywhere near Duras, we went to Regine's. A bit like <i>Where's Wally - </i>spot John.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Apparently, legend has it, it used to be a brothel. Lovely circular staircase (he says waving his finger in a circular motion, as if circular staircases could otherwise be described) and good <i>pression</i>. We knew we'd arrived, or were going too often, when Regine started giving us kisses.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Villeneuve de Duras will be the poorer without John. I'll miss him too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Où sont les neiges d'antan? (Francois Villon)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Photographs courtesy of Graham B Edwards and/or Marcel Du Marché to whom the copyright belongs.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-53532294592338730672011-06-26T22:38:00.002+02:002011-06-27T17:25:27.352+02:00A Death'If you have animals, you'll have dead animals.'<br />
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The cou nu <a href="http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cou_nu_(poule)">http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cou_nu_(poule)</a> has died. It has been very hot today, but the chickens have shade, water and food, so what killed her? I found her in the corner of the chicken-shed - quite dead - stiffly so. Charlemagne was most agitated when I removed her. Maybe he thought she was just asleep. Charlemagne - no she wasn't.<br />
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</div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com0Villeneuve-de-Duras, France44.741 0.2372699999999667944.719413 0.20594949999996678 44.762586999999996 0.26859049999996676tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-44569407393364456262011-06-26T15:42:00.000+02:002011-06-26T15:42:49.070+02:00We need help - now!When I was here in May, I bought 4 courgette plants. They all came from the same stall at the market, they all went in the ground at the same time, and they have all been watered etc at the same time. The only difference is that 3 of them were put into the area where the chickens used to be, the fourth was used to fill a gap in the vegetable plot.<br />
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Spot which is which. John is used only to provide some scale.<br />
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We gathered the crop on Friday, and took a box of them to Le Jardin, the local restaurant (<a href="http://puychagut.com/restaurant/">http://puychagut.com/restaurant/</a>). We ate some on Friday night and the leftovers yesterday. I gathered as much again today.<br />
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We need new and exciting courgette recipes NOW!le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com2Villeneuve-de-Duras, France44.741 0.2372699999999667944.719413 0.20594949999996678 44.762586999999996 0.26859049999996676tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-1941850254943551792010-05-22T22:09:00.027+02:002010-08-12T00:03:31.604+02:00French MarketsDespite the best efforts of supermarkets, the French market continues to flourish.<br /><br />Is it because prices are cheaper - probably not. It's just a lovely exerience. You stroll around, generally in the sunshine. You may meet people you know - and because of the throng, you can avoid people you know and don't want to meet (or is that just me) - and you soak up the ambience. You can buy most everything you'd want:-<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaow2m8M4iv1j3R9HHLEJmgP2JFpC3f9YliyDSjQGUuztMQ5N-5CjsdI6nqlgffXMWN8W5XsQU2wdfPiUjFm0HXRe3oVpp1g2ILrhLK9QEroTnlsvJlU608Ui6V4JBglpwhkrgoWjZLTfw/s1600/Monsegur+Market+1.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474192482074795218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaow2m8M4iv1j3R9HHLEJmgP2JFpC3f9YliyDSjQGUuztMQ5N-5CjsdI6nqlgffXMWN8W5XsQU2wdfPiUjFm0HXRe3oVpp1g2ILrhLK9QEroTnlsvJlU608Ui6V4JBglpwhkrgoWjZLTfw/s200/Monsegur+Market+1.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn9_Up8GnrHtbunwuFikyQV85Duy4tljBqZUyK9qDsEOhY2eOKfvSMIyZPwqhCNGNNOXbYhmpmV7xtOfQ8skM1zPPy8vGLA8U-jdxRnkMXzo1ZFyLyTvoJdvsBUCC9lkt_sB8aoex3ZpR/s1600/Monsegur+Market+2.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474192907341146930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGn9_Up8GnrHtbunwuFikyQV85Duy4tljBqZUyK9qDsEOhY2eOKfvSMIyZPwqhCNGNNOXbYhmpmV7xtOfQ8skM1zPPy8vGLA8U-jdxRnkMXzo1ZFyLyTvoJdvsBUCC9lkt_sB8aoex3ZpR/s200/Monsegur+Market+2.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AO0K1zgy9b5trvLApYuY9dXg5LNMMascOYpZ24oQkAO_p5BI8ZYzGn5K6RuHSOE_H7tRYpn0iI0SwbKA6OaHULPJvDi527mghmCDWQfWloRqGmiDy3hj06qAuHMfCsGKegKQDnpnCVBu/s1600/Monsegur+Market+3.