Rats. Or should I say rodents. All my boasting about the little potting shed being a haven for seeds and potting up. I forgot to put the wire lid on the main box of seeds last night. And as a consequence something has grubbed up about a dozen little pea seeds from their pots. Chastised I have replaced the lid this afternoon and will try to be more careful from now on.

The day was stormy, overcast and threatening. Not the best weather for a day of creative garden work. But it is my last day before I go back on Tuesday so I was determined to make the most of my plans. Lower vegetable garden work. Weeding and maybe even that bit of creative design. Pics to show the mad scheme. It’s just a first draft. And actually the best bit was getting the boundaries determined at last. I have tied just a single piece of string around the perimeter but if I can work out the deer deterrent, it may be all I need. The weeding naturally took hours. By the end of the spring I hope to have worked out some sort of weed proof strategy. Perhaps getting a chipping machine to render all those pruned branches in the forest into a great ground cover mulch and then putting down another fabric to stop the endless march of weeds.

In the meantime I have weeded to within an inch of that garden’s life. Planted 30 lettuces (deer food?) and had a glorious half hour’s watering. Watering is definitely the reward for good behaviour. Am I the only one who gets such pleasure from hanging about with a hose in hand, drenching plants and making patterns in the soil? Bliss. Even the strawberry bed wasn’t neglected. All got a great soak. The little broad bean plants are poking up bravely above the soil, and some of the peas even survived my negligent hoeing. Awful to rake your way across the bed and realize too late that you have decapitated a pea plant.

If the rodents don’t get all the ones in the potting shed by mid-March I will be able to plant out replacements.

Just pause there while I add another log of wood onto the fire, crack another beer and turn up the volume on the rugby. So satisfying to actually have something to report. Apart from finally cleaning up this building site of a house. Two vacuum cleaners put into service no less.

Gloriously sunny and dare I say it, rather warm. Not the best conditions for the massive gardening projects (list written out days ago) but nothing was going to stop me.

First it was straight up to the potting shed to sort out the peas and beans. Lots of broad beans to plant out, but more peas to be potted up and kept in their cold frame for the three weeks break. Things are germinating nicely; cabbage, salad, mizuna, peas and even the sweet peas are up. The roof is definitely working. It’s rather airy so you can’t call it a controlled warm environment, but at least the local mice haven’t yet discovered all the treasures inside.

Next it was up to the top potager to weed it thoroughly and then plant about twenty little broad bean plants. Plenty of room for them beside the asparagus and not so close that they hug the fence. I want to plant the peas up against the wire fence and use the wire as a support. That’s weeks away as the peas are much more tender compared to the fleshy leaved beans.

Next it was on with the manuring of the raspberry canes. I bought two hefty bags of horse manure from Gamm Vert in Vernoux this week as my hoped-for source of horse manure hasn’t materialized. Our neighbour Jean-Daniel has about 20 horses up at the riding school; but they are not stabled. They live outdoors all year round so don’t have an easily contained supply of manure to give to us greedy gardeners.

The three rhubarb plants still seem alive. They were given a good manuring and watering as well. It’s a great little garden. The soil is rich but very friable – is that how you describe this wondrous soil? – and is going to have plenty of potato plants in about a months time. I have the Charlottes chitting on the window sill here in the kitchen. And a bag of Pink Fir potatoes sitting in the dark cupboard. The potato crops are often blighted by the Colorado Beetle before they even get a chance to get blight – but it’s an experiment I’m more than willing to try. We need our spuds.

I fell a few extra asparagus crowns at the garden centre at Wisley a few weeks back; so four of the critters went into the bed to make a full row. I have no idea if the row of plants are still alive. I did plant them rather early. But I have to be patient and hope all that work has not been for nowt. I do tend to prod the raspberries in a similar way. Are they more than just sticks in the ground? I had a peek at the raspberry field belonging to some neighbours on my last drive back from town. Thousands of raspberry canes in a field. And I was relieved to see that it was a field of sticks as well.

A quick trip back to the potting shed to sow some Verbascum, Cleome and Astilbes seeds, a quick tidy and then it was down to the lower vegetable bed. I actually took a few hours break as the idea of working the weeds in the warm lunchtime sun really deterred me. What a wimp; and this is only February. How on earth am I going to keep this plot weed-free and not suffer heat stroke later? Actually I found that the top vegetable bed is deeper – easier to weed. And the bottom one feels a bit like scraping stone in the baked earth. I didn’t go out until 5pm. And it was perfect – cool and encouraging. When you only have a few hours of daylight left you tend to just get on and rip those weeds with gusto.

Over lunch I had a look at the designs in Joy Larkcom’s creative vegetable gardening book and came up with a daring plan. Two of the beds are already planted in soldiery rows with onions, garlic and beans. (The little beans and peas have finally sprouted and are poking up above the soil). But with the two other beds it may be time to do something a bit more architectural. We shall see. I had time to add to the row of thyme plants down the edge of the steps, and then it was dusk and no more weeding for the day.

Tomorrow I can’t wait to get out there again. There’s more weeding to do, more manuring of the lower soft fruit and that mad design to attempt.

Does moving gravel about count as gardening? No I didn’t think so. But that’s the extent of it today I fear.

Just time to walk out to the garden and observe the little signs of spring. The crocuses are up; the tulips are about two inches high in their bed; and all the broad beans and  peas in the lower potager are poking their first leaves above the ground. Can’t be long now.  And best of all, there is a faint whiff of daphne when you stand near the office door. Bliss.

Back to the painting.

