Blazing sunshine now at 8pm, but we have had one of our tremendous Ardèche thunder storms. Tropical intensity rain, lots of lightning and thunder, and all the little blue tits where whirring about the trees racing to escape the worst. I had hunkered down – all appliances off, all windows open and marvelling at the show. Fortunately it has cleared up enough for me to plant up the three pots of thyme we bought from the garden centre, and place string markers over the rows of seeds I have planted. With all this rain almost all trace of the rows had been obliterated. So now it’s time to settle down to tidying this desk, resizing the digital pictures, and maybe, just maybe, starting a garden plan.  The colour combination for the border beside the house needs to be green and a dark red. That way it won’t clash with the green of the mulberry tree and the incongruous red of the rose bush. But then the roof tiles it will abut are orange. Oh dear. Did I even mention the visit to the garden centre? It wasn’t the way it should have been. A rush and dash and I was whimpering with desire to slow down and linger over the gorgeous plants. I did manage to scoop up the chard and the salad and the thyme. Plus lots of seeds. But I really wanted to get some purple sage – not to be. None in stock. I may need to search better, or just bring things over from

London.Monday garden chores – added rich, rich compost to the barn border. And even started on the future asparagus and raspberry beds at the top potager. Before the heat and the humidity defeated me. The compost is that which has been mouldering under a bed of straw for what seems like years up at the top potager. And it’s as rich as chocolate cake. If I can persuade Tony to do some more heavy digging, I would love to add lots to both top and bottom potagers. It is in the wrong spot right now it would be great to get the old structure dismantled. There is also a wealth of chicken compost to get out the coop. But that’s a ghastly job. All dust and gasping and yech.  Actually I got a bit scared about the amount of work today. The terraces above the pool are in a very sorry state. And I just can’t see how we are going to easily stabilise them. Let alone make them attractive. We received the quote for the landscaping today. It’s more expensive than the pool itself. But the quote is the most ambitious and M. Vivion included all elements so we can pick and choose. We may back out and choose M. Pontgerard instead. He comes on Saturday morning at 9 to discuss. I know we have house guests then, but we have to forge ahead with these appointments. I’m just so grateful that anyone will come in August. Watered my little rows, pruned the rose bush as much as I dare. It really needs a good sort out and that will have to wait until autumn. It really is confounding me by producing so many buds. That’s what deadheading will do I suppose.

No time, no time. I want to linger long about my first crops and planting. But instead I must cook the onions that Nicolas gave us. But here is the list of the first rows. One row of Swiss chard, one row of lettuce, one row of radish and one row of mâche. I couldn’t resist after seeing Nicolas’s potager. I haven’t consulted him, nor my lunar calendar, nor made a plan, nor drawn up a list of preferred varieties. It was just into the big garden centre Gamm Vert with David, buy the things bring em home and get em in the ground. Visit from Madame Reinhart half way through with two of her little children slowed me down, and I will have to wait until tomorrow to plant the creeping thyme down the paths. But something is in. Now back to chores.

Incredibly cold for summer – no more than about 13 degrees. But we have passed the morning instructively. First it was a visit around our property with tasks for Tony for the next three or so days. And even as I type I can hear the distant boing of the heavy metal poles that surrounded the chicken shed being removed. And then at ten we went over to the Chateau Haut Villard to see Nicolas, pay him for yesterday’s work, and visit his veggie plot. What a potager. Over 400 metres of lovely space, all devoted to veg and flowers. I took pictures, got ideas for a cold frame which I will need. And had a lovely visit. And we came away with giant onions (did well in this poor wet weather) and a black radish. His tomatoes are all on chestnut poles. Something we should do. And I have lots of ideas for what crops grow well. 

We came back and stalked all over our own property – the lower terraces are really something now that we can see them. No more brambles, and Nicolas has left lots of little hellebore plants and a few Spanish broom to grow. And there may eventually be a carpet of thyme down near the ferns and trees.  And we will be able to harvest our chestnuts more easily in the autumn now that the land is clear underneath. And I must go back to that apple tree down the lower terrace in a month’s time. Should be productive. 

Enough writing. Time for lunch and then out to our garden. Digging at last. Done. I’ve dug my first border. Full of stones and old nettles, but quite good soil really. And with the big rocks that I disinterred – well they have gone to the future wall in the potager. After that I dug over the place where the artichokes will go. They may be the first plantings. Except that I saw Nicolas has a row of winter carrots in. Perhaps I can do the same.  

