Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Monday 1 October 2007
Since we came back to Normandy last Monday afternoon (once the window at Saint-Denis had been finally and properly mended) there have been the usual house and garden catching-up jobs, the end of summer and the beginning of autumn.
The week started fine and warm, but then one afternoon there was a terrible hailstorm after lunch just as I was getting the washing in, and it got very dark and cold and we had to put the heating on in the middle of the afternoon. The mornings are getting darker too; it’s now barely light when we wake up at around 7.45.
The roses are all over and the hydrangeas almost all gone too; the last three are in a vase in the grande pièce. The big flower bed still has some colour in it; several large clumps of tall mauve asters rather like large Michaelmas daisies are still going very strong and there are a few of the very determined nameless yellow flowers too. Yesterday I planted miniature daffodils and narcissi in the four urns by the steps of the wine cellar - I always love that time when you can get rid of the straggling end-of-summer plants and leave the pots all tidy with a neat cover of dark earth, almost as though someone has been put to bed under there to sleep until spring. There are some left over which I want to put in a terra cotta trough brought from Cambridge.
Although we have now eaten the last of our potatoes (a lot of the crop rotted because of the wet early summer) we are still eating our own lettuces, both red and green, and have harvested lots of wonderful onions, and two jars full of dried Italian beans. There are still little Spanish peppers to come, always lots of beetroot as usual (N is making beetroot soup again as I write, even though the freezer is full of it; I think we shall have to start eating compulsory beetroot soup at least once a week.) We had turnips and carrots for lunch yesterday, and our one aubergine together with some other roasted vegetables and pasta last week.
On Saturday N cooked a wonderful dish for dinner, a recipe from a French chef’s TV programme inspired by some fish we found in the supermarket - small pieces of various kinds of fish for cooking quickly in a frying pan. Its full title was Méli-mélo de Poisson au Citron Vert and it included thin strips of carrot and courgette, cream and the juice and zest of limes; the kitchen was full of the smell! It looked and tasted absolutely wonderful, just the kind of thing I would have ordered in a restaurant.
Yesterday we picked our apples - after having thought there were none at all on the tree this year, we began noticing surreptitious large round green ones here and there and managed with the aid of the wonderful telescopic tool to pick a whole basketful, a nice manageable amount. They are much larger and rounder than last year, almost as though they were from an entirely different tree; N thinks it is perhaps due to his careful pruning. We have put them carefully spaced out on sheets of paper on the shelves in the first outhouse.
I have made another batch of marrow and ginger jam, using up two giant marrows which were waiting patiently in the outhouse. We also had Marrow Pie again for the last time this season - no more marrows or potatoes.
The swallows have definitely left without saying goodbye; we think they probably went while we were away at the end of August. The car and garage are much cleaner and N is still threatening to remove the offending nest.
After the hailstorm last week the new doorstep outside the verandah was still very wet, and N decided this was because the drainpipe beside it was faulty and overflowing. He then had fun designing and building an ingenious system of pipes to divert the water, taking the rain from the verandah roof along and under the flowerbed next to it and, by means of a series of carefully drilled holes, watering the rhododendrons. We have received a large estimate from Monsieur A for taking the rain from the other down pipe (currently just going into the ground) out to the road via pipes constructed under the garden; N has avoided the need for this by means of a similar under flowerbed pipe at the other end of the rhododendrons. We are still waiting for the bill for the drain work he and Guillaume did two weeks ago, and will then raise the question of the heating service and the replacement trap on the terrace, both of which have been so far ignored!
We’ve not heard from either Monsieur B the TV engineer or Monsieur P the carpenter, but are letting them know we will be going away in a few days. This is our trip to Plymouth to see Bobbie and Guthrie, which we are both very much looking forward to, a drive to Caen then boat to Portsmouth, and a drive along the other western part of the south coast which we didn’t visit on our trip in May.
Over the last few weeks N has been getting in touch with an old university friend with whom he’d had no contact for years, and who lives in Bristol, so there is a possibility of our going there for a visit while we are in Plymouth. Dates are currently being discussed, and the idea of going by train instead of car.
Now that the drain pipe work is all finished, N has returned to plastering the outhouse - he reminds me a little of Mr Toad, of whom we are currently reading on Sunday afternoons, as he switches from one new enthusiasm to another, forgetting all about the one before; from brick-laying to carpentry to plastering to plumbing and then back to plastering.
