Dinard

Dinard is a beach resort town just across the mouth of the Rance River from Saint-Malo. The town is famous for its Belle Epoque villas and an annual British film festival. This is a view of villas on the Pointe de la Malouine, just north of the Dinard's center.

Fancy villas on the Pointe de la Malouine, Dinard. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

Ken and I made short work of the hundreds of apples on the ground yesterday morning. Then, after lunch, I went out and cut the grass in the west forty. The only part yet to mow is the strip outside our hedges along the road. Last weekend, our neighbor across the way ran his riding mower over the strip, so it really doesn't need to be cut again.

Caught in the act

The grape harvest is winding down in the vineyards around us. Yesterday morning, a harvester picked more grapes just beyond our back gate. I grabbed the camera as they were emptied into a waiting trailer for transport to the winery down the road.

Taken from the den window. If you look closely, you can see the purple grapes pouring into the blue trailer.

This morning, around 06h30, the harvester and the tractor/trailer were back. More grapes are being picked in the vineyard parcel to our north. There's still a huge parcel a little farther east to be done. I wonder if they'll go there next.

Walk on the wall

Another old photo from Saint-Malo on the Breton coast. The wall around the old city has a great walkway on top and we took a stroll along the sea side section. That's Ken a little ahead of me carrying my camera bag while I hung back taking pictures. He does nice things like that all the time.

Wall walking in Saint-Malo. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

I got out and mowed the north forty yesterday afternoon. The sun was out the air was cool and it felt good to get it done once again. Today's goal is to cut the south forty. I'm targeting Friday for the west, but first the apples will have to be picked up. Again.

This morning I'm heading over to the vet's office for some vermifuge (worm medication) for Bert. He gets a worm pill every few months. I'll take Tasha with me and get her weighed while I'm there. She's really lost a lot of weight on her diet.

Ramparts

These are part of the remparts around the old city of Saint-Malo. From what I understand, the Germans held the city for a time during the Second World War and they added to and reinforced the fortifications. Allied forces bombed them along with most of the old city. Work began at war's end to repair and rebuild the walls and the buildings behind them.

Saint-Malo in Brittany. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

We're enjoying sunny and dry afternoons this week. I'm planning to get out and get the grass cut again. It could be the last time this year, depending on the weather. But it likely won't be. I've cut the grass as late as early November in years past.

Tasha Tuesday

As promised, here are some photos from last Friday. Grooming Day. The camper mobile salon showed up on time and the groomer, Lucie I think is her name, was very nice and funny. We debated getting the camper in through our gate to the courtyard, but in the end we decided it wasn't worth the hassle. I asked her to park out back by the pond.

This is an "after" pic of Tasha on the deck. I didn't take any "befores." What a happy dog!

Tasha was a bit nervous at first, especially about going into the camper. But once in, and with Lucie's calming influence, she settled right down. I checked in periodically, but there was no need. Tasha was in good hands and she seemed to be having a good time.

The camper mobile salon. I supplied the electricity by extension cord.Pretty cool!

The end result was fantastic. Tasha was clean, her tangles and undercoat were gone, and Lucie trimmed her fur exactly as I wanted. I will definitely call on her again, probably next spring or early summer.

Another "after"pic. Tasha stands and shows off her neatly trimmed legs and paws.

Misty morning

Here's a view of the walled city of Saint-Malo on the Brittany coast on a misty morning back in the winter of 1992. We had spent the night in town and were just on our way west, looking back. The city was all but destroyed during the Second World War. It was rebuilt mostly as it was shortly after.

Saint-Malo in the mist. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

This morning is another chilly one. The indoor thermostat wants to turn the central heating on, but I'm overriding that manually. The days are predicted to be sunny this week and the house warms up naturally. I'll save the fossil fuel for when it really gets cold. That's not too far away, I'm sure.

