the other side of eden

Careful Tiger......!

2012-01-01T12:27:00.008+01:00

It's New Years day and winter jasmine, daffodils and roses are flowering in the garden at Orchard Gites!
The unseasonally mild weather has the wild life confused too.... not only are the red squirrels out and about but there was a sighting of the rare Normandy tiger in the potager a few days ago. Usually shy and timid, mid-winter hunger has forced this hungry creature out from his lair to forage for sustenance. Sadly not very good timing as it is now hunting season in this neck of the woods and spit-roast tiger would be a welcome addition to any huntsman's table.

Fungus Foray

2011-09-20T12:07:00.029+02:00

If you go down to the woods today...

be sure of a big surprise...........you might find some tasty treats...In the gloom of the forest we bumped into.........
a frenchman with a basket full of.......... little mushrooms like this .............

which he said were very tasty (hmmm. Those little one's look like toadstools to me!).
Nevertheless, it narrowed down the search a bit as we had been picking anything that looked plump and juicy. (We were consulting our mushroom guide book I hasten to add!)

Of course, looks can be deceiving so .................

The pharmacist confirmed what the frenchman in the woods had told us...... that the common chanterelles and the larger girondelles were really good to eat. In fact I think we could have sold them to several of the customers in the shop who were keen to know where we had found them! Sadly, we were told that we couldn't eat these..........They all looked pretty good to me, but in amongst them was a poisonous boletus, which because it had been in the basket with the others, may have tainted them so we were told to throw them ALL away!
The moral of this tale of course is, 'Never put all your mushrooms in one basket'!

Krispy Kreme comes to Normandy

2011-09-11T21:45:00.007+02:00

Fortunately my neighbour passes by a Krispy Kreme shop on his way to catch the ferry from Portsmouth to Le Havre.

We are all standing by the gate waiting for him when his car makes that final turn along the windy lane to La Foucaudiere!

Julia has the coffee pot on and the girls have the plates on the table in a flash....

Which one's your favourite?

Bed and Breakfast for horses!

2011-08-31T23:24:00.009+02:00

On Monday our first equine guests came to stay. Three lovely horses spent the night in the orchard - not only did they trim the grass but they kindly left some manure for the vegetable plot. A whole barrowful - thank you horses!

French Apricot Jam

2011-07-12T10:18:00.007+02:00

Sometimes it's worth paying a little bit more to get just what you want. This year's batch of apricot jam has turned out just right thanks to the special sugar I used, rather than my usual more frugal option of ordinary granulated sugar. I followed the recipe on the bag and the result is deliciously fruity.

Apricot Jam Recipe
950 grams of washed and quatered apricots
1kg of Jam Sugar (I used the French brand of 'Teva' sugar but any similar sugar which has added pectin will be fine)
several apricot kernels. The skins can be removed by blanching in hot water

1. Mix the fruit with the sugar and leave to stand until the sugar has dissolved. I left it overnight.
2. Pour the fruit and syrup into a large pan and bring to the boil, stirring to prevent the syrup burning.
3. Boil for 7 minutes. Count the time from when the jam is properly boiling. Stir whilst the jam boils but beware as the hot sugar syrup can splash out !
4. Skim off the foam and pot into sterilised jars.

Strawberry Bowl

2011-06-05T16:05:00.009+02:00

Whenever I visit my neighbour Julia there are pretty trinkets to admire. This luscious little bowl was glinting enticingly on the kitchen table the other day. Perfectly capturing the sparkling June sunshine and the bumbling of the bees in the strawberry patch outside.
Tempted?? See more of Julia's beautiful work in her Etsy shop - it is guaranteed to bring out the magpie in you...

Jewellery from the Heart of the Normandy countryside

2011-05-05T22:57:00.010+02:00

Discover
Julia Quinn's lovely jewellery at her online Etsy shop

Left a bit, right a bit...

2011-04-27T22:55:00.003+02:00

Early Bird

2011-04-20T08:05:00.007+02:00

Easter came a week early to La Foucaudiere this year. On Sunday my neighbours' daughter Libby, appeared on the doorstep with a lovely chocolate chicken for me!! "We have just been into Tinchebray and have got you this....HAPPY EASTER!! And we have just had an Easter Egg Hunt !"
Well, I have been bit a confused this year too, as Easter is so late in April, but I was was sure that Libby was a week early with her choccy offering. Never mind - it's never a bad thing to have the chance to celebrate Easter twice.
Meanwhile the sun is shining and all the apple blossom is out and the Normandy countryside is looking it's best. Fudge was feeling the heat yesterday and had to have her winter coat trimmed so she now looks super sleek and summery!

