Our French garden in the beautiful Dordogne

Stone

2012-01-23T09:28:00.000+01:00

The recent 'knock through' the back of La Grande Maison has left me with a good sized pile of stone. It's quite amazing how much comes from creating a relatively small opening, but in fairness, considering that the depth of the walls are some sixty centimetres, perhaps I shouldn't be that suprised.

This is the good stuff. The very material used to build the house now put to use in making the garden. You see I'm in the process of losing much of the lawn in the courtyard, instead creating raised beds. I need more of the view pictured below, the dry garden, but it's a labour of love. In an ideal world I would simply dig over the lawn and plant, et voila, but lurking a few inches below the topsoil from which the grass grows are layers of castine (gravel) and general spoil from when the place was built, so the hard 'graft' solution remains my only option.

Once I finish building the low walls, I'll need to import some seven or so cubic metres of topsoil before I can start to plant up. As for a planting list, now there's a question. Whoever the potential incumbents, they'll need to take it droughty.

To be continued...

Fête de la Truffe à Sarlat

2012-01-14T19:23:00.000+01:00

Tis the annual festival of Truffles at Sarlat and we are here to eat.

And drink.

And sniff.

And gather.

And eat more.

Happy New Year [and cheers Jake]

2012-01-03T12:49:00.014+01:00

I can't believe we're nearing the end of the first week in 2012. Happy New Year seems a bit belated, however it's perfectly normal to wish you a bonne année at any time through January in France, right up to the thirty first, so I may wish you another Happy New Year in just under four weeks time!

Daylength is slowing increasing. By the end of the month, it'll have extended by just under an hour at this latitude. My thoughts have already turned to longer days. Above is rose 'Golden showers' pictured last year a little before the longest day.

The weather at the moment is ideal; breezy and mild with no hard frost forecast, so a perfect window in which to get on and do the high altitude pruning necessary for golden showers to become a splendiferous thing by next Summer solstice.

Pruning this year has been a dream. This Christmas, Karen bought me a pair of Japanese 'Okatsune' secateurs together with a swiss sharpening stone from a company called Niwaki. These are simply the best secateurs I have ever used. No splaying, no crushing just the sharpest, cleanest cut possible.

I came across Niwaki some time ago when company founder, Jake Hobson contacted me to see if he could use a picture from my blog for a forthcoming book. No problem. The rest is history as they say, and now I'm into Japanese steel, it's a beautiful thing. Cheers Jake!

Finally, can I point out that I received no 'kickback' or any financial gain whatsoever from Niwaki and that no children or animals were harmed in writing this post.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Eve Market in Pictures

2011-12-25T22:10:00.001+01:00

Wishing you all a very happy Christmas.

Les chocolatiers

2011-12-11T20:45:00.000+01:00

Ah Christmas is coming and shop windows never look better.

Whenever I stroll down the rue de la République in Sarlat, I'm always drawn to two Patisseries/Chocolatiers whose window dressing is a veritable work of art.

I reckon these windows are up there with some of the best Paris has to offer. They are simply beautiful. The skill and artistry needed to create them is a true talent. Jewelled vitrines indeed.

A little of what you fancy does you good. It really does.

Brioche de Noel, lauzes de Périgord, maybe a chocolate Santa.

A cheeky glass of Champagne perhaps?

Actually it's all too good to eat. Don't move a thing.

I took all these photographs last Friday evening except this bottom one which is a couple of years old, but included all the same as I'm really pleased with it. Now there's honesty.

I've been a bit neglectful of my blog in recent weeks. I'm still hammering away at the kitchen and busting a gut to finish it in time for Christmas. No pressure then.

Footballs and Box

2011-11-21T09:29:00.002+01:00

Well I managed to temporarily drag myself away from the seemingly never ending kitchen renovation project and focus a little dans le jardin.

The continued run of exceptionally mild weather has given opportunity to plant without any thoughts of frost or dank weather. In an average year, the last planting out date is usually assumed to be around the 26th or 27th November, the French Saint days of Saint Séverin or Saint Jacques. The soil is still warm enough for root development, there's little or no transpiration and evaporation, all in all perfect. Don't tell the weather though. It may at, or ahead of script this year, but back in 2007 we were having a run of severe frosts at this time, lows dropping to -7 and -8C, not planting weather at all.

For some time, in fact every year, I seem to always find myself dissatisfied with the border up by the barn gable end. This year was no exception, the hollyhocks grew into dominant triffid monsters shading and dwarfing everything else, reaching eight feet in some cases, way too successful, so I've dug them out, au revoir! But what a palaver. Seems the end of the tap root is pretty much equidistant south to the top growth north.

So time for a change. I've been picking up box balls whenever they've been available at a discount, although even then the price always feels stratospheric. I've planted a lot of Salvia 'monrovia blue', Lavender 'grosso' and two Cardoons that I started from seed at the end of the Summer.

To echo the 'boule' theme, and to get rid of the excess mortar I'd been using in the kitchen, I stuffed three different sized footballs full of it, waited twenty four hours and then peeled the balls away. Looks quite good. They needed wire brushing though. Rough them up and get rid of reverse imprints saying stuff like 'FIFA' and 'the road to Wembley'. They just need to 'weather' now.

Parasol Pine

2011-11-04T11:51:00.001+01:00

I planted this Parasol pine, pinus pinea, exactly five years ago in the same spot where I lost a great Walnut tree which had blown down following a nasty little Autumn storm that avoided the weather forecaster's gaze, intensified in the Bay of Biscay and whipped across southern France.

It's grown quickly, much swifter than I thought it would, keeping a good, by and large, well rounded shape.

This is a tree that suits the landscape here, you see them all over southern France and across into Italy and many other parts of Europe, so when I was deliberating as to what to plant on either side of the path leading to the river, It made total sense that I plumped for another four of them. They are pretty small, but dug in with a bit of bone meal, I'm hoping they'll establish quite quickly.

As an extra precaution against wind rock, I've hammered in stakes which face the direction of the prevailing wind, so this should keep things stable over the coming Winter.

Just as a note, this is the tree that yields pinenuts often found in mediterranean cooking. It takes many years however, before it is mature enough to develop the edible seed, so I may be waiting some time before my first harvest!

Rouge Encore

2011-10-24T21:27:00.000+02:00

Is it possible for a foreigner abroad to look more at home than the Virginia Creeper (Parthenocissus quinquefolia) which cloaks the house and rockface just a little way opposite from here? I think not.

Mid- Autumn always leaves this falaise napped in crimson, a beautiful sight in the late October sun.

I've heard it described as a 'chimney reacher', but it left the chimney behind on it's way to the sky.

I've also seen it described as not a plant for the laissez-faire gardener. Pourqui? I put mine in seven years ago, did nothing and it romped away. That'll do.

But it's a two horse race this October rouge stardom thing. Sumac looks positively illuminous with the light from behind.

Even the Sun God is mellowing as the light lowers.

This has been one of the warmest and driest starts to Autumn in SouthWest France. That said, there was a ground frost a few nights ago and this evening the skies have finally opened, not a bad thing.

Bloody Wild Boar

2011-10-17T21:20:00.001+02:00

There's a lot of wild Boar in this corner of France. Their numbers seem to have exploded in recent years, there's not a day goes by when I don't hear them squealling and grunting over in the woods on the other side of the river. I wish they would stay there!

Boar do enormous amounts of damage in their quest for food. At this time of year they are particularly active as they search out nuts, berries and various grubs. Autumn is nature's bounty, they know that. Winter is fast approaching, they know that too.

It's the 'grubbing' aspect of their behaviour which causes the real damage. They merrily churn up large areas of turf to find chafer grubs ( another pain-in-the-arse pest of which I have too many) and other protein rich tasty morsels, and all with the finesse of a drunk driving a plough.

They've torn swathes of the field up away from the houses, and it'll take hours and hours for me to reorganise and stamp the turf back down. I'm going to wait a few days before I attempt it. The ground's so dry at the moment, It has only rained twice since the beginning of September, so if Wednesday's promised forecast comes true, Thursday will be spent piecing the jigsaw back together.

They could easily come back and do it all again though. They've ravaged some of my neighbour's gardens. It ain't funny.

This year's continued shortage of rainfall has contributed to the Boar creating so much havoc. They seem to be travelling further and further to find food and have no problem crossing the little river Beune which runs through here as it is at a record low.

Where I'd Rather Be

2011-10-12T22:13:00.001+02:00

I'd happily be here, with a bottle of 2009 Rouge or a 2006 raised in Oak barrels, but I can't. It'll have to wait. It's a shame. Right now I'm in the midst of a major DIY project and other things come second. Discipline you see, or possibly neglect, or even a failure to multi task. Who knows, one things for sure, it only just dawned on me the other day, when Marie commented on my last post as to where I was, that I hadn't been here for some time. As before, DIY discipline you see, or possibly neglect, or even a failure to multi task.

This time of year is prime mushroom season. In the markets I should be able to find Saffron Milkcap (Lactarius deliciosus), Cepes and other tasty boletes, but alas, nay. I haven't had time to visit, such is the extent of my current Le bricolage.

This afternoon, on route to the local DIY store (the bloody DIY store, why have I become their best customer ???), I passed the grandest 'pick your own' apples farm. If only I had the time.

Whether you like apples or not, that is just secondary when visiting, look at the place. You may even hate apples, but get picking all the same.

But no, no. They'll not be any wine, mushrooms, apple picking or general loafing amongst the vines for me. I'm in the process of renovating my tired ol' kitchen and that starts with the old concrete floor which had 'failed' in places (long story) and had to be broken with a sledge hammer. Want to burn calories? come break my floor.

But progress is being made. That's me having pretty much laid the new concrete joists and thermo blocks ready to receive an eight centimetre layer of concrete this weekend. All will be mixed and laid by myself together with help and valuable guidance from my good neighbour Paul. Wanna burn even more calories? Lay my floor.

I will return to the garden once the hillock of ballast and palette of 30 bags of cement have gone!

The Pamps have Pamped

2011-09-16T13:43:00.002+02:00

I like Pampas grass. I guess it's just a question of scale, I know sometimes they can look oversized in a small space, but not here.

Looking through the pergola, across the tops of Stipa calamagrostis, you can see two Pamps, Cortaderia selloana, growing in front of La Forge. That's Miscanthus sinensis 'Juli' growing in the middle and to the fore. Now in it's second year, It has raced to become a good size, already the inflorescences ascend to a good seven feet and I'm sure next year it will become quite a specimen.

I always think September is a particularly nice month here in Aquitane. Early Autumn skies are the best together with generally settled and pleasantly warm weather. The pamp plumes look stunning against an azure sky, and will do for weeks until inclement weather arrives as we get later into Autumn.

Aster - Where have you been all my life?

2011-08-29T13:51:00.002+02:00

I've not grown Aster before, more fool me. This is 'Little Carlow' and what a star. There's somewhere around three trillion (I counted) buds yet to burst open with their lavender bluey loveliness and, no mildew anywhere. Result.

It's flopping over the iron railings which is just fine by me. Flop all it wants on that side, I've supported it with twiggy bits on the other as it was menacing a Panicum 'Squaw' which, by the way, are also looking really good, but that's for another day.

I planted three Aster x frikartii 'Monch' in a new bit of garden I'm putting together. They'll take it dry, flower even earlier and have big ol' blooms. Should look beautiful next year.

100 Degree Day

2011-08-21T18:13:00.001+02:00

The thermometre's nudging 39C today. That's a 103F and mighty hot. It was the same yesterday and will be similar tomorrow. Southern France sits under a plume of hot air, it's origin from the shores of north Africa via Spain. A Spanish plume.

These photos are of the Jardins de Cadiot which I posted about here. I particularly like the Amaranthus, so much so I bought a packet of Amaranthus Opopeo seed and I think I'll grow them for next year.

You may ask what relevance this has to a 100 degree day, not a lot really, except I'm sitting indoors right now, windows and shutters shut, keeping cool and messing around in my Picassa photo album, one eye on the Cricket on TV, England hammering India again, they're now the numero uno test side in the world. Again, completely irrelevant.

Mushroom Magic

2011-08-14T13:20:00.001+02:00

There's a lot of mushrooms about at the moment. We've had some rain, but it's still warm and the increased humidity has bought a glut of Cepe, Orange de Bordeaux and all sorts of Boletus.

Some swear that you should aim to gather the much prized champignon sauvage during the first two phases of the moon as you'll have more success - who knows?

Collonges la Rouge is Red.

2011-08-12T13:58:00.001+02:00

There's a vein of red sandstone that runs deep at the borders of the Dordogne, Correze and the Lot. Villages were built from it. Very beautiful villages too, of which Collonges la Rouge is the most.

With a history dating back to the eighth century, the early twentieth saw the formation of the association Les Amis de Collonges, "friends of Collonges" who obtained a historical monument classification for the entire village in 1942. By the way, if you reside in town, you are known as a Collongeois.