On Thursday afternoon we went shopping in Bernay for the first time in a long time; it was so long since we had been to Vive le Jardin! that all the garden furniture which I was still thinking about had long since been put away and preparations for Christmas were in full swing: the building of several large set pieces, and piles of decorations, and crèche scenes ready to go on display. We did manage to get bulbs however; my little daffodils and narcissi and N’s bluebells which have now been planted in the grass near the birch tree in hopes of a great swathe next spring. On the same afternoon N got all his pipes, yet more plaster and various plastering accessories from Monsieur Bricolage, I bought more jam jars there as we had almost run out, and also - while N was choosing all his things - went along to Petite Italie and bought lots of lovely things to eat, including some wonderful gorgonzola just delivered from Rungis that morning. (Rungis is the great wholesale food market just outside Paris.)
Tuesday 2 October 2007
It rained very hard last night and this morning and N was variously pleased to see that his under flowerbed watering system was working well - water gushing out at intervals at the foot of the rhododendrons, and not pleased to find that water was still coming in under the verandah door, despite his new step. He got round this, at least temporarily, by putting yet another layer of wooden threshold plank in place, and drilling a deep hole in the step just where most of the water collected, so that it can drain away down into the garden. I think that (a) this is the kind of weather we have to expect in Normandy and (b) the water in the verandah problem won’t be solved until we have a new door with a storm board in place across the bottom.
Our village newspaper shop (also very useful for cards, sellotape, stationery, dry cleaning and photo developing) has moved further down the road to new premises in between the traiteur and the bank. Its new doors and windows were being installed yesterday, but I haven’t visited it yet. I shall miss seeing their posters outside advertising gossip magazines and their tales of tragedy, horror, illness, death and disappointment. (I could still see them if I walked that far of course, but the old shop was in between the house and the boulangerie, so I used to see them every day.) I have no idea yet what will happen to the old shop, but I should think the traiteur will get more trade.
I have recently taken up knitting again, after a gap of about 25 years; I had been looking at knitting kits when I was with Madeleine in Paris earlier in the year, and then she found me a free kit in London to knit for charity. I was pleased to find that I hadn’t forgotten how to do it at all, and now that it is all over and posted off to the charity in question, am thinking about embroidery again. The tiny cross stitch kit I was working on while at Simone’s house last spring is really very tiny, only possible at home under a good lamp I think, so have started on a larger kit I found for 1 euro at a brocante sale, which has the advantage of being entirely red thread on white cloth. A classic sampler style, square with letters, numbers and little pictures. I am finding it just as addictive as I always used to, and think I shall take it with me while away visiting next week. And once it’s finished I know exactly the shop in L’Aigle where I can get it framed!
Wednesday 3 October 2007
Yesterday afternoon I made French Onion Soup (complete with thick slices of bread and toasted cheese) partly to use some of our wonderful onions and partly to get some use out of the « Gratinée » soup bowls we bought at the antiques barn some months ago. The best recipe I could find was in Delia Smith, and it took a long time, despite slicing all the onions in the food processor. The result was very good however, and the evening suitably cold and wet, which made it worth while, the sort of evening when you need hot warming soup. There is a lot left over for the freezer, and can be used when we next have guests on a cold day.
N had picked all the little Spanish peppers, and I tried to cook them as best I could in the way we had eaten them in Barcelona, roasted in oil and salt, but when we tasted them we got a shock, they were very hot and spicy indeed, more like chillies! One each was more than enough, and we both needed large glasses of water and emergency servings of ice cream. So the seeds N bought - although they looked like what we had eaten - must have been something quite different. I have put the rest of them, roasted, in a large jar and covered them in olive oil, like a sort of home-made Italian antipasti. Perhaps they will be OK in small quantities with ham or salami…..
Today I have been to the village traiteur, where there was talk of the new paper shop next door; they seemed to think it was working quite well, despite being just a converted house and rather small and dark. I was interested to hear another customer saying to the proprietress that she thought it would bring more trade to the traiteur, as it was just what I thought. Another customer was ordering a dish for Saturday, and asking for advice saying « Je suis troublée dans mon menu » which amused me; literally « I am troubled in my menu » or « I’m having trouble with my menu. » I know the feeling.
