I’ve just given in. There’s no point hiding.  So despite it being a nippy minus 10C outside, I decided to do a spot of gardening. Thick puffa jacket, hat with flaps, heavy duty gloves, gritted teeth and off I went.

I have been looking at my calender and I realised that I will be away for the rest of the month.  And if things heat up then I will be so far behind that the winter chores will have to give way to the spring chores.  And there won’t be enough hours in the day to get it all done.

So out came the secateurs and all the eragrostis grasses got their haircut.  They are tough plants and they will just have to tough out another hard cold week of very cold weather.

I did the one in the calabert garden and the steep bank. Aided and abetted by one elderly Artur who thought it great fun to play with the huge long grass fronds.  Actually the poor vole didn’t think him so elderly when he stalked, caught and ate him earlier. I will spare you a photo of that rather gruesome morning sport.  But it did mean he was happy to follow me about the garden and not beg for food.

Annoyingly, he has settled into the potting shed in his favourite box this afternoon. So the door is open just enough for him to get out.  And for very cold air to come in and attack my poor plants.  Cats versus plants. A dilemma. I just have to remember to bundle up later and go up and see if he’s still there.

Jean Daniel has been away for the weekend (I was on horse feeding duty) so maybe if there’s a prospect of a warmish fire in the kitchen at his own home he might slink off and I can shut the door.

These aren’t really gardening reflections. But still, it did consume a bit of my day.

The other big job for the day was to prune the huge vines in the courtyard that we use as shade cover for our oak table.  That definitely had to be done now as they bleed when the sap rises and it’s a very distressing sight.

The whole job took about an hour and I had to come in and reheat with tea half way through.

And that was about the sum of the day.  Loads of wood carried in to both fires. A spot of rugby to watch on tv, a trip down to the train station and back.. And suddenly it’s night. And the temperature is dropping again.

Outside it is blowing a gale and the thermometer reads minus 10 Celsius. Ouch. so no gardening outdoors for me today.  Well, if I’m very keen I might go up and drag down branches for chipping.  But we had more snow overnight; so things might be a bit buried.

I’ve cleaned the basement, put out the potatoes for chitting.  Belle de Fontenay and Charlotte. And I’m about to start sorting out all my seeds.  But first I must go and feed the fire next door.

It’s the first time in years that we’ve had to keep heat on constantly in the guest house.  If the temperature falls below 0C indoors the pipes will crack.  So there’s no shirking feeding the fire.

Well this is sort of good news. It’s still snowing. And I don’t think it is going to thaw before the temperature drops.  So my plants will have a second sort of mulch – of snow.

I’m just so pleased that I dug out enough vegetables last Friday.  I wouldn’t be able to locate them now.  And the parsnips roasted beautifully.

And I stir fried the kale – cavollo nero – with a pinch of chilli to give it a kick.

I had thought I’d nip up to the potting shed and do a bit of organising. But with the perspex roof completely covered in snow it feels like being in a glowing cave. It’s quite comfortable and fun, but you don’t really want to linger.

In fact it was much more fun going for the long walk down to the letter box.  I saw deer tracks most of the way.

Right, I’m back up for air. Out of the office and into the playground that is a seven acre garden.

But what’s this? Surely I couldn’t be thwarted this early in the week?  Indeed. I woke up this morning to find all my projects on the Garden List are to be postponed.  Only a few inches of snow, but enough to hide all my paths I wanted to sort in the top vegetable garden today.

I did actually manage a few small projects over the last few days. The little sallies out when you are dying for some exercise and need a break from sitting down.

We do mistreat our poor car. Here it is playing the role of wheelbarrow very prettily.  Stacked to the gunnels with wood we threw down from the forest.  The nights are getting colder. We’ve some minus 13s coming later this week.

I decided to make the top vegetable garden my mini project in my long list of winter chores.  It badly needs some atttention.  First up I had to emtpy the three compost bins up there that had plenty of lovely crumbly compost to go on the beds.

So I had a happy few hours flinging it about.  Onto the raspberries. Pause here for an action shot of brown dirt on brown twigs. So fetching.

