Le Couvent Diary

We're back from New York and I've hopped over to Suffolk to see my mother since I last blogged. We've also put up details of next year's volunteer week, and, although we have a pretty full list, we are still taking applications in case we have any cancellations.

I haven't had any time with my mum on her own since I was about five, so it was just wonderful to spend four days in England with her last week. We had a hugely enjoyable meander through all the places we lived when I was a young child, Bury St Edmunds, Lavenham, Hadleigh - all beautiful places in deepest Suffolk.

The day was a stunner, balmy and sunny and we  didn't have any of the frustrations that  an itinerary might have brought. Easy parking space on Angel Hill, totter through the alleyway to Churchgate Street, meander round the art gallery that sits in the space where my mum coiffed women's hair fifty years ago, and where my brother was born. Notice a good-looking french restaurant over the road. Have a wonderful lunch surrounded by french-speaking hosts and chefs - thank you Maison Bleue . Toddle off to Lavenham to buy luscious black Suffolk dry cured bacon , (which I've left in my mum's fridge, dammit). We laughed and reminisced and thanked God that we don't suffer the privations that those times carried.

I've lived in France for seven years now, and I'm used to the ramshackle look of the place. The summer dries and crumbles the stone of buildings, the water-starved hedges deserve the winter to regrow and are rarely trimmed, verges die down in the blasting heat of the summer and our eyes are rested by the reappearance of green, so grass is allowed to grow unchecked in the cooler months. It's considered vulgar here to make the outside of your house a showpiece, one keeps one's jewels hidden so to speak. So it comes as something of a shock to travel through the pristine villages of Suffolk. Pretty gentrified cottages that once held farm workers now coddle wealthy Londoners each weekend, hedges are clipped and trimmed as if prepared for Crufts, verges are tamed into billiard tables. It's all perfect and leaves me relieved that I'm not part of that form of keeping up with the Joneses. Life's a lot less stressful here.

Meanwhile, making the most of my absence, Ali set to and redecorated our bathroom as a surprise. And very beautiful it is too. Thanks a million.

It's feeling an unusually English autumn at the moment, since we now have UK television. When we arrived in France, mute because we didn't speak the language, we took the decision not to have British TV, reasoning that we'd neither speak french nor understand anything of the culture if we didn't move here wholesale. So we stuck with french television for seven years and our french improved immeasurably. Then my mum agreed to come to stay for a month, for the whole of this December. At 79 it seems unfair to force her to endure endless chat programs in a new language so we've used her as the excuse to install a satellite dish. And now we're enjoying watching all those programmes that our UK friends are sick of. Without subtitles. Or dubbing. But I'm conscious that it does shift the culture inside this old house, so I'm hoping the novelty will wear off soon.

Just to keep the English theme going I'm about to order my mother some chocolate as a birthday present from Cadbury Gifts Direct. Sadly they don't deliver to France, but it does make a change from flowers.

PS   A belated Happy Thanksgiving to all our lovely chums in the USA.

Hello again. Did you think we’d gone forever? It took me a while to notice that our website went off line for a few days, an inexplicable dearth of e-mails prompting a call to our hosts who had us back online in moments.

I’ve also been away to England to help my mother arrange all the stuff you have to do when someone dies. My step-father, John, had the send-off he’d have hoped for. We had a full house while I was away which made for a difficult time made easy by help from our great pal Alex.

Sweltering weather here in France welcomed me home – it’s been between 33 and 36 degrees for the past ten days. Humans, dogs and chickens have coped well, but my tomato plants look exhausted and I simply can’t give them enough water. They sit in the middle of the vineyard in full sun, along with pathetic courgettes. The aubergines are fantastic, however. Heaven knows why they tolerate it so much better.

