Great Expectations.

"Would you like me to bring back anything from Blighty for you?"

I prepared a short list and she placed it in her handbag. I waited patiently for the two weeks that she was away, then when she returned I said nothing.

"I've got those fruit flavoured indigestion tablets you wanted" she said, as she slowly unpacked her suitcase "And the packet of Cavolo Nero seeds".

Still I said nothing, as I crossed my fingers even tighter.

"Oh, and there's this" she said nonchalantly, as she passed me a lumpy blue paper wrapper. 

"Ah, thank you darling; that's wonderful".

PSB.

For those of us who 'grow our own', the arrival of what all veg' gardeners refer to as 'PSB' is a definite marker of Spring.

Purple sprouting broccoli is one of those crops that HAS to be 'home grown'; the shop bought equivalent bears no comparison.

Your children/grandchildren would probably turn their noses up at it, but who cares; these first few flowering shoots, to me, are pure nectar!  

They were consumed last night, with a side-serving of pork chop. 

Veggie Wednesday.

We have decided to become 'one-day-a-week veggies'; and that day will be Wednesdays.

I'm kicking off with a veggie Couscous. Normally I would include either chicken or lamb into a tagine, but today NO MEAT.

To one of my last year's jars of courgettes in tomato sauce, I add a tin of chick peas, a chunky cut potato, a quartered preserved lemon, raz al hanout, cinnamon, harissa, a few herbs, garlic, and some veggie stock. 

After I have prepared the couscous I add olive oil, dried mint, and cumin seeds.

Couldn't be much simpler, and one can make it as piquante as one likes. We like ours quite spicy.

We both said the same thing; it was totally delicious, and we didn't miss the meat one bit!

Viva Veggie Wednesday!

New Toy.

It's arrived.

Lady Magnon returned from Blighty with my new laptop; I had imagined having to wait until summer for my son Kimbo to bring it over by car, but Lady M managed to find a vacant corner in her suitcase.

It's an Acer E1-572P. It has a touch screen, is much faster, and rides on Carlos Fandango wheels. It's taken me a couple of head-scratching hours to set up, and I'll still probably be looking under its bonnet for a few days yet.

My previous Acer Travel Mate 5720 had become totally clogged. Too many words, too much chatter, and far to many snaps.

So, why did I spend my money in England, rather than here in France? Simple; because French laptops don't use the QWERTY keyboard, and my two-finger typing cannot be re-educated to adapt to their ridiculous alternative layout

Previously, all my early morning computer work took from 5.30am to about 7.30am (breakfast time); now I am done by about 6.30am.

You see before you (well, behind your screen somewhere) a very happy Cro.

The Oldies Lunch 2014.

On her first day back from London Lady Magnon (with friend Saint Theresa of the Floral Tribute) attended this year's Old Folks Lunch up at the Mayor's Parlour. They gorged themselves on soup, paté au foie gras, crudités, poule au pot, salad, cheese, ice cream with apricots, and champagne. Who says there's no such thing as a free lunch; there is here, and apparently it was delicious.

As it was also 'Grandmother's Day' here in France, she came away with this delightfully colourful gift.

I didn't go to this year's bash (I'm too young anyway). It's held in a room where the acoustics are just dreadful. Sound bounces around as if one's in a specially designed echo chamber, and I can't hear a word anyone says. You can just imagine what it's like after they've all had their first few glasses of wine!

I stayed at home and partook of ye olde thinne gruelle.

It has been suggested that because of 'administrative changes' this could be our village's very last 'Repas des Ainés'. I do hope not, but I wish in future they'd hold it in summer, and preferably OUTDOORS.

The Death Penalty.

                                                   

I am well aware that amongst my occasional readers there are some who are 100% against the death penalty. Normally speaking I am too, but in certain cases I feel obliged to make an exception

There are certain people whose acts are so evil that they are sentenced to their WHOLE LIFE in prison; they will NEVER be released.

These people can be counted on one hand (or maybe two), and I cannot see any reason whatsoever why judges shouldn't be offered the option of sentencing them to 'a painless lethal injection'.

It upsets me to think of all the people who will be involved with looking after this young woman (above), as she starts her WHOLE LIFE sentence. What on earth is the purpose of keeping her alive?

There are certain crimes, so unimaginable and unforgivable, for which the perpetrator should understand that they are obliged to surrender his (or her) right to life.  Personally I would include little Miss Star Face; she's done enough damage in her short life as it is!

N.B. I can't even bring myself to mention this nasty girl's name!

Chop, Sprout, Strangle, and Cut.

Most modern varieties of Chestnut, just like most fruit trees, need to be grafted onto a vigorous root stock. A few very productive old fashioned varieties, however, can be cultivated from young shoots (I'm afraid I don't know the names of these).

This is how the clever little devils go about the process over here, which, in all, has taken 3 years (so far).

Having chopped down a dying tree, it will sprout small branches from around the base of the severed trunk, when these are large enough (i.e. the following year), a solid piece of wire is twisted very tightly just above where it joins the trunk; in effect strangling it, and forcing it to grow it's own roots just beyond the wire noose, underneath a good deep covering of soil. 

The following year (i.e. year 3), the soil is removed revealing each small branch complete with its own bunch of healthy roots. The branches are then cut, the wire removed, and they are planted out. 

I like this process. Time seems irrelevant, and you end-up with free Chestnut trees; whilst (more importantly) saving ancient varieties.

As with the planting of most trees, one plants for one's grandchildren. The only question nowadays being 'will those grandchildren have stayed on the farm, in order to appreciate the expediency of their forebears?'

I do hope so.