Can't see the forest for the trees

Tasha and I walked by these woods a week or so ago. We've been in a few times, and I certainly wandered around in there with Callie, but it's been a while. This time we just looked in from the road. At a certain point there's a tractor path into the woods and a short walk takes you to a spot that's been cut for firewood, with stacks of wood where the trees once stood. The wood might be gone by now, with new trees growing to replace those cut. One of these mornings we'll head in to have a look.

I call these the "haunted woods." There are some strange things in there. Check it out here.

Yesterday we did a lot of preserving. I made a big batch of tomato sauce with the remaining toms that our friend gave us last week. I got five containers full for the freezer. Ken prepared and froze the sweet red peppers that were left after making ratatouille. I also picked a good helping of green beans from the garden and I found a good-sized zucchini on the vine. It's one of only a few we've seen this year (except for in the markets). Our tiny tomatoes, however, seem to be done for the year. I grilled shrimp on the barbie and we ate that with rice seasoned with various Asian sauces for lunch. Yum!

A week away

The autumnal equinox is still a week away and already we're seeing leaves gathering on the ground. The big fall won't happen until much later, but the early turners are doing their thing. This is the garden path, under the tilleul (linden or lime tree) in the foreground.

Leaves and sticks and pine cones accumulate on the garden path.

Tasha's toilettage (grooming) got done yesterday morning, as planned. We had one small glitch at the beginning when we realized it would not be easy to maneuver the camper mobile salon into the driveway. We decided not to try and asked the groomer to park out back by the pond. I ran three long extension cords out along the path, out the gate, and over to the camper to supply it with electricity. Once that was done, things got going.

Tasha was a little nervous at first when I lifted her into the camper mobile salon, but she calmed down pretty quickly and the groomer did her thing. A bath, a good brushing, and a trim. I checked in every once in a while to see how things were going. That was more to calm me down than the dog. But I had nothing to worry about; Tasha and Lucie (I think that's her name) had become friends. Tasha let Lucie brush all that tangled and knotted undercoat off without snapping at all. The whole thing took a couple of hours and now Tasha is clean and neat. I'll post a couple of photos on (Tasha) Tuesday.

Ratatouille

Ken mentioned on his blog that a friend of ours brought us bounty from her garden a few days ago. She has had much more success this year than we and she brought us a big case filled with plump, ripe tomatoes, gorgeous eggplant, and sweet red peppers. Immediately I thought of making that southern French classic: ratatouille.

Grilled chicken breast with a rustic ratatouille.

The only thing we needed from the store was some zucchini; you'll remember that my crop mostly failed this year. I sauteed chopped onions, garlic, and red pepper in some olive oil. Then I added the coarsely cut tomatoes, eggplant, and zucchini to the pot. Some herbs (our home grown and dried oregano and thyme) along with some salt and pepper finished it off. The whole thing simmered for about an hour, maybe a little more. I grilled a couple of chicken breasts to go along with it. Delicious!

The leftover ratatouille went into the freezer for another meal. Or two.

Just in time

Last evening, well before sunset, I took Tasha out for her pm walk. The sky was noticeably dark out to the southwest and I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. I decided to walk around the vineyard parcels to our north then circle back along the road, just in case.

A tractor path between woods and vines.

When we got back home, there was definitely a thunder storm moving toward us from the south. We sat on the deck for a few minutes to watch, but then the rain started. With the wind, the deck was getting wet, so we scurried indoors. The storm didn't last very long (maybe fifteen minutes), but if we had gone out any later, Tasha and I would have been soaked.

Bumpy night

We had another hot day yesterday with a few thunderstorms in the afternoon. Overnight, we had a lightning show. Storms moved up from the south and west all night long and, while a few of them were very close, most went past us. Some of the lightning was far enough away that I couldn't hear the thunder, but the flashes lit up the sky all night. I didn't sleep much. At one point during a close storm, Tasha jumped up onto the bed looking for safety. Bert also spent some time on the bed, but he's not really scared by storms.

On their way from green to brown, I caught these acorns in their yellow phase.

Also yesterday, from before sunrise until just after lunch, the grape harvester was busy. I wouldn't be surprised if most of the grapes out back have been picked now. I think it was a race to get them in before the storms came.