Fledgling Hours

2010-01-01T13:18:00.007+01:00

Pamela Terry's beautiful writing From the House of Edward never fails to inspire. Each of her posts is a delight and today's is no exception. In her description of the passing of the old year and the coming in of the new, she writes of 'a fledgling congregation of hours'.....'every one a sparkling second chance.' Pamela's words seemed so apt this morning when I went out for an early walk. The air was cold and still, the countryside was hushed. A heron flapped slowly along the valley and we disturbed a huge buzzard, which rose up to take shelter in the nearby copse of trees. As we made our way along the lane the sun crept over the horizon, tinting the clouds with an orange glow. Within a few minutes the sun was up and the colours had fled leaving the 'unwritten' new day, new year and new decade stretching out ahead.
Magical moments but now it's back to reality and I am getting 'Le Pressoir' (one of the gites)ready for it's next occupants who are due to arrive tomorrow. Mr Lemur and family are moving over here permanently and will be staying in the gite for a little while until their house is ready, so this is really an exciting new year for them. You can follow their progress on his blog, and for a different perspective look at what Cheeky Lemur has to say!
So.... I must get back to work!!
A Happy New Year to all visitors to the other side of Eden

Just the outfit

2009-12-28T10:04:00.004+01:00

Fortunately I have now kitted myself out for the winter weather and having purchased a few pretty ponies I am ready to rescue anyone from the deepest of snow drifts. Thanks as ever to Dustjacket Attic who is always ready with suitable style advice. How lucky it was that photographer Solve Sundsbo was passing and happened to spot me trudging down the hill - obviously he just couldn't resist taking a snap. He certainly knows how to give a girl a touch of class!

Desperate guests attempt to leave Normandy Gites

2009-12-27T11:21:00.007+01:00

The snow fall just before Christmas made access to the gites just a little bit tricky. The normally picturesquely winding lane that leads to our hamlet became almost immediately impassable much to the horror of my captive guests, Dave and Lynn. Finding themselves potentially stranded for an indeterminable period with inadequate food supplies was not quite the Christmas they had planned. Dave kept asking whether I had a turkey, imagining no doubt that I had a larder stuffed to overflowing with hearty treats. I didn't like to disillusion him but Fudge and I do survive on fairly meagre rations...no bulging store cupboard or jam-packed freezer.

The romance of the peasant life-style held no allure for Lynn who kept pointing out that she had to go home for a PARTY!! A party? As it turned out a rescue party materialised in the form of the Mairie and his deputy driving a big green tractor with monster, snow-crunching wheels. Dave and Lynn had their bags in the boot of the car and were hooked up to the tractor and ....they were away with scarcely a backward glance!

Fudge, who had been rather anxious about the whole situation, breathed a sigh of relief!

Yay!!! It's Christmas!

2009-12-25T11:29:00.001+01:00

Snowdog

2009-12-22T13:12:00.000+01:00

Calendar Boys

2009-12-13T13:30:00.005+01:00

'It is traditional', I was told when I first arrived in Normandy 'for the local firemen to come round to your house at Christmas to give you a calendar in exchange for a small donation.' Great!! Having a penchant for fireman this was an occasion I anticipated eagerly even though I would have to wait for 8 months for their arrival on my doorstep. Disappointingly, when the day duly arrived only one fireman turned up and he had his son in tow! Damn!! Never mind, I paid up and was given my calendar. Oh NO! Further disappointment. They were all pictured fully clothed and running around with bits of fireman paraphenalia demonstrating noble, firemanly acts. There was even a photo of one of them getting married. Like I cared!

So yesterday I was quite thrilled to go to Laval Christmas market and bump into the lads of the local Rugby club ....selling calendars. My first thought after a cursory glance was 'hmmm...no thank you,' but a closer inspection revealed that each page was illustrated with photos of these lovely boys as nature intended, their modesty intact due, as you will no doubt have guessed, to the discreet positioning the odd rugby ball.
So thank you boys - that 90 minute drive to Laval was well worth the effort!

