The 'Hood

If you've been reading here for a while, you know that our house is part of a tiny hamlet outside of town. There are nine houses up here at the end of our road on the heights above the river, just where the vineyards begin.

Red roses at the end of our road.

Four houses of the nine are currently occupied full-time. One is temporarily empty because its last occupant recently passed away (he was ninety-six years old). The others are vacation houses owned by people who live in and around Paris, except for one which is owned by people from Blois, about thirty miles north.

What should now be a familiar sight: the back of our house.

It's a quiet place, but there's always some activity. Many neighbors have gardeners who come and work for them. Others (like us) do their own gardening. Some of the elderly neighbors have health care providers coming by daily for therapy or injections. A couple of our neighbors have regular cleaning ladies.

Then there is the constant traffic of tractors as the grape growers prune, spray, or plow up weeds. Sometimes military jets zoom overhead. Often, in summer, there is a hot-air balloon or two floating by. The bread lady comes by five times a week, and there is a butcher and a frozen foods vendor that drive by once a week.

A stone storage building in the vineyard.

And there are always several cars a day whose drivers are lost and end up turning around and going back when they get to the end of the paved road.

Sleepy hamlet, hive of activity.

Vegetable Garden Tour

I know you've been waiting for it. So here it is. The June Vegetable Garden Tour! It's still early in the year, but here, for your viewing pleasure, is a sampling of the vegetable garden so far. And turn on your sound 'cause there's a little narration.

My apologies if you can't see everything, but compressing the movie for the web makes it smaller. The eggplants are still little, so they're hard to see. They should get much larger and lusher as the next few weeks go by.

We've already got some tiny tomatoes, and most of the tomato plants have blossoms already. If the weather cooperates, we should have a good crop starting in July. After I made the movie, I went back and watered everything. It looks better wet than dry. Oh well.

This makes me think that I should do an update video in a few weeks. What do y'all think?

The Shadow Of Your Well

Well, my well, actually. The days this spring have more sunny than not, a condition we welcome with open arms. The garden is loving it, the dog is loving it, and we are loving it.

Our real fake well casts a shadow on the walkway.

We've both been to visit the doctor for our twice annual checkups. There is nothing worrisome to report, thank goodness. And there's even a bright spot. I asked the doctor about colonoscopies (thank you Katie Couric), since I will turn fifty this year. He told me that they're not routine any more and that unless you have a family history of colon cancer, or some troubling symptoms, you don't need one.

Instead, there's a new test that's done using a stool sample. So much less invasive, so much less costly, and while it's still a relatively new procedure, he thinks it makes much more sense. And so do I! I should be getting a letter and questionnaire in the mail sometime in the next six months telling me all about it.

Right along with my letter from the A.A.R.P. If they can find me in France.

Now aren't you glad I told you all of that?

They Didn't Pave Paradise

But they still put up a parking lot. Our neighbors' family had a big party over this past weekend (it was a three-day holiday weekend). They come from miles around, mostly from Blois, some from Paris, and some from places like Lille and Geneva.

This is a common sight from our deck during the summer months.

They had put up a big tent with tables under it for the meals, did a lot of bbq'ing and eating and dancing and playing. Our neighbors' kids are all in their forties and fifties, with the grandchildren and great-grandchildren ranging in age from newborn to their twenties.

We were invited over for drinks on Sunday afternoon, and it was fun to get reacquainted with those of the kids we don't see very often. They're a very nice and generous family, and have been warm and welcoming toward us for the past six years.

The parties last long into the night (we know, we've been to a few), but we hardly ever hear them!

The Queen Of Sticks

May and June are high tick season out here in the French countryside. And, since Callie loves running through the tall grass on her twice daily walks, she comes home with many of the little buggers hidden in her coat.

The tick tool.

Sometimes we see them crawling on her white fur before they attach. We can pick them off of her easily and flush them down the toilet. But often, the ticks attach and bloat up as they feed. Yuck.

When we find an attached tick, we use a little tool that the we got at the vet's to pull it off. It's the greatest thing because the tick comes off whole, head and all. Nothing gets left behind. No fuss, no muss. And the dog is used to the process and remains calm.

Instructions for using the tick tool.

Of course, we use Frontline every month. We've never seen a flea on Callie (nor Collette before her) since we started using Frontline. And as for ticks, well, it doesn't keep them away. Instead, it poisons the dog's blood and kills the tick as it feeds. The tick then drops off the dog, dead, unable to reproduce.

The Queen of Sticks picked up some ticks all on a summer's day;
The Knave of Sticks, he spied the ticks and fainted clean away;
The King of Sticks picked off the ticks and tossed them out the door;
The Knave of Sticks outwitted the ticks: Frontline settled the score.

Sec

Dry. It hasn't rained in a week and the garden is finally getting the chance to dry out a bit. We had 96 mm (just under four inches) of rain during the month of May, which is well over the local average of about 60 mm. Things were starting to get a little soggy out there.

Some of last years plants, still standing after winter.

Right now we're having a series of crisp, sunny, and dry days. Heaven! But this being France, we know the rain will be back soon enough. Still, the garden and the plants are enjoying the respite.

So are we!

Twenty-Six Years

Today is our anniversary. Or what we count as our anniversary. On June 1, 1983, Ken and I signed our first lease together and moved into an apartment on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C.

Ken (left) and me in 1987, just after moving to California.

In 1986 we loaded up the truck and we moved to Beverly. San Francisco, that is. Fog. Earthquakes. We stayed nearly eighteen years there, had what passes for careers in our lives, then cashed out to move to France in 2003. And here we are.

Twenty-six years, nine cars, five apartments, three houses, a swarm of earthquakes, a tank of fish, and two dogs later, here we are. And here we'll stay. For now, anyway.

I think I'll open something bubbly.