Halloween

So here we are at the end of an eerily warm October and, as if on cue, the forecast for the first week of November is for a cool-down to more seasonable temperatures. It's time to get the last of the potted plants indoors for the winter. November is also when I put away the deck table and chairs and clean and cover the grill. And there are more leaves to rake. Always leaves.

Another view of our hamlet from out in the vineyard at sunrise.

Halloween is not really celebrated here in France. The media try to hype it up each year, but I don't think that French people in general are interested. My theory is that most folks are on vacation and traveling around the Toussaint holiday and can't be bothered. And tourism is probably better for the economy than costumes and candy. Just as well, as far as I'm concerned.

It's still a mess, but there's less of it

This is where I am with the wisteria right now. A lot of the bulk has been cut away. But, as you can see, there are many tangled and errant branches that need to be pruned out. That's more ladder work and I'm wary. I don't want to push my luck.

It's better than it is, wasn't it?

The animules seem to be handling the time change well. We've been slowly getting up later (and staying up later) over the past week to ease them into a new breakfast time.

Gullies

The big rain we had early last week carved some pretty deep gullies in the dirt road out back. There are drainage ditches on either side of the road, but they're not enough to carry the water that comes down in a heavy storm. So, as water does, it finds the steepest way down, loosening the gravel and deepening the gullies. Eventually the water finds one of several stream beds that lead down to the river.

The town will probably fill these in when spring rolls around.

Or warm trend continues. I finished trimming the wisteria yesterday and cut the grass on the strips between our hedges and the road. I also moved a small pile of firewood left over from last year to the main log pile on the north side. Little jobs, but they make a difference.

Balmy

We're under a zone of high pressure that's blocking weather systems coming in from the North Atlantic while pumping warm air up from North Africa. It's the same kind of situation that brings us the heat waves we experience in summer. This is much milder, but it's unusual this time of year. We don't know whether to enjoy it or be worried. Maybe a little bit of both.

Tuesday's sunrise. This vineyard parcel was recently plowed. It will be replanted next spring.

I did take advantage to work in the vegetable garden yesterday. It's mostly cleaned up and ready for winter, whenever that happens. Today, I hope to finish trimming the wisteria.

Warm

We're having a heat wave. Our central heating hasn't come on in weeks. We don't need fires in the wood stove. The grass is growing faster than I can cut it (I mowed the south forty yesterday). They're talking about it on the news. Well, of course they are. They have to talk about something.

Grass is growing like crazy out in the vineyard parcels, too.

My plan for today is to get the vegetable garden cleaned up and tucked away for winter. Tomorrow I plan to finish trimming back the wisteria. I also want to cut back the dead oregano to make room for spring growth and mow the west forty. Morning dew makes the grass too wet for a.m. cutting, so I wait to do that in the afternoon. There's no lack of things to do while the weather's good.

Room of mush

According to Wikipedia, the word mushroom comes from the Old French mousseron, having something to do with moss (mousse). This one (well, there are two in the photo) came up in our yard this week beneath a tall conifer. We don't pick them, and we certainly don't eat them. Our culinary champignons (mushrooms) come from the market.

Or is it a toadstool?

The French word champignon apparently comes to French from Latin, referencing a product of the countryside (la campagne) or the fields (les champs).

The walnut tree

It's called un noyer in French, walnuts are noix. A grove or orchard of walnut trees is une noiseraie. I took this photo about a year ago of the lone noyer out among the vineyard parcels. I don't think I've ever posted it. Interesting fact: the town across the river from us is called Noyers-sur-Cher. Walnut Trees on the Cher.

Its bark is worse than its... oh, never mind.

We did get out yesterday morning and picked up the apples, so that's done. I also did a little raking in the garden path where leaves gather. The wind kicked up after lunch and I didn't feel like cutting grass, so there's still that to do.