As I staggered in from the garden earlier this evening, having just mowed over a quarter of an acre with my trusty push-mower, I realised that we are almost in September and most people probably think I’ve done a midnight flit. J I’ve actually been feeling the first stirrings of blog inspiration again recently and will be back with a real post very soon, but I just wanted to show a sign of life and say thank-you for not forgetting about me altogether.
We have friends coming to stay early next week and after this will come the slow winding down of this latest summer in Normandy. As so often at this time of year, the weather is becoming beautifully sunny and golden, making it hard to think of uprooting ourselves and heading back across the Channel. But the ferry is booked and the diary is starting to fill with things to do when we get home, so we plan to enjoy these final days in France as much as we can, before packing our life into the very small campervan and taking it home again to Wales.
So as the leaves on the trees – cherry, apple and poplar - turn to gold and start to fall, I’ll leave you with a reminder that France is indeed another country, with a beautiful language I have yet to master completely after more than 50 years of trying….
Everywhere looks beautifully green. Sounds like a wonderful break in Normandy. Have a safe trip home.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Molly. I have never known it so green at this stage of the summer. The photo was actually taken at the end of July, but the grass is still as green, even if the leaves are starting to change colour.
DeleteThat is really a lovely patch of dirt y'all have.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to your return.
Thanks, EF. It is the remains of a small French orchard and I love it too, otherwise I wouldn't spend quite so much time mowing it all. :-)
DeleteGood to hear from you Perpetua, and thanks for the Yves Montand.
ReplyDeleteI've never heard it sung in French before. Didn't understand a word but loved it.
Make the most of your remaining 'golden days'.
You're very welcome, Ray. We of course know it as Autumn Leaves, but it was originally a French song, first sung by Yves Montand in a film the year I was born! http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Autumn_Leaves_(song)
DeleteGreat to hear from you - I was wondering whether you were OK! Looking forward to your return. Have a good remainder of your time there, & hope the weather stays good. The temp here went down to 5C last night - and we're still getting far too much wet in large lumps (not to mention thunderstorms as well!) Not enough Vitamin D from the sunlight this year.
ReplyDeleteI'm fine, thanks, Helva - just been doing other things. Despite the sun it's gone much cooler here too, with the wind now from the north, but we haven't had the rain which has so afflicted you, nor the thunderstorms either. See you soon....
DeleteLovely to see a post from you. I can only imagine how beautiful it must be there! Safe travels home.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Pondside and the same to you. It really is lovely here in the Normandy hedgerow countryside, very peaceful and green and i never tire of it.
DeleteLovely to hear that you've had such a lovely summer.
ReplyDeleteWhy is it when I read of your push mower that thoughts of Sisyphus come to mind....no wonder you've no time to blog.
It's been great, thanks, Fly, despite the cold, wet start to our stay.
DeleteYour Sisyphus comment made me laugh - the grass grows so quickly here that keeping it tidy often feels just like that. Still, I do enjoy the exercise and at least my mower has an electric motor even if I do have to push it.
Looking forward to reading your news when you get home. That's of course if you can leave that beautiful country. I know I'd have a really hard time. Smiles.
ReplyDeleteWhat news, Astrid? LOL! We actually live a very quiet life - just in different places. :-) You're absolutely right, though - I always find it hard to leave Normandy. It's only the thought that summer will come round again before too long that makes it bearable.
DeletePleased to see this post pop up as I was thinking about looking to see if I had missed anything.
ReplyDeleteVery nice photo. Just the idyllic sort of place we all dream of having - and you actually do! Lovely. Do enjoy the rest of your time there, I'm sure you will.
Nothing to miss, Rough Seas, as like you I've been taking a blogging break (unplanned in my case)
DeleteMy DH will be pleased you like the photo as it's a still from his beloved new toy, a digital video camera, which gives a rather nice widescreen format to photos. Yes, the cottage always looks idyllic by this stage of summer when I've wrestled the garden into shape and the sun is shining....:-)
You have been gone a long time, and your life in France sounds rather wonderful! It will be good to have you back as you have been missed, but it's also wonderful that you've been enjoying yourself! Enjoy the last bits of summer! Debra
ReplyDeleteI know, Debra, and I've been feeling guilty about it, but summer somehow seems to do this to my blogging. Sigh.... Still, I've had a LOT of healthy exercise in the garden in a vain attempt to counteract the effect of French food on my waistline and I've also been reading a lot recently, of which more anon....
DeleteHello Perpetua:
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful picture you paint here in words of the last, lingering days of summer as the mood, almost imperceptibly, changes to the approach of autumn. But it is those golden light filled days which you are experiencing now which are so very precious and to be enjoyed, as we know you will with your friends, to the full.