Photo from the 2010 calendar of the Rugby Club Lavallois. Visit their website here

lost for words

2009-12-02T15:24:00.008+01:00

Two weeks ago I had to miss Drama lessons. The following week, having had a break, my nerve failed me and and I decided to skip another session. This week I resolutely set of in the dark (the class starts at 8.45 pm - more like cocoa-time than going-out time!) and arrived as other members of la troupe were also piling into the hall.

I quite like the obligatory kissing routine with everyone, they always seem genuinely pleased to see me, " Bonsoir Alison! Ca va?"... Kiss, Kiss.... x 15 ! They then stand around chatting and this is where I am really acting, pretending to understand the social banter ...already the post-kissing glow is wearing off a bit.

Straight up onto the stage...and into the sheep routine...as we are walking around we are told to mutter to ourselves absently...I am good at this having had lots of practice at home. We are then told to look at objects on the stage and to name them in an imaginary language. Then the teacher tells us that one of us is to be the professeur and we have to teach the rest of the class a proverb in our new language. We walk round and Sylvie steps up to take the class. She is so very convincing as she babbles away at us and we gradually grasp what she is going on about. It is quite hilarious and I remember that there is a fun side to these sessions. The exercise is amazing as it is really like having to understand a totally foreign language. It is exactly what I experience every time I come here!

Unfortunately, I cannot bring myself to be the teacher - there is no way I can do it.

a. At first I can't think of any proverbs
b. Then I think of 'a stitch in time..etc' but will the others understand it?
c. Finally, I am so panic stricken at the thought that I might have to do it that I can't even remember any of the made-up words that I might use - my brain is in total lock down!

Why do I subject myself to this torment .... just for a bit of kissing? There is sometimes a bonus in that someone bakes a cake that we all share and yesterday Katerine made some very nice cookies. By the end of it all however I am feeling fairly stupid and when I am in the car I desperately try to run through the exercise to myself. Loudly, I instruct an imaginary class but find that even in the privacy of my own 'voiture' it's hard to do. Have I a shortage of brain cells? Where did I lose them? I wonder how I will ever memorize any of the script if I ever make as far as putting on the 'spectacle'...............

Drama in the dark

2009-10-29T19:49:00.015+01:00

Last Saturday afternoon I went off gallivanting!! Whizzing around the countryside in a friend's open topped car with not a care in the world! I stayed for tea and then watched Strictly Come Dancing in front of the cozy log stove. Then it was Casualty - then it was ...oh no! ...11 o'clock and poor Fudgie (also gallivanting) needed to get home for her beauty sleep....

Stepping outside, I looked up at the dark night sky and saw, scudding between the clouds, strange dancing lights. That, said my friend, is the Aurora Borealis! Wow! (Umm...in Northern France...well why not?) We jumped in the car and set off again with the roof down in order to marvel at the this phenomenon!!

Err....'I hate to disillusion you,' I said 'but I can see beams of light pointing up into the sky. It's not a geographically challenged Aurora Borealis we are looking at but something decidedly terrestrial.'

'Lets find out where it's coming from!!'

Well, why not? Another half hour wouldn't make much difference to anyone. 'Let's find the lights!' Nipping along the dark Normandy lanes, taking wrong turns into farmyards, the lights were tantalizingly always just around the next bend. Eventually, the source was revealed to be ... a disco!! The spiralling beam luring the wild young things of Vire to a night of revelry. We decided that we were the wrong side of ....midnight and it was time to go home.

Approaching the house I was perplexed to see more unusual lights - this time streaming from all the windows. Swinging up the drove to be met by a grim-faced committee clutching torches, I struggled to make sense of it all - what was going on?

'Are you alright?' some-one asked. I was fine, I assured them. 'Your friend here was worried about you'.

My friend? My friend! Arghhhhhhhhhhh! My friend Stephen, who had driven all the way from Canterbury emerged from the shadows. I had got the date wrong - I thought he was coming on Sunday! Arghhhhhhhhhh! Shame! Horror! Unworthiness!

Weary from his long journey he had arrived earlier in the evening and had found the door unlocked but nobody home. The house was in darkness, the dog wasn't there, my mobile phone was on the table, my purse was in the kitchen. He went round to the guests staying in the gite. They hadn't seen me since the previous evening when I had seemed perfectly happy, not acting strangely, not depressed. So....where the hell was I they wondered!

They called on the french neighbour and woke up the English couple in the village. A search party was forming itself. Madame Smith was most definitely in a ditch with Fudge keeping watch. They patrolled the lanes calling my name but in vain. Regrouping back at the house there was only one thing to do ...call the gendarmes!