In the heat of the day

As predicted, yesterday was a hot one. It was rather chilly all morning, then the afternoon warmed up. A lot. Ken said he had trouble sleeping last night because of the temperature. I, for a change, was mostly okay. The harvester is back and yesterday the guys took a couple of truck loads of sauvignon (I assume) off to the winery. This morning, just before 07h30, the harvester showed up again and is working, in the dark, just outside our garden gate. The grapes planted there are red ones. It's predicted to be hot again today, so I'm guessing they're picking grapes while it's relatively cool out there.

The grape truck passes by our kitchen window on the way to the winery.

I read an article from the LA Times yesterday (it was dated 2017) that said that half of all the wine grapes in California are harvested by machine. But in Napa, it's less than ten percent. I suppose Napa has an image to perpetuate, but economics will win out eventually. The article mentioned that cheap manual labor is becoming less available (due to more vigorous immigration laws and more border security) and that the economics of grape picking is making machine harvesting more financially attractive. Indeed.

Last gasp?

Summer is waning but today will be hot, going over 30ºC (approaching 90ºF) this afternoon. Still, the telltale signs of fall are out there. I haven't seen any more harvesting out back for a few days, but that just means the growers are working in other parcels.

White grapes, probably sauvignon, ready for harvest. And the vine leaves are starting to turn.

We're trying something new this Friday. I made an appointment with a dog groomer who makes house calls. She has a camping-car (RV) that's been converted to a mobile grooming shop and she'll be here on Friday morning to bathe and trim Tasha. All she needs from us (besides her fee) is an outlet to plug into. She carries everything else, including water, in the RV. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm doing without news and certain blogs this morning in an attempt not to find out who won the men's final at the US Open until I can watch it. I recorded it overnight. I hope.

Peanut butter cookies

Last week I had a hankerin' for some good old-fashioned peanut butter cookies. All the ingredients were on hand, so it was easy to pull together. I've wondered over the years: why do peanut butter cookies always have that crosshatch pattern in them? Whatever the reason, we ate half of them (then finished them off the next day).

Peanut butter cookies fresh from the oven. There were another eight cookies in the second batch.

This morning's low at home is a chilly 12.8ºC (about 55ºF). The house is still warm, so the central heat hasn't had to come on. And daily highs are predicted to climb over the next couple of days.

Mechanical

This is what a mechanical harvester leaves behind once it passes over a row of vines. The grapes are shaken off of their stems by vibrating rods. They fall onto conveyors that lift them into two large bins on either side of the harvester. When those bins are full, the harvester empties them into a large trailer that's parked outside the vine parcel. Once the trailer is full or the parcel is completely harvested, the grapes are taken to the winery and transferred to the pressing machine. 

Near-naked grape bunches are left after the harvester passes.

I'm no expert, but I've seen the harvesters in action and I did a little reading about how they work. There are videos on the internet that show and explain the process. A lot of juice is released when the grapes come off the stems, but it's collected along with the grapes and goes on to the winery.

Hand picking is more labor intensive, obviously. Most of the grapes remain whole until the juice is extracted in the press at the winery. The hand method supposedly helps in making a better wine. It's also a nifty marketing tool. There are whole wine categories, such as Champagne, that don't allow mechanical harvesting at all.

Tasha and I ran into the woman who owns many of the vineyard parcels around us yesterday afternoon. She was out testing the grapes for ripeness. She told me that the chardonnay just north of our house is just about ready, so we'll be hearing the familiar hum of the harvester out there soon.

Late summer

Fall has a couple more weeks to wait. Summer's not quite done yet. I picked some green beans yesterday and there are more to come. There are more (tiny) tomatoes to be picked. And the grape harvest, while early, has only just begun.

A late summer view of the vineyards behind our house.

I suppose that the next two weeks will not be about the weather or the arrival of autumn, but about the British monarchy, the death of Elizabeth and the (presumed) ascension to the throne of Charles. Memorials and retrospectives and ceremonies. And a heaping helping of speculation. Ad nauseam. No surprise there.

