When standing stones don't stay still

It is an unspoken truth in the Dordogne that its country dwelling places are biodegradable. This applies to farmhouses, the attendant barns, pig sheds and workers’ cottages. Obviously it is not true of chateaux, maisons de maître and the little shrines over springs and holy places. But it is true of the rest, hence, until very recently, any man who was a man had to be able to pop up on his roof and fix any leaks immediately.

there is actually a professional roofer up there somewhere

The original manner of construction began with a pile of chalk stones gathered from the fields. These were put into shallow channels anywhere between 40 cms and 50 cms wide. As they rose to become walls the outer sides were sealed with a form of mortar and the inner with mud.(We know this because we found rat carcasses inside our walls.) The corners, window and door frames were created and supported by solid chalk keystones.

The walls of the building were often not set equally deep into the ground, especially when the site was a slope. This would lead to an imperceptible pull on the walls – our house is 10 cm wider at roof level then at the ground leaning outwards on the downward slope.

To create the Shepherd’s Cottage inside the sheep barn we first had to dig out the beaten earth floor so that people could stand upright everywhere. The nearside (to our house) wall immediately started to collapse inside. An appalling noise ensued. Not to worry said the then mason cheerfully. He ‘propped up’ the ceiling beams with scaffolding and rebuilt the bottom of the wall. Then cement jointed all the stones.

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But we have suddenly discovered a second weakness in our wonderful, hand-built, gobbed-up stone houses. The corner stones can also be fragile, they are after all only a form of highly compressed chalk. They don’t take kindly to any form of cement as witness our terrace stairs.

A few years ago, Edward Le Prince Noir de La Chaise, (labrador, see above) was terrified by a sudden clap of thunder. He had been comfortably hiding under the lunch table. Linked to the table by his ed scarf, he launched himself down the stairs and towards the woods – the table, a stone geranium pot and part of the balustrade and ramparts went with him. Last summer the tractor just touched the bottom pillar and pulled the whole of the other side over. We vaguely tried to get it repaired but stone experts signally failed to supply cement to stick the pieces together again. Too porous for cement they said.

This is what a bump from the tractor did....

Then, at the end of this past winter we discovered that either the nearside end of the sheep barn wall, or roof, had moved. This was visible because the joints between the plaster board ceilings and walls had cracked open. Visions of 12 metre long wrought iron ties hold the two barn ends together, or external pattes d’elephant - solid concrete triangles to prop the moving wall, haunted our dreams. Either solution would cause great difficulties for holiday makers as well as ourselves.

Fortunately the A² (Alex & Audrey) grapevine dug up a stone mason of their own generation who lived nearby. He was not impressed. Pointing to a corner stone half-way up the kitchen door frame he said: there is the problem. Indeed, this stone had a triangular wedge taken our where some beam had been wedged in, presumably to make a lean-to, long since gone. His solution?: to prop up the first floor along the length of the wall with scaffolding inside, remove the defective stone and slide in a new one. Simple really.

A little worry left behind.

As we started packing to leave La Chaise in the tender care of Audrey, Alexandre and Charlie, also Michelle,for a couple of winter months, we decided to have a final glass of wine on the terrace, watch the sunset, hopefully see some bats at dusk.

On my way through the dining room door to the terrace I saw THIS:

YES!    This is a slug, climbing up the electric wire towards the attic bedroom.

Now, if it is true that slugs seek out damp places to hide in dry times....I am worried.  The gardiens of La Chaise are on Slug Watch.

A summer without bees

The summer is drawing to a close - the pools have been covered with their winter baches, heavy dark blue plastic sheets tied with elastic tethers to heavy pegs in their surrounding tiles.  The daily temperature has dropped..

There are still few bees - I can count the ones I have seen on the fingers of one hand.  They were very small.   I have only seen one bumblebee and the only hornet was dead before I spotted it.

The unusually hot weather in the summer days meant we heard less bird-song and more tree crickets.   The birds are now back whilst we hear only the odd cricket in the evening.   The bats have abandoned us - no night flying insects for food, no point in staying here, despite a wonderfully cool, vinous cellar - the one immediately under our bedroom. 