Now to mow a quarter of an acre of grass with a 'push' mower is quite some undertaking!!
Thanks, Jane and Lance. I love this time of year and it must show in my writing. There is something about the way the light changes, especially in the evenings which speaks of the year turning to autumn and the need to savour every sunny day.
DeleteAs I said to Fly, I do have a sturdy French electric mower, but yes, I have to push it everywhere. You should see my biceps....:-)
It has been a rather good summer, overall. I know you had it a bit wet up there, but I'm pleased it came good towards the end. It's funny how as soon as September arrives people reappear: I took the dog on a circuit we often use of a morning and ran into no fewer than seven people I know having seen practically no-one for two months.
ReplyDeleteHi Jon. You have certainly had a good summer down in the Vendée, and as you say, it finally arrived with us too, thankfully in time for the grandson's visit.
DeleteOf course people reappear in September. It's the rentrée, isn't it, and in France that seems to apply to everyone, not just the children going back to school. :-)
What a wonderful spot. Your grass is still so green! Here we've had no rain to speak of during August so all the grass has gone brown. Still with 2 1/2 acres to mow [ride on mower thankfully!] we're not complaining too much! :-)
ReplyDeleteIt is lovely, isn't it, and having so many shade trees around helps to keep it green. As I said to Molly, this is the greenest I ever remember it being at the beginning of September, probably because we've gone on having showers in between the recent sunny days.
DeleteWe have nearly half an acre here, but I leave a part of it wild, otherwise I'd never do anything but mow. We do have a ride-on we could bring across, but I enjoy the exercise and we have nowhere secure to store it.
What a fabulous setting you have there - it looks idyllic for reading and relaxing.
ReplyDeleteWales remains wet! But as you know, it has its great joys too. Perhaps you're feeling the pull of hiraeth after all.
It's looking at its very best at the moment, Mark, and the shade trees are invaluable in hot weather.
DeleteI gather from friends and from the BBC that this summer has been an absolutely washout in the UK. It must have been very depressing for everyone after such a cold, wet spring. Perhaps I can bring some Indian summer back home with me....:-)
What a beautiful space you have there in France, Perpetua, and I'm sure the grass looks so inviting because it's been mown by hand. Bit like the difference between bought and knitted socks or jumpers! (...maybe...)
ReplyDeleteGlad you feel the stirring of the blogging muse - look forward to what's to come. Have a lovely last few days and a safe journey back to Wales.
Axxx
The easy availability of land in rural France is one of its big attractions, Annie, and I'm always amazed at how much land often comes with decrepit little cottages like ours was when we bought it. It takes a good deal of time and effort to mow it all, but it's so worthwhile - very like hand-knitting now I come to think of it. :-)
DeleteThese last couple of weeks will probably whizz past and before we know it we'll be back in wet Wales.....
Didn't mean to cut you short! Weeks do fly past quickly too. Axx
DeleteLOL, Annie! You're telling me. :-)
DeleteI've always loved Autumn Leaves. It sounds so much more wistful, romantic, yearning in French, doesn't it? It is good to see your posting and your home there. I can see why you love it so much, Perpetua. Safe travel as you return across the Channel. I'll look forward to reading that blog you have brewing.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you enjoyed the French version of Autumn Leaves, Penny. I've always like Yves Montand and this is so good.
DeleteMy DH doesn't think this is the best photo I could have used, but it gives a good idea of the space and the lovely trees which are so important to us. It was originally a one-roomed farmworker's cottage with a grain store above and a lean-to implement shed behind, but we've changed it rather a lot. :-)
It is good to hear from you Perpetua, and lovely to see "the estate". I'm afraid there would be no chance of a green lawn anywhere in Caunes this summer....but the change to autumn has certainly started, both in Caunes, and back here in Hebden Bridge. I arrived back in Yorkshire yesterday, with the extra pleasure of knowing I shall be returning to the Minervois for the whole of October, and hoping for some serene autumn days.
ReplyDeleteThe Yves Montand track is beautiful, so wistful. Looking forward to hearing more from you soon. J.
A very small "estate", Janice at 1600m2, but quite enough to be going on with. :-) We grumble about the rain up here in Normandy, but at least it's rare for our grass to be burned brown and brittle as I know yours has been this year. Still, it will soon recover when the rain comes.
DeleteEnjoy your stay in the UK (your daughter's wedding, if I remember rightly?) and your autumn in the Minervois. We have yet to spend an autumn here, but I hope to do it sometime.
Dear Perpetua, I haven't heard "Autumn Leaves" since the '50s probably. It brought back many memories. It's so poignant and Montand's singing of it captures that poignancy. There's a richness to his voice and a melancholy. I wish I could read French so that I would have remembered more of the words, but alas, I studied the language in 1954-55 and have forgotten almost everything I learned then.