Slow and steady

The grape harvest continues out back. I've seen workers hand-picking grapes in several parcels while the mechanical harvester plies the rows in others. I took this picture yesterday across a few parcels to our north and west, overlooking the Cher Valley.

A mechanical harvester does its work (it's just to the left of the house in the center of the photo) just after sunrise on Wednesday.

So far, I've seen only white grapes being picked. Ken said he saw a truckload of red grapes go by the other day, but I missed it. As for the weather, it's getting chillier with more light rain showers. Feels like fall.

To hedge, with love

This grew in our hedge. I don't know what* it is, other than a vine with heart-shaped leaves. I hardly noticed it until it turned from green to yellow over the past few weeks. A little early for fall, but very early (or very late) for Valentine's Day.

The hedge is mostly cherry laurel (laurier cerise), but other plants sneak in.

Speaking of fall, the weather is taking a turn toward more fall-like temperatures. The equinox is just over two weeks away, falling (pun intended) on the 23rd this year. That's if you subscribe to the astronomical view of seasons. For you meteorological types, it's already fall.

* A little internet research indicates this may be tamier (discorea communis), because of its heart-shaped leaves and red berries.

Tiny tomatoes

I've been picking tomatoes for a while so far this season. I think the heat and drought have affected their growth. The fruit is tiny, even though I watered faithfully and daily through the worst of the heat waves.

Monday's harvest of tomatoes from the garden.

There are three varieties of tomato in the bowl. One, called "Lancelot," is supposed to be small. They are the pointy tomatoes that look a little like red chili peppers. The oblong variety is "roma," and while they're shaped right, they should be almost twice the size that these are. The third variety is round and is called "marmande." Many of those are about the size of cherry tomatoes, but they should be big like a standard tomato.

Still, most of the tomatoes are usable and they taste good. Unfortunately, they're not big enough to stuff and there aren't enough of them to make sauce for the freezer. We're eating them in salads and otherwise cooking with them. Ken used some to make Italian-style green beans to go with yesterday's lunch. Yum!

Spooky chokes

Fall is coming. That means Halloween is coming. And so are the ghouls and goblins. And the un-dead artichokes.

I know what Dr. Spo in Arizona would call these.

I made some good progress with our blocked drain pipe yesterday. Our power washer has a drain-snake attachment. I got it to go almost the full length of the troublesome pipe, but there is still an obstruction at the end where it empties into the roadside ditch. The problem is that we filled in the ditch a long time ago. Aha, you might say. That's why the pipe is blocked!

Now I'm thinking we should try to dig out the area where the drain pipe should be to see if we can find it and unblock it. But where has the water been going since 2011 when the ditch was filled in? Hmm...

More grapes

The grape harvest continues. So far, all I've seen are white grapes (sauvignon, based on where they're working) being picked and it's being done with mechanical harvesters. The red grapes are still on the vine, ripening, I suppose. There is no hand-harvesting going on yet that I can see.

Abundance!

Saturday morning's market run was successful. I got what I needed from the supermarket, then went over to the outdoor market. The Asian guys were back from vacation so I was able to get some nems (Vietnamese egg rolls). I also walked down to a jewelry store in town and got two watch batteries replaced along with a new band.

The big news is that I saw a sign at a construction site across the street from the supermarket that said a new Lidl store is going in. We go to Lidl every once in a while, but the locations closest to us (there are three) are all about a forty minute drive away. The new store will be just a few minutes away.

Still life with wheelbarrow

As production, such as it is with tiny tomatoes and finger-sized zucchini, in the vegetable garden winds down, I'm starting to pile compost and larger yard waste in the plot. I do this every year as part of the preparation for fall and winter. The plot becomes a staging area for getting rid of plants, sticks, and stalks from other parts of the yard.

A desiccated artichoke and a pile of rotting apples.