Listed as one of the Plus Beau Villages de France, It was the Mayor of Collonges, Charles Ceyrac who founded the association back in 1982, so the red village was in fact the first commune to be designated as such. The rest is history as they say.

The architecture is stunning, the atmosphere wonderful.

Turrets and towers, the stuff of fairytales.

And everthing is red.

Finally, this guy isn't trying to enter "rear of the year", he's sorting through crates of Cepes, that much sought after boletus, foraged first thing that morning.

Oxford Blue

2011-07-29T23:08:00.000+02:00

I actually can't believe how blue Salia patens is. See for yourself, it's just so erm, blue. I don't know whether I like it or not, there's honesty, it's just that you don't see that kind of blue (ah, Miles Davis) in nature often, bar say a kingfisher, like an azure flash.

I sowed a packet of seed back in March. I think there were about twenty in the envelope of which I kept and grew on six. They were slow to start and crept along for most of the summer until these last few weeks when suddenly they seem to have taken off.

I sit here on the terrace and just pick out the colour. You can see it in the centre of the photo.

They're not really hardy, but like a dahlia they develop a tuber which can be stored in much the same way so I'm told. I'll store these.

Passion

2011-07-24T15:11:00.000+02:00

They're doing good things with Iris deep in the heart of La France profonde. In fact they're doing good things with Salvia, Lavender and many things that like it dry.

Les Sentuers du Quercy are growers based in the department of the Lot, an hour south east of this part of the Perigord in the Midi Pyrenees. I take no money, no 'kickback' for mentioning them, just respect for what they do.

Go on, play the vid. It's only a minute and a half.

Limerock Ruby

2011-07-11T19:27:00.001+02:00

I'm really knocked out with the colour of Coreopsis 'Limerock ruby'. It really is ruby. A deep ruby. Ruby, ruby, ruby in fact. I actually lost all the plants I put in last year. I'm not convinced it's really hardy at all, a combination of frost and root eating chafer grubs put paid to them but I have to say, replacing them this spring with six tiny plants and the growth has gone nuclear, just like an annual which I suspect they are, even here in gentle hardy zone eight.

It's the evening light that brings out the best in them. That Panicum 'Squaw' behind looks positively spiffy too. I'm looking forward to it sending up red tinged inflorescences, I've five planted in this area, so over the next few weeks the show starts.

Talking inflorescence, the first tails of Pennisetum villosum look luminous with the evening sun behind. I'm chuffed with this grass, I started it from seed back in March and it's romped away. I'll tuck it up warm over this coming winter so next year it'll make a really good sized plant. Or should that be a good sized bunch, I guess pennisetum is a bunch grass?

Talking ruby, not dissimilar to Limerock's colour is this rather excellent Cotes de Rhone, Domaine Lafond Roc- Epine. 70% Grenache, 30% Syrah (Shiraz), ruby indeed!

Les Jardins de Cadiot

2011-06-24T19:25:00.001+02:00

We spent a perfect morning here earlier this week. Les Jardins de Cadiot, Carlux, Dordogne.

Viper's Bugloss

2011-06-19T20:13:00.000+02:00

I love this plant. Echium vulgare, or Vipers bugloss blows in for free. It sets seed allover and I'm all the better for that.

I think it liked this dry spring. The flower spikes getting to four feet or more and oh, the truest blue.

I'm actually a little obsessed with blue. It ends up everywhere and in big quantities. Here (below) by the end gable I have Nepeta 'Six hills giant' - blue. Buddleja 'Lochinch' which will flower soon - blue. Perovskia 'Blue spire' - blue. And of course, Viper's bugloss - true blue.

Sempervivum and Jovibarba

2011-06-14T20:21:00.000+02:00

We could be Hobbits in the Shire. I love visiting Pepiniere du Lac des Joncs, It's probably my favourite place in the whole of middle earth.

I've been there today, again. I was there last week, again. I'll probably go again next week. See, there are just so many houseleeks and stonecrop. Brings out the bug in me. We wants it, we needs it. Must have the precious.

Organic

2011-06-07T21:13:00.004+02:00

It's seems that 'bio' or organic fairs are popping up all over France. None more so than here in deepest Perigord where rural traditions and 'old timey' horticultural methods have never departed.

Last Sunday we visited a 'doors open' weekend at a farm that specialises in all things bio, particularly small scale manufacture of 'purins' or natural brews which bring many benefits to the garden. An open door weekend is in fact something of a small fete with numerous stalls and activities taking place.

The photo above is of a poster pinned above the entrance to the farm. It's a promotion for a documentary released a couple of years ago. 'The Nettle Fairy of the Resistance' is a close translation, the film argued against the power of the large agro-chemical companies whose influence in government led to some strange and unfriendly French law, an example being to outlaw the manufacturing for sale of nettle soup, or 'purin d'ortie'. The humble nettle is now the symbol for a groundswell of French opinion and desire to reclaim better methods of husbandry for the planet as a whole. The law has recently been relaxed.

Following the terrible events in Japan, like everywhere, the nuclear issue is again at the fore. Nuclear power is the primary source of electricity in France, generating some 79%, the highest percentage in the world. The anti - nuclear contingent were present at the fete, you decide.

The farm's plant sale area was charming in its disorganisation. You never know what you may stumble upon.

But then that's part of the charm.

L'Escargot are still very popular in France. This stall was doing a brisk trade, and for those that maintain that snails are just a good way to get at the garlic butter, well they can be prepared in many ways, for example in the Burgundian style of gently poached in red wine (a burgundy of course) to name just one.

Kids were well entertained. Donkey rides down by the small lake, a story teller below.

Another poster. The French create some of the most beautiful poster art. It basically reads 'Less pesticides, more life'.

Oh and another one for Savon Noir, a handy little soap which acts as a good pesticide. I posted about it here.

Another poster, this one promoting Stevia as an alternative sweetner. You could buy small stevia plants at 10 euro a piece.

Finally, I purchased 5 litres of a good all-round liquid manure, composed of horsetail, comfrey, nettle and fern. I've made my own nettle soup before, you can read about it here, but I need to give this melange a go.

Drought

2011-05-23T22:51:00.001+02:00

The hot dry spell continues. Following a dry winter, this spring has been notable not only for an absence of rain, but for continuing high temperatures. The mercury is forecast to nudge thirty four centigrade on Wednesday, it's not even June yet, both March and April temperature anomalies were plus three or four degrees across southern France. May continues in the same vein.

Sempervivum and Sedum doesn't mind though. I honestly think I could get addicted to collecting these plants, there are just so many varieties, literally hundreds and every colour imaginable, oh and they require zero maintenance.

Wish I could say the same for the rest of the garden. I'm resigned to a daily slog of lugging watering cans all over the place. I count myself lucky that there's a natural water source here that constantly replenishes a small well, allowing me to dunk a can in and fill it in seconds before dutifully ferrying it about here and there and in record time; a proper workout.

I wish it would rain!

Mediterranean Bells

2011-05-08T23:11:00.001+02:00

I love this allium relative, Nectaroscordum siculum subsp. bulgaricum. Less of a mouthful and altogether nicer is the common name, Mediterranean bells, or Sicillian honey lily. I planted about eighty bulbs last Autumn and am really impressed with them.

Admittedly quite a few have flopped over, but those that stand look wonderful.

Not easy to photograph though. They're almost too subtle and the camera loses some of their charm. They're definitely at their best in the evening light, the candelabra of blooms are flushed almost claret, hopefully they'll seed themselves about.

The Gladiolus byzantinus have nearly finished flowering now. I reckon they're about two weeks earlier than I thought, but that's been the story of this spring, it's felt like high Summer for weeks now.

They should naturalise easily in the meadowy area by the river, it's the perfect environment for them, sun all day and free draining. If they multiply three fold in as many years I'll be happy.

Les Asperges

2011-05-03T14:33:00.000+02:00

Every Spring, a visit to an Asparagus farm is practically obligatoire for Karen and I. There are many dotted around the Dordogne valley, inevitably they're beautiful places that have been in families for generations and a rendevous is almost Le Sacre du Printemps, a true rite of Spring.

This is Monsieur Leopold Mazere who, as he put it, has lived here at the farm for seventy years and some. I think he was slightly bemused when myself and Karen, together with her Mum parked up, jumped out of the car and proceeded to take photos and swap pleasantries in quick succession yesterday afternoon, disturbing the peace after a long alfreso lunch.

The spears are graded into premier and deuxieme choix, the first choice being the fattest most perfectly formed. We bought two kilos of second choice as the plan was to make penne pasta with asparagus, simply the peeled and cooked spears folded into cooked penne together with a little creme fraiche, tarragon and a grating of parmasan.

Located just between Sarlat and Beynac, this has to be one of the most idyllic farm properties around. A true Perigordine maison built with a perfect courtyard planted with Plane trees which are dutifully clipped or pollarded so that by high Summer they provide much welcome shelter under a canopy of large leaves.

Not only is the property idyllic, so is the location. Panoramic views to the chateau at Beynac testify to that. If ever there was an incentive to go and buy some Asparagus, this is it.

Chateau Neuvic Plant Fair

2011-04-25T01:09:00.000+02:00

Karen and I spent yesterday morning wandering around the grounds of the very splendid Chateau de Neuvic just taking in the atmosphere and admiring the wonderful stalls at the annual Jardin en Fete. A perfect day.

You see, it's one thing to visit a good plant fair, but altogether another when it's held at a beautiful venue such as this.

There were so many good things to see. Proper 'plantspeople' selling really interesting stuff. Below is the very amicable Monsieur Willy de Wilde who owns the excellent Pépinière du Lac des Joncs which I blogged about previously here.

But what really grabbed me were the metal sculptures created by an English fella, Bill Carter, who for a number of years has been creating wonderful garden art by recycling old farm and garden tools.

The wild Boar above caught my eye initially. It's just so cleverly done. Look at the back leg, it's an old adjustable spanner. The backside, a shovel, and so on. Was that not a stroke of genius to stuff it full of pine cones? Of course it was!

The Cockerel above, head made from secateurs, chin from keys, tail from different sythes, oh and a garden fork.

I was particularly 'grabbed' by the Mayfly. So much so I bought it, that's it there clinging to the side of the old cattle barn. If you want to see more of Bills extraordinary work, click here.

Of course a celebration of plants includes many things derived from them. There was even a little spice stall which specialised in infusions of all sorts. Everything you'll ever need to prepare a Tisane or that special brew.

Yesterday was a good day, a really good day.

Wysteria Lane (Again)

2011-04-17T18:38:00.000+02:00

Another beautiful day today. The weather this spring has been wonderful if a little too dry, however, twenty six degrees centigrade plus unbroken sunshine, I'm not complaining.

Karen and I decided to take a stroll around Sarlat and find somewhere for lunch. Why does food always taste better when dining alfresco? I had Duck Confit together with Pommes Sarladaise, Karen went for a Salade Composee, yum.

As ever, the Wysteria looks magnificent at this time of year, so just a few photos.

At it's peak now, the bloom time is always too short, but for a couple of weeks it's stunning, two weeks of splendour!

Looking For Clues

2011-04-12T10:10:00.001+02:00

I'm suprised at just how slow the emerging spring growth of 'warm' season grasses can be. The new shoots of Panicum virgatum 'Squaw' (above) took a long time to show. The same applies to Pennisetum orientale 'Karley Rose'. Pennisetum orientale 'Tall Tails' shows no sign of growth whatsoever despite it feeling robust when the old tufts are tugged and showing green when the base of last years growth is scraped with a fingernail. I wonder whether the thick layer of pine needle mulch I applied last Autumn has supressed the soil temperature, knocking things back a few weeks, who knows?

The new gowth on an unidentified Pennisetum of which I have two growing either side of the doors to the 'Well' barn. I simply don't know which variety they are, I picked them up cheaply a couple of years ago, tagged simply 'pennisetum' et voila. Their growth is so much more advanced in their snug Southeast facing position, tucked just in front of a heat radiating stone building.

Still talking grasses, above are the seedlings of Pennisetum villosum, which I'm informed is easily grown as an annual, rapidly making a good sized plant. It's probably borderline hardy in this frost 'hollow' so I'll take a view about the best option for protection this coming winter.

As usual, I've managed to grow way too many seedlings than I actually need. Cosmos 'purity' needs to be put out as it's rapidly heading towards being potbound. I think, hope, pray we've had our last frost. Also growing away now are Greek Origano, Nicotiana sylvestris, Agrostis nebulosa 'Fibreoptics' , Salvia patens and Chilli pepper 'Apache regular.

The border near the end gable is a maze of pea sticks and hazel plant supports. It looks a little odd right now, but the twigs will disappear once the Hollyhocks, Cosmos and Vebena bonariensis really get going. I used to buy those metal 'half moon' supports but I resent paying a small fortune for them, they always seem ridiculously expensive.

