Still spring like weather here and the water is flowing merrily at our source. Which means that the hose that feeds the troughs in the courtyard is almost overflowing. I can’t abide the waste of this precious water. (Our previous owners had sheep, so just fed the water down pipes to the water trough in a lower field). So I have been propping the watering can under the hose and catching the rather constant drip.

And this means I seem to spend the day walking over to catch the can as it spills to overflowing levels and water the rosemary plant like mad. And giving the roses a dose. I put the second climber New Dawn on the same wall as the first. This will hopefully cover the whole wall behind the artichokes in summer.

And resisted the temptation to plant it in my newly painted but forlornly empty Other Planter. I will have to buy another Gertrude Jekyll rose to join its mate. It would be too confusing to have too many roses with different scents on the same wall. And of course it means I will have to dash back to a garden centre to look for the rose. They don’t have that variety here in Valence (no surprise there, everyone has their own roses) and I may even get reckless and buy a third and try growing three roses all the way along the wall.

Hmm. Yes it seems as though I have inhaled too many paint fumes this week and have mad ideas way beyond my means. Or I’m just dying to do things I have been dreaming of for years and have suddenly Become Unleashed.

Back to watering. It’s what I did all day. Dosed up the herbs, the figs, the currants and the strawberries.

As a break from the wheelbarrow work of moving yet more soil around, I took a walk down to the vineyard, which tends to be out of sight out of mind in terms of a gardening project. Oh what on earth to do with that huge space? I went as far as borrowing a book on vineyard management from the library. But haven’t even studied it. Just photocopied, filed and moved on to something easier.

I went down there to retrieve more hoses and some wire that we saw on the weekend. Some good loot too – lots of connectors and metal bits on the hoses that we can use. And lots more lengths of the stuff. Plus a rake and a hoe. The wooden handles are a bit parched, but once they get oiled (oh when do I find the time for that?) they can stay up at the top potager. No use hauling tools from one potager to the other.

There is more to bring up – the wire and about a few hundred more feet of hosepipe. I need to get them before spring really leaps into its full rampant mode and covers up the loot for another year.

And as I came back I was in a quandary; do I weed the strawberry bed or start on the lilac and deutzia bed? And then a wicked thought came to me: I can do both. Have a day off – do nothing but gardening. The whole day. And that is exactly what I did.

The lilac bed is choked with brambles, ivy and some mystery ground cover plants. I started at one end and worked my way up. Most satisfying to pull out long strands of ivy or six feet lengths of brambles (I had my extra special bramble gloves on).

So summary of the day:
Got the last scraping of paint onto the extra rose planters; they looked hideous in daylight. And my fingers were frozen – time to warm up with hauling soil to the extra herb beds and tulip beds.

Planted lily of the valley and orchids in the rose planters. Planted bulbs under the viburnum (snowball tree) and more iris bulbs under the wisteria. Alas I seem to have developed the same bad habits – not remembering what I planted and forgetting to label things.

The big job was the rosemary bush. It came out rather easily (had I cut off all the roots?) and I whisked it up to the prepared bed. Thank god for that endless supply of good soil up at the shed. Shame it is such a trek. But my goodness it’s great exercise.

And then with all that lovely space around the rosemary bush I ripped out the twelve thyme bushes I had hastily planted down the row in the dusk last night. And then placed them around the new bed. Looks so much better. A mulch of gravel around the plants, endless watering and it looks great.

The strawberries were choking under weeds. So it was time to get into the bed and grub them out. The nettles haven’t started up yet; I seem to recall a rather lush patch at one end of the strawberries. But it can’t be long now.

I avoided the weeding of the main beds of the potager. One is full of garlic and onions, which are romping away (deer don’t like them). And one is ready to be planted up with the tomatoes and such in spring. Right now all I am doing is potting up lily bulbs into big containers and burying them in the middle of each section. Hopefully they will thrive and be useful cut flowers, not to mention a rather attractive floral feature when things take off.

Will they take off? This time of year is so odd. You think about all the amazing growth that will occur in just a few weeks time. But wish that it were only vegetables seedlings and flowers that push up – rather than the strimmer fest of weeds that are poised to burst out of the soil. I will probably have to spend a day a week with the strimmer just to keep it all in check.

After all the lilies, as a change I potted up 15 gladiolus bulbs into their pots and placed them in the vegetable garden as well. I seem to be cramming the whole garden into that small space as I haven’t worked out a design for the rest of it yet. Can’t get that done until the walls are built and they aren’t happening right now.

I stalked into lunch (brief pause to stoke the fire with more wood and wolf down some cheese). And then started onto the biggest job; covering the top of the bed near the vines with a weed poof fabric and somehow making them pretty. I don’t think I dared take photos of the mess last year.