We had a little excitement yesterday morning when a light rain became a downpour, replete with lighting and thunder at close range. All of a sudden, we noticed that water started backing up and leaking into the utility room on the ground floor. We've had some water during heavy rain for years, but this was different. And very wet. We scrambled to move stuff to a dry part of the room. Water was backing up into a pipe that drains condensed water from our central heating boiler (I won't go into the technical details, mostly because I don't really understand them) and was flowing out onto the floor beneath the unit.

During a brief lull in the storm, I went out to where one of the downspouts from the roof gutters, the one closest to the leak, empties into a pipe that takes the water away. That's also where the boiler's drain pipe empties. The junction box was full of water and overflowing. I grabbed a small bowl and started bailing to get the water out, but it kept filling up. After a few minutes, I ran and got my handy plumber's snake (which we figured out later is called un furet in French). A little snaking quickly revealed that the drainage pipe was blocked. I pushed and pushed with the snake until, all of a sudden, the water in the drain pipe disappeared with a whoosh, as if someone had flushed a toilet.

I think we need to find the French equivalent of Roto-Rooter to clean that pipe out. It must be blocked by roots or other debris. Once I poked through with the snake, the water infiltration from the boiler pipe subsided. We swept as much of the standing water as we could out into the greenhouse. A few hours later the utility room floor was dry.

So, how was your Friday morning?

A foggy morning

Fall is knocking at our door. Temperatures are evening out. The sun comes up later, and sets earlier. We're getting a little rain (it's raining as I type this). And morning ground fog is sneaking into the landscape. This is the view from the guest room window looking west a few days ago.

Fog in the vineyard at sunrise.

Hit the deck! Yesterday, I called a guy (a mason) that does terraces and tile work among other things. He poured a concrete patio for our new neighbors earlier this year, and they recommended him highly. I told him we are looking for someone to renovate our deck and described the project a little. He said he'd come over to take a look... in an hour! And so he did. He spent an hour with me looking and listening and explaining what he would do and why. It all sounded pretty good, so he's preparing an estimate for us. I asked him, that if we agreed, when he thought the work could get done. He said April, after winter. That's a firmer date than we ever got with the first guy. I'll keep you posted.

Les vendanges

As I mentioned yesterday, the wine grape harvest has started out back. A big mechanical harvester picked a truckload of white grapes, I'm assuming it's sauvignon, and took them to the winery. Usually they start with the chardonnay to our north, but not this year. I wonder how much hand-harvesting they'll do and when that will start.

Let the harvest begin!

I decided I'd better get some photos of grapes before they're picked, so I went out the back gate for a few quick shots of red grapes. I think these are grolleau (someone once told us), a less common Loire Valley variety that's grown here and there around us.

Grape harvest

These are table grapes that grow in our back yard. About half of the dozen or so vines that grew here died since we moved in. They were planted by the previous owner and over the years nearby trees grew up and shaded them. We've never seen many grapes on the vines, but this year is different. First, one of the big trees that shaded the vines is gone. Second, last year was wet and this year has been hot and dry. There must be some correlation.

There are also two small bunches of red grapes out there, but I haven't picked them yet.

So, anyway, it's a small harvest, but it looks bountiful, considering. I don't know what varieties of grapes they are. Some are very tart (maybe I picked them too early) and others are quite sweet.

I heard yesterday (from the mayor) that the actual wine grape harvest may be starting up by the end of the week. UPDATE: A mechanical harvester just arrived in the vineyard (07h10).

Panorama

Just a quick post as a thunderstorm is moving over us first thing this morning. And it's raining! So we're closing windows and moving the car and hoping the power doesn't go off. We had a brief power outage yesterday (for no apparent reason) that lasted just long enough to cause the computers to go out, along with several digital clocks. The satellite tv is out now because the storm is between us and the satellite.

About three quarters of our yard and garden. There's more behind me and to the right.

This is a panorama of the back yard. The gate is behind me and I'm looking east. I didn't intend to take a "pano" shot, but noticed that two of the photos were pretty much adjacent, so I stitched them together in Photoshop. You can see our disaster of a vegetable garden on the left. The house is toward the back on the right. Maybe I'll make an effort to get a better "pano" at some point soon.