The Gladiolus byzantinus are growing strongly now. Back in the Autumn I planted one hundred and twenty five bulbs amongst the long grass down in the field and they seem to be popping up unscathed. We have a lot of red Squirrels and other rodents that would delight in digging up bulbs carefully planted in a remote position, not to mention hungry wild boar who can churn up turf with the efficiency of an industrial rotivator

A couple of late additions. I'm planting more grasses in the garden at the front of La Grande Maison, adding another six Calamagrostis 'karl foerster' plus replacing Coreopsis 'limerock ruby' which for some reason died after this winter. I don't really know why, It wasn't particularly cold, the ground drains easily, they never sat in the wet and I don't think anything chomped away at the roots, it's a mystery.

Le Perigord in Blossom

2011-03-27T15:50:00.001+02:00

Spring arrived in earnest a few weeks ago in this corner of SouthWest France. Temperatures have been nudging the mercury to around twenty two centigrade in recent days but inevitably each morning arrives with a cold start and a light frost on the grass, however it doesn't hang about for long and it's Tee shirt weather by lunchtime. My Peach tree above has been in bloom for over a week now, fingers crossed that we don't have a sharp frost as it'll yield little fruit, but looking at longer range weather forecasts it seems nothing too sinister is on the horizon, maybe there will be a glut this Summer?

Forsythia has been showy for weeks now. I know they're everywhere, but things are better for that as I reckon them to be the most cheery sight each Spring.

The perfect yellow.

The Château de Castelnaud viewed through Cherry blossom. Standing high above the Dordogne valley, I literally have to stop the car every time I drive past, a wonderful sight, really it's a case of any excuse to take a photo of it!

The Magnolias are almost finished now; all too soon the show's over. I particularly liked this one in front of a grand old Manoir in St. Cyprien.

Thundery weather today. Calm, not a zephyr, blossom scent just hangs in the air on days like these.

Ah well, the clocks have gone forward, the equinox just passed, Spring marches on.

Monsieur Bricolage

2011-03-01T20:30:00.000+01:00

For weeks now I've been immersed in various DIY projects that seem destined only to be finished by the skin of my teeth. It's always like that. Last week was spent playing with a mini -digger scraping out the top fifteen centimetres of soil over a six by eleven metre area, ready to receive two grades of gravel for my soon to be created Pétanque court.

This week I'm stripping wallpaper in a high stairwell and making good any marks left behind with filler. I've devised various support mechanisms using carefully balanced, different sized ladders and scaffold planks that enable me to reach to the ceiling. It looks a little precarious to say the least, so if it goes hideously wrong, well, it's been nice knowing you all!

Just for the record, I currently have a half tiled bathroom which has remained unfinished for six weeks now as the remaining tiles are somewhere in Spain. The DIY store has been experiencing distribution problems and so there they sit, in a factory near Villa-Real, seven boxes, seven metres squared with my name on it. Just bloody well get them here!!!

If you're wondering what relevance these photographs have to my current handyman misery, well very little except to say this is where I'd rather be, wandering through the beautiful gardens at Sardy. I took these photos on a previous visit back in 2009. Warmer weather and a little bit of freetime, I'd take that right now.

Now and Then

2011-02-03T21:58:00.000+01:00

I don't know what it is about pruning roses, but at this time of the year it's perhaps the singularly most positive outside activity I find myself doing during the depths of winter.
At a time when there really ain't much happening dan le jardin, It feels good to get back outdoors and thoughtfully take steps to shape and rejuvenate things- I get something of a 'lift' as I cut back each branch or stem and with milder temperatures (forecast for fifteen degrees centigrade this weekend) spring doesn't feel far.

Rose 'Golden Showers' which grows against the cattle barn's gable end is definitely a pruning labour of love. I find it almost hard to believe she'll look like this come early Summer.

She who remains nameless, just by the front door, gets cut back hard. Frequently this rose attracts powdery mildew so a merciless chop helps to re-invigorate .

This is the least cared for rose I grow. She never gets watered unless it rains and even then, being under the eaves and thus in a rain shadow, rather less than all around her. She gets one handful of feed at the beginning of spring, not easy to scatter around as she literally grows through a gap in the terrace about ten centimetres in diametre and yet she does this,

which I find remarkable all things considered. Blooms like these, no fuss.

La Fête de la Truffe 2011

2011-01-15T17:29:00.002+01:00

Feast your eyes. This weekend L’académie culinaire hosts the annual Fête de la Truffe in Sarlat, capital of the Perigord Noir.

The Perigord is famed for its truffles. Commonly refered to as the black 'diamond', this is a two day truffe extravaganza.

High gastronomy indeed, nothing seems to arouse a foodies passion quite like the tuber melanosporum.

With prices between seven and nine hundred euros a kilo, the one pictured above is yours for a mere one hundred and thirty five euros.

You can join the queue for truffled scrambled eggs. Everybody gets some, this is truffles for the people, right on.

National TV are there, interviewing talented chefs from some of the best kitchens in the area.

Decisions, decisions. You choose.

Brunch tomorrow, omelette aux truffe.

Les Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac

2011-01-10T21:48:00.000+01:00

Inevitably when Karen and I visit the formal gardens at Eyrignac, it's during the depths of Winter. This is a splendid place indeed, in the grandest tradition. On a cold dark day in December we practically had the place to ourselves bar for the call of Crows circling overhead and the smell of woodsmoke from home fires burning in the valley below; all serve to lend an almost eery quality.

The canal was frozen that day, terracotta pots wrapped against the cold. The low December sun just added to the chill.

Even in mid winter, the garden forms a tapestry of green and beige and whether this stark formality is your bag or not, it's hard not to appreciate the skill and accuracy that creates perfectly clipped Box, Hornbean and Yew.

Italy inspired the gardens of XVIIIth century France. Fastigiate Cypress punctuate perfectly domed White Mulberry. If it's happy, the cypress variety 'stricta' looks almost as if it's been brushed.

Ivy has it's place.

Avenues of Yew 'cakestands' lead you onward flanked by enormous Cedar.

Described as "the creation of the same family's passion for five hundred years", Les Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac are classed as a Jardin Remarquable by the French Ministry of Culture.

Merry Christmas

2010-12-24T17:25:00.001+01:00

I wish you all a peaceful Christmas and a Happy New Year.

In The Mood

2010-12-10T21:14:00.016+01:00

I've travelled many hundreds of miles these last few weeks visiting family and friends with hardly a minute to myself. Driving back from Toulouse airport the other day my thoughts turned to down time and festive affairs. Without any travel itineries to occupy my thinking it dawned on me that it really is very near to Christmas.

My flight had been delayed by a couple of hours due to bad weather which left me covering the last twenty minutes drive in the dark cutting through Sarlat as this is the easiest route home.

This is the first time I've seen the lights here this year. Being delayed ain't so bad, I'd have missed them during daylight, that would have been my loss.

I feel that retail glow, I really do. The Marchand de Vin offering a veritable tonic.

The Patisserie creating confection too pretty to eat.

Still best I really love those lights.

Just one bright white, no neon glitz.

Strolling, window shopping, making plans, just be.

Roll on Christmas

Sarlat Market

2010-11-08T00:45:00.000+01:00

As good as a holiday to me, escaping to the market. Let's face it, the garden's dreary right now and the thought of raking leaves only serves to add to the hum drum so it's off to la Marche for me. Let your eyes and stomach do the walking.

Beautiful isn't it? Sarlat is one of the most perfectly preserved medieval towns in Europe. To wander unhurried through her cobbled streets taking in the sights, sounds and smells of one of the best gastronomic markets in the region is a delight.

In the absence of any hard frost, mushroom season continues. Some years are better than others for the fickle Cepe and there have been occasions when the market is just brimful with this particular boletus, literally crate fulls stacked high, other times they're less plentiful.

Queue for Choucroute, it's worth the wait.

Who doesn't love good coffee? Beans are roasted on site at the Brulerie Sarladaise, and this fabulous old machine does the trick. The fire is stoked into the burner on the left, the heat travels along the pipe to the drum, beans are poured into the top, the drum slowly turns and the coffee gently roasts. The smell is out of this world, heavenly.

France embraced canning in a big way. I think it was Escoffier who referred disparagingly to the "cuisine of the can". Entirely unfair of course, these are some of the best canned delicacies money can buy.

Le grand fromage. I have a serious weakness for cheese, and of course if you're going to eat cheese,

you'll probably need some bread

Well you could easily find your own chestnuts but life is so much easier when someone else has peeled them for you.

So much Saucisson.

Finally, lunch anyone?

Bend it, shape it, anyway you want it...

2010-10-29T21:31:00.000+02:00

Common Hazel (Corylus avellana) is a pain in the derrière and that's a fact. It grows everywhere, the nuts sprout in places I cannot believe and it's seedlings are hard to pull. I even find it making an appearance popping up between the stone from which the tobacco drying barn was constructed.

Well alright, perhaps I'm being unfair. Sure enough it's successful at getting established just about anywhere, but in reality it's a vital part of a woodland habitat, the nut is frequently a confectioner's first ingredient of choice and importantly for me, it's young branches are very flexible.

I've taken time out over the last couple of days cutting lengths of both hazel and alder (which grows in abundance along the river bank), as with each being so malleable they make the ideal material to form plant supports.

I literally just take eight similar sized branches, sharpen the thickest ends and push them into the ground to form a circle. Each stem is then folded back over each other and secured with pieces of jute string which looks much more rustic than synthetic fibres. I then weave a couple of rows of 'whippy' branches around the cage, again tying in with string.

Above, the support nearest is not quite finished as the remaining side shoots just need to be folded and woven in to complete the structure.

When finished, I gently prise the cage out of the ground - it holds it shape - and that's it, done.
Stored somewhere dry this winter they'll firm up, and then, next spring I'll put them out into position early so that the plants grow up and through them easily.

Saffron Milkcap

2010-10-24T14:01:00.000+02:00

First light yesterday morning, myself and Monsieur Chevalier - he who has dedicated his life to earthy concern - went out hunting for Cepes, that king of boletus which fetches a high price in the restaurants of Paris and London and yet, in a good year, deep in the woods of the Perigord can positively burgeon for free.

The French word for unfortunately is malheureusement, and malheureusement, a good year this is not, it's been too dry and Les Cepes were few and far between.

All was not lost however, and we departed, leaving the at best, slender pickings from under an umbrella of Chestnut and Oak and headed toute de suite for a different part of the woods populated predominately by pine, the perfect environment in which to find Lactarius deliciosus. The Saffron Milkcap. We were not dissapointed and promptly picked a good basketfull.

After bidding Monsieur Chevalier (Patrice) adieu and appreciative of the morning's bonhomie, I made my way back home thoughts turning to dinner.

At The Market

2010-10-10T11:06:00.000+02:00

Yesterday was the first time I'd visited Bergerac market in many months. It's held on a Saturday so is nigh on impossible for me to visit during the season.

Worth the wait though. I'd forgotten about the un- hurried, convivial atmosphere that runs through events such as these. Sociality taking precedence above all else, and that includes trade.

It's tempting to say that produce is at it's best at this time of year. Maybe it is, but then I cast my mind back to the scent of strawberries in early June, the 'hum' of an aged goat's cheese in Spring or the perfume of truffle in December and it's fair to conclude that during any season the market is a treat.

Sure enough there are pumpkin and squash of every variety, but it's the tomatoes which steal the show for me.

This continued run of warm Autumn weather leaves them sweet and at a point. A day later and they'll start to turn, eat them today and there's nothing better.

Plenty of garlic,

and onions.

All manner of beans are around now. Cocos, Lingots, Soissons, different sizes and texture, a recipe for each.

Roots of every description. The French love salsify. It's enormously popular and sells by the crate load.

Radishes, black and red.

Even the humble turnip is held in high regard. Cattle fodder this ain't, sweet and delicate this is.

Of course with so much to eat, it's important to have something to wash it down with, et voila!

Gladiolus Byzantinus

2010-10-01T17:14:00.000+02:00

Gladiolus communis subsp byzantinus or Sword lily is really unlike many of the more gardenesque varieties usually associated with the genus. A striking magenta, in 'meadowy' situations it makes a real impact and looks quite at home.

I've just planted a hundred and twenty bulbs of this 'hardy' gladioli in an area of the field where I let the grass grow long.

I'm really unsure as to how rustic a plant this is. For example, reading the gladiolus section of a well known UK bulb supplier, it's described as "one of the most enduring and easily grown plants" whilst others suggest lifting the corms except in the mildest areas and yet I've found further information from the States stating they're hardy to zone 6! I reckon Dahlias are hardy to zone 6 if you bury the tubers deep enough. Surely that's the key. If they freeze, they thaw to mush.

Time to plant is another conflicting one. Again, a well respected UK bulb supplier lists the corms under Autumn bulbs to flower in the Spring, however another refuses to despatch until late February for early Spring planting. Who knows?

Well, the reality is they're all planted, complete as of today, October one.

Making the holes was much easier with the pointed end of a pick axe! It's difficult getting through the grass 'mat' with a trowel. Ido SO hope they come up next May.

Top photograph courtesy of Wikimedia commons.

Dry Garden - the Finale

2010-09-27T13:53:00.001+02:00

Back in July, I mentioned my plans for a dry garden here.

