Mulching

Oh there you are; thought you had forgotten all about blogging. I do apologize. Life at the moment does not follow the normal rhythms. Too much shifting about and soon – travelling to Australia.  So I warn you that the thrice weekly musings and chattings and photos might not yield French farm results.

I spent a mad week just getting the whole farm ready for being neglected for weeks on end.  Luckily I have the promise of Nicolas to come and do two days of work while we are away.

And he is going to do the vile jobs I cannot face without a cooked breakfast or a stiff drink.  The dead wisteria is to be cut down.

And the New Dawn roses severely cut back on the herb garden wall.  I can’t say he was filled with enthusiasm about that one. I heard mutterings about holes in the gauntlet bramble gloves.  But as I too have holes in my last decent pair of work gloves, I gleefully explained the reason I was shirking.  (I hope Santa has heard my pleas.  He can certainly hear my yelps of pain when the brambles find that small gap in the leather of my right hand index finger mid prune.  And if I ever find a decent pair of work gloves that are bramble proof but have enough give so that you can actually work a pair of secateurs at the same time, I’ll be buying Nicolas a pair as well.)

You know all this.  I can even see I have posted a picture of the dead wisteria recently.  Grrr.

I can’t even remember where I left off. Oh yes, with a rake in hand. I seem to be forever with a rake in hand. It has been a bumper year for leaf collecting.

Actually it always has been, but it’s only the past two years that I have actively collected them to use as a mulch for the garden beds.

The pictures refuse to upload. Are they sulking because I have been so tardy?  I had best publish this at once and add as I can.

Paul and Alice helped last month with the job.  At least the bags and bags of leaves are light.  I have endless shots of Ikea bags of them dotted all about the garden waiting for me to haul and mulch. Go on, a picture gallery of bags. How scintillating.

And technical troubles. Here is the asparagus bed the right way up.

Nicely tucked up for winter.

And now I know that the main question is not – what are you going to do about protecting the potager beds while you are away. Who on earth is going to look after The Critter?

He will be fed. He will have a fire to snooze in front of most days at Jean Daniel’s. There just won’t be much cuddling and attention. And we all have to hope that when I return mid January he will still be there to greet me and make my life so full of feline joy.

And on that note with a catch in my throat….