Thank God we hadn't succumbed to reliving our youth in a dubious disco!

Thank God we decided that it was really getting rather late.

Half an hour longer perhaps and there would have been more lights. Police searchlights scouring the hedgerows around the sleepy hamlet of La Foucaudiere!

So now it's the time in the story for apologies and also thanks to those kind people who showed their concern! I am just a bit worried that next time, when I really fall down a rabbit hole, they will think, 'Well she does like to gad about. I don't think we really need worry.'

What vampires eat for breakfast

2009-10-21T23:30:00.015+02:00

'My God!' you might think. 'This is surely taking method acting a bit too far!' (see previous post)

Mmmmm...delicious....
This is the most amazing jam I have ever made.

'But what about the poor victim?'
None other than this unremarkable..........

...........Peach, which when it is cut open reveals an unusually red-tinged flesh.

All summer long these peaches have remained resolutely unripe and then suddenly a couple of weeks ago, after we had some rain, they started to plump up and fall from the tree. The resulting jam is an incredible ruby red colour with a distinctly peachy flavour.

Now, I must stop playing with the kitchen knife and get back in my coffin.

Before I go I will pass on this award, which I was delighted to receive earlier this week.

So Cheeky Lemur this is for you!

Stage-struck

2009-10-14T01:11:00.007+02:00

Three weeks ago I joined a local Drama Group and I am hoping that perseverance will pay off and I will eventually understand what we are supposed to be doing. So far there have been moments of embarrassment (week 1), worse embarrassment (week 2) and some laughs (week 3) but hopefully I am over the worst and things will get better. I have a reasonable command of French and can burble away using my tried and tested phrases but I get a bit lost when the conversation takes an unexpected twist or turn. So these sessions are quite a challenge.

We start by walking around the room using all the space - we speed up, change direction...I have discovered that I would make a good sheep. Once we had to make as much noise as we could - this was quite liberating, in fact sometimes it is a bit like group therapy. Often I don't understand the instructions and the change of activity is very subtle and I can't work out what they are doing differently so I keep plodding on around the room - this can go on for 10 -15 minutes but presumably this is the groundwork that will eventually bear fruit! Then comes the really difficult stuff - improvisation. This would be hard enough in English but in French .....it is practically impossible. I am determined however, to fulfil my childhood ambition and make it up there onto the stage!

The most fun has been the Vampire game. We started off walking around the room, then we had to close our eyes and continue moving without bumping into each other. Someone was chosen to be the vampire and it was their job to catch others and make them vampires. I'm sure we were only supposed to make blood-curdling vampire noises when we caught some-one but somehow we seemed to screeching and wailing all the time. Combined with the shrieks of the victims the noise in the hall was unearthly. With my eyes closed I quite forgot that I was, by day, a genteel landlady - I had entered a demonic realm. Sightless and wailing I careered off down the hall and had to be retrieved by the drama teacher. At great risk to himself I must add, as I yelled 'Je suis une vampire' in full, jugular-searching mode! The shock of opening my eyes at the end of the game was quite amazing...'What had I been doing?'

A date has been fixed in mid May for the staging of a 'spectacle' so we are currently looking at scripts but nothing has yet been chosen. The stage is in a huge hall so I was wondering how many people would be expected to come along to watch this key cultural event. 'Well,' I was told by one of the group,'last year, on one night, we had 60 people. Then the next night....16!!' I think an audience of 16 is more likely to be more intimidated by us than we need feel by them so maybe it won't be too daunting an experience!

La vie d'amour de Caramel

2009-10-11T12:35:00.019+02:00

Meet Bill, who has always claimed to have a place in his heart for his 'petit Caramel' (Caramel being,.....you've guessed it, Fudge!). He introduced himself as soon as we moved in, declaring himself to be an honourable and entirely suitable companion for la chienne anglaise. What an admirable chap I thought, happy that Fudge would have the opportunity to practise her language skills. He has proved to be a trusty companion, gamely trying to understanding the complex rules of 'chase the tennis ball' and 'kill the stick'.

Indeed, Fudge's loss of innocence this Spring had nothing to do with Bill. Although there was an occasion when I allowed my watchful eye to wander and he took advantage of this lapse of attention but he took so long deciding which end to go for that I had ample time to send him packing. No, it was the work of the more astute Tim. Tim (who is in fact Bill's dad) was much more clued up. Not only was he clued up but he was also tied up which indicates, I fear, the rather wanton nature of Fudge! The fall from grace, as I have explained in the comments section of the previous post, did not result in a brood of pups but it is now that time of year again when Fudge's head is filled with fancies and even I am thinking well ....puppies might be nice!