ReplyDeleteI'll be glad to read your regular postings again as I've missed your serenity in the midst of the exigencies of life. Peace.
Dee, for some unknown reason I've just had to retrieve your comment from my Spam box! The impenetrable workings of Blogger strike again.....
DeleteI'm so glad you enjoyed Yves Montrand's singing of Autumn Leaves and agree with everything you say about it. There is actually a YouTube video of a much older Montrand with English subtitles if that would help: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sa9VCVWOjjY
French is a difficult language and even though I studied it to university level back in the 1960s, it has taken me a long time to brush it up to a decent standard again and I'm still working on it....
Very good to see this post from you Perpetua - you are in good company as I haven't written or posted anything for nearly two weeks although I've got three ideas for a post if only I could get my brain into gear. Enjoy your last days in Normandy & like previous commenters, I look forward to your next 'real post' in due course :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks for that, Ricky, it makes me feel so much better to know I'm not the only one whose brain refuses to co-operate. :-) Now that it's definitely autumn (misty here this morning, so very Keatsian) I'm sure we'll both wake up from our summer torpor before long.
DeleteMorning, Perpetua. So lovely to hear from you. I hope your last weeks in Normandy are blessed with good things and you have a safe journey back to Wales. We shall be enjoying a short break in north Wales in a week or two and then our thoughts turn to Italy - hoping Mr. P and I can get to Italy during October. Either way, it does feel like a new season to look forward to.
ReplyDeleteI look forward to your future posts.
Morning, Relindis, and thanks. We have friends arriving today for a couple of days and after hat a few thigs we need/want to do before we pack up and head north. Enjoy your north Wales trip and I hope you manage to make it to Italy.
DeleteWhere did August 2012 go Perpetua? Most of it was washed away!
ReplyDeleteHere however it is a glorious day and a second lot of washing is almost dry on the line.
Enjoy your last couple of weeks in France, including the Village Soiree.
Perhaps we may see you on your way through our part of England back to Wales Big Sis?
Oh dear, PolkaDot, I'd heard that August was wet for you, but didn't realise it had been quite as bad as that. It's been a bit dryer over here after a wet start. Perhaps you'll get some more September sunshine after today, says she, crossing her fingers firmly.
DeleteWe'll be visiting DS and DH's mother on the way home, so not sure about a detour this time, but will email you.
I long ago gave up my struggle with French, which saddens me as it is as beautiful as you say. I have a love affair with France and yet I don't speak more than a smattering of the language. Shameful.
ReplyDeleteLooking forward to that next post Perpetua.
In many ways I too had given up the struggle, Annie, until we finally bought here, at which point I felt hugely motivated to work at it again. Sadly one doesn't learn as easily or as well in one's sixties as in one's twenties. Sigh.... Still I can now read the local paper or an ordinary novel and listen to French talk radio, though the local dialect and accent still fox me quite often.
DeleteSeptember sunshine is the sweetest, I always think, perhaps because of its poignancy. Like this marvelous song: thank you so much for giving us a version with the words, which I have never been able to follow. It's a favourite of both my mother's and mine, though not one to listen to if you're already feeling melancholy - unless you're in need of a really good wallow!
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely, DB. It has a quality all its own, perhaps because of the rapidly shortening days and our acute awareness of the seasons changing. I'm glad Autumn Leaves is a favorite of yours, though I can well imagine that after the year you've had, listening to it was indeed bittersweet.
DeleteIsn't it funny, now we're having a few days of summer here in the marches too. No leaves turning though, there's been enough rain to keep trees and the countryside green for a while yet.
ReplyDeleteWelcome back home, when you get here.
Thanks, Friko.I never want to leave France, but am still always glad to see Wales again.:-) I'm glad you're having some of this wonderful September sunshine too. The last couple of days have been cloudlessly sunny and warm and even some of the grass is looking a little less green....
DeleteThank you for leaving a comment on my post 'the city at night' and glad to hear that you've been enjoying your last weeks in France with friends. We're having some sunny weather and I hope you are too.
ReplyDeleteYou're very welcome, Relindis. I've been a bit slack on the commenting front recently with so much else to do, but do try to read when I can. We had a lovely time with our friends, thanks, and the weather is glorious at the moment. I'm glad it's the same for you.
DeleteThanks for the song, Perpetua - assuages my regret at not being in Provence any more!
ReplyDeleteYou're welcome, Christine. :-) I'm glad you had such a good trip to Provence. My first visit to France was as a 16year-old on a school trip to Arles and I fell hopelessly in love with the landscape and the light.
Delete