Strange Summer.

It's been a strange summer on many fronts, mostly due to the very high temperatures, and the lack of rain.

This has had a hugely detrimental effect on crops and wildlife. Our Apples are all small, our Peaches dried-up, the pomegranates are pathetic, and our grapes have, inadvertently, become raisins.  By contrast, our Fig crop has been huge; but they never fail.

At this time of year there is usually a constant drone from Crickets in the grass, and from Cicadas in the trees. This year there is silence. Nor do we have many Wasps, and absolutely no Hornets, about which we are not complaining.

I have not seen a single large green Lizard, and only ONE Praying Mantis (above).

In the fields, the Sunflower heads are very small, and I imagine that the crops will be miserable. 

Elsewhere the Chestnuts are beginning to swell inside their husks, and, as with the Walnuts, I expect the crops will be OK; they are both deep-rooted and can probably find enough moisture.

There have been no mushrooms, so my Cèpes will, this Winter, come from expensive tins (of which I've bought several)!

The big storm of July 17th was vicious and destructive, but the short burst of torrential rain soon evaporated, and did no good. What we really need are a few days of constant gentle rain.

We've just had a small storm last night. Lots of bangs, flashes, and strong wind; but hardly any rain.

Will this now become our regular annual weather pattern? That remains to be seen.

 

Nostalgia ain't what it used to be.

OK, this picture might be a rose-tinted vision of an England in earlier times, but it's very much how I remember my native Surrey village of Lingfield, as a child.

I was born in 1946, and lived for the first 14 years of my life in my small Surrey village, where almost everyone knew who I was; and greeted me with a cheery 'hello'. I always felt very much a part of village life. We all knew the village 'Bobby', the District Nurse, the Vicar, the Butcher, the Baker, and everyone else of importance.

I had my little red bike, and would cycle wherever I wanted. I would go fishing, watch the village Cricket team, or visit friends. My world was only limited by how far I could cycle. Freedom was total.

There was a village pond, and a village memorial to those who'd died in the two German wars. There was a lovely old church, where I sang in the choir. And there was a village Silver Band who rejected my appalling lack of skill on the Cornet.

In Autumn there was a huge Horticultural Show in the village hall, for adults and children alike, and on November 5th we held one of the biggest local Bonfire Night parades in the area. There was also a very active WI.

It was how an English village should be. Very little crime, other than one wayward Irish family who lived on a council estate, and couldn't help themselves. And lots of friendliness from almost everyone else. The only 'foreigners' I remember were a Canadian family; the Beardmores. The father had been sent to work in England, and the son was at Prep' School with me. 

My only complaint about the present state of the village is it's proximity to Gatwick. These days (not when WE lived there) there is constant airplane noise, which has spoilt much of its appeal. The last time I returned there, I could hardly believe how much noise there was.

Our village here in France used to have the same feel about it, but even that has now changed. The camaraderie that came with peasant farming has gone, and those same people now sit at home and wait for their EU cheque to arrive. The 'newcomers' are mostly NOT country folk, and often have no idea how to behave.

 

Where are they now?

 

Recently we were 11; now we are 2. The family are now all back at their various homes (or very nearly).

The Cherub (above), his big brother Boo Boo, and their dad Wills are back in Thailand after a week doing dangerous things in the Swiss Alps, and safer things in Zurich.

Tenpin, and son Finn, are back in Brisbane after a week or so in Rome, Naples, and on The Amalfi Coast. Her No1 son, GHG, was at home in Oz, working.

Kimbo and Suzie have been back in Brighton for a while (he's had more promotion). Not quite sure where Suave Harve is (possibly back in Oxford), and I think Ollie is in London, before starting Uni at Nottingham in September.

That just leaves US. We're still in France, relaxing, and suddenly feeling very 'alone'.

It's the little things.....

Ever since I built our pool's 'Pump House', I knew there was something about it that wasn't quite right.

I had copied the local style as honestly as I could, used hand-made tiles for the roof, and even commissioned a couple of traditional pinnacles to finish it off. But the door always looked wrong. 

I knew where the problem lay, and this year (at last) I decided to do something about it. You may find this ridiculous!

