And it was all yellow
Life has a funny way of running away on you when you’re not ready for it! I’ve had a busy few weeks – things that went right and things that went wrong. Isn’t that the way of things?
Our car has decided it’s time to meet its maker (or rather its breaker!). We decided to pull apart our kitchen. More about that another time but let’s just say there was more work than anticipated! And … the main reason I haven’t been posting … my laptop charger started to make a funny crackling sound and with lightning speed I unplugged it from the wall as it was clear that couldn’t end well. It’s dead now too!
So, you might say a charger ain’t no big thing and you’d be right. But here in the sticks these little setbacks can become bigger ones! The nearest internet cafe is in Dijon (100 km) and to buy a charger in any of the smaller businesses isn’t always practical. They have to order it in etc. etc. Online is fine but I’m hoping to get a new laptop sometime in the not too distant future so I didn’t want to pay an arm and a leg! In the heel of the hunt the lovely man at the computer repair shop happened to have an old one knocking about! This is where I love French frugality! If something can still be used it’s never dumped.
So things have calmed down (only slightly!) and now I’m finally back at my kitchen table, happily ignoring all of the things that have been left on the long finger.
I’ve had my blinkers on for the past few weeks and I’ve been shocked to discover that Spring blooming has just happened all around me while I was looking the other way. The grass verges are looking like jungles, the goat kids have gotten bigger (and bolder!), the swallows that have their nest in our barn have come home to roost. How I’d love to hear those swallows’ tales. On rainy days they perch on top of the barn door and we can see them from our kitchen. The pair sit there looking at the rain. You could almost imagine a conversation between them – “ah do you remember the sunshine in Africa Josephine?” And she would reply “I do Joe! And do ya remember the sunsets? That was the life!”
There is an explosion of colour here. Everywhere you look there are flowers of all sorts. But the most striking of all is the Colza (rapeseed). It’s just about turning to seed now but we’ve had yellow yellow yellow everywhere for about a month now. It has a very heavy heady scent. Not unpleasant to me or some of my English friends, but my French friends hate it! Ca pue they say (it stinks!).
Around our village there is much more Colza planted than I’ve seen before. I remember a Spring evening on our holidays here, a long time ago, passing by a large field of it and wondering what on earth it was. I hadn’t ever seen it in Ireland before. Now of course it is everywhere there too.
We have done a little bit of gardening too. When I say “we” I mean mon homme! He’s the green fingered one. I try to listen and learn but generally get distracted! We’re eagerly awaiting our wildfowers but our wait has been punctuated with little surprises. The lilac tree, given to us by a friend when we we moved into our house, has been generous with blooms considering its small size. Irises are out everywhere and our lavender appears to have taken body-building steroids! It looks like it is secretly plotting to take over our garden (and then the universe!).
One of the local farmers told us to help ourselves to his manure pile. We had no trailer, so had to fill it into an enormous plastic bag we had lining the boot. It’s one of those things where you’re hoping you won’t bump into people on the way home. We picked it up on a quiet agricultural path. You hardly ever meet anyone on it. Of course that day the world and its mother were out and stopped for a chat. They didn’t chat for long with the overpowering smell emanating from the open boot!
Once we were nearly home mon homme appeared to be scanning the path for something. I asked what he was looking for. He told me that there was a little stone bench that he and his friends used to come and sit on when they were children. And then we came upon it. There it was, steadfast, under the same tree that has always shaded it. A little worn from all of the winters and bottoms that have sat on it. But still there. Things seem to move so fast sometimes, and then some things remain the same.