La glycine

Our wisteria is in full bloom, so I thought I should get some photos before the blossoms fade away. I think I just made it. I've forgotten when we planted it, but it's been a while. It grows very well where it is, a western exposure, and I have to trim it back almost every year. One day I'll try to tackle a drastic pruning, but not without doing some research fist. I don't want to kill it.

Wisteria flowers in Monday's low morning light.

The grape growers in our immediate area don't seem to be too worried about today's frost threat. There's no sign of smudge pots or anything else out there. I can hear the fans blowing in the vineyards up north of the river. They sound like helicopters in the distance, except that they never get closer or farther away. They keep the air moving around the vines to help prevent freezing air from settling in.

Ten years ago this week

Ten years ago it was 2014. Already. How is that possible? Bert the black cat was already here for four years then, comfortable in his "new" territory. There were a few more trees on the property then. That big apple on the left didn't have much time remaining when this picture was taken.

Spring was lush and green, much like this year, in April of 2014.

Ken's plum tree, the dark red tree behind Bert, was smaller than it is today, but had already grown to this size from a pit. Callie the border collie was still with us but was already seven years old. Tasha wouldn't be born for a few years yet.

Plowed

This is a curious parcel of land. I think it was bare for a while but, for the past few years, it's been plowed and planted. With what, I couldn't tell you. It looks like potato plants, but then I've never seen an actual potato around harvest time. There's no irrigation except what falls from the sky.

The parcel is plowed twice each spring. The second plowing breaks up all those big clumps.

Our outdoor thermometer reads 4ºC (about 39ºF) this morning. The central heat is on inside the house. The predicted high temperature is 10º. I still haven't lit a fire in the wood stove, but that might change.

Tails of cats

They're called cattails where I come from, bulrushes in the UK, and massettes here in France according to Wikipedia. I had to look that up. These grow in the pond outside our back gate. Their neat, fuzzy brown tops have gone to seed, as can be seen by the tan woolly tops here.

Bulrushes/cattails in the pond out back. The dark plant on the water's surface is jussie, an invasive weed.

 

We have a busy week ahead. Today is market day and I have a hankerin' for moules et frites (mussels and fries) for lunch. On Tuesday we'll attend the burial of our neighbor, Bernard. On Wednesday we're expecting a visit from CHM's two nieces who are passing through on their way to Paris. And, on Friday, Tasha goes to the vet for her annual check-up and shots. And the morning lows are expected to dip to 1ºC, that's very close to freezing, most of the week.

Le pliage

The folding. That's what they call bending the single grape vine cane that's left after pruning to the horizontal and attaching it to a guide wire. And that's what's going on in the vineyards behind our house right now. The workers bend the cane manually, then use a battery-powered hand tool to apply a "twisty tie" to hold the cane to the wire. It's the last step in preparing the vines for the growing season.

The vines have begun to leaf-out. They're really pretty this time of year.

Closer to home (in our back yard), I'm working to eliminate the last few table grape vines from the lawn. Most of them came out relatively easily (with the aid of a pick-axe), but the last three have bigger trunks and are really difficult to dislodge. I tried using my chainsaw, but the chain guide broke in the attempt. Oops. I should have tried the hand saw first.

Sunday sunrise

This was last Sunday's sunrise. The sky was filled with jet trails; a few of them are visible in this shot. They lasted longer than usual and made interesting patterns. I'm easily amused.

Fog lies low in the Cher Valley as airliners criss-cross the sky. Looking toward the north east from out in the vineyards.

As predicted, our mornings are quite chilly this week. Extra blankets are on the bed and the heat is coming on again. I haven't built a fire, yet. But if this continues... There's still a danger of frost as the morning lows start to flirt with zero. Now it's time to bundle up and walk the dog.

RIP Bernard

We got the news yesterday that our neighbor and friend, Bernard M., passed away Monday night. He was 94 years old. We met Bernard and his wife, Maryvonne, very shortly after we moved into our house, across the road from their summer place, back in 2003. They made us feel welcome and at home in the neighborhood from the start.

Bernard inspecting his property. April 2011.

Bernard took great pride in maintaining his yard. "Nickel-chrome" he called it, once the mowing was done. It wasn't summer unless Bernard was on his riding mower, keeping the place beautiful. I hope they have riding mowers wherever he's gone to. Bernard will feel right at home.

Our thoughts are with his family and Maryvonne.