Since we came back to Normandy last Monday afternoon (once the window at Saint-Denis had been finally and properly mended) there have been the usual house and garden catching-up jobs, the end of summer and the beginning of autumn.
The week started fine and warm, but then one afternoon there was a terrible hailstorm after lunch just as I was getting the washing in, and it got very dark and cold and we had to put the heating on in the middle of the afternoon. The mornings are getting darker too; it’s now barely light when we wake up at around 7.45.
The roses are all over and the hydrangeas almost all gone too; the last three are in a vase in the grande pièce. The big flower bed still has some colour in it; several large clumps of tall mauve asters rather like large Michaelmas daisies are still going very strong and there are a few of the very determined nameless yellow flowers too. Yesterday I planted miniature daffodils and narcissi in the four urns by the steps of the wine cellar - I always love that time when you can get rid of the straggling end-of-summer plants and leave the pots all tidy with a neat cover of dark earth, almost as though someone has been put to bed under there to sleep until spring. There are some left over which I want to put in a terra cotta trough brought from Cambridge.
Although we have now eaten the last of our potatoes (a lot of the crop rotted because of the wet early summer) we are still eating our own lettuces, both red and green, and have harvested lots of wonderful onions, and two jars full of dried Italian beans. There are still little Spanish peppers to come, always lots of beetroot as usual (N is making beetroot soup again as I write, even though the freezer is full of it; I think we shall have to start eating compulsory beetroot soup at least once a week.) We had turnips and carrots for lunch yesterday, and our one aubergine together with some other roasted vegetables and pasta last week.
On Saturday N cooked a wonderful dish for dinner, a recipe from a French chef’s TV programme inspired by some fish we found in the supermarket - small pieces of various kinds of fish for cooking quickly in a frying pan. Its full title was Méli-mélo de Poisson au Citron Vert and it included thin strips of carrot and courgette, cream and the juice and zest of limes; the kitchen was full of the smell! It looked and tasted absolutely wonderful, just the kind of thing I would have ordered in a restaurant.
Yesterday we picked our apples - after having thought there were none at all on the tree this year, we began noticing surreptitious large round green ones here and there and managed with the aid of the wonderful telescopic tool to pick a whole basketful, a nice manageable amount. They are much larger and rounder than last year, almost as though they were from an entirely different tree; N thinks it is perhaps due to his careful pruning. We have put them carefully spaced out on sheets of paper on the shelves in the first outhouse.
I have made another batch of marrow and ginger jam, using up two giant marrows which were waiting patiently in the outhouse. We also had Marrow Pie again for the last time this season - no more marrows or potatoes.
The swallows have definitely left without saying goodbye; we think they probably went while we were away at the end of August. The car and garage are much cleaner and N is still threatening to remove the offending nest.
After the hailstorm last week the new doorstep outside the verandah was still very wet, and N decided this was because the drainpipe beside it was faulty and overflowing. He then had fun designing and building an ingenious system of pipes to divert the water, taking the rain from the verandah roof along and under the flowerbed next to it and, by means of a series of carefully drilled holes, watering the rhododendrons. We have received a large estimate from Monsieur A for taking the rain from the other down pipe (currently just going into the ground) out to the road via pipes constructed under the garden; N has avoided the need for this by means of a similar under flowerbed pipe at the other end of the rhododendrons. We are still waiting for the bill for the drain work he and Guillaume did two weeks ago, and will then raise the question of the heating service and the replacement trap on the terrace, both of which have been so far ignored!
We’ve not heard from either Monsieur B the TV engineer or Monsieur P the carpenter, but are letting them know we will be going away in a few days. This is our trip to Plymouth to see Bobbie and Guthrie, which we are both very much looking forward to, a drive to Caen then boat to Portsmouth, and a drive along the other western part of the south coast which we didn’t visit on our trip in May.
Over the last few weeks N has been getting in touch with an old university friend with whom he’d had no contact for years, and who lives in Bristol, so there is a possibility of our going there for a visit while we are in Plymouth. Dates are currently being discussed, and the idea of going by train instead of car.
Now that the drain pipe work is all finished, N has returned to plastering the outhouse - he reminds me a little of Mr Toad, of whom we are currently reading on Sunday afternoons, as he switches from one new enthusiasm to another, forgetting all about the one before; from brick-laying to carpentry to plastering to plumbing and then back to plastering.