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474193292401592386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5AO0K1zgy9b5trvLApYuY9dXg5LNMMascOYpZ24oQkAO_p5BI8ZYzGn5K6RuHSOE_H7tRYpn0iI0SwbKA6OaHULPJvDi527mghmCDWQfWloRqGmiDy3hj06qAuHMfCsGKegKQDnpnCVBu/s200/Monsegur+Market+3.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Ste Foy la Grande, the nearest big(ish) place to Villeneuve has a Saturday morning market:-<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsxPcVOqMcK2dNT2C8EJdN1N5vF6CNbPONW56LVZsY0kZZdAv6DLKikkP_IN_QAu59ZfEe0CnVGBBE1-1lFuKSla9krTomry_-jyq0wvfANdmhkCU5gDeS4qQJkelH8zmo0N-QsfRLObg/s1600/Ste+Foy+3.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474194718406067010" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFsxPcVOqMcK2dNT2C8EJdN1N5vF6CNbPONW56LVZsY0kZZdAv6DLKikkP_IN_QAu59ZfEe0CnVGBBE1-1lFuKSla9krTomry_-jyq0wvfANdmhkCU5gDeS4qQJkelH8zmo0N-QsfRLObg/s200/Ste+Foy+3.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEnE-dwI00LAWdQ1hJ7MuHVUeRc8aGs8wCNUAcClCmk7hQO2tlgoduMPn0yDABxuvBYN8umIFtzw0P-s2zJp7cy_cNJihn-jtzMQ4JhUcPcS4Tb7xFzztAKhs6dttyHOwZBJDBxCUbkug/s1600/Ste+Foy+4.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474195280770648658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPEnE-dwI00LAWdQ1hJ7MuHVUeRc8aGs8wCNUAcClCmk7hQO2tlgoduMPn0yDABxuvBYN8umIFtzw0P-s2zJp7cy_cNJihn-jtzMQ4JhUcPcS4Tb7xFzztAKhs6dttyHOwZBJDBxCUbkug/s200/Ste+Foy+4.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ABb3dw8ql1fvvOP1VcSKOQB7vdRMr9nemGQsNFC6vquV1wdlvRQBGT_KZvyWMzy-2e_jnfCCpAJmjRqbQDTHRdbqk4cgHOjDP11d4oVMPy1o0opX0LLphsE1R8fQ-nZqP_UYPSJY2pcK/s1600/Fish+at+Ste+Foy.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474195916532428386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6ABb3dw8ql1fvvOP1VcSKOQB7vdRMr9nemGQsNFC6vquV1wdlvRQBGT_KZvyWMzy-2e_jnfCCpAJmjRqbQDTHRdbqk4cgHOjDP11d4oVMPy1o0opX0LLphsE1R8fQ-nZqP_UYPSJY2pcK/s200/Fish+at+Ste+Foy.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEa9s2jTlVlzyvRmW09yT5Az6ug6UOa2HiIeEgnDPEyVP2VtHVcEwJAczU_arGenRuJn0Gf1EN32GJ3hmvJSlduPh1mcT9o5WuUXicqRZ-9NLbLU0h8XbhqesPDOOIgSWOeePJMQyu9sMB/s1600/Oysters+at+Ste+Foy.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 200px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474196547659637026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEa9s2jTlVlzyvRmW09yT5Az6ug6UOa2HiIeEgnDPEyVP2VtHVcEwJAczU_arGenRuJn0Gf1EN32GJ3hmvJSlduPh1mcT9o5WuUXicqRZ-9NLbLU0h8XbhqesPDOOIgSWOeePJMQyu9sMB/s200/Oysters+at+Ste+Foy.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJEmqAQ0eVkQxzj2Y_uXIVLYrGmzIfnM0sIYXrYHAAmY041O3t1heoiJwZDHH-aVOkC5xPckta1Ze-uHLgUlGGAGS8Kxo43chuBWZL8JJUC7-eX7VU0ThXKlkAELCqYSu09w6lRagGw4Z/s1600/Ste+Foy+8.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474197374556725362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIJEmqAQ0eVkQxzj2Y_uXIVLYrGmzIfnM0sIYXrYHAAmY041O3t1heoiJwZDHH-aVOkC5xPckta1Ze-uHLgUlGGAGS8Kxo43chuBWZL8JJUC7-eX7VU0ThXKlkAELCqYSu09w6lRagGw4Z/s200/Ste+Foy+8.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxyGTELzGO46MpMf1XRCvX5ldOtP8NWfBTqrguiopa1790o7n3XQUyYLrjQUv2oZOqrIp-sfTfje_70eKfGxj5jvZNdfbTFfnsA7H8ScNnmqyg6Q083DkaUqjLAkVRY7JFbafNlAUyTgJ/s1600/Ste+Foy+7.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474198125076200514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxyGTELzGO46MpMf1XRCvX5ldOtP8NWfBTqrguiopa1790o7n3XQUyYLrjQUv2oZOqrIp-sfTfje_70eKfGxj5jvZNdfbTFfnsA7H8ScNnmqyg6Q083DkaUqjLAkVRY7JFbafNlAUyTgJ/s200/Ste+Foy+7.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />You can even buy livestock:-<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SUhyNpER8PwmyKVJp5rnBQCeNT0TVbK8nMyE0TnubmbLLDIQbGnrroAvR6___D9a-K3NuWUNpTwLJP6xtd0xUGhar43SbNRsFTiRCvJql3kKTPLlj1XpG6FzNVaT8IQDl0XilYbJv6FT/s1600/Ducks+at+Ste+Foy+Market.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474199198425895554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4SUhyNpER8PwmyKVJp5rnBQCeNT0TVbK8nMyE0TnubmbLLDIQbGnrroAvR6___D9a-K3NuWUNpTwLJP6xtd0xUGhar43SbNRsFTiRCvJql3kKTPLlj1XpG6FzNVaT8IQDl0XilYbJv6FT/s200/Ducks+at+Ste+Foy+Market.JPG" /></a><br /><br />You can have a meal with friends, whilst watching the traffic go by:-<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWL-3reg7Ezqec_l9zne5dvpubHSlbPf-YVCvYBCsWT6zhhOQsEAmauDWxvDdMY14GfkULtmIhj7tG0de_nRxH53BwxX3I9cVIZvO3ta3VSi7crG5ltTT-k0GRiXPimYOK3EE1vts7jXs/s1600/Ste+Foy+9.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474200076300929778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvWL-3reg7Ezqec_l9zne5dvpubHSlbPf-YVCvYBCsWT6zhhOQsEAmauDWxvDdMY14GfkULtmIhj7tG0de_nRxH53BwxX3I9cVIZvO3ta3VSi7crG5ltTT-k0GRiXPimYOK3EE1vts7jXs/s200/Ste+Foy+9.