The soon to be converted piece of lawn grows in five inches or so of topsoil that sits over gravel and builders spoil. Not exactly fertile territory for growing much. The obvious solution was to raise the bed and hold it together with the local stone. Rather than spend weeks recovering pieces from fields and around as I did when making the car park steps, an altogether simpler solution was to buy some and as luck would have it, Monsieur Roy, who owns the lawn mower shop close by was selling recovered stone. So, two Saturdays ago I became the proud owner of a cubic metre, not bad for seventy euros and decent stuff it is.

Satisfying putting a dry stone wall together. I'm using the term 'dry stone' loosely, but it ain't a bad attempt and one things for sure, when you see skilled trades people creating such structures deftly, each piece fitting perfectly together, then you realise that they're exactly that, skilled trades people.

After placing the stones, it was just a simple case of digging over the old lawn before importing four cubic metres of top soil. I say just a simple case, that's a laugh, my back still hasn't recovered! I still have a further two cubes of topsoil to shift as the enterprise I bought it from would only sell a minimum of six.

The next stage was my favourite bit, laying out the plants. Everything I purchased came from the truly wonderful Pépinière du Lac des Joncs owned and tended by the amiable Monsieur Willy de Wilde who I have mentioned before here.

I did my level best to tread carefully so as not to compact the soil, nimbly balancing on old laminate flooring planks as I set out over a hundred plants as sympathetically as I could.

The plant list is as follows;

Grasses

Panicum virgatum 'Squaw'

Pennisetum orientale 'Tall tails'

Pennisetum orientale 'Karley Rose'

Calamagrostis acutiflora 'Karl Foerster'

Stipa calamagrostis

Schizachyrium scoparium

Flowers/sub shrubs

Achillea 'Sammertriese'

Achillea 'Hella glashof'

Agastache mexicana 'Painted Lady'

Aster cordyfolius 'Little carlow'

Coreopsis 'Limerock ruby'

Gaura lindheimeri 'Siskiyou pink'

Lavandula x intermedia 'Edelweiss'

Blue Lavender (Iv'e forgotten which)

Nepeta 'Six hills giant'

Nepeta 'Transcaucasia'

Sedum 'Autumn Joy'

Sedum 'Matrona'

Thymus serpyllum

Veronica trifurcata

Stipa calamagrostis growing along the pergola. I'll simply chop pieces out with a spade and add this to the new garden. It does spread quite easily so it'll need managing.

So there it is finished. I'll mulch it over in the coming weeks and then all I need is for a couple of years to pass until it becomes fully established and not a scrap of soil is visible, ah patience, but you know how it is.

In The Dark

2010-09-12T17:27:00.005+02:00

Excuse my recent absence, it's been the busiest period ever for me, but now things are calming down I can ease back into a gentler routine and pick up where I left off. Of course with it being so hectic recently, needless to say there's been been a good deal of, errrm, healthy neglect. That's me below, tying in the roses along the pergola. The Stipa calamagrostis has been an absolute star. I can't reccommend this grass enough, if you don't mind managing it from time to time. It spreads easily so a little garden editing avec a spade keeps it in check!

Below are three tubs of Bacopa - a tender perennial which I'm treating as an annual - and which has grown so profusely that the pots are simply smothered now. I like this plant. The small white blooms are subtle, the foliage gently spreading, if there's one drawback, it likes water, but then I'm pretty much resigned to a watering regime during Summer, so nay bother.

The Hollyhocks look just lovely right now. I posted about them here but unfortunately not one of the 'Nigra' have flowered, hopefully next year. As insurance, I purchased six ficifolia types which as I understand are more resistant to rust, they've flowered and flowered well.

The Cosmos below is 'Versailles Tetra' and it's a self seeder from last year. I seem to have lost a lot of Cosmos plants this year, but lo and behold, the volunteers have romped away. Isn't that always the case?

Always a welcome sight, the Autumn anemones, I think the darker pink is 'September Charm' but am not a hundred percent. I like them down by the steps, there was Borage growing in amongst earlier, but that went 'over' and has been pulled.

The grass growing in the pot is 'Feather grass', stipa tenuissima, it looks great between the Verbena bonariensis and the yellow rose, 'Golden showers'.

So there you have it, a bit 'o' this and a bit 'o' that, but I'm back in circulation now and will be visiting soon. Be afraid, be very afraid!

Snowed under

2010-08-22T20:15:00.000+02:00

A million apologies for not getting around the blogs right now, it's just a case of not enough hours in the day.

This is my busiest period, full occupancy at both Le Banquet and Le Relais des Roches. Hospitality with a capital H.

The air is heavy, the scent of barbeques wafting in the breeze. It was 36 degrees today, the ground is dry, the swimming pool a veritable HQ!

I'll be back!

Don't Quit Tobacco

2010-08-05T15:13:00.000+02:00

I'm pleased I didn't. Nicotiana sylvestris or 'tobacco of the woods' is a plant I just can't be without. Late summer and the first elongated tubular blooms are always a treat for the eye. On warm evenings, when the air's still, the gentle scent pervades, very sweet.

Moths seem to like it too, I guess they're the pollinator back in it's original home in South America? But there's no denying the 'shooting' star like blooms come alive close to dusk. I have it growing in two large tubs near the old cattle barn where it gets sun until around two in the afternoon. I also have it planted near the river by 'La Fermette', another part sun location and it seems to thrive. I'm always amazed that just a pinch of the dust like seed, surface sown back in March matures into such a large plant by late Summer.

Nicotiana 'mutabilis' has got my vote this year. I was a bit dubious about it, especially when Thompson and Morgan describe it as 'Masses of wiry stems topped with a haze of small blooms, each one fading through rose, pink and white tones, giving the effect of three colours on one plant'. It was the three colours on one plant that put me off, a description that 'smacked' of a 'blingy' annual, you know, a bit garish, how wrong could I be?

It's airy, branching habit, each flowering stem elongating with more and more blooms of the subtlest pink and white shades is a delight.

Old France Rurale

2010-08-02T13:37:00.001+02:00

Ok, so going through the archives I decided to hit the sepia button.

The newly opened pre-history society building in Les Eyzies is housing a free exhibition of Robert Doisneau's stunning photographs from his visit to the Dordogne back in the Summer of 1937. Two things struck me as I admired his stunning compositions. First, in many ways it seems nothing much has changed. The stallholders at Sarlat market could have been the same as last Saturday, but secondly, I couldn't help feeling a tinge of sadness as I viewed people messing around on boats afloat the gentle Dordogne river, yet just two years later and Europe was at war.

On a lighter note, that last photograph is of Cyrano de Bergerac, he with the unfeasibly large nose!

Do Nothing

2010-07-25T18:56:00.000+02:00

no pruning, no weeding, no digging,

no composting, no watering, no sowing, no cuttings, no planning,

no mowing, ahhhh, just loafing. Make time for wine!

Dry Garden

2010-07-18T14:05:00.001+02:00

Above is the view looking to the right from the terrace in front of La Grande Maison. The grass is looking remarkably green considering it's been by and large dry and with temperatures sometimes nudging 36 degrees. Of course it's not that remarkable as perhaps twice a week I'll wheel out the hose and put the sprinkler on it. It's a losing battle. There's barely four inches of topsoil under the turf, below that, hardcore and castine - gravel - which means that it never remains damp for long and any moisture has a tendancy to run off as it slopes slightly.

For some time now I've often envisaged it as a piece of dry garden, planted with grasses, sub shrubs and drought tolerant perennials, infinitely more interesting than struggling turf.

I intend to line the edges of the border with local stone that I've collected over time and stockpiled at the back of the house. It'll also give more height to accommodate the few cubic metres of topsoil that I'll need to add to have a half decent planting depth.

Returning from dropping family at the airport, I took a detour to Pépinière du Lac des Joncs and picked up a few plants. This nursery is one of my favourite places on earth - period. Apart from a superb range of perennials and grasses, including over forty varieties of Miscanthus, it's a gem of a spot nestling in beautifull countryside just near Rouffignac.

Above is Pennisetum 'Karley Rose' with it's it's pink tinged inflorescences.

Below is Agastache 'Painted Lady'. Borderline hardy, I still had to have it and will much over it heavily in late Autumn to give it winter protection. For good, sound agastache information, you should search through Cameron's blog.

Achillea. Quite happy in the dry, the red is 'Sammetriese', the pale yellow, 'Hella Glashof'.

A beautiful white Lavender, 'Edelweiss'.

Below, Stipa Calamagrostis growing along the pergola. I'll take divisions from this as it's a must for the new area.

Other planned additions are, Calamagrostis acutiflora 'Karl Foerster', russian sage Perovskia, Catmint including 'Six Hills Giant' and Transcaucasia, Verbena bonariensis, the odd Verbascum Bombyciferum 'Polar Summer', Sedums, Thymes and Autumn flowering bulbs. There'll be others added to the list but I've got to resist the urge to over mix, otherwise, rather than the planned tapestry 'a la' Beth Chatto it'll be something of a mish mash.

The sun lounger in the background is my official 'loafing' chair. A great place to sit and make Autumn plans.

Blue

2010-06-27T15:01:00.002+02:00

I wonder if it's possible to have too much blue in the garden?

Borage, Borago officinalis is a true blue, anyone for Pimms?

I have it growing amongst pink Japanese anemones but may have to pull a few as it's vigorous and threatening to swamp them.

The first blooms of Cape Leadwort, Plumbago auriculata. I've seen this growing all over the south of France, huge specimens cascading over rock walls down in Provence, it just sings 'Summer' to me.

Geranium 'Jolly Bee'. Proven Winners describe it as having a 'Superior mounding habit compared to Rozanne'. I really don't know about that, but beautiful it is all the same and promises to bloom until Autumn.

Geranium 'Johnson's Blue'. Although it has a shorter flowering period than some, I think the colour is incomparable. I'm going to cut it back hard when the flowers have gone over, give it a feed and see if it'll bloom again by September.

Ground morning glory, Convolvulus mauritanicus. I love this plant, a real doer. It positively welcomes this current ninety degree heat, flowering unswervingly in the sun until dusk when the
the little saucer shaped flowers recoil into tight little cones, characteristic of all convolvulus.

Wildflower 'Vipers bugloss', Echium vulgare seeds itself around here and there. I'm quite happy for it to appear under the kitchen window as shown above.

Campanula muralis blooms profusely through June and then fits and starts through the rest of the season. It seems happy in sun or shade and spreads readily.

Hosta 'Wide brim'. In all honesty perhaps not the prettiest blue, really grown for its foliage but there it is, all the same. Behind are 'touch me nots' or Indian balsalm which although volunteer a bit too readily I find easy to pull, so any unwanted seedlings are swiftly gone.

Nepeta 'Walkers low'. I reckon catmint is possibly the most versatile perennial. It's hard to make a mistake with it.

Clematis Jackmanii. Ok, not really blue, purple in reality but still, a wonderful colour.

"Earth laughs in Flowers"

Ralph Wardo Emerson.

Purin d'Ortie

2010-06-21T23:10:00.000+02:00

Stinging nettles, Urtica dioica and the annual Urtica urens, friend or foe?
Of course it all depends on your view, but as far as the French are concerned they're very much on side.

Being rich in nitrogen, magnesium, potassium, oligoelements, encymes, and trace minerals, they are held in such high regard that there is even a society devoted to them, the Association des Amis d'Ortie!

Purin d'ortie is liquid nettle manure. A wholly natural fertiliser which is popular even with non organic gardeners. A simple concoction which can be used as a drench or a foliar feed, I count myself lucky that I have nettles in abundance growing on waste ground near the river at the back of Le Banquet. A true compost mine

Making the 'brew' is a simple affair. I literally take the sheers out back and chop as many nettle tops as I can stuff into a large tub, fill it with water and let it ferment for anything up to two weeks. Once the bubbles stop rising to the top, it's ready. Be warned though, this stuff stinks, it really smells, think silage, so it's sensible if the tub has a lid.

To use it as a drench, I dilute it to about ten percent. For a foliar spray, a weaker solution is effective and easily absorbed.

Horsetail, Equisetum arvense, is also commonly used to make a similar preparation and indeed just about all weeds can be 'drowned' in this way and the resulting sludge chucked on the compost heap as an activator, nothing is more satisying than putting annoying perennial and annual weeds to good use.

A Few Roses

2010-06-08T21:54:00.001+02:00

This is the second season for the roses growing along the pergola and finally they're getting some height. In rude health is 'Rambling Rosie', one of those rarest of things, a repeat flowering rambler. Introduced in 2006, this modern scrambler is unique to Peter Beales Roses in the UK.

I appreciate her saucer shaped flowers, not overly blousy unlike some of the roses I have, just a bit more subtle. That said, when she achieves maturity growing to some three metres or so, I'm hoping that the blooms en-masse will be really something.

Another multiflora rambler though non- repeating is 'Mrs. F.W. Flight'. It was a toss up between this one and 'American Pillar', but mildew fears and ultimately the quirky name led to the choice. She's slowly travelling skyward at either end, patience is a virtue.

