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OK, apparently you're no-one these days unless you have a "blog". This however is more like a diary which I'm going to try to keep up for a year or so

July 10

It's the Gartempo music festival in town this week. Think we're a bot old for most of the groups which are playing but it's nice to have music drifting up from the river in the evening.

July 8

Back from the UK. I'm not one of those "I hate England" ex-Pats. I'm very proud of my Yorkshire roots and I love going back to Harrogate every once in a while but, it's nice to be home again. It's just so much more peaceful here and, well, grounded.

We had a good time, despite the Manchester rain! The graduation ceremony was lovely. I've always enjoyed that kind of thing. Speech Days, Sports Days in fact all forms of "Well done" ceremonies. I just clap everyone and feel a big warm glow of humanity. "All will be well with the world in the charge of these gifted young people". Naturally Katie looked beautiful and I was all teary again.

Stayed with my sister and her family which was great. Really good to see them all and to be reminded what life is like with 10-year olds in the house. All those questions! All those well done messages from school stuck to the kitchen door. And so much going on. Lord! Football, rugby, dance, tennis, singing lessons and the rest. Well actually - no rest - just a constant round of drop offs and pick ups in addition to two people working full-time in quite high-powered positions. It all looks so tough now. I've obviously forgotten how to do all that. Clare looked well and happier then the last time I saw her but both she and Rich seem tired. Maybe just me but I think their up-coming French holiday will help.

Naturally, as an ex-Weight Watchers leader and someone who completed the London Marathon, my little sister also looked fit and slim. Another reminder, especially when she told me I was "bouncy", during one sisterly hug, that I need to do something about my weight. Ha Hum!!

It was lovely having the family all together. Michael and Ali came over from Holland and Ben travelled up from Stafford so we had a good night out and a big catch up. Elaine came over from Harrogate as did Steve and Sally. It was all just lovely.

On Tuesday morning Gordon and I went to the Trafford Centre intent on finally nailing the issue of the nice wide-fitting sensible sandals that I needed. We'd never been there before and were pretty aghast. Talk about a cathedral to consumerism. Blimey! Is all that faux marble,. statues, urns, mock swimming pools, water-features and so on really necessary? I was reminded of the news of the previous Sunday evening. We watched Wimbledon (Wow what A final!! Nadal beating Federer like that) and then the local news and Rich was really taken with an item about a Catholic church in Liverpool closing down. It was a really attractive building, all domes and spires and he said that, although he'd never been inside, he regarded it as a landmark. Then there we were at a shopping centre which seems to have been modelled on St Peters in the Vatican. Just weird.

Nevertheless, plastic or not! I finally succumbed to a pair of Crocs. My mate Ann has been banging on about these comfy plastic sandals for ages. Well, I have to say they are brill' Incredibly comfortable, if not very pretty, and you can just wash them under the tap if they're muddy. Also bought some sumptuous comfy leather K sandals from the Clark's shop there. K shoes used to be made in Kendal. Wonder if they still are? When were getting on the plane to come home I clocked a really pretty, fashionable blonde wearing Crocs so I feel a bit better.

July 5

We've had an absolutely terrible week with the dog. He's had a limp for a couple of weeks which we've been monitoring, assuming he'd pulled a muscle or some such and would gradually get better. However on Tuesday I decided enough was enough and took him to the local vet.

He immediately decided he needed to take an X-ray and anaesthetszed poor old Bill (12 this year). When he checked the X-rays he said he thought he had a tumour on his knee and that if he was right and it was bone cancer he would have to be put down pretty well straight away. Blimey! It was all a bit of a shock for both of us. Took Bill home with some Metacam, prescribed for arthritis having been told by the vet that if there was no improvement in a couple of days it would prove it was cancer.

Wednesday I tackled all the weeds in the pool garden and was pretty tearful when pruning the vine, thinking what a really good pal Bill has been for 12 years. the vine probably had a harder haircut than was entirely necessary .Decided that the only way I was going to be sure of the dog's future was to insist on a biopsy.