Aching back so it must have been a productive day; a bit more log loading, a bit of nettle collecting, and then it was gravel shifting and trench digging to round the day out. Nicolas and Bernard did four runs to the quarry down at les Olliers to collect sand for the walls and gravel for the courtyard. It took a whole day, which seemed to suit Nicolas; but Bernard kindly peeled off after a few loads to sand down the beam in the guesthouse and give me directions for the pipe in the courtyard.

 We are going to sort out the overflow of the trough by laying a pipe so it can run off to the vegetable garden where it will be useful instead of into the courtyard where it is dank and unproductive. But as the gravel is coming in a rush, I had to get on and dig the trench before it would get buried.

M. Pongerard is going to delivery more of my magic weed suppressing textile. But not for a fortnight, so it was get on with what I had and lay the carpet before the truck arrived with the little stones. They are larger than the current ones, which is a shame. But they will do well. And if that means there is a bit more exercise in crossing the courtyard (bouncing over the stones), then so be it.

So that’s what 200 feet of hose is for. At long last I have filled the barrels up at the top potager. Using a complicated set of links and (quite frankly in desperation) gaffer tape, I managed to join together lots of the yellow hoses and drag the whole thing all the way up to the top of the property. I am now the proud owner of three full barrels of lovely water. Just waiting for some crops to soak. Actually one of the barrels is a small one, which I use for the nettle soaking. And a foul smelling concoction it is too. But you can’t beat it as a free fertilizer. And I do have a perfectly placed crop of nettles just nearby the top plot. They are young at the moment and were quickly yanked out and dumped into the little soaking barrel. One more month or so and it will be the perfect fragrant (i.e. stinky) soup.

I also filled two barrels that I placed outside the potting shed. They will be for the lovely flowers that I will one day grow around the shed as the test bed for the bigger drifts of perennials that will one day grace the slope. We are a long way from a perfect flowerbed now, but it helps to be ready.

It’s a windy and cold day today; our first change of weather since I arrived ten days ago. And it has brought me indoors at the shockingly early time of 4pm. Usually you can’t drag me in until dusk. But my gardening is hampered by only having one eye to see by. On my umpteenth wood carrying trip this afternoon I managed to get a wood chip in the eye. And I don’t know if it is the irritation, a scratch on the lens, or still some annoying foreign body in there, but I can’t see and it is most irksome. I’ve done all I can to wash it out. And even Bernard kindly offered to have a poke about. But I think it’s just time that’s required. And a good night’s sleep. But maybe it’s also a good idea to have an idle late afternoon. Been at it since I arrived with building work, painting and a bit of gardening. And it all starts again tomorrow. Actually even this morning Manu came to do the electrics and Bernard pulled down the last pine cladding on the monster beam in the guesthouse. So there hasn’t been a day without work.

Gardening to report at last. The mulberry in the courtyard is now bald. The soft fruit trees have had a haircut as well. Just an hour o work from Nicolas (I was on picking up pruning sticks duty) but wonderful progress. Monday they are off to get the sand for the wall. Hurrah. And hopefully I can get a cubic metre or two of gravel for the courtyard as well.

At was quite a wooden theme as I was on log duty today – which is why I am slumped on the sofa and not going out to dinner with Jean Daniel, his brother and son tonight. Just more than ready to slink off to bed. Michel, our great tree surgeon neighbour spends one day a week up in our forest cutting out the dead wood and generally improving our neglected forest. He piles up the wood ready for burning (which he has already cut into the perfect lengths) up at the top of the forest. And it is my job to get it down to the house.

At first I thought I could stack them in the wheelbarrow and walk them down the slope. But the slope is more ski slope than gentle incline and it’s too easy to upset all the goods en route. So instead it’s bring out the throwing skills and launch them down the hill. You can only do this to the smallish logs. As the lobbing distance is about 80 metres. I can get most of the logs down in one go to the flattish bit near the top potager. But after about half an hour of strenuous throwing they tend to bwang off into the rocks or just fall rather short. It’s most satisfying when you can get a tonne of wood for your own fire into the wood cellar. But my you do feel all your arm muscles at the end of it.

I don’t really dare to write a Blog this week as I have hardly done any gardening. It’s major building work here and I am hard at working painting and decorating and trying to keep up with Bernard and Dario. So the only thing I can offer is the new three planters with Gertie Jekyll roses. And I planted the clematis. But it wasn’t in the place I really wanted. It’s meant to thrive on a north facing wall; but it just wont go under the wisteria. Not enough soil. So I was forced to place it at the base of one of the non-thriving grape vines. We shall see how it goes. If it does cover the arbour with sweet little white flowers I may embrace Miss Bateman and put more of them elsewhere.

The rosemary has survived its first week of transplantation. No sign of suffering yet. But we shall see. I did have a lovely potting moment in my very own potting shed earlier in the week. I did seeds. A little row of Verbena here, a row of land cress there. More peas, more broad beans and even some almost white nasturtium seeds which I want to plant under the lilac bush. I could barely believe it was happening. Me, in my own potting shed. With a great Perspex roof that makes it a cold frame as well. I just kept looking around at my little rows of seeds in their pots under plastic and smiled continually. Until of course I put my foot through one of the pallets that acts as a very poor floor. That was fun; lurched away like mad and just managed not to fall over. Wouldn’t want to be in there if you feel woozy.

But with a feeling of chagrin (I was going to write moue of disappointment, but realised I can’t spell moue) I have realised that I haven’t had time to even go up there and see how things are going. Maybe towards the end of the month things will settle down (i.e. I wont be painting walls all day and doing the shutters in the kitchen in the evening each night) and I can pretend to be a gardener again.