Below is 'Danse du Feu' a rose which struggled for a couple of years. Entirely my fault, I planted her in place of an old rose which had been growing exactly where she is now, along side the tobacco drying barn and she almost didn't make it. Rose replant sickness I'm sure, but last year she started to pick up and growth has accelerated this season. Hooray.

The blooms are descibed as solid brick red, but in reality they're darker than that and have an almost 'crepe' paper quality to them.

Finally, growing through a gap in the terrace (really) is an as yet to be identified stunner. This is another rose, along with 'Golden Showers' that's been here for at least twenty years and is glorious in late May, early June.

Last year she'd started to succumb to powdery mildew and I feared the worst. Back in February I cut her back hard. Literally there were just three twiggy stems when I finished pruning and although most reliable wisdom dictates I'd done the right thing, still there's always doubt.

The blooms are profuse and in clusters. Very delicate, highly scented and a perfect blush. The show will be over soon as the vine thickens up, it's canopy limiting the light and things will get leggy underneath. Such is the way but then I'm always glad of the welcome shade on hot Summer days.

In many ways this rose resembles 'White Pet' excepting that she's at least double the size. I wonder.

Aphids

2010-05-30T15:53:00.004+02:00

The unknown rose (though likely 'Golden Showers') at the gable end has been blooming magnificently. Each Winter I dig in good amounts of manure together with compost and this constant soil improvement pays dividends. It's likely that the Catmint, Nepeta 'Six hills giant' is less floriferous than if it had been grown 'hard', a bit like Lavender, but the rose is a greedy feeder so something has to give.

I'ts been damp and muggy in recent days, perfect weather for aphids and blackfly and goodness knows there are millions of them at the moment.

In an effort to thwart the little buggers I've had considerable success using the soap and oil mixture pictured above.

Savon Noir is an organic product. A combination of soap, olive, linseed and lavender oil, it seems to do the trick. Diluted to about 2 percent, or 100 ml to 5 litres and applied with a pump spray on a dry day, et voila, problem resolved.

Of course there are hundreds of natural recipes to be found on the net, some work, some don't but always worth a try. To be frank, I'd shift rather than be drenched in soap and linseed oil

Bluish, Pinkish, Mauve

2010-05-20T08:18:00.004+02:00

The onions, Allium aflatunense are a little past their best now. They continue to look good 'bobbing' amongst the catmint, Nepeta racemosa Walker's Low and the pheasant grass Stipa calamagrostis growing along the base of the pergola.

Pink Sea thrift, Armeria maritima, grows under the roses along the tobacco drying barn. It's really multiplied this year and thus earns its keep.

There's a big swathe of Catmint 'Six hills giant' planted around the gable end. It's the perfect partner to the un-named yellow rose which 'cloaks' this area and looks perfect when the Echinacea and Globe thistles appear behind and to the left of the stone head who we affectionately refer to as Brian.

Myosotis or Forget-me-nots have really seeded themselves about this spring. I've noticed that many more 'gardened' looking types are appearing for sale. Some have really stunning variegated foliage and I reckon worth a punt. The name was likely calqued from the French "ne m'oubliez pas".

Geranium 'Johnson's blue'. I have other blues that flower for much longer but I still reckon this to be the best blue of all, a true blue.

Geranium sanguineum 'Max Frei' growing with Gypsophila repens 'Rosea', sometimes known as 'Baby's breath' or Soupir de bébé .

On the subject of Cranesbill, it seems almost by accident that I've accumulated quite a few varieties without any conscious effort to do so.

Still to flower is G. psilostemon, G. oxanianum x psilostemon 'Patricia' , Geranium endressii ' Wargrave's Pink'. The low growing G. cinereum 'Ballerina' and Geranium x riversleaianum 'Russell Pritchard' are making an appearance and very late is the the true wildflower Geranium phaeum 'Somobor'.

Blue and pink aquilegia or columbine. These do fine in the shady fern border down by the river and eventually get replaced as the Japanese anemones come through.

Finally, above, last week was one of the last 'hurrahs' for the spring flower fetes with the bastide of Monpazier hosting one of the later events, time flies.

The Merry Month of May

2010-05-01T15:58:00.000+02:00

New shoots of the hardy banana Musa basjoo. Each year this grows into a 15 to 20 foot beast, depending on rainfall. It looks great against the stone back drop of the old cattle barn, never out of place and interestingly, not particularly tropical-esque, just great foliage.

The first frosts of winter cut it down and that's where I leave it until the following spring, the blackened foliage self-mulching and protecting the crown until April when I clear it away and cut it back close to the ground. It's a ritual at this time of year to keep checking for new shoots wondering whether it's survived and voila!!!

Lilly of the Valley or muguet de bois makes an appearance. Today is May day and in France it is the equivalent of Labour Day or Fête du Travail. The French have a charming tradition on May one of giving this little flower to friends and loved ones as a porte-bonheur, literally, a bringer of happiness and they are sold in little bunches on many street corners.

The unfurling fronds of Holly fern are a wellcome sight. I like ferns as mentioned in a previous post, The Filicarium, and give it a couple of weeks, the sight of all the croziers reaching to the sky simply says spring to me.

Corydalis has self seeded with abandon this year. I reckon it's something to do with the cold winter we've had. The Lilacs (of which failed to get a photo of and now past their best) are the same, somethings really come back with renewed vigour following a harsh season, I can't see any other explanation.

Not strictly relevant though it was nearly May when I put it together, my Ivy sphere. Hopefully there'll be a lot of growth this season and the frame will almost disappear.

Finally, my favourite thing in a pot, Convolvulus mauritanicus. A tender perennial, The first blooms are out and it should continue on and off until late September. I plan to try to take as many cuttings as I can this year as I simply can't get enough of it.

Hectic stuff

2010-04-19T20:58:00.000+02:00

We're busy people at the moment. The season's fast approaching and there's a million and one things to do, the 'mother' of all snagging lists!

The Thyme is fast filling out in the wall.

Decided to plant strawberries in the large urn. The fruit should look great as it trails down. This is an old French variety calles Anais, taste test to follow.

Pots of Bacopa. Kinda into white flowers at the moment, that includes the strawberry blooms.

240,000 Cosmos seedlings potted on. Well it felt like it. The varieties are Picotee and Rose.

Below is a masterclass in loafing. Growing in the large planter is Convolvulus mauritanicus.

Divisions of Pheasant grass, Stipa calamagrostis. This grass multiplies like crazy.

Deep, almost burgundy red Perlagonium. I wasn't convinced I'd grow any this year but I fell for the colour. Come high summer this plant will be overflowing with blooms just below the barn window

So that's a quick reccy of this and that. The alarm's set for an early start tomorrow.

Sleepers

2010-04-07T23:35:00.001+02:00

I think it's fair to say that the French take pride in the appearance of their railway stations. Often they're beautiful 19th century buildings with a slightly grand feel about them even when situated at quieter outposts such as my local station here in Les Eyzies.

I'd kept meaning to post this photograph taken a few summers back, and by the same token had intended to photo a lot of the local stations to me as they're all so well dressed and who can argue? It's not a bad view that, looking back over the tracks through blue Russian sage Perovskia, together with blooming Crepe Myrtle which the French call 'Lilas des Indes'.

The French railways, SNCF are currently re-laying large areas of new track. The landscaper's dream material, sleepers, are available everywhere and I kid you not, I picked up thirty for an absolute song.

The land pictured below is behind La Grande Maison and was at one time completely overgrown with brambles, nettles and horsetail. A few years back Karen and I cleared it, together with a further two areas which are effectively terraces which lead down to the river. Sadly, as we painstakingly revealed and cleaned the stone wall a large area on the right collapsed and we had to 'earth' it up to secure it. The plan is to cut steps into it using the sleepers as risers and treads which will give an easy descent down to the river.

When we'd finished clearing the area I simply grass seeded all the levels. This was the quick option and the lawn rapidly smothered many weeds which coupled with weekly mowing has weakened the horsetail and brambles to the point they've practically given up.

Eventually we may create a garden here, but in truth it's natural beauty is garden enough.

The Enemy

2010-03-27T16:02:00.003+01:00

Not a pretty sight these Chafer grubs. They really are one of the most loathsome pests in my garden and the battle to control them is not an easy one. They eat away at the fibrous roots of just about anything, much like weevil larvae, gradually weakening the plant which can ultimately result in death. There's a war on you know.

They seem particularly happy dwelling in pots which is bloody unfortunate as I grow a lot of things in containers. I read somewhere that they prefer soil free compost as there's less competition but I'm not convinced. I make my own compost and layer it every now and then with mole hill soil yet still they reside in it. I've lost loads of plants over the years to these little buggers. I say little, they can measure a good inch in length,probably nearer the size of that Ozzie culinary delight the Witchetty grub.

Streuth, bush tucker these ain't mate.

I've recently had to re-pot two topiaried Cupressocyparis Leylandii as they were showing all the signs of root attack. In fact such was the infestation that one of the trees had started leaning in its tub as the grubs had literally undermined it. As I teased the roots away from the old compost I must have revealed thirty or so, all of which were summarily dispatched avec boot!

Luckily they hadn't eaten the roots to a point beyond return, the trees seem quite happy in their new compost so disaster avoided.

There is chemical treatment, but goodness knows soil insecticides seem lethal and not something I wish to use. I believe there are nematodes but I can't source them here in France so maybe I'll try to find them in the UK.

Luckily they don't seem to be present in the citrus tubs. I've just brought these out of winter storage and they seem healthy as anything, the orange on the right (left is a lemon) is covered in buds so blossom isn't far away, all sans the enemy. On we march.

Hollyhocks, rust and me

2010-03-23T10:53:00.002+01:00

I love Hollyhocks. They are hugely popular over here and seed themselves around in so many locations, each 'volunteer' placed with more panache than any gardener can. I need to grow hollyhocks but for me there's always the small problem of rust. I'll say that again, RUST.

I guess it's just a case of rust and me. Last year I planted Malva sylvestris 'Primley blue' which started off doing just fine. Sure enough as time went on the rust crept in. I say crept, rather it engulfed the entire plant and by the end of the summer it was a complete mess.

Still I press on. Late last summer I received a free packet of Alcea rosea nigra seeds with Gardens Illustrated magazine. Sown as per instructions and overwintered in my cold frame, these have become strong little plants sprouting more and more from the base as the temperature continues to climb but then no, wait a minute, brown spots appearing on some of the leaves, RUST!

Determined to have hollyhocks, I've brought a number of Alcea ficifolia, hybrid of the fig leaved hollyhock which is more resistant to rust and insurance should my others badly succumb to the disease. The only trouble with this is that the colours are mixed so I don't know what I'm getting, they flower in shades of yellow through pink to red, so who knows.

Above is the bed where the hollyhocks are being planted out. Incredibly, most of the self sown Verbena bonariensis from last year has green shoots appearing, I really thought this winter's weather would have knocked them out but they're OK, there's a lot to be said about leaving the old stems and foliage in place as it offers protection from the frost. This gives me a head start as any of this years self seeding plants are unlikely to flower before July.

I've decided to grow Hyacinth bean this summer. The teepee in the middle of the border has 'sweetpea' written all over it but it bakes up there and mildew is likely to be a problem so I'm hoping this will be the answer. It may be a bit vigorous for the height of that twiggy structure, it's only two metres tall or so, but it'll just be a case of see what happens, which also applies to the wisdom of pairing it with hollyhocks, they may look good together or not, we'll see.

Finally, seed sowing is underway. I've planted a number of perennials which will flower next year and saves a small fortune growing from seed. Amongst their number are Echinacea 'Pink parasol', Nepeta transcaucasica 'Blue infinity', Verbena hastata 'Pink spires' and others.

The little blue crate has seedlings of annual Cosmos 'Sensation radiance rose' and 'sensation picotee'. The plan is to weave these through the hollyhocks and verbena bonariensis. Incidently, I must mention that the cosmos germinated in two days. No word of a lie, I seem to have quite good results using the plastic covered shelving system pictured, affectionately referred to as HQ!

Crackpot

2010-03-14T22:18:00.000+01:00

I have no luck at all when it comes to terracotta pots. Somehow, and quite how I'm not sure, I manage to break, crack or chip them, no special skill required. Add to that this winter's in excess of fifty frosts and the casualty list is large.

Truth is it leaves me flat. Apart from costing a small fortune, there's seasons of weathered patina which is irreplaceable, at what cost age?

The pot above is being held together with garden wire which you can see under the rim. It seems to work and is definitely preferable to losing it altogether. No, no, I don't want to lose this one. The new growth you can see is a Convolvulus, or more correctly and as sold to me, Convolvulus de Mauritanie which I've overwintered and now have started bringing into the enormously welcome spring sunshine.