So, on Thursday I trundled my poor mut back to the vets and left him to have the "op". When I went to pick him up, five hours later, the vet was all smiles. " Bonnes nouvelles. Il n'y a pas de cancer." "OK" I said, thinking well it was only you old mate who thought there was in the first place. "What is it?" Ah, great, a gallic shrug.

Brought Bill home and he was whimpering as if in real pain. There followed 36 hours of the dog howling, whimpering and wailing. He wouldn't eat, didn't seem to know his name or where he was. It was heartbreaking.

Today I took him back to the vet where he howled like a banshee. Seems he'd had an allergic reaction to the anesthetic. The vet tapped the side of his head to indicate the dog was out of his. A prescription for doggie valium followed.

Thankfully it seems to have worked straight away. He's back to his normal self although given he's never been the sharpest pencil in the box we probably won't ever know if there's been any lasting brain damage.

Tomorrow he goes to stay with Brian and Celia as we're off to the UK for Katie's graduation ceremony. Thank God it looks as if he's going to be OK and I know he'll be safe there and well cared for.

Just such a rotten week for him. Starts with a limp, is put on death row, has his bad knee cut open, is given a reprieve, has a really bad trip and now has a worse limp than the one he began with. It's a dog's life.

June 30

It is still incredibly hot. On Saturday evening we moved our outdoors thermometer out of the shade and in to the sunshine. It registered 37decC at 7pm. Phew!!! The cool pool has been a real godsend.

We have been getting back into the normal swing of things after a fortnight of visitors. Gordon's been busy with a few bits of DIY including a new ceiling fan for our bedroom and the start of work on what will be a new deck and seating area at the side of the barn. He's also catching up on promises and has been over to Steve and Cilla's to take down a tree for them and to Clive and Pat's to cut some timber for a new pergola.

The heat means everything seems to take a little longer, even doing the laundry and cleaning the house but it's a good excuse also to sit in the shade in the afternoons and read a book.

The main garden is unbearable after 10am and before 5pm so whatever weeding, hoeing, watering and feeding needs to be done has to be completed at the beginning and end of the day.

The combination of our watering and the heat means however that everything is growing at an alarming rate. The peas are finished and we've definitely decided to grow them again next year we've had such a heavy crop and they are so delicious. We're well in to the second crop of broad beans which are beginning to flag in the heat so we will probably have to speed up our picking rate. The spaghetti squashes are growing very quicklye and I can see a whole lot of that is also bound for the freezer. The Kuri squash seems to space its fruits out a bit better which is a relief. We've had one and, to be honest, we weren't that impressed with the flavour. Think we'll stick to butternut instead. We've finished the potatoes and the spinach and, as usual cannot keep on top of the lettuces.

Disappointing is the way in which the pak choi which looked so good when it went in has bolted and looks pretty poor now. We'll bide our time with it and see how it goes. We're eating the kohlrabi now which is sweet and delicious and the chard is growing really strongly. The parsnips have finally germinated; my second lot of parsley has not despite pouring boiling water over the seeds. I bought leek plants from the market in the end - 4€ for c 50 - can't see any reason to bother fiddling with seeds next year!

Chicory and rocket are storming away to add a lovely peppery kick to salads and the tomatoes, although some have had a touch of blight, are beginning to go from lime green to a pale yellow, another week and, I imagine, they'll be red.

On Thursday we went to Le Lucculus for dinner with Patsy & James. A real treat and a reason to ditch the grubby shorts for something a bit smarter. Nice to see the restaurant was quite busy too. Asparagus mousse, Foie gras, steak/pigeon, an excellent cheese board, fantastic desserts and scrummy little home-made petite-fours.