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And you can buy things you never knew you wanted:-<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3q8TwBsuGZhXzd1VWQY9Rj9tlnsjSqpumM5avEERRtImsTtnoSql8RyXMNjHVM6DXpw8bxf-Z0TV38GdLnb2iSQDJk5_7ZknCjwZlyiNvM0aRrobd4iitzwHjoPuDJ0RBmYQENqo-JW_/s1600/Maybe+Not.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474201510457425762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk3q8TwBsuGZhXzd1VWQY9Rj9tlnsjSqpumM5avEERRtImsTtnoSql8RyXMNjHVM6DXpw8bxf-Z0TV38GdLnb2iSQDJk5_7ZknCjwZlyiNvM0aRrobd4iitzwHjoPuDJ0RBmYQENqo-JW_/s200/Maybe+Not.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br />Oh, and here's a picture of my dog, Molly the Collie.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfu5JRTRwfMXsp3S1VkxMg5E8kNcU4ZSv4nKcFTkwGpPvT_Bm3I1FHwOtJCG-ROUPs9sSEt16yqwqdIG1J9-MeUZhti3mWxY-OC_bOU7aRPpxoQkhtHLvFuP5mEowcrTHy176jWAcxsUg/s1600/CIMG0735.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5474202484780866194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsfu5JRTRwfMXsp3S1VkxMg5E8kNcU4ZSv4nKcFTkwGpPvT_Bm3I1FHwOtJCG-ROUPs9sSEt16yqwqdIG1J9-MeUZhti3mWxY-OC_bOU7aRPpxoQkhtHLvFuP5mEowcrTHy176jWAcxsUg/s200/CIMG0735.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-86476532514554787532010-05-21T14:15:00.004+02:002010-05-21T14:24:06.226+02:00I'm Moving to FranceI've decided to take 'le plonge' and move to France.<br /><br />Clearly, there are one or two things to sort out before that can happen. For example, I still work, so securing my retirement may take a little time to organise.<br /><br />As a first step, I thought I needed to get a car and I've found one. It needs one or two things doing to it, but I should manage to get those done by the time I've retired. Here she is. Isn't she a beauty?<br /><div></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcb-VcHjsqo04KaQ2O42ZrD-TNwjqhSq7S3x2e97SKjRy65-ERXp6MVAIkHWhNBD4JxQLOsi3ShJ3FsvLP0TNgm4SiaD7ezkzVpTkfbvY0cTOO6lRyIV5VadqBBJQUyJfGs3EM96XGoxY/s1600/DSCF0003%5B1%5D"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473696377324301474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcb-VcHjsqo04KaQ2O42ZrD-TNwjqhSq7S3x2e97SKjRy65-ERXp6MVAIkHWhNBD4JxQLOsi3ShJ3FsvLP0TNgm4SiaD7ezkzVpTkfbvY0cTOO6lRyIV5VadqBBJQUyJfGs3EM96XGoxY/s320/DSCF0003%5B1%5D" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUH4rS6KAFLcYSCckVND8AA0pX7lHML9Pj0e4wmmK084o8LM2pVYriPncHWiISNu1Iy_-PGZ8-pAS52QMxtpuV1Jntpje9EIggyHMeRKnFuwOwci0e5ccOr9nefYLl1R72pNHf8suJhXX/s1600/DSCF0004%5B1%5D"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5473696998030605090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUH4rS6KAFLcYSCckVND8AA0pX7lHML9Pj0e4wmmK084o8LM2pVYriPncHWiISNu1Iy_-PGZ8-pAS52QMxtpuV1Jntpje9EIggyHMeRKnFuwOwci0e5ccOr9nefYLl1R72pNHf8suJhXX/s320/DSCF0004%5B1%5D" /></a></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-5708422230949414062010-05-16T16:56:00.011+02:002010-05-16T17:35:01.158+02:00Visit to MaumulonOn Tuesday, I went to visit John Marshall near Charroux in the Charente.<br /><br /><br />As John had arrived only the Friday before, and was still getting the house 'opened up' for the summer, I borrowed John B's strimmer and we set to work on the garden.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkz1rsrWhQCP5EGiGh0mnXQX1tfvMD7t0VMWKfz52MIMBaLarmKee9G5fcHZTqWNrhdj-_e0ymZVEdNkGItn0z6-V1YNqBHNQMxyo5Pl6YTq_Y8l_XOgJOXBfVQhclO22TESKwng0dh3Y/s1600/CIMG0752.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471887341615054402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMkz1rsrWhQCP5EGiGh0mnXQX1tfvMD7t0VMWKfz52MIMBaLarmKee9G5fcHZTqWNrhdj-_e0ymZVEdNkGItn0z6-V1YNqBHNQMxyo5Pl6YTq_Y8l_XOgJOXBfVQhclO22TESKwng0dh3Y/s200/CIMG0752.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUt2idSEUA8042hKpPjK4fDLZbdD0KwFM572VBXqO09LaC1-NArMV0VfBHnOMIL6TI6INlowmjwR1G7tT9ImVgsxCQ-o9B4GboAC_q_X7czUOHPfWZRviUOidH4Ni9ajWdaRIpLCOPlKm/s1600/CIMG0753.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471886029923668946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUt2idSEUA8042hKpPjK4fDLZbdD0KwFM572VBXqO09LaC1-NArMV0VfBHnOMIL6TI6INlowmjwR1G7tT9ImVgsxCQ-o9B4GboAC_q_X7czUOHPfWZRviUOidH4Ni9ajWdaRIpLCOPlKm/s200/CIMG0753.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsQUbNFOnaD3mXzdFpxH5aZMZpkQfDxRqNkWFzXbAPNzjmiBIk68ZL57Jiifa5LjXr9lqBKWxQtQloDfqK_wMTJsKkcOTcsUqpcr3vERldx0qdp7WdC8Yvfolexi-HJa8j9Zn4nNaowui/s1600/CIMG0755.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471888594225130210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsQUbNFOnaD3mXzdFpxH5aZMZpkQfDxRqNkWFzXbAPNzjmiBIk68ZL57Jiifa5LjXr9lqBKWxQtQloDfqK_wMTJsKkcOTcsUqpcr3vERldx0qdp7WdC8Yvfolexi-HJa8j9Zn4nNaowui/s200/CIMG0755.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPYJmKJs1vDw6Sz-EbGwzDtET16e2iTWIrZfQAQ7CYyl9v4LRbdnCe_yx_RfNiXIhnWL0rWL8M6H7OzGC38kOpdWaMNQaIlb8dQ51NCOsEGk0JSx_9KJY2V-anOgMFPWOXdUdzkrVKXTT6/s1600/CIMG0755.JPG"></a><br /><br />Having done that, we then got out the big boy's toy and did a supply of logs for the fire.