We’re back from a week away, hence the gap in posting. We’ve spent seven days in Provence, exploring the lavender-covered hillsides along the sunflower-lined roads in direct-sun temperatures that reached the mid-40s. It was hot.
What was surprising, though, was how lush everything was. In this land where most of the farmers and smallholders watered their crops by diverting the gulleys cut out of the Rhone.
It hasn’t been quite that hot here, but it has been a cosy week, and the plot has suffered in our absence. The tomato vines have got their first yellow flowers and we have some beans on the dwarf French, but elsewhere the lack of water is showing. The potatoes have collapsed, the lavender – which was going to be made into soap – is skeletal and the plot itself is overrun with weeds that seem to have thrived in the desert conditions.
The chickens are perky, though, and Barbara seems to be over her broodyness and is now shedding feathers at an impressive rate. From the number she’s left lying around the floor of their compound it looks like they’ve been having a pillow fight while we’ve been gone.
So it’s not all bad news, but it’s not all good, either, and I suspect that a few hours will need to be spent this weekend getting everything back in order.
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