Friday evening we drove over to Jackie and Richard's and had a delightful evening with them, Steve, Julie and the kids, sitting eating and drinking at a long table in the garden enjoying the lovely peace and tranquility (well apart from the kids and dogs!) and super country views. The only time I ever have a pang about choosing to live in town is when we're there it is just so lovely. Gordon has agreed to try to restore the bread oven next to one of the barns before the end of the year and before it's roof collapses entirely. It might be great fun trying to get it going once more.

June 24

Elaine headed back to the UK today. Yesterday we went in to the centre of Poitiers to have a really good look around the shops. Not the best day to choose, granted, as a lot of the smaller shops were closed but we did find plenty to see and I was amazed at how good the shopping there is.

All this time a shopping trip to Poitiers has always meant the DIY stores on the outskirts. We've looked around the historic bits and the "sights" and enjoyed the Christmas markets and skating but I've never really taken in the clothes shops. Of course, clothes buying is very low on my agenda these days compared to life in the UK. It hardly matters here what you wear even in the fanciest restaurants or more "glam" nights out. There's no sense whatsoever of having to keep up with the latest look or trying not to wear the same outfit too much. It's quite liberating, especially as the middle age spread spreads!!. These days its the weather not fashion which dictates what we wear.

I've bought a new top to wear for Katie's graduation (from the market actually) and a couple of new T-shirts and light-weight shorts (from the supermarket) and that will do me for this "season". I was tempted, when with Elaine, to add a pair of linen trousers and linen shirt but frankly I didn't really need them. Oh and a fashionable baggy, almost maternity style floaty thing. Think I had better count these as my summer clothes shopping 2009. No doubt the floaty thing will be out of fashion by then!

The only thing I really need to do now is find some really serviceable comfy sandals when we're back in the UK so I can retire the ones which I've been wearing for the past three years!!. Here all seems strappy, lightweight and narrow-fit.

As the shops stay open until 7pm we were able to drift from high fashion to high dining in Poitiers and had a lovely dinner at a restaurant overlooking one the squares where the food was really excellent.

June 22

Last night was the Montmorillon fete de music which was, as usual, a really fun, lively night. Gordon missed it unfortunately.

We went to the market at Chauviny in the morning which is a real treat. It's probably my favourite market in the area, including the huge one at Les Herolles. It really buzzes and there's lots of really interesting things to see and buy. We stayed in town for lunch with Gordon choosing to have rillettes as a starter while Elaine and I stuck to salad.

By the time we reached Laurie's birthday party in the late afternoon he had begun to feel unwell but we put it down to the searing heat - 30deg in the shade. Sadly it turned out to be the rillette and he retired to bed, complete with plastic bucket!!

Elaine and I enjoyed the evening though and managed to take in pretty well all the entertainment - lovely traditional accordion music at The Grimoire, Celtic folk at the new outdoors auditorium, Sandrine on the guitar singing French ballads outside the Point du Bois, JD swinging at the new pizza place and a kind of reggae/salsa band at The Bouvard. We stayed longest at the Commerce where Mary was singing with the "Muppets" which was really excellent and a highlight of the evening for us.

It was still really warm even late into the evening. Because we hadn't eaten any of the spit-roast pig at the party or dinner at home we ended up eating Croque Monsieur at Kims at 1am. I suppose it's kind of the French equivalent of going for a late-night kebab only much nicer!

We headed home around 2pm but the party continued for quite a few hours longer. Despite the huge numbers of people out and about and the, no doubt, copious amounts of booze consumed, the town was really quite tidy when I popped down this morning.

It has been really hot for the last few days so we've been sticking to the shade, although I did have a lovely dip in the pool as the gite's empty at the moment. The water heater is off which I actually prefer when it is this hot.

Needless to say the current heat wave is having a dramatic effect on the garden which we now have to water every morning and evening.

June 16

The Salon de Livre seems to have been a big success. The weather held and the whole Cite was buzzing with book and craft stalls. Lovely to see everyone busy for a change. Even Agnes seems to have a successful weekend! There was a Vide Grenier in the main square which was a bit disappointing especially compared to the huge Bocante we went to at Lussac last weekend.