As if it isn’t hot enough, this is the time for jam and chutney making. Why does everyone think this is a snugly winter pursuit? The fruit is all hanging heavy on the trees so we’re making the most of it. Last week I made fruit salad jam. My own recipe. It seems very successful. Last night I made plum and apricot chutney. Kilos of it. Today I’ve been fighting with a recalcitrant printer, trying to do labels. I’ve given up and just ordered a new printer. It’ll arrive on Wednesday and I’m praying it will arrive already tamed.

I seem to be having a creative spurt at the moment. Ali thinks I don’t have enough to do already. So this week I also made beeswax furniture polish, lemon verbena hand + lip balm and aloe vera + lavender shower gel.  They’re all available here for a tiny handful of euros. Needless to say the house smells wonderful and guests wander round sniffing the air like Bisto kids.

This afternoon I’m considering dead-heading the roses and geraniums. I’m not eager since it is still about 33 degrees and there’s an awful lot to do. On the other hand, I’m paler than the guests after days of inside jobs, so it would be a chance to catch some vitamin D. I just wish I had a job that would demand this product. Are they serious?

In an idle moment yesterday I was meandering through Youtube videos and came across this one. The chap's name is Michael Schulte. I like it a lot. Click on the big arrow, sit back with a coffee and think happy thoughts.

Ali and I wish you a very Happy Christmas and a peaceful, healthy and happy 2009. We hope to see lots of you next summer.

Bisous à tous de Lizzie et Ali du Couvent, Roujan.

Wow, it's been a momentous week. My lovely brother Justin (known in the family as Freddie) had his 50th birthday.

His kind wife, Michelle, organised a secret party for 60-odd people (important hyphen). It was nearly a well-kept secret until Joel the local carpenter asked him what time it started just two days before the event.

I gave him one of those super-duper self-published books you can do so easily on a Mac & Ali gave him a day learning how to taste and blend wine. We all went off to Domaine Bourdic and had a fantastic time creating our own blend. By the end of the morning we all had blue tongues from tasting so much 'raw' wine.

But the real panic came during the afternoon when we had to blend, record quantities, taste, adjust, blend again and eventually come up with our very own assemblage which was bottled and given a label with our name on.

It was a truly fantastic and memorable day. Hans & Christa are gifted teachers and each one of us said we'd learnt more about wine in one day than could be imagined. We'll keep you posted about the next chance to do the same assemblage day.

Yesterday we had a real Jean de Florette kind of a morning. For some time we've been lugging 120 litres of water up to our vegetable garden in the vineyards as there's been no water there. But it all changed yesterday thanks to Ebay (where I found the perfect pump), Ib and Andreas. More about it on Ali's blog about our vineyard .

Meanwhile the guests have just been hanging about in hammocks.

Please excuse my absence. I've been in England with my brother, Justin, helping my Mum and her husband, John, clear out their loft, shed and garage. John starts chemotherapy tomorrow and the junk in the roof was one burden Justin and I could lift from their shoulders. It was something of a revelation. You may have noticed that supermarkets have stopped dishing out plastic carrier bags. Like me you might have thought it was a 'green' move, but you'd be wrong. It is so that my Mum can't collect any more. She had what seemed like several thousand in her roof, just in case. They were there with the ancient carpet off-cuts, dozens of sets of non-working Christmas lights and at least eleven suitcases. I am so glad no-one's clearing out our loft here at Le Couvent; it's much, much worse.

Good luck for tomorrow John - we'll be thinking of you.

On the other hand one family member had the most superb good luck today. On the pretext of needing help with shifting a large and heavy box one of our friends (with  Ali & I and as pre-warned accomplices) invited my nephew Josh  to her house. Once we were there he and I lugged the box outside to reveal a sheet-covered scooter just behind it. Josh has been saving for a scooter for a while, but didn't expect our wonderful friend to offer him a brand new, 3kms-on-the-clock, Peugeot VivaCity.  Who would? Josh is a sweet boy and yesterday he got to meet a fairy godmother.  Life gives and life takes.  Naturally he was speechless and breathless with shock and gratitude. Lucky, lucky boy. Thank you St Faith.