That's frost damage above. I stuck it together with the latest wonder glue 'No more drilling' which is a bit similar to the 'No more nails' that I remember back in the UK. It boasts a strength of 100 kilos per centimetre squared. No more falling apart I hope, in fact has anyone a really good suggestion for fixing terracotta? I would be eternally grateful.

Another cracker above supporting an Agave americana and just crying out to be fixed with wire. I think I'll get on to that tomorrow morning.

Waiting to be planted, I'm particularly looking forward to seeing the Chocolate Cosmos this Summer. They should look good in a pot, cracked or not.

Finally, that's Harold. You wouldn't think he's sixteen would you?

Spring and the weather

2010-03-07T23:02:00.022+01:00

Deceptive the March sunshine. It has some power in it now, the sun index starting to curve up, the light bright, further enhanced as it illuminates a still stark landscape together with rapidly increasing daylength, but you know what, it's still bloody cold!

Spring is late, nightly frosts just keep coming and it's holding everything back. It's been the same over a great swathe of Europe this winter and the start to spring. For months our weather has come from the east. At times back in January and February there were cold blasts tracking all the way from Russia. These weather patterns are relatively rare and as a rule we look to the west for our weather, but there's an old saying 'when the wind is in the east 'tis neither fit for man nor beast' and this year it's held true.

Of course like everywhere the landscape here is full of micro climates. These pictures above are of my local village Les Eyzies. Sitting in the Vézère Valley, it's certainly a frost hollow, but being built into limestone cliffs it also becomes very warm during Summer as the heat radiates back from the rocks and frequently records some of the highest temperatures in the Dordogne. Back in August 2003, there were numerous occasions where 40 C. was reached or surpassed and most years there'll be a day or two when the temperature climbs close to that mark.

The Dordogne valley also has its fair share of climatic variations. Many an Autumn morning sees the chateau at Beynac (above) lit up by the early morning sun whilst the village below is shrouded in fog until early afternoon. Frequently this leads to a temperature inversion of up to five degrees with these 'pockets' of climate accounting for the considerable variance in first and last frost dates within the department.

La Roque Gageac's sheltered south facing position has allowed a tropical garden to be developed over the years. It's quite something to climb ever higher through it's narrow streets adorned with bougainvillea and tender palms. Again, the limestone acts as a great big radiator increasing heating degrees and raising night time minima.

Even the spectacular park and gardens at Marqueyssac (They were featured in this months Gardens Illustrated magazine) support microclimate within microclimate. A belvedere elevated just above the cold pooling valley air, its southern flank supports trees such as Montpellier Maples more typical of the Mediterranean whilst to the north Hornbeams and Holm Oaks are more typical.

No matter what the micro climate maybe, this winter has dragged on. Sure enough in terms of absolute minimum temperature it's zone 8, but this years frequency of frost makes it feel harsher. It's forecast -6 tonight, sigh, there's so much waiting to be done, but all is on hold until a change in the weather.

PS Marqueyssac photo was taken back in September '09.

Thyme

2010-02-24T00:01:00.002+01:00

I think I've mentioned before the difficulty I have planting up the 'walls' in the courtyard around the Grande Maison. Despite best attempts to improve it over the years, the shallow soil leaches away nutrients in no time, proceeds to bake in summer heat and has the water retention of a sieve. Last year it did OK with Nasturtiums. For a few weeks, 'Empress of India' took off, flowering profusely on it's starvation diet which nasturtium love, that is before the insect population of the world descended and devoured it in record time. Shame, could have been a beautiful thing.

My sister suggested that I plant Thyme. Sensible really, it's the perfect growing environment for a mediterranean herb and although I welcome it's culinery significance, I already grow it in a little herb 'area', I wasn't entirely convinced how it might look. Well todays visit to the garden section at supermarket E. Leclerc brushed aside any aesthetic fears I may have had as four varieties were on sale at just a euro fifty each. Decent sized pot too.

From left to right above, Thymus faustini, T. citriodorus 'Doone Valley', T. citriodorus 'Aureus' and another lemon thyme, 'Bertrand Anderson'. I brought thirty pots in total and spent an hour or so putting them in this afternoon. Do I need to tell you the smell is just terrific?

Of course I've fallen for thyme before. These pictured back in November are T. Preacox 'Snowdrift', a creeping variety. Sadly there's not much fragrance with this one but hopefully the late spring flowering should more than compensate for that as I'm reliably informed they're a mass of white flowers so watch this spot!

Timber

2010-02-14T23:06:00.002+01:00

The Alder tree grows profusely all along the riverbank here at Le Banquet. It's a bit of a weed as it seeds itself about with as much ease as Sycamore. Conditions are perfect as it loves to have 50 percent of its roots in water which is all well and good but eventually erosion and tunneling from various animals can undermine the root structure and lead to the tree leaning at quite an angle. This becomes a concern when it's near to property, believe me. I always get twitchy whenever the wind gets up so it was time to have it felled.

There were six trunks growing from this tree, five were felled, but one had to be dismantled piece by piece as it was so close to 'La Fermette'. Pictured above is Matt who did the job. He'd 'march' up the tree with the ease of a bear (he's wearing tree climbing spikes) loop a rope around near the top which in turn was then tied to the towing bar on the 4 x 4. The car would then reverse to put tension on the tree, a cut was made and (((thud))), it's down. All very exciting.

No Vertigo there then, none whatsoever.

All the trunks and large branches were neatly cut into 50 centimetre lengths,

so much firewood, I reckon there's a good six cubic metres or thereabouts. Give it a year or so exposed to the elements and it'll be good to burn. 'Seasoned' is the correct term. Apparently trees felled in winter have a lower water content than those felled in summer which means they need less drying time.

The potential heat output from wood is measured as a 'calorific' value. Hardwoods such as Oak and Ash have high calorific value which means they generate a lot of heat when burnt, softwoods a lot less. I don't think Alder has a particularly high number, but it's not bad so I'll be using it next winter.

You can see a table of the heating output that various wood gives by clicking here.

Karen and I spent most of the weekend burning the twigs and small branches, It's been nice standing around a bonfire as it's been another cold, slate grey day.

Pruning and Planting Trees

2010-02-02T21:57:00.002+01:00

Despite cold nights, recent days have been mainly sunny and feeling mild. I like February, the sun starts to have some strength and the increasing daylight allows more time to get things done.

After being cooped up for weeks decorating, plumbing and generally immersed in DIY, finally being able to get outside and catch up around the garden is pure therapy.

Back in the Autumn, after rebuilding the stone steps here, I decided that as a finishing touch I'd plant a tree down at the edge where they meet the lawn. Well it had to be a Cypress de Provence. Cupressus sempervirens var. stricta to be exact, also known as Italian Cypress or Pencil pine but as I blog from here in France, then from Provence it is.

Just as soon as the we get a break in the frosty nights (anytime from Thursday onwards) I'll get on and plant it with as much TLC as befits my most expensive plant purchase for some time. Spadefuls of manure, compost, handfuls of hoof and horn, maybe a little light conversation, that kind of thing, certainly better treatment than my method of transportation, I drove the 50 kilometres or so from the nursery near Bergerac with the tree sticking out of the car window. At some 30 kph below the average speed limit and in a country where tail 'gating' is the national sport, trust me when I say this was an interesting journey.

Beautiful days such as these are just made for pruning. This is an activity I enjoy, you feel like you're back in control after months of gloom and neglect. I have to climb on a step ladder to get to the back of the nameless yellow rose here on the gable end to the long barn.

Pruning away, all feels good in the February sunshine, even if the temperature drops like a stone at nightfall.

La Fête de la Truffe

2010-01-17T21:50:00.003+01:00

As Paula Wolfert suggests in her authoritative book The Cooking of South - West France:

'Something so magnificent must, inevitably, corrupt. Well- truffles will ruin your bank account; as for your virtue, they may ruin that, too.'

Is there any food in the world more surrounded in mystery and intrigue than the truffle?

This weekend saw Sarlat host this region's annual celebration of La Truffe, the black 'diamond' of the Perigord.

With thirty seven producteurs displaying sixty kilos of tuber melanosporum, the heady scent perfumed the entire market square and beyond with an aroma that's both indescribable and unique.

There was an enormous variety of truffle based products for sale. Truffle aperitif, truffled chocolate, truffle cheese, coffee served with a truffle and cream froth, the list went on.

At the stroke of midday, a long line formed leading to a large tent where two chefs lovingly stirred the brouillard, an egg, butter and truffle mixture, gently churned over an enormous bain-marie achieving an almost fondant texture. At once luxurious yet rustic at the same time, it was carefully doled out into little plastic cups to be eaten with a teaspoon savouring every truffly note, such is la truffe's affinity for eggs.

In addition to laying on a truly memorable lunch, the organisers had prepared a busy events itinery which included cookery demonstrations by no less than five michelin starred chefs,

It's a curious thing this subterranean fungus. It lives in a mycorrhizal intimacy with just a handful of tree species, predominately oak though occasionally black pine or hazel.

Although dogs and pigs are frequently used to find truffles, some of the more experienced hunters known as rabassiers will simply look for the little truffle flies which on warm winter days hover in small clouds above the tubers.

You know, it's days like these that make one realise that this really is la France profonde. Deep France, embracing its rural culture away from the hegemony of Paris, rich in tradition, something very magical.

Its That Time Again

2010-01-14T22:55:00.000+01:00

The bright spot in January's murk? Seed packets of course.

I have hoarded literally packets upon packets in recent years and with many unopened or barely touched the pile just gets bigger. The reality is I have a problem chucking any away. I'm more than happy to gift them to people, but sooner or later it becomes apparent that gifting starts to resemble 'backdoor' refuge, more off loading than good intention and all because I have this problem doing away with any that are unused or no longer a whim. Sigh.

If there's one corporate department that consistently enjoys inflation busting increases, it has to be the creative people handling the packaging etc at all the various seed companies worldwide.

The presentation just seems to get better and better. Some of the designs are so perfectly 'chocolate box' you simply have to avoid ripping open the packet at all cost. Better to gently steam the gummed flap over a kettle, avoiding any damage whatsoever and gingerly remove the little packet from inside.

Of course there are others that take a different approach. Packed in super strength foil with a label printed in courier or other straight talking fonts, these are the no- nonsense, 'does what it says on the tin' brigade. Rip them open, chuck the seed at the compost and take cover.

Well I 've pretty much made my seed choices for this year. Pink Cosmos is on the list, it simply has to be. So far the others are;

Annuals

Cosmos bipinnatus ' purity'

Nicotiana sylvestris

Nicotiana mutabilis

Verbena x hybrida 'blue lagoon'

Perennials

Crambe cordifolia

Digitalis parviflora

Echinacea paradoxa

Echinacea purpurea 'pink parasol'

Nepeta transcaucasia 'blue infinity'

Verbena hastata 'blue spires'

This list will grow, it always does, but old favourites inevitably creep in. For one, I find Nicotiana sylvestris 'only the lonely' practically irreplaceable. With its white tubular bells and six foot leafy stature, I can't think what would look better, particularly during the evening down near the riverside terrace.

So with the seed displays strategically placed at garden centres, catalogues dropping in the post box and daylight just starting to lengthen, it just feels like it'll be no time before things get busy in the garden, but then there was no real down time. We all know that.

Happy New pH

2010-01-04T00:00:00.001+01:00

If there's one thing that I can say came good in 2009, it was the soil.

Over the years I've gone to considerable effort trying to improve both its structure and pH, adding horse manure by the sackload, barrowloads of compost , leafmould and practically anything that I think might give it some benefit.

It's good stuff now. I'm really pleased that the pH is now in a range which is more suitable for roses. It's the roses that prompted me to really improve the soil. It was thin, unloved earth when I first arrived here. The pH at that time read at about 7.5 or so, too limey or 'sweet' to get really good rose blooms. Not so now, at about 6.8 the soil is moving in the right direction which I'm sure was a major contributor to 2009 being a 'good year for the roses'.

Having good soil does bring its problems. I never understood the wisdom of planting woody herbs, or sub shrubs such as lavender at the feet of roses. Sure enough as a pairing the aesthetics are spot on. In fact my favourite is Nepeta, Its just that all these plants actually benefit from a little neglect. Too rich an environment and they don't bloom too well, but roses, heavy feeders right? You take my point.

I guess it's all about balance. I neglected Geranium 'Johnsons blue' and Campanula 'Elizabeth' and they took off, simply romped away.

I will incorporate a bit of compost into this little bed later in the winter however. I mean, there's neglect and then there's neglect, so I'll not divorce myself from all responsibility.

The red rose, 'La sevillana' responded to a little earth TLC. I can honestly say that this is the most floriferous it has ever been. Just add horse manure and stand back.

So if there's one thing that 2009 really highlighted for me, it was the wisdom of working a good soil.I say working loosely. I never dig. I simply scatter or mulch and the worms and beetles do the rest.

So anyway, I wish you all a prosperous, healthy, happy and peaceful 2010.

May your gardens bloom and your compost be alive!

Mistletoe and Christmas

2009-12-20T21:19:00.000+01:00

As if on cue, snow has arrived in this corner of southwest France and very festive it is too.