Patsy & James joined us and the girls at The Grimoire for sausage and chips on Saturday evening which was a giggle then we popped down to Kim's where an English guy was singing. Surreal and so terribly poor it was almost good although ending with sing-along sea shanties when everyone was really trying to sneak away wasn't perhaps the best choice. Ah well.

We took the girls over to La Rochelle on Friday and enjoyed a really lovely day wandering around the old port and the shops. We ate huge bowls of moules and frites over-looking the yachting marina where Amy was even brave enough to try one of Gordon's oysters. I don't think it is a taste she'll be trying to acquire. When we got home they both rang the UK to get their results. Katie has a 2:1 but was a little miffed at being very close to a first. Seems so strange that the University stage of their lives is over and now they're looking at all the new directions in which they might travel. Exciting but also scary.

Called in to Mary's on Saturday so the girls could see my expo. She had sold some more paintings so now I have covered all my material costs and a bit more so I'm please with my first attempt at "art". I feel I can justify carrying on now and would like to explore some new ideas when I find the time.

The weather has turned a bit drizzly now but the girls don't seem to mind too much. They're just chilling and, I think, enjoying being fed and watered regularly.

June 10

The town's getting ready for the big Salon de Livre at the weekend. The streets have been washed and they are beginning to put up all the tents and stalls. Hope the weather holds out! There's a reasonable mix of inside and outdoor events - book and poetry readings as well as the market and various displays. A lot is going in the schools which is good. There's also a couple of car boot sales at the same time.

We're off to Le Grimoire on Saturday evening to enjoy their soiree to mark the fete. I imagine Theirry will have his new barbeque on the go.

The garden's booming at the moment thanks to the hot/stormy weather. We've nearly eaten all the new potatoes - Lovely. Saving the last few plants for when Katie's here. Been doing quite a bit of boring stuff - weeding, thinning, trimming etc - and got the backs of my legs burned! But have been rewarded with baskets full of broad beans, peas and courgette alongside the lettuce and radishes which form the staple of our lunches. The Pak Choi is especially strong now along with the multi-coloured Chard and Asparagus peasl. Yet again, the parsnips haven't germinated and we seem also to be having problems with the leek seeds. Nothing which can't be sorted but always a little disappointing.

We're also munching our way through tons of herbs as everything is growing so fast and not all will freeze well. I think it was Elizabeth David who said that one of the best things to eat was a herb omelette - fresh eggs, fresh herbs, fresh butter .Absolutely!!

June 1

Yesterday was the beginning of my first art exhibition. Quite unnerving really. We had an amazing turn-out - something like 60 people came and everyone was really complimentary. Deborah is keen for me to join the Montmorillon art group which is quite a challenge. We sold three paintings which covered the cost of the wine and nibbles we provided and a little bit more. I was a little bit disappointed as I don't really want the paintings back once the expo's over. I'm keen to move on but I really can't grumble.

I also have a commission which is quite complicated so I'm going to wait until after all our visitors have gone before I begin it.

It's all a far cry from life chained to a desk in the UK and I still feel I need to pinch myself every now and again. We are so lucky.

The weather is steaming hot with massive thunder-storms every now and again which clear the air beautifully as well as watering the garden!

Back in the swing now of gite turn-arounds, pool maintenance and gardening.

May 28

Well today was a first! Ray and Gillian dropped by with a lamb - payment for Gordon helping to put a kitchen in their little town house - and we had to set too and butcher it ourselves!!

Actually it wasn't too difficult and we had quite a laugh. Lamb's so expensive here and we really do enjoy it so its great to have a freezer full. Boiled up all the little scraggy bits and bones for stock and got enough meat for lamb madras. First since we left England - lovely treat.

May 25

Back home from an unplanned extended stay in Holland, both gites are full and we're taking a bit of a breather.

