Lightning

Last evening a thunderstorm brushed by us. We got no rain, but we saw a lot of lightning and heard the thunder to our west. A breeze kicked up and I opened the loft windows for some ventilation. It sure felt good. As the storm moved away from us toward the north, we lost the sound of thunder, but the lightning was flashing fast and furious in the distance for several hours. It was amazing. I saw stars in the sky between the lightning flashes.

Tasha noses around in a little pine cone desert between a vineyard parcel and some woods.

Tasha Tuesday

Here she is on her morning walk last Friday; ever vigilant, keeping her eyes on the birds and watching for deer. And, of course, she inspected that tractor when we got close.

Tasha watches some birds as we approach the walnut tree and the tractor.

Yesterday was very warm, and sleeping last night was difficult. I slept for about an hour, maybe two, at the beginning, but was wide awake around midnight. The combination of the heat and my restless legs kept me getting up and down all night. Two fans running in the loft helped some with the heat. Today we're expecting a high of 34ºC (about 93ºF) and a little less than that tomorrow. All the windows are open this morning to let some cool air indoors. The sun's not up yet as I type this; sunrise happens at 06h31 today.

Holy vineyard, Batman!

Or maybe that should be "holey" vineyard. There are holes in the vineyard parcels out back, places where a grape vine has died or is dying. In some cases, the grower will transplant another vine to fill in the "hole." In other cases, the holes will be left, sometimes signaling that an entire parcel will be dug up and replaced in the not so distant future.

A dead vine among the living. The vine behind it doesn't look very good, though.

Our new weed-eater arrived on Saturday afternoon. I assembled it on Sunday, charged up the batteries (it's a cordless battery-powered model) and took it for a test drive. So far, I'm very happy with it. Those pesky corners and other spots that the lawnmower can't navigate will finally get trimmed. It's not for big jobs, though. That would take a débroussailleuse (a heavy duty brush cutter) and this is only a coupe-bordure (a smaller string trimmer or "strimmer").

The light of day

One of the main features of this house, and one that made it attractive to us, was how bright the rooms are thanks to very large windows. Even on the dark days, we get enough light to brighten our spirits. Since we arrived, we've replaced most of the windows, converting them from typical French-style (opening into the room) to sliding windows that take up no space when open.

Olympic tennis on tv. The day was overcast and dark, but the living room felt light and bright.

I found some Olympic tennis to watch on Saturday on one of the streaming sports channels we get with our satellite package. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to watch a lot more in the next weeks. We're looking at another heat wave building in during the week with high temperatures in the low to mid 30sC (around 90ºF). Sleeping may be uncomfortable, but we do have a couple of fans.

Friday's sunrise

This is looking back toward our hamlet from out among the vines at sunrise on Friday. Guess what! This morning the rain is back. It's not predicted to last long, and then we're in for another mini heat wave.

Fields of grass, Queen Anne's lace, and, of course, grape vines.

I watched the entire Olympics opening ceremony last night, including some of the pre-show events. It finished at about 23h30. Parts of it were peculiar, but most of it was amazing. Especially considering that it rained (in Paris) during most of it. But the rain didn't dampen the athletes' spirits or diminish the energy of the light shows and dance numbers. I was confused at times during the parade of nations. I didn't know that Puerto Rico was a nation. Same for the US Virgin Islands. And I lost count of how many nations' names begin with the letter "m." Quite a few, it turns out.

Curiously, the parade (on boats down the Seine) seemed to be organized alphabetically in French, but the flags identifying each nation were in English. It was a little confusing to see "Chad" among the T's. In French, it's spelled "Tchad," but the flag said "Chad." There were a lot of curiosities like that.

Another machine

This one is not a vineyard machine. It belongs to a company that does terrassement (earthworks). The work they're doing now is a continuation of the filling of the ravine out by the walnut tree. I thought they were done until the other day when the guys started hauling more truckloads of dirt to the site. And this half bulldozer/half claw thing was brought in.

Good old Caterpillar. The green sticker is the terrassement company's logo.

The Olympics opening ceremony happens this evening. The weather forecast is not great, but it doesn't look all that bad, either. Time will tell. I don't know if we'll watch live or wait for the news channels to do their thing.

Wildflower

I'm not sure what this is called. It looks like wild carrot, but I don't think it is. But it could be related. At any rate, it's pretty and there is a lot of it out among the grape vines.

Wildflower.

