Better than a Knighthood.

Honours come in many forms. I've had countries named after me (Cro-atia), plants named after me (Cro-cus), and even a garden game named after me (Cro-quet). But of all these honours, the greatest must be the naming of a soap (Cro-bar).

As for the ingredients, this superb soap (created by Maitre Savoneur Donna O'Shaughnessy of Chatsworth Ilinois USA) has them in abundance; Coconut, Almond, Clove, Guinness, and Cedarwood. What a fabulous aroma! What a fabulous soap!

Donna not only makes wonderful soap, she is also a hard working organic farmer and spokesperson the USA's 'Raw Milk' campaign.

See her blog here, or contact Donna direct at opies99@gmail.com.

Meanwhile, Lady Magnon has given up her daily bath in Asses Milk in exchange for Donna's hauntingly aromatic Olive, Coconut, and Almond oil, soap. Its scent of Peppermint is absolutely delicious. She's already hooked.

Go on; buy now to avoid disappointment!

Swimming Season.

All Labs are good swimmers, and Monty is no exception. Give him a small lake, a stick to fetch, and he's a hooligan in heaven.

After the extensive Winter rains, the lake is once again filled; ready to be pumped up to the farmers fields. It's an artificial lake with a huge pumping system. The local farmers joined forces with the commune to build it, and they now each pay a tiny sum into the village coffers for its use in times of drought.

Bok's a bit wary of water. Last year he almost started to swim, but this year he's back to just running about in the shallows again. I don't think he'll ever be a champion swimmer like his big brother.

Bloomin' Miracle.

Being a complete gardening ignoramus, I'm amazed by how well all our flowers are doing this year.

Of course I have no idea what most of them are, but they sure do look good.

The Ice Saints are now upon us. Saints Mamertus, Pancras, and Servatius (11th, 12th and 13th May respectively) herald an end to night time frosts, and our fruit, flowers, and vegetables, will now go unpunished. We should have a very productive year.

Stephen Francis Lester Lowe. M.B. CH.B. M.R.C.P.(uk) F.R.C.P.(c) 1942-1977

Exactly 36 years ago, on the 10th May 1977, my lovely cousin Stephen was brutally murdered in his own home. A 16 year old youth (his next door neighbour) had broken into his house in British Columbia; my cousin challenged him, and was rewarded by being stabbed 15 times. He died at once with one of his young daughters watching in horror.

Stephen was a brilliant doctor. He'd moved to Canada in 1972, and had already become one of the country's top practitioners. Within five years he had become an important advisor to the Canadian government, as well as the director of intensive care at a major hospital. At just 42 his ever advancing career looked to have no bounds. 

But a young thug stopped all that. His desire for free drugs put an end to the life of an unquestioned medical genius.

The above photo sits on my sitting room dresser. I look at it every day of my life, and think of him. For me it exemplifies his academic prowess, his ingrained determination and intelligence, and his deeply caring personality.

I could write a long list of all his achievements and honours, but I'd need to be here all day; I've also greatly reduced the amount of letters after his name above. Outside of medicine he had a pilot's licence, he assisted the Canadian Mounted Police, and he was a member of numerous committees. Whenever and by whoever his knowledge and wisdom was needed, he willingly answered the call.

So, today, on the anniversary of his death, I shall be thinking of him, and missing him. It's been 36 years since the tragedy, and I still haven't recovered from the shock. I have no information about his murderer, or of what sentence he might have received.

RIP my lovely cousin Stephen. From the moment he left us, the world has been a much poorer place.

Our Local 8th May Fair.

The annual 8th May Fair at my nearby town is always one of the year's big do's. 

There are flower and veg' plant salesmen,

Sausage and ham salesmen, wearing red Basque berets,

Laguiole knives and salad bowls salesmen,

Basket salesmen,

And, of course, bonbon salesmen for the children.

But there's always someone around to lower the tone, and this children's party frock, and clown costume, salesman did the honours. Heaven preserve us!!!

We didn't buy anything. The two things we were after were green asparagus, and red onion sets; neither were available.

Gold!

I was watching an old episode of Time Team yesterday, when they found the coin above.

It's a Henry V gold 'Noble', and, I'm sure you'll agree, a stunning thing to find. One really has to feel sorry for the poor guy, or gal, who lost it in the first place.

My village has the suffix 'ac' denoting a Roman settlement, and as banks (as we now unfortunately know them) had not yet been universally established, one presumes that when a Roman soldier went off to battle he would have buried his valuables and dug them up if he returned. Many of course did not return and small caches of gold coins could still be buried almost anywhere.

I've always dreamt of finding a cache of gold coins, and, hereabouts, stories of hidden 'Louis d'or' are common-place; although I have yet to meet anyone who's found one. Maybe they just keep it to themselves.

I do have a friend who found an ancient Benin bronze hidden amongst the rafters of a cottage he'd just bought. He sold the object at Sotherby's, and it almost paid for the entire cottage.

I don't possess a metal detector, nor do I go actively looking for treasure, but I'm always peeking under up-rooted tree stumps and in freshly ploughed fields. I suppose it's the idea of 'something for nothing' that appeals. If I find anything I'll let you know.

If you've ever found anything of real interest or value, I'd love to hear about it.

No Sun Please; We're British.

Ever since we built our covered terrace, it's caused us problems.

The view above (from inside the terrace) looks due West, and in the late afternoons and evenings the hot sun pours in towards the table, causing diners to melt. 

We've considered building a wall and we've tried hanging drapes, but until now we've not found a solution that is either aesthetic or practical or both.

So I've now decided that 50% sun-filtering is probably the best answer, and I've installed some simple trellis that by Summer should be thick with Wisteria and Morning Glory. The doorway will probably be hung with a heavy wood or bamboo fly-screen, if I can find one that's not too ugly. 

Crazy isn't it; we chose a place to live that is pleasantly warm, then moan about it being too hot. Some people are never happy.