Bad tv. I’m watching bad tv. I should be sorting my photo folder so I can delight you with something visual to go with the text.
But my blog folder of delights is a teensy bit above desultory. I will improve.
There is the sweeping view stuff from my Tuesday walk around the Serre de Peyremourier. That was gorgeous. I was going to save it for Christmas Day but when it’s suddenly sunny and you have a mate visiting, we couldn’t resist. And Alice does a mean trek through forests and peaks.
It’s not often I actually stick my head up and beyond our own particular mountain. But with a perfect day of sunshine you can actually see the Alps from the other side.
The little information panels are rather engaging. Anything to get the population out on a weekend walking. Except being winter it’s hunting season on the weekends. And Thursdays.
We walked on a Tuesday when I was sure no one was going to take a pot shot at the wildlife. Or us.
Actually as I’m writing this on a Thursday night I did have a rather sporting drive back from the village on a back road just before lunch. It was like being in a Wacky Racers sketch. Hunters in hi vis jackets barrelling along in bomby old jeeps without much care for cars. One lost dog leaping out of the forest and almost ending up under my wheels. Thank goodness it’s a small winding forest road and you tend to drive at leaf-peeping pace in case of oncoming cars. Passing places are very rare.
And I’m always on the lookout for fabulous raptors.
But that doesn’t get the orchard weeded.
Lots of pairs of gloves do that. The weather is still mild. I keep expecting it to snow. But my goodness the ground is super cold. I can do a few hours and then realise that blocks of frozen fingers don’t make for deft weeding of bindweed and couch grass.
Still, I’m over halfway through the almost 60 metres of garden bank. The trick is not to look up and see how far you have to go.