Our trip was lovely. To coin the old "ad" we let the train take the strain so had a perfectly hassle-free journey up to Paris. Remarkably we left home at 6.30am to drive to Poitiers station and were in Paris by 9.30am. Equally easy and restful were the train journeys to Antwerp and Rosenthal. The only glitch was a strike by Belgian railways on the day we were due to return so we had to stay in Breda for an extra night. Bit frustrating and possibly expensive as I wasn't able to change the TGV booking so had to pay again. But we saw as little ore of Michael and Ali which was super.

Paris was, as ever, simply fabulous and we walked for miles to take in all the sights. I don't think there is another city which pulls off the breathtaking civic pomp of the Place de la Concorde/Jarden des Tuilleries, Louvre & Champs-Elysees and the Sacre-Coer remains my all-time favourite (York Minster aside, naturally).

Walking down from Pigalle where we stayed at a brilliantly positioned and very reasonable Ibis, we took in Opera, Gallerie Lafeyette, Madelaine et al. We paid 10E for two cups of coffee (Ouuch!!) which is kinda when you know you're in Paris. Had a sandwich lunch in the Tuilleries which cost as much as a full-blown dinner at home and were so comprehensively ripped-off at at dinner in Montmartre by one of the most audacious wine-waiters I've ever encountered that it almost counted as part of the overall experience. (That'll teach us to ask to see the carte de vins and not take a recommendation!)

Good old Paris! Looking forward to going again in the Autumn

Our brief visit en-route in Antwerp was a real highlight. What a beautiful city! We could have wandered through the area surrounding the stunning gothic cathedral for hours. Antwerp railway station itself is worth the journey by itself. A cathedral of a building, as you come up the escalators from the very modern underground platforms the old building takes your breath away.

The platforms are covered by a huge iron and glass vault, which has recently been restored. This also houses a multitude of small diamond and gold shops, which are part of the diamond district next to the station.

The station has just undergone a massive restoration and expansion programme which has included adding two lower-level platforms, including one for high speed trains. I cannot imagine the chaos there must have during such massive works but the results are incredible

The walk from the station to the cathedral area takes you through one of the main shopping areas, the Meir, which is very impressive for its range of top notch designer names.

We had lunch at a pavement cafe in the Grote Market which reminded me very much of the centre of Brussels with is lavish renaissance architecture, overlooking the Brabo statue.

This was a bit of a revelation! I hadn't expected the menus to be solely in Flemish! Quite indecipherable. Apart from some basics - I'd encountered Waterzooi soup, for instance, in Belgium and asperge was familiar but the rest!!??

Nevertheless we ate well with Gordon enjoying a really lovely meaty white fish dish-of-the-day while I tucked into white asparagus served in the Flemish-style with melted butter and chopped hard-boiled eggs and parsley.

After too few hours in Antwerp - a place we'll definitely try to visit again, perhaps combined with Brugge as I've always hankered after visiting the Christmas market there. I reckon that even with the metro transfer across Paris we could make Poitiers-Antwerp in about 5 hours.

We stayed for the next five nights at Breda with Michael and Ali. it was lovely to spend time with them both and to see them so content in their new, if temporary, life.

Breda is a delightful little city with lots to see and do and a feeling almost like a wealthy town in the home counties. Their flat is in the up-market Baronielaan area, an easy walk into the centre and, as we found on our first evening, also to a delightful old village, now part of Breda where we enjoyed a street-side sushi aperitif which included some fabulous wasabi-coated dried green peas.

The centre of Breda is very pretty and jammed with pavement cafes and designer shops. The town is circled by rivers and canals which adds to its attractions. There is beautiful cathedral, a moated castle and masses of green spaces and pretty parks.

A highlight of our day there was a visit to the Begijnhof, a small square of almshouses with church set up to house dingle or widowed women who dedicated their lives to the church. At its centre are a series of immaculately tended little herb, vegetable and flower gardens.