Not wishing to be an irresponsible pet owner I am reluctant to let nature take it's course although lots of visitors have said that they would love a Fudgie offspring. The problem is that it is now winter and those potential pup purchasers have all gone home. In the summer, when puppies would no doubt be very popular (ooops - I nearly wrote poopular!) I would be tripping over little furry bundles whilst trying to serve up breakfasts and evening meals.

I suppose if Bill were just a little brighter and just got on with the job before I had a chance to intervene that would be that! I could then go and complain to my French neighbour that he had allowed his dog to stray and shift the burden of responsibility.

Bill, is after all, rather cute!

Style Guru

2009-10-07T12:06:00.007+02:00

The guests have gone and I have swapped roles from that of land-lady to land girl. Off with the pinny and on with the wellies. With no-one around I just put on whatever comes to hand in the mornings - that time-less layered look...old tops and jeans, Lumberjack style fleecy shirt (save me from myself!) odd socks and if the weather demands wooly hat, holey gloves, shapeless coat. The fetching result is not far off that pictured above. Yes I could almost be mistaken for Miss Stevens, a lady known to me when I was a young thing with agricultural aspirations (I used to help with the milking on her farm).

That practical dress sense obviously made an impression on me but a timely posting on Dustjacket Attic's stylish blog has served to put me on the right path. Yes this is the look I should obviously be aiming for.

Sorry Fudge - you need to go too! An elegant cat is definitely the more classy accessory.

Photo showing the right way to dress for the garden by Troyt Coburn for Vogue Australia, March '09
Photo of Miss Stevens by Nick Spurling

Where's the grit?

2009-10-02T23:37:00.015+02:00

A new visitor to The Other Side of Eden has commented that the blog lacks grit! So here is the missing grit incorporated into a series of sculptural ceramic pieces created by Stephanie Gorman. Chicken grit, glass, salt and black clay are embedded into each piece before firing, resulting in a beautiful, textured suface.

I am missing the point of course and what my visitor would really like to find here is the unexpurgated description of life in the rural idyll. Alas I must err on the side of tact rather than texture and although I often feel that here at Foucauderie Towers I am playing the part of Basil Fawlty and Manuel all rolled into one, I aspire to remain as calm and gracious as Sybil and as capable as Polly.

Of course there will always be the rare occasion when that corpse pops out of the cubboard.....so continue to watch this space for the odd, gritty tale.

I must go down to the sea again...

2009-09-29T12:39:00.012+02:00

The gites at La Foucaudiere are only an hour from the nearest stretch of coast and the drive is a delight - a long straight road with rarely too much traffic and just when you start to think 'where's the sea?' ....you arrive. For most of my life a vist to the beach has always been an arduous undertaking - never an easy day trip.

Despite it's proximity, I still seem to have spent most of the summer venturing no further than the launderette for a glimpse of rushing water and frothing foam. So when an unexpected opportunity to head off to Brittany presented itself last weekend, Fudge had her ball stowed in the boot of the car without a moments hesitation.

Although our destination was the rural hinterland of Morbihan in Brittany, I decided to travel home via the coast road. It was a perfect day - brilliant blue sky and hot September sun and we were able to dip our toes, or in Fudge's case, to dive right into the sparkling water. In contrast to the broad, sandy beaches of Lower Normandy, the Northern Brittany coastline is quite wild and rocky with jutting peninsulas and sheltered coves. The views are dramatic and the coastal towns are pretty.

As the hectic holiday season has now come to an end I will make an effort to go down to the sea more often.

Top Tips for B&B Owners. no 2: Get those guests working ( Hmmm...isnt that the same as Tip no.1?)

2009-09-23T15:47:00.012+02:00

The downside of living somewhere reminiscent of the Garden of Eden is that the place is just dripping with apples. So lovely....soooo rosy, but these apples are sadly not the sweet, tempting variety but are dry, astringent fruit destined for the cider barrell! This would be fine if I had a cider barrell of my own but as I don't, I have to pick them up and take them off to the local agricultural co-operative where they get weighed in and tipped unceremoniously onto a big heap before being taken off to make commercial cider.