Tony has finished a long ten hour day at the coal face. Well in this instance the fencing face. He has taken down the complicated fencing around the chicken shed. And even removed the rooster house a few feet away. A mini version of the chicken shed. He actually got his chain saw and just cut it in half. I hope Bernard doesn’t see. There was quite good wood in that little shed. But once it is out of sight I won’t care. And so exciting to see so much land now that it has all come down. Tomorrow he will probably do another ten hour day – dismantling the old compost, strimming around behind the pool shed and up the top. And generally making our rather rustic farm into a neat and tidy place to work and play.  And he is bringing us pots of honey. Hurrah. 

Five quince trees! What a discovery. They were there all the time lurking above the slope near the house. And I never knew. But now they are ripening like mad and I’m in heaven. Long consultation day with Nicolas who is strimming the terraces. He will definitely be in charge from now on as he is trying to manage the plants rather than just erasing them. Spanish broom, verbascums and lots of ferns. Heaps of vinca alas, the periwinkle. But it covers just two of the terraces, and it is rather a good ground cover and when it invades too much we will sort it out. And the two rosehips bushes that Nicolas found are not going to stay. They will take over in no time. And as we don’t spend a lot of time on the terraces below the house I can see how they can get out of hand. 

I have plans for a new compost box across from the top potager. As soon as Nicolas prunes the chestnut tree that is way out of control up at the top. And I will use the old compost in the big bin and spread it on the first flower garden we are planning. It needs work. No, not five but 11 quince trees. Even better. And we walked the lower terraces today (ten of them I think) and found another apple tree. Quite a big tree and some of the fruit looked promising. Well, under ripe and tart, but at least it has potential. I must really count all the trees and draw up a chart of the trees there. More elderflower trees than anyone would want. But I have about 10 kgs of the fruit in the freezer awaiting my attention. 

I had a kitchen disaster today, only saved by David’s great skills.. I had infused a kilo of mint for a day, and added a kilo of sugar to the syrup (strained), cooked it on low heat for an hour. And just as I had sterilised the bottles and was poised to pour it in…. I placed the hot pot on a bench in the kitchen. And the bench collapsed and the entire pot of sugar mint syrup exploded all over the floor, oven bin and walls of the kitchen. Disaster.  A glass broke at the same time so I had the unenviable task of not only cleaning it up, but watching out for broken glass all over the floor at the same time. Grrrr. I had to even go outside for a walk to recover from my crossness and disappointment. What a waste. and it’s about to become a wasp magnet as I’m sure I didn’t get all the sugar syrup up off the floor. But luckily David’s great lab skills came to the rescue. With heaps of water, paper towels and patience he managed to get all the syrup off the floor before the wasps were aware.Wild boar aren’t stupid –they snuffled up the ripe white mulberries, but haven’t been seen since. And now I know. The second ripening of the fruit hasn’t occurred. What’s the bet that in about two weeks time when the fruit is ripe we will see them again. Rain. Not fair. I have so many plans today. I’m starting the first flower bed. It’s on the track up from the house towards the top potager. I need to collect all the rubble that has lurked there for years (with the help of Tony the beekeeper), dig over the soil. And then add the compost from the top to the area and let it sit over the winter. The top compost bin has been there for over thirty years (I saw an old picture left by the Reinhardts) and it looks it. Manky is polite. So if Tony brings his hefty muscles, he can dismantle it and we can get that top part of the property looking less scruffy. I also want to do something brave if David thinks it a good idea. Take over the chicken shed. But I need to see if it is high enough to be able to stand in. The shed is on a slope. But to do that it will mean digging down through all that chicken manure and see if it is a possible shed for use. It will need to be well sorted. There is fencing, chicken wire and all sorts of mess about. But if we can do it  – I would love it for my potting shed. It sits in an amazing position overlooking the pool and would be perfectly situated between the upper and the lower potager. And it has windows. Naturally it will need to be well aired over the winter to try and kill all the lurking beasties and smell. It’s amazing how few flies we now have in the lower barn since the rabbits have gone. I was worried we were going to be plagued for months by the flies. But no.  

Oh happy sound. Tony attacking the brambles on the lower terrace above the vines. The landscape gardener arrives today. And Tony and I have the day to sort out the lower potager. We need to move stones and get the soil that is in the corner onto the rest of the garden. At least it is overcast and grey. Far better to dig in gloom than the blazing sun. I have started to learn the rhythm of the crops. Cherries are over by July. Figs offer their first crop at the end of July, the second crop in September. The blackcurrants are over by the beginning of the month but the jostaberries are just holding on. The plums are so few that it’s hard to tell when they ripen. And the peaches are a long way off – I keep banging my head on three unripe ones when I go into the cellar to turn on the tap. 