Gordon was delighted to find Euro-slot machines in the streets which dispense hot spicy frikandel sausages day and night.

Michael's AA guide to The Netherlands was pretty disparaging of Dutch food and apparently the factory canteen is focussed on deep-fried or "mashed" Stamppot delicacies. However, since the kids have been there they've rooted out some very tasty stuff. Superb pea soup seems to be available almost everywhere along with huge and really good sandwiches, especially those with smoked salmon or a meat spread called Americaine which is apparently, like pureed steak tartar. It didn't appeal to me but Gordon and Michael enjoyed it.

We were just too early for the Herring season, which was a shame, especially as we saw all the advertising going up for the Hollandse nieuwe - new season.

The biggest surprise was the strong influence of Indonesian food. Chinese and Indonesian supermarkets and literally hundreds of restaurants where ever we went meant we were spoiled for choice.

We ate a traditional Indonesian rice table or Rijsttafel in Amsterdam which is, apparently, exclusively Indo-Dutch. We were presented with huge plates of rice together with about 20 different side dishes including pickled cucumber, chicken curry, pork satay, spicy beef, prawns and peppers, spiced eggs, bean sprouts, fried coconut. A really tasty banquet. An experience as well as a meal.

Amsterdam was a real treat and really lived up to our expectations with its thousands of cyclists, pretty canals and superb old buildings. With only a few hours to spend we didn't really do it justice and both think there is so much to see and do it really needs a long weekend.

We were thrilled by the flower market (no surprises there!) and couldn't resist buying some bulbs to bring home. Everything was so reasonable and there were some really rare and, usually, expensive gems for a fraction of what we would have normally expected to pay.

Ali and I each bought a little piece of Delft porcelain as a reminder of our day.

We wandered down by the red light district which didn't seem as sleazy as we'd imagined . The brothel windows with their posing prostitutes do however, instill an immediate sense of embarrassment mixed with curiosity. You've gone to look and then you don't like to! Apparently the atmosphere can be quite different in the evenings and there are suggestions the area may be closed down. It has already been reduced in size by one third. but I suspect it will prove just too important for Amsterdam's tourist trade. Closure would also, surely push all these now legal activities underground and into the arms of the drug dealers and organised crime groups.

One thing which did amuse us was the three crosses which form the Amsterdam city crest At first we thought this must be referring to the X-rated elements of the city, or that perhaps the common XXX-rating referred to Amsterdam.

The fact is these are St. Andrew's crosses, named after the apostle St. Andrew who is said to have been martyred on such a cross. Did seem a little ironic though!

On the edge of the red light area we visited the utterly charming Museum Amstelkring which looks totally unassuming from the outside but which houses a secret Catholic church, known as Ons' Lieve Heer op Solder (Our Dear Lord in the Attic) which dates from 1663, when Catholics lost their right to worship openly

There are also a series of fascinating rooms showing daily Dutch life in the 17th century with furniture, paintings, and two kitchens with Delft tiles.

Our visit to Arnhem the next day was a little less inspiring. The famous bridge over the Rhine is, well, a big bridge and the nearby war memorial is small and simple. Which is not necessarily a bad thing but not quite what we were expecting. The Airborne Museum which keeps alive the memory of the Battle of Arnhem is actually is nearby Oosterbeek and closed on Mondays.

Nevertheless we enjoyed wandering around the pretty historic centre of Arnhem which may be Michael and Ali's next destination, so we were all looking with a slightly different perspective. The general consensus was that is seems a very nice city to live in if they do transfer there.

One thing which did strike us was how pretty the city was given its virtual destruction during the war and how well it had been re-built. The Eusebius Church, for example, was destroyed by bombing and then fire but has been completed restored. no longer a church but a tourist centre it does have a commemorative to the allied forces who fought for Arnhem and also, now, a lift to take you almost to the top of the massive spire so you can get a panoramic view of the city.

Next to the old church is a lovely renaissance house which used to be the town hall and which is decorated with stone devils.

