We're never really satisfied, are we! When it's sweltering hot, we dream of rain, then when it rains we moan about it.
We've had a very long spell of hot and dry weather, and were desperate for rain. Now we've had that downpour that we were longing for (that ruined our village music festival on Saturday), and already the grass is looking greener and the trees looking happier. The level of the water in our pool is over an inch higher than two days ago.
In 10 days time we might have some Cèpes (mushrooms), August Cèpes are reputed to be the best. I still have some preserves from last year, so we are not yet being deprived.
Regardless of all this rain, Summer Sundays are still the best. Time to get together for mass barn lunches with neighbours. Even the rain didn't dampen yesterday's little fête. We started at midday, and finished at... errr... gawd knows what time.
Bunny was the youngest there, and I'm not sure who was the oldest. We were about 40-ish at table; the gathering was held at my first house in the village which is about 200 metres from where we now live.
I do like rain, but it has to be proper rain... real lumps of water that clatter onto the Velux windows at night; lovely..... Damp thin drizzle (like yesterday's) is a pain..
Are those sausages and peppers on the grill? Yum!ReplyDelete
Looks like a fun event.
Just sausages. The fat ones were pork/wild boar, and the thin ones were spicy merguez. NIce.Delete
It seems the men do the barbecuing everywhere.ReplyDelete
They're legally bound!Delete
Hooray for rain although long hot summers are nice everything feels so much more refreshed after rain. Sounds like a wonderful time was had by all. Hooray for sausages. p.s. I've never heard rain being described as lumps of water before - not terribly poetic Cro.ReplyDelete
It's that rustic, bucolic, non-poetic, type of rain that I really like. Lumpy!Delete
Cats and dogs type rain.Delete
Lumpy dogs, and lumpy cats.Delete
This is me, sidling off with my barbecue tongs hidden behind my back and hoping not to get hit in the head by one of your lumps of rain.ReplyDelete
Yes, they hurt.Delete
What a happy-gathering Cro. They all just look like the folk up here - good, honest country folk.ReplyDelete
Can you send a few recipes for butternuts my way please?
We can't grow them of course, it is never warm enough. But they are readily available in the greengrocer and I love them. All I do is just roast them in a little olive oil.
That's mostly what I do, Pat. I tuck big lumps under a roast chicken or pork. Otherwise they make wonderful soup. Cubed, they can be curried, but I seem to remember that The Farmer doesn't care for such things.Delete
How wonderful that the rain did not stop the festivities. There is nothing better than spending a summer Sunday with friends, family and good good.ReplyDelete
It was all good fun, but these things tend to go on too long. Children disappear, babies go for sleeps, the oldies get drunk, etc, etc. Food kept appearing for hours on end, with more wine, and more 'you must try this', etc. Hard work.Delete
Sounds perfect and full of joy. Babies should sleep and old people should eat and drink and be merry.Delete
The garden certainly needed that rain but it was a shame about the Music Festival. I had been looking forward to it.ReplyDelete
Us too. We looked outside at about 7.45pm, and it was pouring. We stayed at home. Even so, I believe that quite a few turned up.Delete
Do you two know each other?Delete
Strangely, not yet. But we will.Delete
You probably stood next to each other in the boulangerie this morning.Delete