Sunday, October 16, 2016

What Happened to the Golden Oriole?

What happened to the golden oriole? It came in the spring, filled the valley with song, then disappeared. I heard it in the village but not a sighting nor sounding have I heard here, since. A mystery. There are plenty of figs...

There are also quite a lot of grapes, considering the plants are young, less than three years old. The Cabernet sauvignan growing by the studio is looking lush. It enjoys the irrigation system and the shelter.

The guava bush is falling over, laden with fruit. I will have to figure out how to prune it. I think I can treat it like a hedge. The other fruit tree which has red fruit that look like guavas and I've forgotten it's name, is also laden with yummy fruit. I just picked a lot to ease the young branches.

Today I managed to stay at home and do very little. I sat in the morning sun and did some spinning, then I wandered through the garden with the secateurs
looking for olive branches which I sat on the doorstep and peeled. Very relaxing.

And this is what I will be working on tomorrow. It is already lovely. I will wax it with home made wax polish (beeswax, linseed oil, turps) til it shines enough to slip when wearing woolly socks!

Saturday, October 1, 2016

Muddy Stuff and a Whiff of the Sea

It feels like an age since I last wrote here. This is the time of change. R has gone to UK to work and I have long quiet times, but I have also been manically busy working on the renovation job in the village. My latest excitement is mud floor making.

Look at those earthen plaster walls

Almost edible

I did the first bit by myself and the next day when my young assistant came I thought why not let him have a go? He was a natural! I am so pleased with his skill (which he didn't know he had) that I have decided to do the hall and the kitchen/living area too! Now it is drying and then I will oil it and do other stuff to it to make it look even better.

The garden is quietly slipping into autumn mode. No more tomatoes, but the occasional courgette. The figs ripen and fall, with drunken wasps hanging to their sticky skins.

I am off to Bristol for a week, and then it will be nearly time for the cob workshop. That is exciting.

Sometimes you have to eat sardines by the sea just to remember what a lovely life it is!