May 14

It has been so,so hot here for the past three weeks. Everything seems to have changed colour, including us! We've been working in the gardens at home and at the gites most days trying to get on top of everything before we zip off to Paris tomorrow.

Everything is looking fabulous, my little flower and herb bed is now a mass of roses, multi coloured anenomes, iris, tulips and flowering sage, thyme and rosemary. It looks terrific and smells wonderful.

Whereas a few weeks ago we were moaning about the rain, now we're busy watering everything every morning and evening. But that's more a pleasure than a chore. I swear if you sit quietly you can hear things grow!

Since we split and re-potted the hostas and moved them down to the side of the house they have gone berserk. Each is about three feet across and shooting hugely long flower stems up. We seem to have cracked the slug problem too so they don't look like swiss cheese any more. Although we've seen hostas here ours seems something of a novelty to our neighbours the problem is that even my huge Oxford Hachette dictionary doesn't have a translation for hosta so I haven't been able to answer very effectively the queries about what they are.

The olive tree is in bud as is the new honeysuckle we've planted to, hopefully, climb up to the balcony. I did wonder if our two year old Wisteria might flower but, as we were told, it will be next year. Still, I swear it has grown three feet in three weeks!

The "potager" is well under way. All the tomato plants are out, staked and tied. Gordon grew so many we've also supplied plants to five friends!. All the green stuff - broccoli, cabbage, brussels, chard etc are in the ground and growing hard, onions, and shallots, broad beans, peas, haricots, courgette, squash et al are all so pleased to be out of pots and in the ground at last. Spinach, radish, carrot and beetroot seeds are all through. As usual, there's no sign of the parsnips but they'll come; probably while we're away when poor Bernard, our next door neighbour will take on watering duties. I don't think he quite knows what he's let himself in for as we've also got all the window boxes, hanging baskets and tubs ready for here and the gites.

Someone said to me a while ago that we were "living the life". I'm not entirely certain what they meant . The so-called good life I imagine or, at least, a life people who are considering a move to France have in mind. I was reminded again last week whilst shoveling horse manure out of the van into wheelbarrows to take up the garden. We worked for an hour in pongy heat. Then there was the truly back-breaking work of digging trenches for muck and soil before plating out. We've also spent a good week, off-and-on, cleaning every inch of the gites, scrubbing clean mossy patios, weeding, washing garden furniture etc. All pretty hard work in baking heat. I'm not complaining. I'm really not. It is all still far preferable, and healthier, than driving a desk. But for every image of us sitting outside in the garden in the early evening with a glass of chilled rose there should probably also be one of us sticky, sweaty and smelly lifting, carrying, mending and digging.

Talking about sitting outside. We now have a pair of great tits, one of sparrows and one of red-tails feeding from the seed dispenser hanging from the balcony. They are an absolute delight and have added a new sound to our evening apperos - that of sunflower seeds being expertly split by banging them on the metal gutters. The house martins and swallows are back, swooping and gliding around our perfectly blue skies and as dusk comes in there are bats and the ding-dong of the bell toads up by the well.

Now if that isn't worth shoveling some s...t for I don't know what is!

Now it's shorts and T weather I really must lose some weight... will start diet when back from Paris and Breda!

May 10

It was our neighbour's funeral today. We had hoped to attend but it was away out of town and we weren't invited. However I did go to the wake. Gordon was away at friends. I'd noticed people taking presents in so quickly grabbed a miniature rose I'd brought from England, re-potted it in something nice, changed into all black and duly arrived.

It was, I suppose as wakes should be, a little bit somber but also quite jolly. Someone scooped my rose away and handed my a tumbler of clear liquid. Now, I've heard about Eau de Vie but never encountered it before. Blimey! This smelled a bit like peach melba, felt like red hot pokers and made my knees buckle within about 20 minutes. It didn't sadly improve my French so, as often, I found myself doing a pretty good impression of a back-window nodding dog.