Dead heads

I didn't water the artichokes much this summer. Now they stand like otherworldly sentinels along the garden path. I don't think they're really dead. Maybe they're un-dead. The roots are probably fine and, when (if?) it starts raining again, green shoots will sprout anew.

Pretty in their own way.

Meanwhile, our drought deepens. Ken was looking through photos of the back yard and vegetable garden from ten/fifteen years or so ago yesterday. It's amazing how green and lush everything looked back then and how productive the vegetable garden was. It's like comparing the Amazon rain forest to an abandoned Death Valley parking lot.

Well, well, well

A week or so ago, I dug up all the clary sage plants and weeds that were growing in the little strip around the base of the real fake well. The sage plants get too big for that spot, so something else has to be done. In our first years here, we planted flowers like marigolds there and they did well. However, in more recent years, the few times I tried, snails and slugs devoured them. So now it's time to try something else.

You can't see them in this photo, but there are hens and chicks planted inside the well.

I've been wanting to get some day lilies for a while, so I think I'm going to look for some when the bulbs and rhizomes show up in the garden stores this fall. They are supposedly drought tolerant, like poor soil, and are resistant to heat spells. In the meantime, I'll keep pulling up the weeds as they grow and we'll enjoy the bare look until next spring.

Cut grass

Once again, the grass is cut. Not that there's much grass. What grows in this dry and hot weather is weeds. Most of the grass is brown, except for what survives in the shade of the trees. I gathered up all the apples under the two apple trees early on Friday morning. Ken helped me pick them up and into the wheelbarrow, then I dumped them into the compost piles behind the garden shed. But there were too many to fit. I dumped four wheelbarrows full into our two compost piles before they started to roll out. So now there's a pile of apples (two wheelbarrows full) in the garden plot. There will be more.

A view of a portion of the west forty with the two apple trees on the left. The line of grape vines behind them marks the boundary between the west and north forties. To the right of the garden path is the south forty. The whole property is about half an acre.

The west forty takes about forty minutes to cut. The north, a little more than half an hour. The south forty, as I mentioned yesterday, about twenty minutes plus another fifteen to do the strip along the outside edges of the property. However, I no longer do it all in one go as I used to. These days I break it up into three stages. Not to mention trimming along the edges of the garden path which isn't done yet.

Fort du Petit Bé

Here's another of the defensive forts that once protected the walled city of Saint-Malo, a city on English Channel in Brittany. Le fort du Petit Bé was built in the seventeenth century as part of the network of defensive structures conceived by Vauban to protect the city. I read that it is accessible to visitors at low tide. Just be sure not to get stuck when the water starts to rise.

Le Petit Bé, just off the coast of Saint-Malo. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

I got out early yesterday to cut the grass in the south forty. It only takes about twenty minutes, so it's not a huge chore. Still, there are a lot of obstacles like shrubs and trees to navigate around, so there's some effort maneuvering the lawnmower around them. All that's left now is the west forty, the largest of the yard's sections. The one where the apple trees are.

Pie are squared

PARENT: What did you learn in school today?

KID: πr².

PARENT: That's ridiculous! Pie are round, cornbread are squared!

The crust turned out nice and crispy. The apples are from one of our trees.

This is the first apple tart of the season. It's just sliced apples on a bed of ground hazelnuts. I glazed the apples with apricot preserves after the pie cooled. High-end cooks would have strained the preserves before glazing, but I left the apricot bits in.

You're the top

At the top of the Mont Saint-Michel is the abbey church. Its spire, topped with a gilded statue of Saint Michel, rises to 157 meters (515 feet) above the bay. The statue was removed and restored in 2016, then returned to its perch atop the abbey's spire.

I didn't like the color version, so here it is in black and white. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

I've started cutting the grass again. Yesterday I did the north forty as I planned and later cut the grass in the strip between our hedge and the road. Today I'll do the south forty, then it'll be time to gather the fallen apples so I can tackle the west forty, maybe on Thursday.