This moth escaped the bats, only to die inside.

Whilst we miss the crickets it is a great pleasure to hear early morning and late evening bird song again.  The cooler weather has also made the birds more bold.  Even when we are on the terrace, with a glass of wine and a meal, they venture into the overhanging grape vines to pick at the ripe grapes.  One evening a female blackbird looked at me balefully as she ventured towards the ripe grapes.  The various finches that are around here are more discreet.

Up there in the greenery are the grapes - the birds are getting more than us

Does anyone know how to make a bunch of grapes ripen more or less completely?   With flowers, such as gladioli, one pinches out the top bud to get all the rest to flower.   That, of course, can be done standing at a table - but overhead grapes?  Our gardiens, Alexandre & Audrey, have confiscated our step-ladder. Probably for the best.

Looks like a grape jelly year.

Return of the Slugs

At last the rains came!  They came at intervals, noisily, but little and to little
effect. Except, of course, being unpredictable, many people and things got unexpectedly wet.  Washing and drying cushions of thoroughly soaked outdoor furniture is no joke.   But, I suspect, if I had not left it outside - as a sacrifice,you understand - we might not have had any rain at all.

In all, over the last week, we have been blessed by about 20mm of rainwater - different parts of the county had more or less.  But the downpours have uplifted the spirits of people, birds, and slugs.

People and slugs have the same interest - the imminent arrival, should the weather warm the soil again, of boletus edulis,  or any other form of  edible boletus.   I found a first one, it looked like a proper bolet until I grabbed its stem.  This went bright blue.   To be avoided.

and I barely touched it, honest!

It is as though the slugs came down with the rain.  They were everywhere in the woods - not crossing the open, grassy spaces but staying under the trees.   Perhaps because the buzzards like a slug or two?   We have a couple of noisy pairs in the valley.

The song birds, too, revived with the wet.    Possibly because the wet brought with it, let's say revived, insect life. Just flies, the odd ant, and some rather dopey moths.   I rescued two tiger moths from the swimming pool - alive. I even rescued a couple of crickets and a wasp.  There is still no apparent return of the vespidae family.

But the slug are happy, finding toadstools, and friends.    Here is the beginning of a promising relationship.

Dust and Heat - no insects

The 15^th of August, a pivotal date in the French holiday calendar, is well and truly past. Most holiday visitors have returned home. But the bees, wasps, hornets and Asian vespe-nasties do not seem to have returned. There are few flies or moths.No slugs.

I have seen one bumble bee, no wasps but probably a hornet. Something went under the hem of my skirt. My heavy hand came down. It stung me and died. I limped with a hot, swollen knee for the next week.

The good news is that the Little Black Hen has ceased to hope she could turn golf balls into chicks, even after several weeks dedicated sitting.   She is back to producing her wonderful rich yolk eggs in their pale grey-green shells.

But the autumn crocus has appeared rather early, not deterred by the absence of rain. Curiously it does not seem to spread very far from its original locations when we first saw them over 30 years ago. Must check why.

Not so large a clump as in previous years...

The absence of insects, especially moths, is a disaster for the bats that have recently installed themselves in JP’s cool cellar. They come out at dusk, fly hopefully under the great oaks at the end of the garden. Whether they catch anything we cannot see – I did save a tiger moth from the pool but it disappeared as soon as its wings were dry.

The bats have become more numerous over the past couple of years and we are hopeful their presence will prove our absence to any local authority concerned with such matters Especially as dearly beloved has a tendency to leave the cellar light on – I can see it through the cracks in our bedroom floor boards. Surely darkness loving animals would not stay where light is on all day? Anyway, my former home made liqueur shelf is now nearly a half inch deep in mouse shit. Proof of human absence.

The continual human and ovine shuffling in the dust does throw up some curiosities, mostly fossils. I use them in the window boxes of the geraniums. The fossils appear in the stone paths and on the very dry field slopes. Some are simple cockle shell remains, others seem to have had a possibly nacreous shell.