The chateau at Campagne, a hamlet just nearby looks as if straight out of a fairytale or perhaps the set for Merlin. Just perfect.

Even rosehips have a yule-tide ring to them, napped with a little white stuff, good enough to hang on the front door.

Equally of the season, though a little more curious are the bunches of mistletoe growing in the trees.

I came across these just outside Bergerac on the route de Bordeaux. I just need to 'shin' up and take a bunch.

Well everything winds down for Christmas now as I contemplate the travel chaos that is Europe at the moment. If I can cross the channel without stress then I'll be thankful!

I wish you and yours a very peaceful Christmas and a happy new year.

Time

2009-12-06T23:07:00.000+01:00

When's the best time to plant a tree? 20 years ago of course.

You see for me, that's exactly it, time. That most precious of commodities, ticking away, inevitably leads me to plumping up the till at various garden centres for that mature plant. Instant gratification. Well by way of an early new year resolution I intend to propagate more plants through cuttings and seed than in previous years for two good reasons; first it's immensely satisfying and second I'll save a small fortune. The only drawback is it all takes a little more time.

Pictured above are some Buddleja cuttings I took back in the summer. I can't tell you exactly which variety it is, it was a big bush just growing along the side of the road from which I took a few small sprigs, got them home, cleaned them up, cut just below a node and they rooted in no time.

But it gets addictive you know. In this cold frame I've got rooted cuttings of Nepeta 'six hills giant', Penstemon 'Mrs Hindley' and 'Blackbird' plus an unidentified one from a friends garden, Solanum, Fuchsia ricartonii, Sedum, a trailing mallow, again I can't tell you which as I didn't keep the original label, some variegated Ivy just for the heck of it and some seed grown plants of the deepest maroon hollyhock, Alcea rosea var. Nigra which came as a free gift with Gardens Illustrated magazine back in about August.

Of everything, I'm especially pleased at how easy it was to get the Solanum to root. This was an expensive plant to buy but it takes easily. I just made a cut between nodes and plunged the cuttings into a mix of sharp sand, grit and a bit of compost and it was away. Now I have twelve young plants which should grow into good sized plants next season, just a bit of time and patience.

Ok ok, I know, Sedum is possibly the easiest plant to propagate. For some reason I took seventy leaf cuttings and now have nearly seventy small plants. I really don't have space for them so I guess I'll give them away.

Finally, below are Box cuttings I took about three weeks ago. I've put them on the radiator in the kitchen window. Although November is a little late to take cuttings, the continued mild weather has kept many things in growth so they were worth a shot. With the radiator set barely above frost stat, I'm hoping that the gentle bottom heat will get them to root. I mist them with water two or three times a day so they've not dried out. I'll check for roots next weekend.

Now if there's one plant that takes time it's Box.

Forever Green

2009-11-23T22:57:00.000+01:00

There's practically no colour left in the garden, none at all. Three or four nights of killing frost back in October put paid to that and it seems slightly strange in this unseasonably warm November weather that the only thing blooming is some herb Robert (Geranium robertianum) down near the river.

Well at least there's always green. Above are little pots of creeping thyme, (Thymus Preacox) 'Snowdrift'. Of little culinary significance these are not a chefs choice but come spring the new growth will spill over the sides and they'll just burst with hundreds of tiny white flowers.

I think Ivy is underrated. I know it has the ability to aim for world domination when left unchecked but who can blame it for having ambition.

These triple balls of Leylandii hold their own throughout the winter. During the summer, self seeding Himalayan balsam, Impatiens balfourii spring up in the cracks along the wall. Their wild habit looks great with the formal topiary and although they're another 'ambitious' plant, it's simple enough to weed out the extras.

Asplenium trichomanes, the Maiden hair spleenwort grows in all but south facing walls and rocks. Ever present, more and more appear as the foliage behind which they once hid dissapears.

The lily of the Valley bush, Mahonia x media 'Charity' is actually just starting to form its yellow blooms though it's the foliage I really like with this plant. It's a little slow growing for me, but eventually it'll get to about three metres in height and a fine specimen it will be.

Well what can I say, the embellishment at the end of the fence, well it's green right?

Stepping Stones

2009-11-18T10:19:00.003+01:00

I know I've said it before, but this really is a busy time of the year for Karen and I here at Le Banquet. It's all systems go in the DIY stakes at the moment, both inside and out.

Apart from interior decorating, attending to plumbing issues and fitting new bathrooms, there's also hardscaping that needs to be done. I like that term hardscaping, I feel qualified to use it in my role as jack of all trades, and okay, possibly expert in none but all the same, hardscaping it is and I'm sticking to it.

I'm referring to my recently finished step building project. The old ones that lead from the parking area down to the path have disintegrated over the years. Winter weather always left them a little more perished come the spring and remedial patching up was exactly that, patching them up.

After gently dismantling the old steps with a sledgehammer, I made up some wooden frames to form the shape for the new risers and mixed and poured concrete into the forms. A couple of days later and they were ready to be finished with stone.

Limestone is abundant all around Le Banquet and throughout this part of the Dordogne. It is and has been for centuries the principle building material in the area. Photographed above are the ruins of a once cannonball factory originally constructed during the reign of Louis XV. It's literally just behind the houses here and these days it serves as something of a folly with its grand arches and sheer scale. I spent many an hour wandering in and around this impressive structure as it sits immediately on the edge of my land as I scoured the ground for suitable pieces of rock and stone, most of which I gleaned from under the thickets of brambles by the river.

Luckily, I'd saved some good square pieces from a few years back when we renovated the old cattle barn. These simply needed cutting to size (ish) with a disc cutter, the flat pieces on the tops just 'dressing' a bit with a chisel and it was just a simple case of bedding them all in with sharp sand and cement once they'd all been cleaned. All that remained to do was to joint them up once the mortar had gone off.

Jointing up is the best bit as it pulls everything together. I used a locally quarried sand called Liorac which has a nice colour. It's used a lot for external render called 'Crepi'.

Above is a product called Rénocal. It's two thirds hydraulic lime to one third high performance white cement together with other additives to give water and weather resistance. It's used a lot in renovation over here. I mixed three parts sand to one part of this and proceeded with pressing it into all the joints. After covering it up overnight, the next morning when the mortar had partially gone off, armed with a soft wire brush I brushed out all the excess to leave clean joints and re -expose any small pieces of stone which may have been hidden. Very satisfying.

Et voilà. The steps are finished. I reckon it'll take a couple of weeks for the joints to harden fully and achieve the right colour. I pinched that pineapple thingy out of the little herb garden and set it on the top corner as a finishing touch.

Marseille to Cassis

2009-11-05T11:27:00.003+01:00

We've recently returned from a short break sailing under blue skies on France's Mediterranean coast.

What a treat to drive down to Provence passing through the Languedoc en route to a special rendezvous in the old port at Marseille. Leaving the beautiful earthy Perigord for a landscape punctuated with tall Cypress, prostrate Juniper and silver Olive is a real tonic for diminishing daylength and ever cooler evenings.

Although our time in Marseille was limited, its history and grandoise intentions were inescapable as we left by ferry for our final destination, the Isle du Frioul where we were to meet Karen's family aboard their catamaran.

Visible from just about anywhere near the port, the Byzantine Romanesque Nouvelle Cathédrale de la Major is an imposing structure, its first stone was laid by Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte on the 26th September 1852.

On board the ferry we passed the island fortress of Le Château d'If, located on the Îsle d'If.

In Alexandre Dumas' book 'The Count of Monte Christo', the principle character was imprisioned here, isolated on an island penitentiary where escape was theoretically impossible (think Alcatraz).

Ain't she beautiful? This was the real deal. On arrival at Frioul we were greeted by the catamaran Hakuna Matata, our home to be for the next few days.

My brother in law aka 'skipper' has sailed this boat across the Atlantic and back, toured the Carribean and visited many ports in southern Europe. It isn't even his day job! If you want to read more, click here.

Many a bonheur was spent sailing in and around The Calanques, a series of limestone cliffs, fjords and rocky promontories which plunge into the Mediterranean for about 20 km of coastline immediately to the south-east of Marseille before arriving at our final destination the ancient fishing port of Cassis.

So Much To Do

2009-10-24T20:28:00.001+02:00

Isn't Autumn the busiest time? So much to do. Pruning, clearing leaves, mulching, moving tender plants, fleece wrapping some in situ. emptying pots, turning the compost heap etc. etc. etc. Of course all this has to be done in ever shortening daylength and that's before I collect the three billion or so walnuts that practically carpet the gravel parking area.

Along with chestnuts (the tree of which is still occasionally referred to as l'arbre a pain, the bread tree, since at one time everyday bread was necessarily made of chestnut flour) walnuts were once a major part of the diet here in the Perigord. Highly calorific, they were good sustenance for a rural living spent working in the fields. I reckon on picking up enough to sustain a large family of bears through winter.

Of course these days, walnuts and chestnuts are vital ingredients in achieving confectionery perfection.

And then there are all those leaves. This is just the beginning. Soon the car park will disappear under a thick bed of feuilles, dutifully they will be raked, piled up and covered with a black plastic sheet. Left for a year or so, the result is top notch leaf mould. Veritable black gold.

This stuff is alive. As soon as we get 'killing' frosts and I can get to all the beds I'll spread this with abandon.

Talking of living things, my compost bins are a little depleted right now, but then over the coming weeks there will be plenty with which to fill them.

Another Autumn freebie I've been collecting are pine needles. The woods around here are full of pine and I have no doubt that the French probably think I'm just an insane Englishman raking these up, but I intend to try them as a mulch as I've heard good reports and Phillip over at Dirt Therapy thinks they're very pleasing on the eye.

This is also the time of year that I tend to get any outdoor repairs and DIY done. I'm currently rebuilding the steps that lead from the carpark using reclaimed stone. Building them is the easy part, finding the stone is another story. I must have scrutinised every inch of the grounds at Le Banquet trying to find suitable pieces. Each and every one has to be jet washed and many 'dressed' with a hammer and cold chisel but they should look nice when eventually finished. Anyway, I'll save this for anther post when the project is complete.

Oh, and did I mention all those leaves? Of course I did.

Rouge

2009-10-09T13:11:00.000+02:00

Finally the garden becomes more convinced that this is in fact October and Summer has past.

They've been a long time turning, but both the Virginia Creeper and the Sumac trees are starting to 'flush'. It all seems later this year. I know the reduction in daylight plays it part, but the unseasonably warm start to the month appears to have held things back a little.

It's been so mild in fact, that Karen and I sat outside with friends on the terrace until 1a.m. on Monday night, not usual at this time of year but hey, we profit from this kind weather known as a Spanish 'plume', an airmass with a long southerly track, it's origins in North Africa and which now bathes this corner of south west France.

This is the latest addition to the garden. Malus Evereste, a beautiful crab apple. The fruits look stunning and by all accounts the blossom is really something.

I've taken every effort to give it the best start possible, digging a hole twice the width of the tub and quite a bit deeper, shovelling in loads of compost and a good handfull or two of blood and bone which you can see pictured below

I'm so pleased with this tree, I wish it would reach maturity in say, a season but, patience is a virtue, right?

This rose shouldn't be here. It struggled for the first couple of years and I thought it was simply going to expire. Amazingly it's put on loads of healthy growth this year. I say amazing as I did my level best to neglect it. I planted it to replace an old rose that died in exactly the same spot. Little heed was taken about replant sickness and little ammendment was made to the soil at time of planting. To add insult to injury, I thought it was called 'Danse du Feu' but actually it's closer in appearance to 'Danse des Sylphes' though the bloom colour is a darker red.

Finally, the rougest of the rouge, dahlia 'bishop of llandaff' which has bloomed better in a pot than it ever did in the ground.

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

2009-09-27T18:00:00.017+02:00

It's that time of year. The markets around France are brimful with the season's best produce, I love it. These are a few snaps taken as Karen and I wandered around Bergerac market yesterday morning.

Oysters are everywhere. There are even stalls by the roadside. Generally available when the month has an 'R' in it, the French LOVE oysters and so do I.

Down in Basque country, they like to eat them with sizzling hot little spicy sausages called lou-kenkas which have some resemblance to the chorizos of Spain.

I like them with a finely diced scrap of red onion, a splash of tabasco and washed down with a chilled sauvignon blanc!

Chestnuts were once something of a staple here, along with walnuts, both are highly calorific.

Oh for a duck sausage with chestnuts and fried green apple on the side.

A glut of tomatoes. Sensibly, this stall sold enormous buches of basil. The air was perfumed, I could smell the basil from fifty paces.

Gateaux, gateaux, gateaux! lashings of custard with mine, or should that be the rather nicer named Creme Anglais.

OK, so I know it's just a box of carrots, but the point is this was just one of the many small holders selling true garden produce. There's no interference from the wise ones in Brussels here. You know the types, passing laws to ban bent bananas etc....