Looking down

Here's another view from the heights of the Mont Saint-Michel. What caught my eye was the little boat on the empty beach. From what I can tell, the building is la caserne des Fanils (the Fanils barracks) on the western side of the island.

The former military barracks called "Fanils," part of the western defensive wall. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

Now that the firewood is stacked, it's time to look to cutting the grass. I think I may do the north forty today. I don't have to pick up apples to cut that section. It's another of my mantras: One thing a day. I'll save the apples for another day.

But I may go out and look for a few good apples and make a tart. That would make two things today. Bonus! Most of the apples on the ground are bruised or partially picked at by birds searching for insects. There are a few good ones, though, not to mention those still on the trees.

Wood Pile Finale

Ken and I finished stacking our firewood Sunday morning. He stacked logs under the garage window while I continued stacking on the north side. The only thing left to do is to clean up the bark and small scraps in the driveway where the wood was dumped last week.

Where the logs were.

I made two rows on the north side, which has me puzzled. In the past it's been three rows. Even taking into account the stack that Ken made, it seems to me that we should have more wood. Maybe we got gypped? I don't know, but there's nothing we can do about it at this point. The wood is paid for and it didn't really cost very much (in the grand scheme of things). I'm sure we'll have enough logs for the season unless something strange happens with the weather. Knock on... um... wood.

Two rows stacked with some kindling sprinkled on top.

But anyway, the chore is done. Now it's time to think about cutting the grass again. But first, I have to pick up all the apples that have fallen from the trees. There's never a lack of yard work, eh?

Ken's stack next to the garage. That spot had to be cleaned out. We'll replant it with something next spring.

Wood Pile Progress

I spent about half an hour on Saturday morning moving logs. That's after a trip to the market and the vet's (nothing wrong with the pets, just picking up some dental chews and kibble). I think I got the back row done. I estimate there are at least two more rows and maybe some leftovers after that.

The pile is bigger than it looks in this photo.

Ken suggested that we pile up the extra logs around the corner under one of the garage windows (which is under the deck). So that's what we'll do. I have another small pile of leftover logs from last season under one of the maple trees out front. It will stay put. Those logs are under a tarp and I'll burn them first when the time comes.

One row is done, but it could take a little more if necessary. The towers are working. Those garbage cans are full of kindling.

It looks like the weather will cooperate by not raining until I get the stacking done. The rain won't hurt the logs, I just don't want to work in it. Three or four more days should do it. It feels good to know that we have firewood and a full tank of heating oil. We're ready for when the season changes.

Bois de chauffage

Our firewood was delivered on Thursday. The delivery was free, but we have to stack the wood ourselves. So, yesterday I spent some time preparing the space on the north side of the house where we stack it. I noticed that our one-plus cord of wood didn't contain as many half-rounds as previous deliveries. I normally use the half-round logs to build "towers" on each end of a row to hold the other logs in place. Without the towers, the logs wouldn't stack neatly and I couldn't stack it as high as I need to.

Four stères (one cord) of firewood, dumped in the driveway.

What to do? Then I noticed all the cut birch trunks from when we had those trees removed last year (they were dead and dying). I saved the trunks thinking that I could split and burn them. Then I actually tried to split them. I couldn't. It occurred to me that I could stack those heavy trunks to make towers. So far it seems to be working.

The large gray logs on the bottom are what's left of our apple trees. The new wood looks orange. I have a long way to go.

I got a start on stacking, but after moving those heavy birch trunks, I didn't have a lot of energy left. I'll continue stacking over the next few (or more) days until the deed is done.

Movin' on up

Slowly. It's a long, steep climb up from the town on the Mont Saint-Michel to the abbey complex at the top. The stone stairs can be hard on the feet and it's a good idea to take advantage of overlooks and benches for a rest along the way. It's probably a lot easier for the younger folks.

Taking a photo break on the way up. I was 32 years old. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

I don't remember going to the Mont Saint-Michel back in 1981-82, so this trip in 1992 was more than likely my first time there. As a reminder, I posted most of these photos a while back, mainly in 2007 (fifteen years ago, yikes!), in a smaller format. I'm taking this opportunity to re-work some of the images and post them again in a larger size.