The Olympic frenzy is ramping up. That's almost all that we'll see on tv for the next three weeks. Some events are already happening before the opening ceremony on Friday. I'm hoping for lots of nice pictures of Paris.

Grape leaves

Newly emerging leaves explore the air space above the grape vines out back. Their predecessors got too unruly and had to be shorn off. These, too, will likely meet the shearer as the season continues.

Grape vine tendrils and new leaves.

The rear-view mirror on our 24 year-old Peugeot fell off the other day. So Ken's dealing with getting it reattached. The car still runs fine. LOL. We're expecting delivery of a weed-eater (strimmer) this weekend. If it works as we hope it will, it will come in handy getting to some the places the riding mower can't.

Tasha Tuesday

Over the last couple of weeks, and since our mini heat wave, we've been able to enjoy sitting out on the deck. Also, grilling. Tasha likes to snooze out there, but only if the window is open so she can listen to what's going on inside the house.

Tasha got up from her nap to see what I was up to.

It's cooler now, but not as chilly as it was before the heat wave. Another week or so and it will be August. Summer is fleeting. Even more so than usual this year, it seems. What's it feel like where you are?

Tiny daisies

Little wild daisies like these grow here and there among the grape vines. Also out there are wild carrot (Queen Ann's lace) and wild chicory. These, among others, are the summer wildflowers that are typical in our region.

A patch of little daisies.

There's a lot going on and off in this summer season. Bastille Day has come and gone. The Tour de France ended over the weekend. The Paris Olympics start up this coming weekend. Everyone's in vacation mode, it seems. The weather has calmed a bit and we all breathing a little easier.

The last one

This is the last of the vineyard fogger/sprayer photos. The Image of the Week is also from the machine, so that will be with us for a little while.

Another nozzle? I'm unsure.

Storms came through last night as predicted, but the all went around us. I saw some lightning and heard a little very distant thunder. I don't think it rained here at all. The next week is predicted to be very pleasant. Yay!

More machinery and a mini heat wave

I'm not complaining. I am NOT complaining. It's hot outside. We reached around thirty degrees yesterday and are expecting pretty much the same today. Then comes la dégringolade. Temperatures are expected to plummet as we move into next week, with thunderstorms and rain in the forecast. When that happens, I will be complaining. Oh, it won't be as bad as all that. I hope.

Nozzles. Or aliens from outer space.

Here's the third in my series of photos of the grape vine sprayer that was parked out back for a couple of nights. I think these are some of the spray nozzles. Have a good weekend!

Machinery and the mosquito man

Here's another shot of the vineyard sprayer that's been working out back over the last few days. At least, I think it's the same one I've seen plying the vine rows recently. It was parked out there (under the walnut tree) for a couple of nights, but now it's gone. Yesterday, Tasha and I had to navigate around the moving sprayer so as not to A) get run over, and 2) have to walk through a cloud of chemicals.

Vineyard sprayer.

That reminded me of a Wanda Sykes bit we recently saw on Netflix: The "mosquito man." Ms. Sykes hilariously recalled how, when she was a kid, she and the other kids in her neighborhood would follow the sprayer truck that was part of their local mosquito eradication program, running through the clouds of what likely included malathion and who knows what other chemical insecticides. "It's the mosquito man!" they would gleefully yell when the truck appeared. I, too, remember the "mosquito man" from when I was a kid, although I don't think we called him that. And we, too, would follow behind, running through the clouds of insecticide. Good times! Cough, cough.

The elephant in the vineyard

Or is it something out of "Mad Max?" Well, it's neither. It's part of a sprayer tractor that's been parked out under the walnut tree for a couple of days. From what I understand, the spray is a copper sulfate concoction known commonly as bouillie Bordelaise. It's used to help prevent fungus and mold from developing on the grape vine leaves. It's also used in home vegetable gardens for the same thing.

It looks like a mechanical elephant, or a not-so-wooley mammoth, to me.

I got out and cut the grass yesterday afternoon. It was a nice ride, even if a bit bumpy in spots. There's a small parcel left to do later this morning or this afternoon, depending on the dew situation. Then I'll be nearly out of gas, so a trip to the filling station (lol) is coming up in a week or so, before the next mowing day.

Grapes

The next few days of warm, if not hot, dry weather should be good for the grapes out back. The bunches have formed and the individual grapes are starting to plump up.

Grapes!

Today might be the day for grass cutting. I'll look to see how much dew there is before deciding whether to cut this morning or this afternoon. Or whether to put it off for one more day.

