After the excitements of last week, perhaps it is just as
well that this week was far more sedate and restful. It gave us time to look
around and appreciate the new season, bursting forth all around us. The trees
seem to be a bit reluctant to show any real signs of greenery yet but the
fields are ablaze with thousands of little yellow daisies, interspersed with
minute white and blue flowers. For the very first time ever, we have managed to
plant and grow a daffodil. Three, in fact. Thank you to the Garstang Gardening
Club that gave us three bulbs when we visited there last year. The bulbs lay
around for quite a while before they were eventually put into a pot, as we were
fairly certain that they would not come up. After all, we had never had success
with bulbs before, so why should things change now?? But, after a few weeks, little
green shoots appeared which grew bigger util they turned into daffodil leaves
and buds. Then, suddenly we had a flower! Wow! And then another and hard on its
heels came the third one. What excitement! You can tell we aren’t gardeners,
can’t you? All this excitement for plants doing what they are supposed to do.
Ridiculous! One of these days we really should apply ourselves to the piece of
veld behind the house……..! In the mean time we will reserve our energies for
tending the pots and troughs on the verandah.
We have decided that as it seems to be Spring and that
should mean the onset of warmer weather, we will not be making any more fires
in the wood burner, so have cleaned it out until next winter. I am delighted,
in a way, as it makes a lot of fine sooty dust which settles simply everywhere
and is a real pain to remove. However, we will all miss the cheery warmth and
glow each evening. It has its pro’s and con’s though – wood has often to be
split into smaller pieces, down in the cellar and then carried upstairs to the
fire, and generally when we need to make the fire, it is cold, rainy and altogether
miserable outside which is where we have to go to fetch the wood. Wood is
heavy, too, and although we have a specially designed bag for carrying the
split wood, which makes it easier, the person who can carry the most in one go
is the person who does the least trips up and down the stairs. Guess who? The man
of the house, of course! It still takes two or three bags full to see us though
an evening though, so not so good for him.
On Saturday a motor rally had been arranged in the area
surrounding our nearest town, Villeneuve, so Neels and Courtney went off to see
what it was all about. The assembly point was the huge cattle market area at
the bottom end of town (where we once went to attend a Vide Grenier car boot sale type of thing) and it was really well
supported. The whole area was covered with tents, caravans awnings,
pantechnicons and cars, and people milled about like ants. Once the rally
started, Neels and Courtney found a view site on the plan of the route, and
made their way there and enjoyed an exciting couple of hours as car after car
came whizzing past them and into a tight hairpin bend, spraying gravel in all
directions. It had rained during the night, and continued off and on during the
day so the roads were muddy and greasy and made for entertaining viewing.
Which all brings us back to Sunday again. This has become
our customary rusk-baking day and I am taking care to teach both Neels and
Courtney how to make them so that one day they will magically reappear when the
rusk container gets a bit low. Nothing like being hopeful is there.
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