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFYOOfEkOZe4XREdeVGzfv3cdklKFFDAk701ynesfBXJAsgS4uHreypuD0lNjrtraDBnGOiW9LPC_VLkY8fgjplX4IFVADaqBbxFnnMzNfTUQsmOdSA5EwLfivC__ZMQbN-kbN1pRLV-og/s1600/CIMG0747.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471889844989209026" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFYOOfEkOZe4XREdeVGzfv3cdklKFFDAk701ynesfBXJAsgS4uHreypuD0lNjrtraDBnGOiW9LPC_VLkY8fgjplX4IFVADaqBbxFnnMzNfTUQsmOdSA5EwLfivC__ZMQbN-kbN1pRLV-og/s200/CIMG0747.JPG" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIp_kvQsKcEEDuzMLFSONJdaEXYwnKJ3LiyfiTkwCMokPjEScH7ir6f4EWRX9dCSsuymLSRfOzn7m159voALVHUSDkWW8w-BY3MqmJ5Jay5SV7tex09_dDWw1IM-s34q5jXOYov2rFJ29x/s1600/CIMG0751.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 200px; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5471890293210812946" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIp_kvQsKcEEDuzMLFSONJdaEXYwnKJ3LiyfiTkwCMokPjEScH7ir6f4EWRX9dCSsuymLSRfOzn7m159voALVHUSDkWW8w-BY3MqmJ5Jay5SV7tex09_dDWw1IM-s34q5jXOYov2rFJ29x/s200/CIMG0751.JPG" /></a><br /><br />Remarkably, we finished both jobs without either of us bleeding. That probably means we didn't do it properly. Mind you, with a chainsaw I don't think you just bleed, I think you end up with a Long John Silver wooden leg.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglUt2idSEUA8042hKpPjK4fDLZbdD0KwFM572VBXqO09LaC1-NArMV0VfBHnOMIL6TI6INlowmjwR1G7tT9ImVgsxCQ-o9B4GboAC_q_X7czUOHPfWZRviUOidH4Ni9ajWdaRIpLCOPlKm/s1600/CIMG0753.JPG"></a>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-49604068819842069242010-05-10T22:02:00.002+02:002010-05-10T22:13:17.949+02:00FannyI am reading a book by Peter Mayle, <em>Provence A-Z</em>, which gives a version of the origin of <em>to fanny</em>. To fanny someone in petanques is, as I said, to beat someone 13-0. A kiss from the waitress of the local cafe was the consolation prize for the unfortunate loser of the game. The original site of the kiss was the cheek, but the target changed to altogether different cheeks. A similar version appears on the attached web site.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.laboulebleue.fr/la-fanny-s36">http://www.laboulebleue.fr/la-fanny-s36</a><br /><br />Not many people know that. Probably not many people want to know that.<br /><br />I must get one of those plaques.le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-33633885991663177982010-05-10T17:54:00.007+02:002010-05-10T18:21:43.035+02:00Chez Blatchford<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGETtNLU8-gMTtd3wG6fvK6gof_7yVqlpShsKnp0OP3qqhGZlffOpmdcf8RllcXjFj2iE8WY8jKuC5kNX4n27qwVNCdevk8JpDn0buwct6E4HsR2dtHnahWJwhb5vgjWnwK91tRSC1IeV/s1600/CIMG0744.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469671004781420194" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaGETtNLU8-gMTtd3wG6fvK6gof_7yVqlpShsKnp0OP3qqhGZlffOpmdcf8RllcXjFj2iE8WY8jKuC5kNX4n27qwVNCdevk8JpDn0buwct6E4HsR2dtHnahWJwhb5vgjWnwK91tRSC1IeV/s320/CIMG0744.JPG" /></a> Chez Blatchford in this morning's sunshine. In fact, the sun has continued to shine all day today.<br /><div></div><div><br /><div>The house is in the village of Villeneuve de Duras, about an hour inland from Bordeaux. The house was bought in 1988 (or maybe it was 1989 - John's memory is atrocious). It was bought from Juliette Lagenebre, the village grand-dame, who lives next door. At 90 years of age Juliette doesn't look significantly different from the first time I saw her, which was some years ago. Chez Blatchford had been Juliette's family home. It had no running water and no toilet, although for reasons relating to French plumbing laws, a toilet was put in before it was sold. John has gradually improved the property over the years, and he has spent the summer here for years, the summers having got longer after he retired.</div><br /><div></div><div>I sleep in the room at the top left, the one with the windows open. I call it the 'pigeon room', because in the morning, I waken to the sound of cooing doves. The view from the window is lovely too.</div><br /><div></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA9cr0yDAo6RPLgp-yRPaTVQzpsTgTDrve8ewVr5yIqXBdUEyjt5hcaIAm6zrI-2jcWkuvh3OcwQU6KQJtYAOT_FVvVdR7RQTFjPb53C7_6FMDU78Fs_BwaAhQnItw_zAow0gg8cVwI1r/s1600/CIMG0743.JPG"><img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469675463253264306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA9cr0yDAo6RPLgp-yRPaTVQzpsTgTDrve8ewVr5yIqXBdUEyjt5hcaIAm6zrI-2jcWkuvh3OcwQU6KQJtYAOT_FVvVdR7RQTFjPb53C7_6FMDU78Fs_BwaAhQnItw_zAow0gg8cVwI1r/s320/CIMG0743.JPG" /></a><br /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>For dinner - melon and ham for starters, followed by baked aubergines with pesto, tomatoes and cheese. Must go.