It was just a bramble patch with a top dressing of self sown hollyhocks everywhere. Not to mention wiring all over the place. It was hideous. So it was out with the scissors and try and cut the fabric to shape around the annoyingly large rocks that sit as a decoration and weeding tool inhibitor in the middle of the bed. I had to scrape the pebbles and gravel from the main courtyard and cover like mad. It looks fine. If a bit spare – but I think it will be a thousand times better than choking with brambles and rampant hollyhocks like we found it this year.

Naturally with planters on the brain I thought I could do with another small planter and a big lemon verbena plant at the end of this bed. A sort of punctuation mark for the courtyard. But excessive is also what came to mind. Besides the lemon verbena will need protecting in the winter; I managed to kill the little one I bought in the summer. So should I put the planter on rollers and wheel it inside for the winter? It will probably weight too much and I may forget. Nothing worse that killing plants with neglect.  But it was such a lovely spring-like day it feels like a long way from another winter.

Mind you I am writing this in front of a roaring fire in the evening so winter isn’t quite over yet.

Last task of the day (apart from the extra watering of more transplanted plants) was to try and cover the bald patches in the courtyard gravel. I did have to scrabble about to get enough to cover the fabric. And as a result the main courtyard is a bit thin. Oh for a shipment of about five cubic metres of gravel.
 

Naughty, naughty, naughty. Had a bit of a session this afternoon. Thyme plants, strawberry plants, a white currant bush, sage plants. Another planter. And all of this was nothing compared to the self-control in not buying an apricot tree. I circled the section, studied the form, and looked at the ones best pruned. Yearned, ached. And eventually walked away. November is the month to get trees off to a good start here and I really must heed the advice. We had a day of Michel the tree surgeon working on some trees (i.e. cutting them down) and he is full of wonderful advice. So he was the stern voice of warning in my head as I reached in and almost bought a tree. Wouldn’t it be wonderful of have apricots in our orchard? Absolutely. But I must wait.

But the sage, strawberries and the thyme are already in the ground. More gardening at dusk. I almost had a rush of blood to the head and uprooted the monster rosemary bush; I made the bed in the first herb garden for where I want it to go. But it really is a careful daylight job. I need to prune it rather radically after I have (successfully) transplanted it. Not something I would have thought of being an eejit ignoramus. But luckily with Michel on the one side offering tree advice, Nicolas came by to talk over the wall work, and threw out this gem of knowledge as he was heading off to the doctors. Badly healing mangled digit finger is not conducive to being a productive worker.

Now if I weren’t sitting directly underneath the wisteria I wouldn’t have experienced the most amazing event. Painting shutters while hanging off a ladder is risky enough, but not without having the half foot long seed pods explode with violence and rain down in the sunshine. I’ve never seen that before; the sun and the early spring seem to have the sap rising everywhere. The long pods have left the mother tree with such force and drama. At first I had no idea what the cracking noise was – except they kept falling on me. And more explosions punctuated the rest of the afternoon. Amazing.

I now have all the planters painted. And I think I’m going to dig up those innocent looking dead mint sticks below the planter because I’m sure there are dormant mint roots just waiting to burst into life. If I dig them up, bring them indoors to some warmth; I may have some early mint for my lamb chops.

I’ve decided to move the monster rosemary bush – must consult Nicolas to see if I’m too late (some little flowers on the plant already – up to the herb garden. I need to bring yet more soil down first.

The planter pots are done. I found that the Farrow and Ball Saxon green is spookily similar to the half used pot of Farrow and Ball Sutcliffe green paint that was left over from the sale of our house in Primrose Hill. I needed a tiny bit to touch up the skirting boards in the kitchen before the house sale; and couldn’t bear to lose the rest of the paint. I stuck it out at the allotment shed and promptly forgot about it for a year. Good thing it wasn’t a hot summer, the paint would have cooked in that little shed. But I retrieved it thinking it might do for something. And lo and behold – it now features as our signature colour for the courtyard. Another sensible green.

I’m rather pleased. And think the effect of all the colour a bit more glam and a bit less utilitarian Ardeche farm.

I took the time to clean up the potting shed so it could grace a photograph. So fun to be neat and tidy. It won’t last. And we must get the floor sorted. Those old pallets that I am using as a floor were from the shed’s original incarnation – chook shed. They are going to get whiffy when it heats up.  I managed to scrounge a few from the building jobs of the roofing and the pool work. But Bernard is using them as a carpenter’s bench on the first floor of the gite at the moment. Wish I could wave my magic wand and get more projects done up there. The carpentry projects are stacking up somewhat.

We had a late afternoon walk around the property today – plotting where the new birch trees could go and generally musing on what is to be done. And we had a better look at the little spring of water in the old duck pond behind the pool. Not sure if it’s active.