Last year, as a novice at the game, I carefully sorted the fruit as I piled them into the trailer, throwing out anything slightly bruised or rotten. This year as the crop is rather meagre, I chucked everything in including marble sized apples, decidedly on-the-road-to-rotten apples and apples that have been half eaten by mice.

On a lovely sunny September day it might seem like a perfect job but after a while it loses it's appeal. Fortunately this is where those BandB guests come in.............after all it's all part of the Normandy holiday experience! So thanks go to this week's visitors who so kindly lent a hand.

The next load of fruit is due to go in on October the 7th so if you fancy a working holiday this Autumn you know where to come!

That perfect cup...

2009-09-14T13:50:00.007+02:00

Some weeks ago littlebrownpen posted a photo of a coffee cup, which made me think how nice to have just the right cup. As I now have my lovely garden seat I decided to track down some teacups so that when guests arrive at the gites I can offer them a welcome cup of tea...in the most perfect of teacups!
I was thinking along chintzy lines - to epitomise the summery, garden experience but somehow that kind of design seemed rather old hat (or old cup!) Then I came across these and knew they were the ones - a sunny apple green with distinctly contemporary overlapping flowers and foliage. Perfection.
Let's hope that the September sun keeps on shining so that the next new arrivals can sip their tea, safe in the knowledge that they have chosen to come to just the right gites!

KIt Car creates a stir at Normandy Gites

2009-09-03T20:50:00.005+02:00

There's nothing quite like a spin along the Normandy lanes in a open-top car to get the day off to a good start.

Life here can seem a bit mundane, all those sheets to be laundered and beds to be made but it's not all soap suds and housemaids knee as I discovered earlier this week. I was just adding the final touches to the evening repas when this lovely little motor swept up the drive. The great thing about this job is you just never know who is going to arrive next or just quite how they will be travelling. John and Ann's arrival was unexpectedly impressive and Fudge and I nearly tripped over each other in our haste to be first to greet them!

Naturally, I did not turn down the offer of a drive into the village after breakfast the following morning, albeit as a passenger. My ongoing list of must have items has grown a little longer and a shiny, red Kit Car suddenly seems a whole lot more desirable than a ride-on lawnmower!

On a Parisian note

2009-08-27T17:32:00.021+02:00

Reading Tina Tarnoff's posting yesterday inspired me to dig out some photo's from a trip to Paris last year. Being only a couple of hours away from the capital by train I imagined that I would be popping off to the metropolis at the drop of a beret ....but I quickly discovered that a landlady's life is not all galivanting and I didn't manage to get there until late November. Having been holed up in the rural provinces for the preceding 6 months it came as quite a shock to find the streets still buzzing with life at midnight ( and later you will probably add!) Quite a contrast to the nightlife in these parts, where it is quite difficult to establish exactly which evenings particular restaurants are open and then finding that they are mopping the floors and pulling down the shutters by 9pm.

Continuing on a Parisian theme, I came across Jonas Wunderman yesterday - a struggling writer in Paris. Sounds quite romantic to me - but I imagine he would be happy to to upgrade from 'struggling' to 'published'.

Window Shopping

A little Autumn number for Fudge perhaps?

Whereas this has definitely got my name on it.........

...as do these!

Perhaps something a little healthier

Grand Designs

2009-08-20T20:49:00.007+02:00

My neighbour here in Normandy is a man of many talents, a man of grand designs. Both he and his wife are creators of beautiful jewellery but Mr Lemur can also transform abandoned offcuts of wood into stylish garden furniture.

Pictured above is a lovely oak bench for two made by Mr Lemur a few weeks ago, which can be wheeled around to take advantage of the sunniest spots in the garden . It is currently gracing the lawn in front of the gites at La Foucaudiere and has proved irresistable to guests wanting to while away an hour or so with a good book. The mobile nature of this elegant piece of garden furniture is most advantageous, as the cider apples are starting to drop with wild abandon and a hasty change of location is sometimes called for in order to avoid an apple related injury.

Mr and Mrs Lemur's propietorial air in the photograph is no happenstance. Their pose was inspired by a portrait by an 18th Century English artist whose painting of a similarly stylish Mr and Mrs now graces the walls of The National Gallery in London. Can you name both the painting and the artist?

Truly Vintage

2009-08-15T08:57:00.000+02:00

Today there is a huge vide-grenier or attic sale being held not far from here. With over 600 stalls there are bound to be some lovely vintage treasures to be found ....and I am not there! My neighbours were up and off at the crack of dawn and I am so jealous but today is a busy day with B&B guests departing and new visitors for the gites arriving....so ...business before pleasure.