Finally, I leave you with a nice collage of gourds and things, so, just a taster of a French market. I'm off now as there's a bottle of 2005 Bergerac rouge with my name on it. By the way of stating the obvious, the post title is from John Keat's (31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821) Ode to Autumn.

Les Jardins du Manoir d'Eyrignac

2009-09-22T23:23:00.001+02:00

Listed by the Ministry of Culture as a Jardin Remarquable, the formal gardens at the Manoir d'Eyrignac are an exceptionally fine example of the Italian influence that spread throughout French gardens during the 17th and 18th centuries.

The house and gardens have been in the possession of the same family for some 500 years and it's current glory today is the passion of owners Patrick and Capucine Sermadiras who, together with their son Gilles continue to live in the manor and oversee all aspects of the gardens development and upkeep.

Last Sunday was my fourth visit to Eyrignac this year. I'm fortunate in that it's only 25 minutes drive from here so it's easy to spend an afternoon exploring one of France's grandest green spaces.

Located over 4 hectares, Eyrignac contains fine examples of topiary and prides itself on using old methods wherever possible. Domed standards of White Mulberry are clipped expertly with shears as are striking 'cakestands' of Yew together with some 45,000 m2 of Box and Hornbeam hedges. All the clipping and mowing waste are collected and reused three years later as organic compost.

Even apple and pear trees have been shaped and trained into mature standards which looks quite something when they bear fruit.

Throughout, the gardens are punctuated with Cypress and prostrate Juniper, emblematic of Mediterranean lanscapes which together with gently trickling water features add a further dimension to what is really a very tranquil and calm place.

Things to do list

2009-09-14T19:38:00.005+02:00

I always find myself just going through the gardening 'motions' at this time of year.

In Christopher Lloyd's The Gardening Year, he warns against it, quote, 'The danger in a September garden - you see it everywhere - is sleaze'.

I was almost mechanically deadheading the yellow rose up by the gable end when inevitably I drifted off into thoughts about changing this and that, what failed, what worked, what to do next really. Yes it's that time of year.

Having just read Anna's post over at Greentapestry I thought I'd jot down a non too exhaustive list.

1. I really should grow Verbascum. The cosmos up in the bed near the cattle barn ran out of steam too early. It bakes up in that border, the verbena bonariensis loves it, so will verbascum, I'm wondering if I start some from seed in the next week or so whether it'll flower in time for next summer?

2. Take more care over composting. I have three 'bins' made from palettes, I turn one into the other every three months or so and have to say that the resulting compost looks really good. Well, it would be if it wasn't so full of weed seed. Oh and nicotiana, why did I compost the entire plant? I need to insulate the heap better, make it hotter and take more care.

3. I will, will, will purchase a stunning agarve next Spring to grow in a pot on the wall.

4. Move the leaf mould from last season instead of piling up the new leaf litter on top. This is a vrai job of work as I have mountains of leaf compost (mostly walnut) from last Autumn and it only serves to make life more dificult having to dig under the current leaf fall to get at the good stuff.

5. Alliums, alliums, alliums. I'm going to plant ornamental onions along both sides of the pergola so I need to buy the bulbs sooner rather than later.

6. Aquire some more Miscanthus. I'm really taken with miscanthus sinensis malepartus.

7. Take more cuttings. I've currently got lots of penstemon and sedum cuttings, together with fucshia riccartonii, but it's never enough. I might try rooting hormone this time.

8. Sit down and read the camera user manual.

Well, there's the 'tip' of the Iceberg as they say...

Busy at the moment

2009-09-06T16:21:00.007+02:00

Summer continues in this corner of southwest France. Ok, I know September is officially Autumn, but I like to think of today as August 37th, still Summer right?

It's still busy here at Le Banquet. We've had guests from all over the world, Australia, Canada, New Zealand, Oman, France, Germany, Italy,Luxembourg, Netherlands, Belgium, USA and of course the UK and Eire. You get to meet the most interesting people in this business.

Aside, I took a little time to create a couple of collages of things around and about the garden. Some you'll have seen before but a second go never hurts. Incidently, I've invested in a new camera, not that I'm getting full use of it yet, no, no, everytime I attempt to read the manual, all 40,000,000 pages of it, well it leaves me wanting to reach for the Hemlock. Eventually I'll get to it. Eventually!

Canne de Provence

2009-08-31T12:22:00.011+02:00

These are Arundo Donax or Spanish reed growing along one end of the swimming pool at my holiday cottages, Le Relais des Roches, which are located further into town from here at Le Banquet. I much prefer the French name; 'Canne de Provence'.

Anyway, the reason for this post is simply to let you know just how easy propagation can be.

I'll explain. Every winter I cut the brown, frosted canes back to the ground and dump them in a little area that I keep for, well, dumping stuff really, vegetative matter only of course. Inadvertently I had actually 'layered' the canes as lo and behold the ones at the bottom of the pile grew new shoots vertically, new plants in effect complete with their own little root systems.

It was just a simple matter of cutting out a little piece of stem section and potting the new plant on.

Voila! pictured above is a new plantlet still attached to the layered stem together with its roots.

Needless to say I've potted them on and now need to find a home for them. They make a great foliage curtain or look grand growing as a big clump. The stems can reach to 4 metres in a season and they rustle gently in the breeze. There are no particular water requirements either. Sure enough I watered the parent plants well for their first season but after that nothing. Hardy to zone 7, these are low maintenance statuesque plants.

Happy in new pots, increasing your stock of these plants is as easy as ABC!

Rose Identity - please!

2009-08-24T22:30:00.005+02:00

I wonder if anyone could identify this yellow rose?

It grows up on the end gable of the long barn. It was here long before I arrived, before the previous owners and the people before them, so it's old, probably some 30 years old.

It's a beauty. It cloaks the stonework and is about 3 metres high. It has a first flush in June, blooms sporadically through Summer and has another flush about now.

The blooms start off a deep yellow and fade as they age. I am simply the guardian of this rose, pruning and feeding it but I would love to know its name. Any ideas? Anyone.

See, I said it was a beauty!

A Good Year?

2009-08-20T01:35:00.006+02:00

The Summer weather has been good across southern France this year. The last time it was this good was back in 2005 which following a pleasant early autumn led to one of the best wine vintages ever. Many will wax lyrically about the extraordinaire '05, the once in a century vintage that saw shelves stripped of red Bordeaux as the world and 'their dog' clambered to get a piece of what is an impeccable wine. Is 2009 going the same way?

Spring was relatively dry. No deluges in May which can diminish yields as this is when the vines flower, unlike back in 2007 when the skies were forever opening. Of course the blame for then was put squarely at the feet of the little girl, La Niña.
No, no, Spring was warm and sunny and Summer has followed suit. If this good weather continues through September then it could all make for a happy vendange or harvest. Indeed, should things pan out favourably then the harvest will be put back. It's a moveable feast and if the weather's kind, then the grapes will be left on the vine longer to absorb the rays of the sun and be able to deliver wines packed with 'fruit'. It's all about timing.

I've noticed the vines here at Le Banquet yielding enormous bunches of grapes this year. I couldn't tell you what variety they are, they've been in the ground for some 150 years or so and serve only as decoration but fruit laden they are all the same.

Aside from the maybe or maybe nots of the pending vintage, around this time of year I find myself making a few changes around the garden. A bit of garden editing if you like. I'll swap this with that, that with this and inevitably make a purchase of some sort as a bit of retail therapy never goes amiss. This year is no exception and I present you below my new sunshine face thingymejig. Sunshine and vines make good friends.

Bulrush of the Bible

2009-08-08T19:07:00.004+02:00

Things are hectic here at the moment. Family are over, all the gites are occupied and France is on holiday so I've a lot on. Needless to say blogging has taken something of a back seat but I thought I'd post up the Cyperus papyrus shown above. I actually intended to mention it in plants in pots 2 but completely forgot..

Although an aquatic, it does well in a pot as long as there's a saucer underneath and it gets a decent feed every week or two and a good splash of water when dry. The hairdo at the top of each stem is correctly called a culm. As each one opens up they become almost spherical and I think they look really graceful.

A fast grower, this one is a metre sixty high from a seventy centimetre plant in mid spring.

As for overwintering? I'm not sure how best to get it through. It'll certainly not take any frost, maybe a houseplant we'll see.

Harry Patch

2009-08-06T14:07:00.004+02:00

Rest in peace Harry Patch, the 'last Tommy' whose funeral has taken place today.

Harry died age 111 and spent most of his life talking of reconciliation following the horrors of World War One.

The last living link with the Great War, he was a man who talked sense. Click here for more.

In the Midnight Garden

2009-07-28T21:52:00.005+02:00

They come alive you know

These are some of the stars from the festival des épouvantails (scarecrows) held anually in the village of Meyrals near Les Eyzies.

Head this way if you're feeling peckish.

Easy does it as you pass the metal spider. No sudden movement!

The Joker's on you.

There's an army of them and they're on the move.

How about a 'cup o' tea an' a slice o' cake' for Worzel Gummidge and Aunt Sally?

Everybody's happy, but beware, things may be different after dark!

Willy de Wilde (again)

2009-07-22T22:08:00.017+02:00

Pépinière du Lac des Joncs, near Rouffignac, is a truly wonderful nursery. I blogged about it back in March here . Home of Monsieur Willy de Wilde, this is a gem of a place, not just because of the great selection of perennials and grasses but because of all the other touches such as the dry garden (pictured) , the seriously beautiful stone buildings plus all the help and advice you need courtesy of master propagator and plantsman Willy . All is well at chez de Wilde.

I mentioned previously that this is a great place to find many varieties of Ivy. Now that's a sentence that may not 'float' everyone's boat, but I like Ivy and it's a plant which I'm hoping will be a problem solver for a difficult area in front of La Grande Maison. The short wall which runs the length of the terrace also acts as a stone planter. The soil is inevitably impoverished. the micro-climate is harsh (it gets hot in the courtyard, 37 C yesterday) and I struggle to get anything to grow. I planted Nasturtium 'Empress of India' this year and already they're dwindling plus acting as complete martyrs to pests. Black aphids love 'em. So plan B, I'm planting Ivy.

They're small leafed varieties which should grow quick and cascade a bit. The plan is hopefully to have the wall cloaked in green for next year and to introduce colour with a number of well positioned pots planted with I don't know what as yet.

Completely off topic, early yesterday morning this flew over Le Banquet and landed in the next field. Oh to balloon in the Vézère Valley! I was lucky enough to get a photo. Incidentially, if you want to see more images of this beautiful part of the world, please visit my other blog Dordogne Daily Pic.

Still Standing

2009-07-16T00:02:00.000+02:00

It had been dry for about a month until the early hours of Tuesday morning. Dry and at times hot with temperatures sometimes reaching 36C and many hours of unbroken sunshine.

I seem to have spent a lot of time these last few weeks repositioning the sprinkler and hose to needy areas of lawn around the various buildings in an effort to keep them not only green but in some spots alive. At least it's a simple enough task to then spin the tap and let irrigation begin. Not so the rest of the garden . That becomes a ruddy good workout. On average, each evening I've been lugging about 35 cans of water around the place ensuring everything gets a good soak but it's never a perfect replacement for soft Summer rain. I should point out that I'm lucky to have a small well, fed from a source which filters through the limestone rock further uphill. All I need do is dunk the cans into the water and I'm away, no lengthy waiting for the tap to fill the bucket.

Early Tuesday morning and all change as some very lively thunderstorms moved across and dumped a good couple inches of rain. Lots of electrical activity too. You know the kind. Lightning that's almost constant and lights up everything outside clear as day, plus, for good measure the ensuing thunder claps make you jumpy and wonder whether something nearby has taken a direct hit, there's something about a valley that just plays tricks with the acoustics.

First light and I shot out to see what had been knocked back. Some of the Cosmos lay horizontal, but nothing too serious. Some roses needed 're-tying in' but all in all not too bad. Amazingly the Nicotiana sylvestris (pictured) was still standing as if nothing had gone on. Everywhere feels alive again. There's green creeping back into the lawns which, sadly means I'm going to have to resume mowing again.

Plants in Pots part 2

2009-07-06T20:53:00.000+02:00

Pelargoniums. I can never make up my mind about the oft' called geranium. I quite like these though, not so in your face as some of them can be. I might 'overwinter' these and take some cuttings for insurance.

As near to blue as I've seen Verbena. This sits at the edge of the wall by the tobacco drying barn. The daisies behind are 'Mexican Fleabane' , Erigeron karvinskianus, I'm hoping they'll seed themselves about in the stone walls for next summer.

Australian Fan flower, Scaevola aemula. For fear of stating the obvious, I'll not mention that I'm very into blue flowers this year, OK.

Rose William Shakespeare, a David Austin rose.

Finally, below, Imperata cylindrica 'Rubra' or Japanese Blood Grass. This looks really good in a pot and probably deserves better positioning than sitting on my terrace with a possibly overmixed assortment of plants in pots. I think I'm going to take some time out and arrange all of them together a bit more creatively, complimentary groupings if you like rather than the current state of ad hoc kleptomania.