The blues

I don't know why, but I thought this photo would look better in blue. It's taken from up on the Mont Saint-Michel, looking down on the patterns the receding tide makes in the mud below. I've been to the Mont Saint-Michel a couple of times over the years and posted some of those photos on the blog. If you're interested, click on the "mont saint michel" label in the sidebar or at the bottom of this post and scroll through.

I almost went green, but settled on blue. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

This morning it's chilly. I can feel a little September in the air. I'm dressed in long (sleep) pants, socks, a t-shirt, and a long-sleeved henley. Still, it's supposed to get up toward 28ºC (82ºF) this afternoon. We shall see. We're expecting a delivery of firewood some time later this morning. We ordered four stères (four cubic meters), just over a cord. The guy will deliver it and dump it in the driveway. Then Ken and I will have to stack it ourselves. It'll take a few days, weather permitting. Hopefully, we won't need to burn any until some time in October.

Fort National

This is a seventeenth century fort just outside the city of Saint-Malo in Brittany. It was built by the famous military architect, Vauban. I took this photo from the defensive wall that encloses the old city. When the tide comes in, the fort is only accessible by boat. At low tide, visitors can walk there.

Looks like this guy is getting out just in time. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

Only two weeks remain in this year's school summer vacation. The kids are scheduled to go back to class on Thursday the first of September. Our weekly shopping flyers are full of ads for back-to-school supplies. Time marches on.

Tasha Tuesday

Here we are one morning during our last heat wave. These days, when I'm taking photos during our walks, Tasha's leash is attached to my waist and she's never far from me. She ends up in many of the pictures I take. Not a bad thing.

Tasha and her shadow wait for me to take the picture.

It looks like I'm wearing bell bottoms. Perish the thought. They're old jeans that are a little baggy and the boot cut doesn't help. Who knows what fashion faux pas lurk in the hearts of men? The shadow knows.

Stick in the mud

This is the picturesque port of Pont-Aven on the Aven river in Brittany. It's a small anchorage for pleasure boats (but was once a small commercial port) on the river which is more or less an estuary and not far from the Atlantic. The tides empty the river inland stranding boats twice a day. As you can see, some boats stand upright with their keels sunk into the river bottom.

Low tide in Pont-Aven, Brittany. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

Pont-Aven is famous for being a destination for artists. In the 19th century, Paul Gauguin and other post-impressionist painters spent time there. It's also known for tasty butter cookies, les galettes de Pont-Aven. We bought a box while there.

Our air is much cooler now, although more humid than it has been. And it's overcast with an occasional rain shower. A pleasant change from the heat. I wonder how long it will last and if it will get hot again?

Il pleut !

It started with some distant thunder and lightning, nothing serious for us, in the wee hours this morning. Then I could hear drops hitting the roof windows. I got up and closed them as the rain became more steady. It's still raining at 07h00, and it's not going to be hot today. Yay!

Granville, Normandy. Digitized color slide, January 1992.

For lack of any new photos, here's a shot of the port in Granville on the Cotentin Peninsula in Normandy at low tide. The boats' keels sink into the mud.

La lune

The sky has been absolutely clear for about a week and we've been able to watch the moon wax to full and begin to wane. The nights are bright with moonlight while the stars fade into the background. I can just make out the Big Dipper and Casseopeia in the night sky, but that's about it. We expect clouds to move in later tonight/tomorrow morning, so the show will be over.

A little lunacy for your Saturday. Just past full.

Along with the clouds will come some welcome cooler temperatures. Until then, today will be another hot one.

Golden glow

The sun is blindingly bright as it rises. Walking out from the house is ok because my back is to the east. But coming home I'm facing east and the sun is nearly at eye level. There's no escaping it.

Looking east as the sunrises.

This is one of those vineyard parcels that was dug up a couple of years ago. Like the others, some of the grape vines have come back from roots. Otherwise, the field is filled in with wildflowers and tall grass.