The French attic sales are quite remarkable - the stalls groan with truly vintage wares. Last year I bought a stack of magazines from the 1950's that are packed with delectable fashion illustrations as well as handy house hold tips and advice. Most intriguing are the classified ads - all those lonely hearts. I wonder how many girls from a 'famille honorable' found themselves a tall handsome man with whom to spend a 'vie heureuse.'

...Ooops! Mind that Ditch

2009-08-05T17:10:00.000+02:00

In their haste to reach this idyllic spot in the Normandy countryside, some guests simply forget to look at the directions, which tell them just how to get here. So whilst I was waiting for my 'locateurs' (eng. tenants) to arrive on Saturday evening and the phone rang with a gentleman enquiring anxiously (with scarcely a trace of his native Dutch accent) whether I spoke English. ....I thought, 'It's them, they're lost!'

I was frantically struggling to gain the upper hand with with a duvet and it's cover in preparation for the arrival of another family ( At 9pm!? ....I do tend to err on the side of being disorganised!!). Never mind ...I would soon get the Dutch contingent heading in the right direction - it would just take a few moments explanation. So...............

'OK.' I said. 'Where are you?'
'Well, we have found La Foucaudiere but we can't find you!'
La Foucaudiere is a hamlet of 4 or 5 houses so how difficult could it be I wondered (I have to admit with just a hint of irritation) whilst beating the duvet into submission with my free hand.
'Well, If you have gone past the house, you just need to come back and look for the house with the sign on the gate'
'O.K.'.....pause....'There's a problem though..'
'Oh?'
'I'm kind of stuck in ditch...just along the lane'
'*!*!*!' (said silently ), ' OK...( spoken in a calm, professional, land-lady-like tone), I'll come an help you - just hang on a minute.'

I have solved many problems in my time here in Normandy but I have not yet singlehandedly hauled a vehicle, let alone a huge and ancient dinosaur of Mercedes estate car, out of a ditch... but there is always a first time!

The rain was now torrential, but Fudge and I gamely sprinted up the road to size up the situation. Fudge, getting there first, leapt soggily through the open door on the drivers side to find out whether Dutch people throw tennis balls for dogs to catch. A young woman was sitting with a soup bowl held in her hands. Was she having a picnic I asked. No she was catching the water that was dripping through the leaky sunroof. It all just seemed ever so slightly surreal.

The day was saved, I have now to add, by the incredibly timely arrival of my indefatigable neighbour Mr Lemur. Being a man-with-a-shed he had the only tool that could save the day ..a winch!!

The slightly worrying aspect of this whole crisis was that my overriding thought was 'Why didn't I bring my camera!' so that I could photograph the predicament for the blog!! Sadly, you have to make do with the above photo, taken today of a small part of the the aforementioned vehicle.

Maybe this is the answer:

Image created at www.glassgiant.com

French Kisses? No thank You!

2009-07-14T23:54:00.000+02:00

Fudge is currently fending off the advances of Oliver, a rickety but persistant Poirot look-alike. Convinced of his charms he is intent on pursuing her around the garden at high speed in the hope of snatching a fleeting kiss or maybe more. Fudge is having none of it and has not fallen for his debonair attentions. A dalliance with an older man is not what she has in mind but she will have to put up with him panting wheezily in her ear for a little while yet as he is here for a fortnight and today is only Day 2.

Mutant Vegetables

2009-07-12T00:28:00.001+02:00

A white aubergine and ...... an aubergine pepper or a pepper shaped aubergine?

More Twittering

2009-06-30T14:10:00.000+02:00

Perhaps I've overdone the bird feeding - it's a bird invasion!! A couple of days ago there was a swift looping the loop in the livng room and William discovered this rather bemused baby bird having a rest on top of the teapot.