</div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-11827286316049681572010-05-09T13:06:00.002+02:002010-05-09T13:16:22.768+02:00What a journeyVolcanic ash arrived on the day before my journey. My Ryanair flight was cancelled, so I quickly arranged a bus trip to London and Eurostar from St Pancras to Bordeaux. Bang went my cheap flight, but at least I got here. Once my stiff neck, from sitting up in a bus all night, has eased out I'll be right as rain.<br /><br />I slept a large part of Friday. It is almost unheard of for me to be in bed at 11.30am, but that's when I rose.<br /><br />Saturday followed a familiar pattern - Ste Foy market in the morning and petanque in the afternoon. I just love petanque. I like the game - particularly when I play well, which I did - but I also like the chat. The folk who play are very welcoming, with one exception - a man, we have taken to calling Fanny. I doubt he reads this blog, but I'll not mention his real name just in case. However, he shares his name with a herb that goes particularly well with tomatoes. I christened him Fanny after beating him 13-0 in petanque one year - and what a delight that was.le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-78613404745944605052009-06-30T22:01:00.003+02:002009-06-30T22:33:39.129+02:00I've been demotedLast evening, I went to the bottom of the garden to enjoy the evening sunshine. I may have fallen asleep. How do you know if you've fallen asleep when you don't have a watch, you didn't plot the sun when you sat down and it's still shining on you when you next notice it?<div><br /></div><div>Anyway, having wakened (if I was asleep), I noticed that the chickens were at the top of the garden on the path, so I went up to make sure they didn't go into the lettuce.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I got onto the path the chickens started running towards me. At first, I thought they'd just missed me - the Big Chicken who Knows Where the Food Is. However, having reached about Mach 2, the lead chicken launched herself at me about chest height - my chest, not hers. She was clearly not coming for a cuddle. A nifty sidestep on my part avoided a collision. I was slightly taken aback, and only recovered my senses in time to see incoming Exochick number two heading my way at a slightly lower altitude. I was now stunned. Charlemagne, the cockerel, whose status in the flock is now obviously only slightly higher than mine, had clearly not been consulted about this attempted coup, as he was running around squawking - although maybe he was the planned diversion while they prepared for the second assault, but it never came. They obviously chickened out.</div><div><br /></div><div>What was it about? What had I done?</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe I'll starve them for two days. That'll show them. In the meantime, I've called for an inquiry as to who hatched this plot.</div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-59789377341521556422009-06-28T20:51:00.002+02:002009-06-28T21:03:35.070+02:00I am a chickenOccasionally, the chickens are let out into the garden, but always under strict supervision. They immediately head for the sorrel, which they adore and we haven't yet found a use for, although I'm told it makes good soup. For the moment they are welcome to it. Unfortunately, they also like lettuce.<div><br /></div><div>Yesterday, I mowed one of the wild flower beds. I escorted the chickens to the site, thinking they'd clean up the fallen seed heads and generally tidy the place, and I went to the bottom of the garden to enjoy the evening sunshine. In a matter of moments, I had 2 chickens and a cockerel around my feet. Given the size of the garden and what I thought would be obvious attractions to a chicken, I was somewhat taken aback by their attachment to me. I can only assume that they think I am the big chicken, who knows where the food is. </div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand, maybe I am a chicken.</div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-23892719542360127362009-06-27T10:50:00.005+02:002009-06-28T20:51:13.219+02:00RagondinsComing home as evening was drawing in, we spotted a coypu in a field. On closer inspection, it was a mother (presumably) and 7 babies or whatever coypu young are called. She watched us warily and then they all scampered off into the grass at the side of a river. I crept closer to see if I could get another siting and watched the mother floating in the water as the young played on the water's edge on the other bank. Quite charming, although that's not how they are regarded amongst the farmers locally. They burrow into river banks and eat the crops. Given that the adults are about the size of a terrier, they do probably eat a lot.