We were heading down to the vineyard when we stopped talking and were confronted by our resident deer plodding in front of us. How on earth she didn’t see or hear us I can’t fathom. She comes from the forest above the house, works her way down past my vegetable garden (feeding station) and then works down the terraces and pops out onto the road and the other side.

We followed her down and found yet more loot down by the vineyard. New wire, and lots of hoses. They may be of use for the new gravity fed water supply I want for the top potager. It was almost dark so it was hard for proper scrutiny. Must get there again this week before the weeds grow and hide all this hardware in the long grass.

I planted up one of the New Dawn climbing roses I hefted over from London in my handbag. But I can’t work out where to put the second one. And you have to have the position sorted, as the planters I bought and laboriously painted weigh a ton.

I won’t be able to paint the big planter right now (a future mint prison for all the mint that self sows all over part of the courtyard), as I don’t think I will have enough paint. I started on the three doors on the east side of the property; and have one set of shutters to go.

I’m not really being very informative garden wise with all this harping about paint pots and shutters but it does mean that I had time to look at parts of the garden from the vantage point of a ladder. And I can happily say there are buds everywhere; on the cherries, on the lilac. Even on the Daphne bush. And I can see the tulip bulbs poking their points above the soil under the wisteria. Bring em on.

Gardening by dusk. I don’t think it will catch on as a sport.
Turned the compost bin (don’t ask me why) except it was energetic work and most satisfying. I love it when you have two full bins and after a month of rain, cold and compost magic you can incorporate the contents into one.

Potted up six lily bulbs and buried them in the potager. Saw lots more deer tracks all over my beds. Grrr. So it felt all the better that I built my little plastic cloche and put them over the remaining cabbage and lettuce.

I bought the cloche too for 99 p and of course curses, curses, curses I didn’t get more. And Nicolas felt the same. Prices in London are so much cheaper than here – if you are prepared to trek out to the cheapo shop and rummage.

Nicolas came by today to work out a proper quote for the wall work over the next few months. Poor man has had three weeks of enforced rest owing to almost chopping his finger off with a hatchet in the forest at the end of the year. He will be here next week, but will be steering clear of anything sharp.

I spent the day as expected perched on windowsills - results are fine. The shutters just look normal now. And then this afternoon I had the lovely distraction of Bernard arriving to build my potting shed roof. In only thee hours he has put up the roof. Well, a bit more tinkering and extra bits of roofing still to go, but it’s a delight. I’m going to have a combination of potting shed, cold frame and poly tunnel once its done. Bliss.

Right, enough note taking and taking stock. Time to bleed the radiators, they are all chirping merrily. I managed to ignore them most of the day, as it was too glorious and sunny outside to want to stand by a radiator or six and bleed them.

Buds on the cherry trees. It’s only January and things look spring like here. Back after a short break in London buying Farrow and Ball paint and other frivolous necessities. I spent the day painting shutters so I only had a visceral experience of the garden. Apart from adding bark chips to the path. I ran out earlier in the month, so brought back two more mighty bags from the shop. I think the colour is a bit bright but at least the weed issue may abate.

Painting the planters for the rose bushes is the closest I have to helping the plant world at the moment.

My suitcase was groaning with lots of bulbs this trip. There is an Aladdin’s cave of a cheap store in Camden called the 99p store and I find it is a haven for cheap garden bulbs and equipment. Annoyingly you never know what is in stock; and if you find any treasure it is gone the next day. But  just before I left I came away with an amazing haul of plants all for 99 pence a packet. Bargains galore. Except of course I bought way more than I probably need. But this is a big garden (I justify to myself) so here is the embarrassingly confessional list:

Mont Blanc lilies x 6
Liatris Spicata  x 12
Echinacea purpurera  x 8
More alliums drumstricks x 12

Lot of white flowers for the wisteria garden
Acidanthera peacock orchids
Lily of the valley x 9
Brodiaea white  x 20
Mero star x 6

White collection bulbs
30 iris white excelsior
24 gladioli white prosperity
2 dahlia snowflake
24 anenome the bride

And then there were the free bulbs from the Camden garden centre
20 white narcissi spring dawn  - not sure where to put them.

Then I had a thought about where on earth to put all these perennials – the colour. Not sure about the brave step. So I thought it might be an idea to plant up a mini meadow of these colourful perennials up near the potting shed. Mini drifts. That way I can see what they are like: especially for the purple loosestrife lythrum salicaria

For the vegetable garden I brought over land cress (which works well in London and I hope that it will be too sharp and peppery for the deer that stalks my garden
And when the roof goes onto the potting shed

Asparagus pea
Beans purple king
Sweet corn
Greyhound cabbage

Such bounty. Shame I have a day of more painting of shutters and no time to get into the garden until tomorrow.