And then all the way down the asparagus bed. That took ages.

And then I had plenty left to trudge down with endless buckets of compost to the hedge.

Is ever a group of plants getting so much attention? They’d better reward me with lush growth this year.  I must have emptied a bucket of rich compost on each of the 27 shrubs on the top.  And I even had enough for the rest.  And it was tremendous exercise.

I lobbed a bit more onto the newly planted phlomis shrubs in the shade garden, and was contemplating adding more around other parts of the garden, but the sunset defeated me. Too dark to see.  But still, job well done and exercise and one’s mind off the computer. Lovely.

Shopping isn’t madly me.  But give me some saved up euros and two garden centres to visit while I’m down in town and just stand back and be appalled.

I haven’t been to Jacquet, the large plant nursery at St Peray for ages. And I wanted to see if they had any of my thyme plants I so desperately crave.  I didn’t get far into the giant space before I had spotted lavender grosso plants for just over three euros, and then glory be, some thyme plants for just over two.  How can a plant so healthy and shrubby only costs 2 euros 15?  I grabbed all they had, 12 in total, and went looking for some staff to beg for more.

I need about 50 to plant the whole bed in the plum garden below the house.  They didn’t alas. But I did spot some perovskia which I’ve been wanting to buy. So it was a fantastically fruitful trip.  I filled the car, tying every plant in and then went off to another nursery to see what I could nab.  Four  more thyme plants here (slightly more expensive, but a bargain really) and some seed potatoes for the spring.

Then I had just enough room (after a massive grocery shop) to fit in seven big bags of the Castorama cheapo mulch. They actually market it as potting compost, but you wouldn’t see me putting it anywhere near a seed. It’s more dusty mulch than anything else. So perfect for covering the soil.

I emptied most of the bags of compost onto the top part of my new beds. There’s no way I’d put the poor thyme plants in this week; we’re expecting a visit from Siberia in the form of storms later this week.  but they look neat and tidy with their blanket of brown.

I had just a few bags left to finish the huge soft fruit orchard up above on the next terrace.  I do so love this pause before the surge of spring.

I’m under house arrest so I can’t go out and play. It’s deadline day for my big screen research project is this weekend, so I have very little to report.

The one thing I did manage today (apart from bringing five loads of firewood in) was to dig up some parsnips.  There is a big Siberian storm predicted to arrive in Europe this weekend. And I hate the thought of not being able to get my veg out without breaking my fork.

I also cut a huge armful of Tuscan kale, then went down to the lower vegetable bed to cut equal amounts of swiss chard, rocket and curly kale. And on the way up to the hosue I grabbed rosemary, thyme and sage..

That ought to keep things ticking over in the kitchen for a few days.

The parsnips are hilariously large. Probably woody as can be; so they will be pureed. Or souped. But some of the little ones are going to be perfect for roasting.  It’s a good thing I went to the butchers and stocked up yesterday.  If it’s snowing and stormy, I won’t want to head out.

And guess who managed to sneak into the house while I was bringing in the firewood?  He tried sitting on my lap; but there’s a lap top computer there already. So he pushed me aside and has perched himself right on the edge of the sofa, right next to the roaring fire.  Who said cats are dumb?

Oh this is heavenly. I know I’m not meant to gush endlessly… but I’m having a great day.  A full on gardening day.

It’s mild and still and every time I look up I get views of valleys and hills and village.  St Michel in the distance. The horse at my pocket.  I decided to start off by doing what all plants need most.  Compost.  So down to the lower terraces (with plenty of apples in my pockets so I don’t get run over by a frisky stallion) and out with the disposable gloves and a bucket.  I’m simultaneously collecting fresh stuff and hauling out the year old gold.

Ulysse is the perfect horse as he tends to poop in the same spot. Bless.  Makes life much easier, I can tell you.

I have used most of the first two wheelbarrows worth (don’t worry, it’s light and not a strain on the back, despite having to wheel it 300 metres on an uphill slope) on the hedge up at the potting shed.