<div><br /></div><div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrPmmJJ6sVyuERDiGnA1iRnLf4CY_l10DsVTxpXJHHNqIWYdiElUwNILSD5M1UbQYVRu9nkX05j27vF3g0_Mb49f1JPjNWF0R7EV4fbdJxBYUHs-TWtMqGHEvBGNNb4bzpNhpRlhwK5Hjx/s320/Ragondins.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5351932317674521522" /></div><div><br /></div><div>The attached is from a local web site:-</div><div><br /></div><div>Ragondin ("coypu") : semiaquatic herbivorous rodent from South-America; it can weigh several kilos. The coypu was bred for its fur. In Europe, the wild coypus come from animals escaped from farms. The coypu is officially declared vermin since 1988 : eaten into by the galleries, the river banks collapse, the trees are uprooted; the flukes proliferate; the crops are devastated (young corn plants cut at the base to be eaten). The coypu is also called "the hare of the marshes"; it is said that its meat makes excellent pâtés</div><div><br /></div></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-77420500927048188062009-05-12T08:04:00.002+02:002009-05-12T08:17:05.509+02:00Whip snake<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">John caught this 'little' chap outside the Mairie, which is across the road from the house. It bit him only slightly. He was put in one of the fish tanks John keeps for such occasions.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">He is a baby western whip snake. He is about 30cms long. They can grow to around 2 metres long. For information about beasties in France and elsewhere, go to John's Suite 101 site.</span></div><div><!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/harmless_french_snakes"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB">http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/harmless_french_snakes</span></a></span><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/venomous_french_snakes"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB">http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/venomous_french_snakes</span></a></span><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/newts_and_salamanders_of_southern_france"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB">http://reptilesamphibians.suite101.com/article.cfm/newts_and_salamanders_of_southern_france</span></a></span><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US"><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><a href="http://lizards.suite101.com/article.cfm/lizards_in_france">http://lizards.suite101.com/article.cfm/lizards_in_france</a></span></span><span style="mso-ansi-language:EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">The snake was released into the garden and disappeared in only a moment. His body is a dull brown colour, so he blends well into the foliage. His head has beautiful markings.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Let's hope by the time he is any bigger, he has moved on.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVJqSBGBG5-gUYi1v7-RTboGdCDLcG_oQ-vX1X_RdJ4Og8hrcQnqTkAkPhgVOpg6u5kXRkVQPh9eS9IZgA4HLJyywbo_6J_5uIYczEvZs1SXbMNTb46UK2WcpE63QGpjVQfDXd78E5npM/s1600-h/Young+Western+Whipsnake.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVJqSBGBG5-gUYi1v7-RTboGdCDLcG_oQ-vX1X_RdJ4Og8hrcQnqTkAkPhgVOpg6u5kXRkVQPh9eS9IZgA4HLJyywbo_6J_5uIYczEvZs1SXbMNTb46UK2WcpE63QGpjVQfDXd78E5npM/s320/Young+Western+Whipsnake.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334817441079583746" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></p> <!--EndFragment--> </div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-35712800853769557692009-05-10T19:01:00.000+02:002009-05-10T19:24:01.357+02:00Starting a familyIn the wisteria at the end of the garden in front of the house, a couple of goldfinches have set up residence. The nest is a small tight cup, which sits on a branch. It's lovely thing.<div><br /><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LqNjS1zT3qSlBH10JwWhjQkeJL9r6OhWn0YVXqvLL3L-KEuE_eYqneAwjoBzx_maYHlQwthUnhIAXSKOY5VkN6r2eRQYs5gJFW70PsCHK82FIxkBxcOlYznGbtTNN3KHURWCkpObv86A/s320/Wisteria.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334245105659687778" /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>The female has obviously laid her eggs, and she is now sitting tight. The male visits and takes up station on a branch. He seems to be guarding her. Maybe he thinks he has done his bit, and he's just at a loose end.</div><div><br /></div><div>The nest is so well camoflaged that I had to wait for a bit of a breeze to lift the leaves, so that I could see her.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUhUt2mkTFr9VOlKlPAqdJE05Kp19ypQ5BTgu6c1OKEpTtDO5cR3YbeUvTenWTQalColoS_qnh1WPNUfpMPxVYRnfC-maLsvXfRYxCo6CVVemFki2jx16BUz-Ktu2nWzWqMoCcjF-Xfsj/s320/Goldfinch+on+nest.