Interruption to service
We have wheeled in the housesitters and tomorrow we are going to Provence for a few days. It will be a ludicrously early set off. I think leaving the house at 4.15am was mentioned but I had my fingers in my ears and was going lalalala at the time so can't be sure.
There are so many things to do here. The cutting garden needs weeding and sorting and the sweetpeas, having flowered their hearts out for months, are ready to be cut down. The raised beds in the kitchen garden need clearing and composting and I am plotting new herbs, with the inspiration and encouragement of Mark Diacono's "A Taste of the Unexpected". A fraught question this one, with the question of what is right for the house and the site balanced against the lure of the new. Like Scarlett O'Hara, I shall think about it tomorrow, or even on Thursday. The kitchen is groaning with apples and our daughters have both put in pleas for more apple based jellies, particularly ones to have on toast: apple and cinnamon, apple and quince and apple and ginger are all planned, clear and glowing and full of the light of late summer.
It will all happen, or it won't and the sky won't fall, but just now we will have a few days with our friends in Provence, staying in their new house which we saw first as a virgin site full of pines and rock, and then as a half finished building, promising much but causing a lot of heartache. I can't wait to see it as a house.
I can't wait to sit and talk and catch up and wander around the markets piled high with fruit and vegetables and see what is happening in their new garden, about as different from mine as you could imagine. I hope the sun shines because Provence is made to be seen in sun but whether it does or not, a small, warm, wine and food filled interlude is about to start.
Back soon. Might even be ready for the Welsh winter.
There are so many things to do here. The cutting garden needs weeding and sorting and the sweetpeas, having flowered their hearts out for months, are ready to be cut down. The raised beds in the kitchen garden need clearing and composting and I am plotting new herbs, with the inspiration and encouragement of Mark Diacono's "A Taste of the Unexpected". A fraught question this one, with the question of what is right for the house and the site balanced against the lure of the new. Like Scarlett O'Hara, I shall think about it tomorrow, or even on Thursday. The kitchen is groaning with apples and our daughters have both put in pleas for more apple based jellies, particularly ones to have on toast: apple and cinnamon, apple and quince and apple and ginger are all planned, clear and glowing and full of the light of late summer.
It will all happen, or it won't and the sky won't fall, but just now we will have a few days with our friends in Provence, staying in their new house which we saw first as a virgin site full of pines and rock, and then as a half finished building, promising much but causing a lot of heartache. I can't wait to see it as a house.
I can't wait to sit and talk and catch up and wander around the markets piled high with fruit and vegetables and see what is happening in their new garden, about as different from mine as you could imagine. I hope the sun shines because Provence is made to be seen in sun but whether it does or not, a small, warm, wine and food filled interlude is about to start.
Back soon. Might even be ready for the Welsh winter.
Stop in on Cro and bring back a few quince! Have a lovely time.
ReplyDeleteI have quince here! Although I must admit they are a bit squinty and spotted, but nevertheless growing your own quince is not to be sneezed at. I should go to bed, 4.15 being alarmingly close!
ReplyDeleteHave a wonderful time and I hope you get sunshine and lots of it.
ReplyDeleteProvence.... sigh.... Have the most wonderful time, and eat something delicious for us.
ReplyDeleteYou'll be in Provence and I'll be in it's polar opposite (I'm sure!) - Whistler. Let's compare notes.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy!
ReplyDeleteI visited my sister when she lived in Provence. It was November but still fabulous. I hope you're having a tasty time. We're having a rare and glorious sunny Autumn day in Seattle. Bright enough to tempt me outside to cut back the 9 foot hollyhock falling over in my side yard, and harvest a bowl full of tomatoes. Enjoy your trip!
ReplyDeleteTom. I was about to say the same thing!
ReplyDeleteDo enjoy!! And bring back some photos. It sounds wonderful!!
ReplyDeleteLG
Have a wonderful time
ReplyDeleteSu
Have a wonderful time Elizabeth x
ReplyDeleteLucky you - Provencal sunshine. Re-charge those batteries the weather is certainly changing in Wales. First frost last night on lower ground. Brrr!
ReplyDeleteJealous? Jealous? Who, me? Of course not.
ReplyDeleteJust left a long comment, which Blogger ate. I can't even remember what it said, although I know that I wished you much fun, laughter (the "wet yourself" kind) and good weather for your trip to Provence.
ReplyDeleteI think that I also expressed some appreciation for your plans for your apples. I'm afraid that I've been a bit dull with my crop. Just lots of applesauce and cut-up fruit for the freezer. I have some crabapples that need to be turned into jam/jelly, though. Maybe that will be a good project for the coming week.
Have a lovely time. Lots n lots n lots of photos required please :)
ReplyDeleteEnjoy your stay in that lovely part of the world.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous time, and then you will come back ready to do all of those fun jobs in the garden and kitchen!
ReplyDeleteWishing you a wonderful, relaxing, fulfilling trip!
ReplyDeleteSoooo jealous!
ReplyDeleteHave a fantatic break!
ReplyDeleteOur weather has turned cold and foggy. NOW I'm thoroughly jealous. Looking forward to your next post.
ReplyDeleteHome again, away for only four days but it feels as if we have packed in a week's worth of great things to do! Will blog about it tomorrow!
ReplyDelete