This hedge gets more attention than just about any area in the garden (apart from the two large vegetable beds).  And I wouldn’t lavish except that it’s in the interests of neighbourly relations.  My potting shed is an eyesore, especially in winter.  And if I can get these little hedges growing away life will be happier all round.  There are now 27 small shrubs on the top side near the road, and 21 on the down side.

I’ve just put in five more rose rugosa plants.  Manure galore, mulching, weeding, even the dread bonemeal which I rarely use.  My soil is exceptionally free draining and thin.  And I’m going to need a tractor load of manure to get these beasts growing well.  But the bit I have done is fine and I’m happy.

Next up will be the last of the box balls to complete the little display in the bed under the wisteria.  I struggled for years to try and grow anything under this thick white wisteria.  Deeply shaded in summer, east facing, and dry as can be.

So I gave in and planted box balls and mulched with home shredded sticks. But I was four short.  Artur is modelling himself in the area right now. But you can see the four paler green plants at the back.  Softies. They are grown at the huge plant nursery down on the Rhone river.  They will have to toughen up.

Planting them wasn’t easy. I had to dodge around the tulips that are already here, and dig out some mighty stones. And then they had to be exactly straight. And I’m talking straight both ways – these plants are going to take years to knit together. If at all.

Next up was a quick planting of the three phlomis purpurea in the shade garden.  This was a mad purchase at the nursery; but the flowers and the form are great. In fact the only reason it was a mad purchase is I’m trying so hard to take cuttings from my existing single plant. So call me greedy. And impatient. And the flowers are divine. Fleeting but exquisite.

I did another zip down to the manure heap which I can happily say is now empty. Minus the fresh stuff I just added.  And then had to decide what to do: clean the potting shed, pester Artur who had taken up residence in the potting shed again? Or start weeding.

I did neither. I kept planting.  The euphorbias in the potting shed – collected from all parts of the garden as they self sow so brilliantly – were getting thirsty.  So I decided to put them in a tidy little heap outside the potting shed in among festuca plants.

And I was musing about this fantastic lull.  I can dig the soil, plant like mad and not have to fret about weeds.  But boy do I need to mulch and save these newly planted treasures from the invading unwanted weeds.  I’m going to start fantasizing about trailer loads of mulch again. I just can’t make it fast enough. And I’m going to be haunting roadside municipal workers this spring.  Where do they take all their chippings?  I must ask the mayor on Friday night at the village meeting.  I could easily use a few tonnes.

And on that note it’s back in to feed the fire and start my indoor work.

In this case it’s an elderly feline; and I used to think it was my potting shed. But Artur disagrees. He has taken to playing the role of gatekeeper; guarding the entrance from any invaders. You can just see him on top of the water butt on the right.

And he rates me as a baddie. I’m disturbing his blissful and very peaceful life. I demand pats and purrs and brief lap sitting when I want to have a cup of tea sitting on my chaise longue.

So to thwart me, he yowls. And steals my chair, and wont permit much affection.

But I shall wear the little beastie out. It is my shed and he is my part time cat.  Believe me, horses are much simpler.

But I did manage to get in the shed long enough to unpack my huge order of asparagus. I ordered them from Blackmoors, and have brought them out wrapped up in newspaper and hidden from the light. There are enough crowns to plant 15 metres of asparagus up at Jean Daniel’s unused potager . It’s a gift to him for all his kind help with me in the garden last year.

He doesn’t know that yet. I only saw him briefly this morning and I forgot to mention it. He was more keen on telling me all about the village meeting that’s taking place on Friday night. Attendance compulsory as we have to sort out what to do with our public square.

But back to the asparagus; it needs to be stored in damp compost and hidden in the dark until the soil warms up a bit outdoors.  I could do a bit of preparation – I can see that he has strimmed the worst of the weeds. So we can discuss it on Friday.

First day chores? Well it’s always hard to settle to any one task.  And it is disconcerting to have your every move in the garden watched by the beady eyes of the cat and the distant ones of the horses. The oldest stallion is in the paddock behind my potting shed, and Ulysse is on the lower terraces.