Nicolas gave me more little pots this morning and I have spent a happy afternoon potting up about 160 strawberry plants and their runners, and watering in 38 lettuce plants that I put up at the top potager. Most of them will probably bolt, but I can’t throw away good small plants.  Nicolas has completed the creation of the lower potager. What a Herculean task in the heat. And all by hand and mattock and spade. And he has even found the time to tackle our overgrown vineyard. Well, assemblage of vines would be kinder.  And by next week the two of them will finally lick this land into shape. Tony is to remove the fence posts and mess. Nicolas to prune out (euphemism for cut down) – the forsythia in the way of the orchard. And the non fruiting quince. And to strim all the lower  terraces. 

Tonight I stripped about two kilos worth of elderberries off the trees on the lower terraces. But as I don’t have scales or a decent recipe to make elderberry syrup, they are in the freezer awaiting developments. And I have a new compost bin, courtesy of Bernard. It is a work of art. 

There is a woodpecker on the telegraph pole below the house; it woke up our house guests Paul and Alice this morning and they have been studying it through binoculars.  And best of all, Nicolas has built a small stone wall at the lower potager to create a little terrace support of for the future flower bed and the strawberries. Goodness only knows how he managed to do it. We only left for three hours to go climbing, came back and found it done. He thought it would be a good place for the strawberries to go as they don’t really thrive in broad sunshine.  We had rain last night and Nicolas came over in the afternoon fretting that his wonderful potager had been washed away.

Alice was able to placate him that his fears were unfounded. I wasn’t here. I had taken myself off for a walk to the bulldozer man Monsieur  Brun’s house. No point posting him a letter, it was only a three kilometre walk down the hill. And three kilometres back. But it was a lovely damp walk. I took in all the flowers and trees by the roadside (wincing at the state of the land we own below the bridge which hasn’t seen a strimmer in years). I looked carefully at everyone’s gardens. Well, there are only about six houses on this hill, but it was interesting. And up to M. Brun’s place. You could tell it was his house as there were bulldozers parked in the garden. Three large apple trees were in the hedging below his property and I picked one and munched happily on my way back.

 And to keep myself occupied on the uphill bit, I picked the white umbellifae family flowers that bloom beside the road. If I was ignorant I would call it Queen Anne’s Lace. Lovely and dramatic armful that I collected went into the big green vase we have here at the house. And I even managed to fill another vase with the small plants to go at the entrance way. Earlier we had a busy day – pulling out fence posts and cutting the wire away from the tangles of brambles and nettles. Almost all the fencing is down and folded and hidden behind the lower shed. And we have a huge armoury of posts. For drying and then burning. 

And then even though tired, we all walked up into the forest above the house. Taking the secateurs with me, I snipped and chopped through the undergrowth. And what a lovely walk. We didn’t make the summit – turned back about fifteen minutes up. But we have great plans to clear the path a bit and make it a good mountain walk.  Optimistically I packed a plastic bag to store all the mushrooms we may find. But I didn’t find a thing. So instead filled the bags with elderflower berries to be used in syrup when I get around to it. I was cutting the brambles on the upper terrace – such a consuming occupation – when Bernard and Florent turned up with more wood for the compost bins. So it was down tools and cool drinks on the terrace and catching up. Bernard is going on holidays from mid August to mid September. I’m going to miss him. And his skills. I would love him to make another fantastic bin at the top potager. And build the shelves in the kitchen. I think they would cost a similar price than having to slog to Ikea and buy them. And I bet we can get Bernard to be more creative with the space.  But that will be September work. 

Now we are off to St Michel de Chabrillanoux for a pizza. A reward for a heavy day’s digging and slaving over loads of fencing. 

First steps.  I’m going to pot up strawberry plants. Bought the pots yesterday and I am raring to go. 20 strawberries done. It all looks a bit odd – a scrabby strawberry patch and black pots everywhere attached to runners. But When Nicolas comes on Friday (at 9am to start work) I will have enough for him to rotovate away at the rest of the potager. Cleared away the weeds next to the house in what I hope will be the future herb garden and artichokery. I noticed that there is mint all over the place already. It’s funny but the plants look very much like young nettles. So I donned gloves and a wary stance and starting cutting into it. And the most gorgeous spearminty smell wafted up from the plants. So that’s lovely. Mightily invasive, but I’d rather have mint than nettles any day.