An imposing shell for the slug fighting geraniums

The sheep, which love to rub their backs against the rough fruit tree stems, revealed the collection of fossils below – best fossil ever! According to the geological map of La Chaise there is a tongue shaped area of sandy soil leading into the field which sometimes throws up some pretty agate style stones.  The rest of the territory is solid limestone with a little earth on top.

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Just stop to think: once this place was under sea.

Slug fest

One of the most delightful happenings in country life is the ‘al fresco’ lunch or - ‘dejeuner sur l’herbe’ normally served and eaten more or less dressed, both people and food.

The whole requires a little planning, make sure there is enough wine and cold cuts plus best garden salads, fresh bread, tomatoes, and that the whole fits on one tray. First caveat, never ever put stemmed wine glasses or wine bottles on same tray as food. This can lead to severe balance problems.

This was in evidence a few days ago at La Chaise main house. The food tray was well garnished, the wine cool and the glasses’ newly rinsed in vinegar to remove hard water deposits. The door to the terrace was ajar.

Angling myself to open same door with elbow (a housewifely talent) I suddenly spotted a slug coming in the opposite direction: that is it wanted to come in whilst I wanted to go out. Treading on slugs is wrong. My foot hovered over slug and the tray wobbled. Recovering my balance I kicked the slug sort of out of my way. Only slugs, aka ‘gastropods’ have sticky undersides and are not easily displaced by kicking. But all ended well, for slug and food.

Yet, where do slugs go when it is hot? We have had temperatures plus plus 30C for the last week or so. Apparently (wikipedia) slugs seek out damp places to lurk until temperatures come back to normal. So, question, was it heading for my bathroom or just trying a short cut across the house to the compost heap? I don’t know, but a second one was caught in the door jamb a few days later.

Few gardeners like slugs. A particular hatred for them is confined to the Dordogne and perhaps other wooded parts of France, because the slugs get to the coveted boletus edulis before two legged beings can, leaving rather sad cèpe specimens which require a lot of cleaning.

Slug got here first

 

Only partly joking, I have suggested we plant rows of lettuces in front of our cèpe rich woods to distract same slugs. But, of course, this would only accelerate a race between the sheep and any rabbits that are left on our land.

Pre-slug visit

Somewhere I read that someone had suggested geraniums as the ultimate slug deterrent. I am not sure about this – I do know that blue window frames and shutters with geranium plants are largely used in the warmer countries of Eastern and Middle Eastern Europe to deter flies and mosquitoes. But where is the relationship with slugs? Has anyone seen a woodland framed in geranium plants – cultivated ones, not the wild variety? Geranium extract is a fungicide – would it be poisonous for sheep?

Avaunt ye - Slugs!

Fighting greenery

It is not just the wild animals of all sizes that fight for existence in our sheltered glade where humans are the proxies for domesticated animals. Plants fight too. The loser in a plant fight dies of strangulation or suffocation.

Two of the most fearsome fighting wild plants are the ivy and the convolvulus, the former can destroy walls, the latter both stifles and strangles everything in its path. But it does offer a pretty flower as a distraction, rather like a boa constrictor’s smile.

Two of the most vigorous cultivated fighting plants are the vine and the wisteria, with the lesser known bignonia not far behind. The wisteria’s weakness is that in its teenage years it suffers from sudden death syndrome.

Terrace covering seen from underneath

These plants do appreciate human made supports, such as the iron bars over our terrace, or any handy upward stem. At present there is a race on between the vine and the wisteria to reach the palm tree nearest the terrace. It seems as though the vine has won.

Palm tree under attack from native plants

Curiously, the summer after we installed ourselves at La Chaise, wandering round assessing the largest, tallest oaks for felling – we needed both firewood and cash – we saw the oddest sight. Hung on the topmost branches of a slender 40m high oak were ripe grapes. The oak had grown on the edge of a former vineyard.

Some plants, like chickens, are cannibal. We have several oak saplings growing within the dried out stump of their ancestor.

Some are fighting off an invasion of cherry saplings whose pips were probably dropped by cherry greedy birds or martens.

Curiously, one five leaved oak sapling is growing out of the chicken house wall. An acorn cannot have fallen into that space. A bird would not have pushed it into that space. I suspect No 1 grandson who delights in pushing acorns into holes.

Overweening ambition