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334244482180488578" /><br /></div><div>Incubation is 12/13 days, and the young stay in the nest for another 14 days, fed by both parents. So Dad's obviously just out with the lads until he's next on duty. John will have to keep me up to date on their progress after Sunday next.</div></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-33894164607111469082009-05-10T10:32:00.000+02:002009-05-10T19:28:44.680+02:00Charlemagne et ses femmesWe went to Ste Foy la Grande market yesterday morning and chose our chickens.<div><br /></div><div>The stall, well - lorry, which sells poultry does a roaring trade in chickens, ducks, turkeys and guinea fowl.</div><div><br /></div><div><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMl0kaYavyxG49pnOYpt6Vcn_E-BijO1KE_pj0rLxqcmc1XeT3FFcg6sHXK8J1d67HeB1x0_lrp8Nz-0v98y6QgyOEd0xm6RnJe6kfWpXrmut1x5TDwOaoEWaOVgrSrt2nR1Y5tvxRfbv_/s320/Chicken1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334111867794129042" /></div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBG78UL_r_3nNku0RVoR60sSRrMXo47UOU6wz7O5_Kw5POJIrtde1Xq7B989-ETi9CiYxNsUMNfVP56Akh1JVzLYg9BqADr9aQOWboine3Cxya79ffDS3dus9S3KS2v9xATfW2A96oIAw/s320/Chicken2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334111314057720514" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We then installed Charlemagne and his ladies in the temporary chicken run. They will be let into the main run, once they get used to the place. They seem quite happy - they are eating and drinking. Charlemagne crows beautifully, and does to the hens what cockerels are supposed to do.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9sbEkxIOWmyGxHyJRitF_srf_46nwEbtaiwfD53LAcvn4dwi4OE9wr8hdAXZ7SJVJWq7ZTAY34ob4AvEgabs9cLCFou8UYe0tlfGMIjniiMFSgGSWpOmuwKNvLy7lWWh-jrGUBzVzZWbc/s1600-h/Charlemagne+et+ses+femmes.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9sbEkxIOWmyGxHyJRitF_srf_46nwEbtaiwfD53LAcvn4dwi4OE9wr8hdAXZ7SJVJWq7ZTAY34ob4AvEgabs9cLCFou8UYe0tlfGMIjniiMFSgGSWpOmuwKNvLy7lWWh-jrGUBzVzZWbc/s320/Charlemagne+et+ses+femmes.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334112728494834482" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-39617130829954135302009-05-08T23:31:00.000+02:002009-05-09T01:56:59.470+02:00French garden politicsJohn and I have been wondering how we might arrange to get the top corner of the garden from Mamie. I need to put this in context ( Geeb, just go to sleep):-<div><br /></div><div>John acquired the garden, by means which are too convoluted to relate, from la Mamie. Yes, the same personage, which I beat at petanque. If I can work the magic, a photo may appear later.</div><div><br /></div><div>Although John has the garden, Mamie still had proprietorial rights over it - until today, that is.</div><div><br /></div><div>I went to the garden this afternoon and met Patricia, Mamie's grand-daughter. She asked if we had a strimmer - of course she knows we have a strimmer! Everyone in the world that is Villeneuve knows we have a strimmer. She asked if we might 'tidy up' the top corner, which used to be the chicken run, as La Mamie wasn't up to it any more. I said, of course we could do that. John arrived and I said, of course, he would like a couple of chickens, perhaps they could go in there. I'll ask La Mamie, Patricia said..............</div><div><br /></div><div>An hour later, I had strimmed the patch and John and I were working on creating a chicken run. It may not be palatial, but the chickens will be happy and safe there. The cost? 4 hours of effort and plenty of negotiating, or rather sensitivity. La Mamie and her husband worked the plot for many years, in order to feed their family. It has sentimental attachment - it is what for years has defined her. The garden was her husband's passion.</div><div><br /></div><div>For her the cost in giving it up was huge. For us, it will cost the space for 4 tomato plants, 4 strawberry plants and a few raspberries, which she will have as her own. Sounds like an unequal deal to me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is a bitch, and then you die.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNLhj6Q_kp76QGVEx4h8c6GutoDbVEby33UCORgBtkkqL5Xyn4n2bHNfdFGt0GoTZoCLE-cxMEyet0whNorVvzYGZXOmtecEphApvCyUj-w2BGhOCo-P-BJyMYIEDhwY81lry23kGWM4V/s1600-h/CIMG0527.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVNLhj6Q_kp76QGVEx4h8c6GutoDbVEby33UCORgBtkkqL5Xyn4n2bHNfdFGt0GoTZoCLE-cxMEyet0whNorVvzYGZXOmtecEphApvCyUj-w2BGhOCo-P-BJyMYIEDhwY81lry23kGWM4V/s320/CIMG0527.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333598498761586050" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This is La Mamie with John and Patricia in the background. Don't be fooled by her frail appearance, she is a fierce petanque player. No quarter given or expected. Tomorrow, I hope to beat at least a 70 year old.