On Thursday afternoon we went shopping in Bernay for the first time in a long time; it was so long since we had been to Vive le Jardin! that all the garden furniture which I was still thinking about had long since been put away and preparations for Christmas were in full swing: the building of several large set pieces, and piles of decorations, and crèche scenes ready to go on display. We did manage to get bulbs however; my little daffodils and narcissi and N’s bluebells which have now been planted in the grass near the birch tree in hopes of a great swathe next spring. On the same afternoon N got all his pipes, yet more plaster and various plastering accessories from Monsieur Bricolage, I bought more jam jars there as we had almost run out, and also - while N was choosing all his things - went along to Petite Italie and bought lots of lovely things to eat, including some wonderful gorgonzola just delivered from Rungis that morning. (Rungis is the great wholesale food market just outside Paris.)
Tuesday 2 October 2007
It rained very hard last night and this morning and N was variously pleased to see that his under flowerbed watering system was working well - water gushing out at intervals at the foot of the rhododendrons, and not pleased to find that water was still coming in under the verandah door, despite his new step. He got round this, at least temporarily, by putting yet another layer of wooden threshold plank in place, and drilling a deep hole in the step just where most of the water collected, so that it can drain away down into the garden. I think that (a) this is the kind of weather we have to expect in Normandy and (b) the water in the verandah problem won’t be solved until we have a new door with a storm board in place across the bottom.
Our village newspaper shop (also very useful for cards, sellotape, stationery, dry cleaning and photo developing) has moved further down the road to new premises in between the traiteur and the bank. Its new doors and windows were being installed yesterday, but I haven’t visited it yet. I shall miss seeing their posters outside advertising gossip magazines and their tales of tragedy, horror, illness, death and disappointment. (I could still see them if I walked that far of course, but the old shop was in between the house and the boulangerie, so I used to see them every day.) I have no idea yet what will happen to the old shop, but I should think the traiteur will get more trade.
I have recently taken up knitting again, after a gap of about 25 years; I had been looking at knitting kits when I was with Madeleine in Paris earlier in the year, and then she found me a free kit in London to knit for charity. I was pleased to find that I hadn’t forgotten how to do it at all, and now that it is all over and posted off to the charity in question, am thinking about embroidery again. The tiny cross stitch kit I was working on while at Simone’s house last spring is really very tiny, only possible at home under a good lamp I think, so have started on a larger kit I found for 1 euro at a brocante sale, which has the advantage of being entirely red thread on white cloth. A classic sampler style, square with letters, numbers and little pictures. I am finding it just as addictive as I always used to, and think I shall take it with me while away visiting next week. And once it’s finished I know exactly the shop in L’Aigle where I can get it framed!
Wednesday 3 October 2007
Yesterday afternoon I made French Onion Soup (complete with thick slices of bread and toasted cheese) partly to use some of our wonderful onions and partly to get some use out of the « Gratinée » soup bowls we bought at the antiques barn some months ago. The best recipe I could find was in Delia Smith, and it took a long time, despite slicing all the onions in the food processor. The result was very good however, and the evening suitably cold and wet, which made it worth while, the sort of evening when you need hot warming soup. There is a lot left over for the freezer, and can be used when we next have guests on a cold day.
N had picked all the little Spanish peppers, and I tried to cook them as best I could in the way we had eaten them in Barcelona, roasted in oil and salt, but when we tasted them we got a shock, they were very hot and spicy indeed, more like chillies! One each was more than enough, and we both needed large glasses of water and emergency servings of ice cream. So the seeds N bought - although they looked like what we had eaten - must have been something quite different. I have put the rest of them, roasted, in a large jar and covered them in olive oil, like a sort of home-made Italian antipasti. Perhaps they will be OK in small quantities with ham or salami…..
Today I have been to the village traiteur, where there was talk of the new paper shop next door; they seemed to think it was working quite well, despite being just a converted house and rather small and dark. I was interested to hear another customer saying to the proprietress that she thought it would bring more trade to the traiteur, as it was just what I thought. Another customer was ordering a dish for Saturday, and asking for advice saying « Je suis troublée dans mon menu » which amused me; literally « I am troubled in my menu » or « I’m having trouble with my menu. » I know the feeling.
# posted by Chez Katherine @ 9:00 AM 