Rain at last. Something everyone in the region has been hoping for. Maybe the water situation will improve. Yesterday we spent a good morning clearing out our water source, unblocking about two years worth of weeds which was slowing down the inlet pipe. It was a bit of a mystery where the source of the water is. I thought it might be way up in the forest. But no. It’s just a hundred metres behind the house. In a little dip of land (nicely lush with pale green broom plants) and with some good rich soil. Naturally as a greedy gardener I excavated a whole wheelbarrow full of the soil as I was searching for the concrete block that was hidden up there. The soil will go to build the lower artichoke bed. And then it was lift the block, don gloves and clean and clear and poke with sticks to try and clear the pipe.

I had to call on reinforcements in the form of some piping from Dario’s magic builder’s truck (love how they have everything including spare kitchen sinks in their vans) and with help from David we cleared the whole lot of obstructions. Lovely. But as the town water pipes are frozen we know exactly what we have left for the winter. One tank of about 10 cubic metres. Heaps really, but no more lingering showers for a while. It’s a bit like the wood pile. You think there is an embarrassment of riches there, until you see how many logs it takes to keep our wonderful fireplace roaring all day. The walls of the house are so thick that once the home heats up it doesn’t require much central heating fuel to keep it toasty. In fact we turn down all the radiators once the house gets up to the right temperature. They built buildings properly back in the eighteenth century.

But was there gardening along with the excavation work? Alas no. Down to town to buy a strimmer and all sorts of petrol powered goodies. Not back until after 7pm, but with some valuable garden treats. Today (in the rain) I shall put the newly purchased bark chips down on the path in the vegetable garden. That ought to cover up the weed proof fabric nicely. Mind you the variety of bark chip colours was a bit alarming. Who on earth would want painted blocks of maroon wood chips anywhere near their plants? Or lime green for that matter? I am hoping for the same effect as the garden in London. Just dark brown chips that resemble soil and don’t stand out. Hope the rummage I had in the bags as I was lifting them means I have bought the right thing.

Start as you mean to go on: today being the first day of good intentions I turned both compost bins. Virtuous and warm work on this gorgeous sunny but cold day. We went for a two-hour walk and had lunch on the terrace in the sun. It can’t have been more than 5Celsius, but with the views and the great feeling of satisfaction from walking down the valley, up the other side and back round the little road we felt well warmed.

Then it was back up to the forest to hunt for pine cones. We find they make wonderful little firelighters. So on this cold dry day I collected two sacks full for the rest of the chimney and fire season.

I wanted to explore the leaf mould situation up there as well. There are lots of oaks, but also pine trees in the forest and the entire floor is carpeted in thick leaves from all the chestnuts that have fallen. So would it be a good soil conditioner? I think not yet. There may be too much acidic soil from all the pine needles. But I’m definitely going to nick the soil around the water source: it’s chocolate brown and well crumbly.

Water sources are the topic of choice around here. We went to a party last night and everyone mentioned how challenging it is to have so little water in their springs. The town water pipes freeze because they haven’t been buried deep enough. Our poor neighbour Jean Daniel has no water at all at the moment. Everyone is waiting for rain.

Our water supply is fine. But we want to check that nothing is blocked further up the source. So we will set to with spades and forks tomorrow. And I will have the wheelbarrow nearby for all that lovely excavated soil.

I potted up twelve extra broad bean seeds into a tray of loo rolls. Insurance in case the mice discover the ones planted yesterday in the ground. They are sitting with the sweet pea seeds on the first floor of the guesthouse; right underneath the skylights. It’s about the only sort of cold frame I have at the moment and it should do the trick. I will check again at the end of the month to see if any have germinated.

Today was also a lower vegetable garden day. I weeded, raked and removed all the last remnants of the monster radishes. And put down the weed proof fabric on the path. It is disconcertingly pale. But as thick as felt. If only I could get my hands on some bark chips as I do in the London garden. After a few months the bark chips fade to the same colour as the soil and you can’t tell there is any fabric at all. We passed the saw mill on our walk this morning at St Michel de Chabrillanoux and I was lingering lovingly by the bark bins. They don’t do ‘retail’ apparently; but I must investigate.

Then in the fading light it was time to launch into the strawberry bed; mightily weedy. The worst are those annoying weeds that put down deep tap roots and take ages and a few fingernails worth to get out. At least I am getting them when they are junior in size; some of the ones up at the top vegetable plot were the size of parsnips by the time I had yanked them out. We need more strawberry plants. As well as more herbs. I envisage a mighty plant shopping trip at the end of this month. Hurrah.

Tomorrow must throw some water at the newly planted figs and blackcurrant bushes.