</div><div><br /></div><div>Our efforts at constructing a chicken run drew some attention. Villeneuve is, after all, a small place.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdUFRo_VnCm-6ETvT8b7yRnkKD_kYKaW3SM7o05w-4QKhdqo6tYEYdJwVBjEprEQTS-K6-W2VfDYi_XruCqZaqsC9DaLfSLEFuqt8IyiCTuomnXmEvZoVzuGY4hFteMQhnMRRewUOiVRU-/s1600-h/CIMG0535.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdUFRo_VnCm-6ETvT8b7yRnkKD_kYKaW3SM7o05w-4QKhdqo6tYEYdJwVBjEprEQTS-K6-W2VfDYi_XruCqZaqsC9DaLfSLEFuqt8IyiCTuomnXmEvZoVzuGY4hFteMQhnMRRewUOiVRU-/s320/CIMG0535.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333600281838572914" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></div><div> </div><div>The lady on the left, neither of us had met her before, said that John needed 'un petit coq'. Perhaps it loses something in the translation, but I said to John, in English, that I understood he already had one. French country life is like that - doubles ententres abound. I just wish I understood them all.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the chicken run is ready.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyevL-GhExULHQzq2GQ8omnT4fVyNnjuC-6-g_Toh_V3vcIS6jrdtBiDQRbMs6vozyfHSx638wC1PGA9O2cwoKDb-Js1MLNDysLYsjzSziBGAGu4iNuQOJgnfpPFLAf19ehSMa9XA3WWI/s1600-h/CIMG0534.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSyevL-GhExULHQzq2GQ8omnT4fVyNnjuC-6-g_Toh_V3vcIS6jrdtBiDQRbMs6vozyfHSx638wC1PGA9O2cwoKDb-Js1MLNDysLYsjzSziBGAGu4iNuQOJgnfpPFLAf19ehSMa9XA3WWI/s320/CIMG0534.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333602325879887586" style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>We had debated the question of 'un coq', but had dismissed it on the basis that it would be too near the mayor's house. However, because it is rural France and nothing escapes the mayor, he found out that we were constructing a chicken run. 'Of course, you must have a coq', he said. 'It is the sound of the country'. When the mayor makes a suggestion, it is really an instruction. Robert, the mayor, is on the left of this photo.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh28q9VqM1G7DKKUi8lWxr6QqdFv-LdG9LLz34YvdmmCNeNT2eH8dAQfwUxBOw23GCecjF_2hXalkk6ZdJAlh9A096RwouTAycrTDRzWn7V0iYm-0nejBs6ox0N9GZqiksgoW1OQKwCjvfc/s1600-h/CIMG0536.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh28q9VqM1G7DKKUi8lWxr6QqdFv-LdG9LLz34YvdmmCNeNT2eH8dAQfwUxBOw23GCecjF_2hXalkk6ZdJAlh9A096RwouTAycrTDRzWn7V0iYm-0nejBs6ox0N9GZqiksgoW1OQKwCjvfc/s320/CIMG0536.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333604531188642770" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow, we will go to the market at Ste Foy la Grande and buy some chickens and un coq.</div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7298107277230549151.post-88212898584176306802009-05-05T18:28:00.000+02:002009-05-05T18:48:16.180+02:00Not a Matter of Life and Death<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Petanque is played in Villeneuve de Duras on a Saturday. People, mostly men, come from around the area. You pay €1 per game and you are given a number. A draw takes place, and your partner for the game is selected that way. The draw also decides who you will play against.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Saturday was my first day in Villeneuve on this trip and I'd had no time to prepare, apart from giving my boules a quick rub-down with a bit of sandpaper.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The day was one of highs and lows. The low was that on game 4, I was fannied. The game is played to 13 points - the first team to get to 13 wins the game. A fanny is when one pair beats the other by 13 points to 0. So that was the low - and a first. I have never been fannied before.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The high, and much more significant, was that I beat my arch-rival for the first time since I've been coming here - probably 15 years or so.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">The fact that she is 86 years of age has nothing to do with it. La Mamie, as she is known, is a fearsome player. She uses little effort but always seems to get close to the cochonet. Anyway, on Saturday I beat her.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">As I said, petanque is not a matter of life and death, it's much more important than that.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;">Once I've worked out how to do this bloggy stuff, I'll post a photograph.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div>le jardinier écossaishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12868625990030227413noreply@blogger.com7