Look at that "S" car go!

I know. How many snail jokes are there in the world, I wonder? There's the one where two snails climb onto a tortoise's back. One snail says to the other, "Hold on, Sam, here we go!" If you know any others, feel free to post them in the comment section. You are allowed to do it anonymously.

Quick! Get out of the way!

The forecast is holding for a nice few days ahead. I will pick one of them for cutting the grass.

The daisy patch

They're in full bloom now. These daisies were here when we moved in twenty-one years ago. They come up every spring and die back every fall. The only real maintenance I do is to cut the dead flower stalks down after the bloom. Sometimes I weed the plot and yes, there are brambles trying to invade. 

Part of the daisy patch.

Our neighborhood was full over the holiday weekend. Every house (there are nine in our hamlet) was occupied and many of those occupants included out of town family, house guests, and party goers (we were invited over the road for drinks and nibbles on Saturday evening). One of our neighbors rented the Air B&B two doors down for her overflow guests. There were a lot of people we've never seen before walking (some with dogs), cycling, or jogging past our house and out into the vineyard. Tasha had a bark fest. The weather was chilly, but mostly dry. Most of the people are gone again now, others will be leaving today.

Le quatorze juillet

Happy Bastille Day!

The north side

Nobody sees this side of our house, unless they walk around to the north forty. Our deck wraps around from the east side and becomes a narrow overhang on the north. It's too small to be useful and I often wonder why it was done this way, except that it makes washing that living room window very easy. And it provides a protected spot below to store firewood.

The unglamorous north façade.

This cool, even cold, weather is really bugging me. The temperature on this mid-July morning is a crisp 14ºC or so, mid 50s F. We expected this kind of temperature when we lived in San Francisco's fog belt. But it feels weird here.

Our village held it's July 14th fireworks last night. I watched from the north side window in the loft (not visible in this photo). Boom!

Summer vines

The grape vines out back are lush this year. It was a very wet spring. Growers trim the vines to help concentrate their energies on fruit production rather than leaf production. And also to aerate the vines so molds and fungi can be kept at bay. Of course, I don'l know any of this; it's just assumption based on observation.

Recently trimmed grape vines.

Sometime during the night a thunderstorm moved through. I barely woke up, but it wasn't thunder that woke me. It was rain pounding down on the roof punctuated by the sound of Ken shutting windows. By the time he got the windows closed, the storm hand moved on and the rain came to an abrupt halt. The good news: no leaks in the roof, as far a we can tell.

Popcorn clouds

I thought I made that up. Turns out, it's a real thing. Popcorn clouds. Who knew?

Popcorn clouds at sunrise. I was really hoping to see a jet airliner, but no luck.

We're enjoying a relatively warm spell. Not hot. Warm. Still, not unpleasant at all. Happy Thursday!

Trimming the verge

I don't think Americans use this word the way other English speakers do. We use it more in the figurative sense to mean "the point beyond which 'x' will happen," like "I was on the verge of loosing my cool." The word means "edge" or "border" in its literal sense. Like "trimming the verge" in a garden or park, the border or edge of a planting bed.

As my grandfather used to say, "It's better than it is, wasn't it?"

That's what happened here recently. As the woods become overgrown, their edge gets closer and closer to the vineyard parcel. So, every once in a while, someone cuts back the verge. The French have a long tradition of working to control the landscape, often with spectacular results, as in château gardens.

Tasha Tuesday

In recent years, plowing between vine rows has become a preferred method of weed control in the vineyard parcels around us. Unfortunately for us, the practice makes walking between those rows unpleasant, even difficult and dangerous. There are a few parcels, however, where the growers mow the tall grasses that grow between the rows instead of plowing and the ground stays relatively level and pleasant to walk on. This is one of those parcels.

Tasha enjoys the grassy spaces between grape vine rows.

I don't know what makes a grower choose one method over the other. They're certainly not obliged to maintain a pleasant hiking environment for those of us who walk out there. I wonder if they would prefer us to stay on the roads and tractor paths and out of the vine rows altogether, although no one has ever said anything to us about that.

Tasha likes to walk between the vines. She finds it much more interesting than the rocky dirt road, and it's probably more comfortable for her little paw pads. So I'm happy that there are still a few places where we can do it.

Let there be grapes

It looks like there are lots of grape bunches out there. Again, probably a result of the very wet spring we had. I'm not a grape grower, but I suspect some hot and dry weather would be welcomed as the grapes start to mature.