So I did some grocery shopping in town, drove to Vachon to get the last of my four box balls; plus some phlomis and rosa rugosa plants. I had wanted to by my 50 thyme balls. But I was thwarted.  Vachon may be a plant nursery that stretches for acres and acres of land, all filled with hundreds and hundreds of varities of plants. But the thyme were tiny. And far from adequate for the job I have in mind.

So, pouting slightly, I just covered the entire 30 feet in mulch.

I had to weed it first. But it’s a joy to work on this bed as it’s situated at waist height; being the top of wall below the house.

And there weren’t that many weeds.  There should have been none of course; it is the middle of winter.  But the weather has been so wild, that things insist on growing.

I don’t have a lot of flowers of course. But what I do have are bulbs. And they are perfuming my living room as I type.  I planted up hundreds of narcissus paper whites in pots before I left. And they are out and causing quite a stir. Daniele is delighted with her pots which she has had in succession since December.  And Katherine, if you lived a teensy bit closer, I’d love to give you a pot too. Instant happiness.

Happy new year.  Well, I missed the calender one, but I’ve just squeaked into Chinese New Year. It’s so, so wonderful to be back. I have been away for a shameful seven weeks.

Driving up to the house this afternoon I was looking carefully for any damage or dramas but everything is just wintry and still. It doesn’t look like we’ve had any major storms or bad weather. In fact it’s all just fantastically normal. Weeds of course. The weather has been too mild to slow things down completely, but it still is a wintry garden.

And within ten minutes of my arrival I had my own Chinese Year of the Dragon demonstration by a very plump and vocal Artur. He howled and yowled and stalked about. And I am delighted to see him.

The horses are at hand as well. I have given two apples to a very greying Ulysse – he whinneyed excitedly, but it was all cupboard love. Jean Daniel has put him on the lower terraces as there is very little feed. And he chased me all the way down to the lowest path where I collected our infra red trail camera.

All his Arab horses go white eventually, and this four year old is taking on the hues of the rest quite quickly.  I must take care to feed him apples every day. I need his manure.

The potting shed is a haven of warmth. A bit too warm for some of the plants. But I have some germinating gaura seedlings which is fun. And once I watered all the rest I even have a thriving little garden colony in there. I had no time to really inspect things. I wanted to do a lap around the garden while it was still light.

And of course I had to have my plump little helper stalking me all the way.

Right now I am perched very very close to the roaring fire while I try and defrost the house. More news soon.

Well so much for tile work.  I woke up this morning to find it not only raining but blowing a gale.  Rats.  So instead of useful roof work I was forced to do house work.  And I had to tidy my office.

I tried to put it off by doing a spot of raking of leaves, but I got absolutely drenched in a downpour and had to come in and change clothes.   But the lawn is cleared of leaves so that’s a positive thing.  And I managed to go up to Jean Daniel’s and measure his vegetable garden up for the future asparagus beds we are going to plant in spring. 

I think we can get three rows of 5 metre long beds in between the jostaberries and the raspberries.  I’ve chosen plenty of different varieties from Blackmoors to try and stretch the season: cannover’s colossal, backlim, theilim, gijlin, and purple passion.  That ought to be a fun crop in a year’s time.

And while I was up at that part of the property I mooched about a bit and looked at the top vegetable plot that abutt’s Jean Daniel’s. Weeding needed.  So there’s something for next year.

And next up was closing up the potting shed. That’s not fun. Boy am I going to miss this lovely work room.  It felt odd putting fleeces over plants in such a mild season, but things could turn.

And naturally I had to think about my little potting shed companion.  He was fast asleep in a box today.  He is in one of the wine boxes that I have stacked on the shelf above the sedums for this very purpose.

He loves a nest and he is going to be very, very bored over the next month without me.  But I know he will be fickle about his nesting sites. So I have made him plenty. I’m almost ashamed to say that if I count them up there are seven spots where he can hide and doze and avoid the sound of the hunting dogs and the weather.  And right now he is sleeping on one of my old cashmere sweaters.

Moi? Spoil the elderly gent? Never!

So that’s the last picture of the year. It is appropriate as he has featured mightily over this year’s blog. And on behalf of both of us, I wish you all an early Merry Christmas and a happy new year.