Who's Twitterring at La Foucaudiere

2009-06-23T18:56:00.000+02:00

Twittering is not new to the inhabitants of La Foucaudiere. Surrounded by trees and hedges it's a dream location, especially if you are a bird. From early Spring onwards the garden is full of twitterers, so when a visitor to the gites last August pointed out that she hadn't heard any birds singing at all, I was dismayed...but she was right.. there wasn't a single chirrup or tweet disturbing the calm. A bit of a let down for visitors arriving in the heart of the Normandy countryside only to find it so tranquil that not even a single bird is singing! To guarantee a constant serenade I have now taken steps to ensure that every bird in the neighbourhood knows where they can pitch up for some quality grub and once here, hopefully they will stay and not decide to to pack their bags in July and head off 'en vacances'. Luscious fat balls are tempting an array of visitors - most impressively a lesser spotted woodpecker who demolishes a single fat ball in 24 hours. The woodpecker has now taken to turning up with an offspring in tow, so all the smaller birds have to hang around until the woodpeckers have gorged themselves, before they can get a look-in. A couple of days ago a nuthatch also arrived and it too is now getting in on the action!

One of the nicest thing to see in the Spring, albeit not in my garden but along the leafy lane , was a whole family of wrens flitting between the branches of the beech trees. For such small birds they were really raucous - quite outraged that Fudge and I should stray into their territory!

Top tip for B&B owners: Get those guests working!

2009-06-20T20:14:00.002+02:00

Thank you Terry for helping with cutting the lawn!

It is obviously a good ploy to get the lawn mower out just when you hear a guest's car wending it's way along the lane! Having artfully placed comfy chairs in good view of where you plan to mow you can swing into action just as they settle down with a good book. A nice, sunny day is definitely best as you are bound to look genuinely hot and bothered. What kind hearted soul can sit there with his feet up when you puff and pant to and fro with your woefully inadequate lawnmower?

Once you have lured your guest out of his seat you can then go and hide in a secluded spot and soak up that summer sun!

Living France Magazine

2009-06-16T23:03:00.003+02:00

In the depths of midwinter I was contacted by a very nice journalist called Faith, who said that she would like to write an article about the gites and Art Holidays at La Foucaudiere. Having always had a penchant for hitting the headlines I was more than willing tell my story to the media. Now the July issue of Living France is on the shelves of newsagents far and wide and ALL is revealed. If you have not yet got your copy then rush out and buy one before they all sell out! Or click on this link

Guerrilla Gardening

2009-06-14T22:13:00.000+02:00

Guerrilla Gardening has taken on a new meaning in the potager at La Foucaudiere. Fudge is being drilled in seek and destroy tactics as together we face the enemy...rabbits!! It's all my fault as I left the garden gate open one day and in walked a rabbit in a daring daylight raid on my lovingly nurtured veggies. I had been caught unawares as there have never been rabbits in the garden before but I was not going to get caught out again - the gate was now shut and locked but too late .... once tasted, early radishes are not easily forgotten and the rabbits - mere babes, managed to squeeze through the garden fence on a regular basis. Working on the premise that it's necessary to put together a psych0logical profile of the enemy prior to working out a plan of attack, I tracked down a copy of Peter Rabbit in the local library and learned that in France he goes under the nom de guerre of Jeannot Lapin. My study of the workings of the rabbit mind resulted in a clearer understanding of the what we were up against and the answer was staring me in the face..... with a ball in her mouth. Yes.... Fudge was my only hope. At this point I must thank Rita and Nigel, two visiting experts who kindly helped with her initial training. Now a finely honed killing machine, Fudge is ready to charge of into the hedge as soon as I mutter the 'R' word. Alas until now all efforts to rid ourselves of the long eared, nose twitching, lettuce eating menace have been in vain and we have resorted to other tactics (see pic). The patent rabbit trapping device has been lent to us courtesy of our French neighbour. Never known to fail but it would seem that seem that wily Jeannot is a step ahead of the game and is determined not to set foot inside the box! Meanwhile it looks like we will have to survive on a diet onions and potatoes this year - the only things the rabbits haven't tucked into.

Spring blossom

2009-05-24T10:56:00.001+02:00

Apricot Alert

2009-04-28T22:33:00.001+02:00

The guest room for bed and breakfast visitors is called 'La Chambre des Abricots' as the window in this room , which must originaly have been a hayloft, looks out through the branches of an apricot tree. Last year, frost caught the blossom, which appears in March. This year, although we had Spring frosts some fruit has now been spotted - tiny green apricots destined eventually for the preserving pan.............. but I might only need one jam jar!

The beech trees came into leaf last week

2009-04-27T11:16:00.000+02:00

Anniversaire

2009-04-27T09:59:00.000+02:00

It's a year since Fudge and I packed our bags and relocated to the wilds of Lower Normandy. To mark our anniversary and to record both the events and non-events of life here I am finally creating a blog before I forget everything!