Young grapes on the vine.

The kids are out of school for the summer. Bastille Day is coming right up. The Tour de France is well under way. The Olympics in Paris are just around the corner. All we need now is some summery weather.

Saturday's sunrise

This is July? This morning we have 11ºC (about 50ºF) outside. Inside, we're one degree (celsius) from the central heating coming on. I'm wearing two shirts and long sleeves. And I keep hearing about 100ºF-plus temperatures in the US. I certainly would not like that kind of heat here (been there, done that). But, wtf? This is nuts.

Looking toward the northeast on a (chilly) summer morning.

The good news, at least according to one of the weather sites I look at daily, is that this coming week should see some more summer-like weather. Let's hope so.

Ouch!

These are some of the thorny blackberry brambles, commonly called ronces in French, that grow in our hedges. This year they've been most aggressive, taking advantage of a very wet spring to advance into new territory. Each spring, Ken goes out with gloves and pruning shears and tries to cut the worst of them back. I don't know of any way to actually eliminate them short of burning down the hedge. Even then, I'd bet that the brambles would survive.

Cut ronces on the ground. You can see some more growing out of the hedge in the top left and right of the photo.

If they're not cut back, they will reach out into the yard looking for new places to spread. They're a danger to anyone who gets close, which I often do while mowing. Their thorns are strong and sharp and they can pierce clothing and still draw blood. They're a scourge! And their fruit isn't even good to eat.

The bee's knees

I believe you can actually see them in this shot of a bee visiting one of our artichoke flowers.

A lucky shot! Even without a macro lens.

We had rain and drizzle on and off most of the day on Thursday. I got no outdoor work done. As compensation, Ken made a delicious fried rice dish for lunch. Maybe we'll be able to do a couple of things outside today. Meanwhile, mole hills continue to appear in the north forty. Ugh.

A choke of a different color

The volunteer artichoke out in the vegetable garden plot is blooming. Instead of the deep blue/purple flowers I'm used to, its flowers are very nearly white.

Just a hint of blue.

Yesterday, I spent a good hour hacking at the big forsythia, something I do every few years. It gets too big and unruly and it's impossible to mow around. There's a little more to do, but it's minor. The cut branches are now piled in the vegetable garden plot for the summer. The leaves will dry and drop and I'll dispose of the branches themselves in the fall.

This morning the weather is lousy. We have 15ºC (about 60ºF) and drizzle. On the bright side, it's preferable to a hurricane.

Fallow year

It's official. No vegetable garden for us this year. We never heard back from the landscape guy about tilling up our plot (we can't do it ourselves any more). Now it's too late to plant; the seedlings have died. So, the garden plot will lie fallow this year, sort of. I'm still mowing it.

I left the volunteer artichoke alone. The oregano patch (right) is starting to bloom.

We're thinking now about how we can change our approach to the garden. Maybe by relocating it. Definitely by downsizing it (we've already started that). And likely by finding another gardener who'd be more reliable and responsive.* I'd hate to give up on backyard tomatoes and squash.

*He's always been reliable about the hedge trimming and taking down trees. Big jobs are more attractive than small jobs I guess. But he's the one who offered to till for us. He did it last year. I could understand if he's swamped (as it were) because of all the wet weather we've had this spring. Maybe he's lost employees. Maybe he's gone out of business. We haven't heard anything.

Holy moley

The moles are back. Not in great numbers, but there are two areas where fresh hills are appearing. This one is in the north forty, the other is in the west. They're not a big problem, but the hills are unsightly.

They kind of look like cow patties. They're just dirt.

Yesterday I did some trimming, cutting off most of the low-hanging branches on the apple trees. They tend to slap me in the face when I run under them with the mower. And the apples are getting big enough to hurt when they bump my head. So, off they went!

Armagnac

I treated myself to a shot of armagnac on Saturday after lunch. Armagnac is a brandy made by distilling white wine and aging the result in oak barrels, much like its cousin, cognac. Often, brandies are served in a bowl-like glass called a snifter. I guess that helps to develop and capture the brandy's aroma, particularly the smokiness of the oak. I served this one in a shot glass. But don't gulp it down in one go. Brandy is meant to be sipped and savored slowly, and especially after a meal. Brandies are often referred to as digestifs. That is, they are believed to help with digestion. Works for me!

A nice shot of armagnac on the deck after lunch.