Bicycle in the Pond

You might be forgiven for thinking that I’d overshot the road and ended up in the pond!  In actual fact I spotted this bicycle sitting elegantly in the water as I cycled past this morning.  It has been carefully placed in situ and I just had to stop and take a photo.

(At the rate my cycling is going at the moment I can see my bicycle ending up as a decorative feature very soon.)

 
Monique has also been decorating her garden and has added a funky chicken next to her plastic topiary ball.  It's all very jolly in this part of the world.

A Bad Influence

I blame Cro.  This morning we went to market and bought bread, salad and asked the wine man to fill our two empty two-litre milk bottles with red table wine. 

We tested the wine with our lunch.  It was very typical of this region, fruity with peppery undertones and highly quaffable.  In fact I had to have a second glass just to make sure.  At 1.40 euros a litre this is a fabulous lunchtime wine.  

Paul's happy because the wine is cheap

a very long and boozy lunch

Do Muscles Have Memories?

cycling clobber

Do muscles have memories?  If they do then mine have got amnesia. I was hoping that the only pain I would feel was struggling to zip up my cycling suit this morning.  Alas no.
 

“Can we just cycle down the hill and back?”

“No, we are going to do the Pouget route. It’s only 13 kms and according to my records we cycled it on the 13^th April last year in 47 minutes and 59 seconds.”

Paul loves his details and statistics and particularly MapMyRide - an app on his ‘phone.  It is quite interesting to monitor our progress but sometimes it’s just too much for me. I squeezed into my lycra gear and felt quite the sporting hero as I donned helmet and gloves and trotted across the courtyard to my bicycle.  Everything was going swimmingly until we reached the first incline.  Suddenly my legs felt leaden and it was like cycling through treacle towing a trailer load of bricks.  Paul was very patient and waited for me to catch up.  I was totally unable to climb the Scramble hills and had to dismount and walk up.  Oh the shame.  My legs just wouldn't work.  I even had to drop down to my smallest gear to get up the final easy climb home.  I was very despondent.  I was certainly paying the price for seven months of doing nothing more strenuous than walking Buddy.

 

I staggered back up the steps and collapsed in a heap in the kitchen.  Paul checked his data.  “Two minutes faster than this time last year” he crowed.  I was dumbfounded.  I can’t possibly see how that can be correct.  He’s already planning tomorrow’s route.

can you imagine how hard it is squeezing into these leggings?

Garden Stuff

cherry blossom

Paul is as happy as a sand boy.  He has been trundling around the garden on his mower, pulling weeds and preparing seed trays.  I donned my wellington boots, long apron and safety goggles to strim my rockery.  We have been back here for just a week and have almost managed to bring the garden back to order. 

my rockery

The fruit trees are looking healthy and the young peach has stayed free of any deer attacks thanks to the green mesh we wrapped around the base last year.

All the dead woody stuff has been added to Philippe’s bonfire; it is against the law to light garden bonfires in France but that rule seems to be generally ignored.  Philippe knows the gendarmes in any case, he probably went to school with them. 

Tomorrow we are planning to get out on our bikes for the first time in seven months.  It is going to hurt.

Diane the dawg came round to help

Barn Owl

When I looked out of the window before breakfast this morning I happened to see La Dame Blanche (or even Le Monsieur Blanc) swoop down from one of the barns and perch herself on a post by Philippe’s potager.  She sat there for a long time, occasionally turning her head, not even fazed when Diane the dawg trotted by with her collie boyfriend.

We have Barn Owls living in the pigeonnier (tower) but rarely see them during the day,  usually only getting a view of them when they swoop out at dusk, or when the young ones settle on the bathroom window sill and gaze through the glass at us.  This was a rare opportunity for us to see an adult owl close up. Unfortunately, although only about 50 metres away, the camera would not focus properly and we could not get a sharp picture.  I have since been told that it's not a camera problem. Barn Owls tremble constantly; it's a special technique they use when hunting, to help remain just out of focus.

 

A Good Start to the Day

This morning I took a basket of washing down to the laundry room.  I always approach this area with some trepidation early in the morning just in case there has been any mice activity overnight.  Sure enough, there he was - a dead mouse with his legs in the air.

On the other hand...

It was a potato.  Paul had dropped one of his seed potatoes destined for the garden.

I shoved the washing into the machine, remembered to add the detergent, shut the door and switched it on.

They're not even matching socks!  My day can only get better.

Market Day

La Place de la Halle

Today we visited the market in our local town to buy some salad and a few plants for the garden.  Villefranche is very quiet at this time of year, just a few locals standing around watching the world go by.  Many businesses have closed down over the past decade - an old fashioned clothes shop, a newsagent, a fabulous jewellery store, a hotel, and last year one of the two butchers closed.  It seems sad that the commercial centre of the town is diminishing but things liven up in the summer when the tourists arrive.

The Saturday market seems to get smaller and smaller each year, just half a dozen stalls today.  The nursery man was there so Paul bought some lettuce, beetroot and parsley.  We checked out Cro’s wine man; at 1.40 euros a litre for table wine pumped straight from the barrel we simply must remember to bring some empty containers next time.

wine man

A trip to town is never complete without a visit to the boulangerie.  Oops, can’t resist.