Traditionally, in this area, outbuildings of all sorts have a rustic lime-wash border around all the openings; doors, windows, etc. Originally I think it was designed to deter insects, but I very much doubt if it did.

As the Pump House was designed to look like an old miniature Pigeon Tower, the lime 'paint' needed to look as if it had been there for decades; it needed to looked 'washed away'. I had to build up slowly, and over several days. Had it looked perfectly new it would have been worse than before.

So now, as we enjoy our wine-o-clock drinkies, overlooking the pool, I see how it always should have looked, with its ageing white stripe around the door; and I am content.

It's amazing how something as trivial as a white stripe can actually become so important. NOW, it looks RIGHT! We built the pool in 2004; it's been a long time coming.

 

Encornet Géant

I've always been a bit wary of buying fresh Octopus or Giant Squid. I'm not confident about cooking it, and always fear that I might end-up with something resembling a Wellington Boot.

So, having recently discovered this, chilled, ready-cooked, pack of 'Giant Squid' tentacles, and seen that it only needs a few minutes heating time, I knew it had my name written all over it. Whether such things are available where you live, I have no idea.

The pack suggested various heating methods. Frying pan with Olive Oil for 2 mins. Air Fryer for 5 mins (we don't have one). Microwave for 2 mins (No, no, no). Or simply to eat it as it is; it's already cooked.

I would liked to have grilled it over the BBQ, but lighting it just for this seemed silly. So I followed the advice on the pack and fried it for a couple of minutes, just to give it a bit of 'colour'.

I have to say that it was very good, but perhaps a tad more 'chewy' than I would have liked. It didn't have the charred flavour I would have liked too, but if there were more of us I'd buy several packs and light the BBQ.

It was served with a tiny squeeze of Lemon juice, and very lightly salted.

Verdict: 8/10. I WILL buy it again, but the next time I will certainly BBQ it.

 

Weather warning

I'm not going to say that I don't like hot, sunny, weather; because that would be untrue.

But what I really don't enjoy are the relentless, day after day temperatures in the top 30's C, that force us to stay indoors for most of the day. 

I always get-up early anyway (5 am), and my 'Office Work' is usually finished by 7 am-ish. The rest of the early morning is then given to working outside before the worst of the 'Canicule' arrives. There is always sweeping, pool cleaning, and general tidying to be done. At lunchtime we always eat outdoors, but in the shade. Most of the afternoon is then spent on Siesta, Crosswords, or a good Book; all within the thick walls of our old stone cottage.

We wear hats, and shades, we drink litres of liquids, and we throw ourselves into the pool regularly.

People moan about the heat, and rightly so (my own favourite temperature is 25 C). But as with so many annoying things in life, it's all a question of management. Plan your day, pinpoint the hottest hours, and work around it.

There is little point in the government warning us about 'Summer Temperatures' (above), we all know they're coming, and we should all make our own arrangements. We don't need Little Miss Nanny France to tell us.

Enjoy the temperatures that suit you; and avoid the one's that don't. Simple.

p.s. Starting from today, it's going to be SUPER HOT again for some while!!!

 

Mr Arday

So much has been written about this scoundrel, that there's almost nothing more to say.

I have had very few 'jobs' in my life where a CV was required. They were for positions at The London Stock Exchange, and two teaching jobs; both in prestigious private schools. I told the truth (which in my case was quite basic), and I was accepted on merit. I didn't feel the need to invent sporting prowess, charitable exploits, or even early-age mental disabilities.

The most shocking aspect of Mr Arday's numerous deceptions are not his own fantasies, but the inability of the Cambridge University's Appointments Board to see past such an obvious display of LIES. Some of his claimed exploits even happened before he was born!

We all know that Cambridge has recently become a hotbed of woke equality, and dumbing-down. But to put transparently woke diversity ethics before the good name of Cambridge University, is tantamount to TREASON.

Mr Arday will now disappear (unless he writes a book, saying how it was all a big social experiment, in the style of Frank Abagnale jr), but the Dungaree-wearing lovies who interviewed and employed him should be investigated and SACKED.

The University's 'Diversity Poster Boy' has been seen for what he is. An absolute FRAUD.