The fact that everyone was referring to our neighbour as Paul was a bit mystifying as for three years we've called him Pierre/Peter. As I left I looked at the door name plate - just a "P". But I have one of those funny oops language feelings. I rather fell we've called him the wrong name all this time and he's just been too polite to correct us.

May 6

Our neighbour died yesterday. Three weeks ago he was fine. Two weeks ago he was the colour of a tangerine. He went into hospital in Poitiers for an "op" to remove a tumour from his pancreas. Now he is dead. It is a fragile thing.

He was a charming, gentle, lovely man who would have so much liked to spend time in Gordon's workshop speaking French. Not to be.

He epitomised the welcome we have received here. Kind, caring, sharing, a little intrigued by these new foreign neighbours. But always a gentleman, always a smile. Just lovely.

I hope our frivolity over lunch in the garden yesterday was not offensive or distressing.

May 5

Katie went back today after spending a long weekend here which has been lovely and very warm. We had French friends here for Sunday lunch so, par for the course, I decided on the full traditional English Sunday roast, including Yorkshire puddings and roast potatoes, followed by Bakewell tart and custard. Well I didn't know it was going to be 20deg in the shade!! It was a little surreal eating that sort of meal around a big table in the garden but it also provided a talking point. Not least the problems we all had explaining gravy. Nevertheless it was clean plates all round and one youngster even told me that he liked English food very much.

I always try to cook something quintessentially English when we have french friends here, partly to make a point and partly because they are always keen to taste it. This is fairly easy in the winter - nothing beats a steak and kidney pie with suet crust (although I do have to get the suet from England) or a really good bread and butter pudding - but summertime English fayre is a bit more tricky. There doesn't really seems much to differentiate. These's cold poached salmon with all the trimmings which I think is very English but which the French would probably think is fairly universal.

Gordon does his own hot smoked salmon with is a treat, together with smoked haddock, trout and mackerel which are difficult to find here and always go down well. I have done a big hot-water crust pork pie which everyone enjoyed but, you can buy a less good but similar product in the local supermarket and it didn't seem particularly summery. Nor did it or my Cornish pasties, and scotch eggs, dispel the "all English food is stodgy" myth.

I've tried Delia's Summer Selection - Thai, Polenta, Hallumi cheese - Hum!! Lovely recipes but?? Gary Rhodes Around Britain wasn't much better. The first ingredient, of the first recipe on the first page was French Green Beans.

So I began going back into the really old stuff - via Elisabeth Ayrton - which is when it began to dawn on me that actually, there isn't much difference, or at least there wasn't. It's just that the French are still revelling in dishes which have long gone in Britain and the British have embraced and enjoy foods from all over the world. Here local restaurants can pretty well guarantee a full house for "la tête de veau" evenings but I don't think calf's head with boiled eggs and potatoes would quite have the same pulling power in England as it apparently did in the 16th century.

When four or more ex-pat Brits get together for dinner here there's a pretty good chance curry will be on the menu but offer the average Frenchman a good madras or even an onion bhaji and you will see a visible shudder.

The English seem to have a particular appetite for all things spicy or vinegary - Mint sauce, pickles and chutneys in particular - but just recently our local barman ceremoniously handed us a very posh jar of mint and balsamic jelly which had been a gift saying: "Do you want this English sauce it is terrible."

So I've decided to stop trying too hard on the English-food front and go with the flow of what's in season and what's looking really good to eat this summer. It has all become a bit academic. Maybe I'll try something Middle Eastern next time.

April 15

Oh joy, joy and joy…. The first asparagus from the garden for lunch. Nothing namby-pamby about this either. Shoots with the diameter of a ten-pence piece, bursting with flavour.

Picked, rinsed, blanched, sautéed in fab Poitou butter. On the plate in 15 mins. Had some home-made wholegrain bread to go with it. Just perfect.

Finally spring is here. The verges are covered in cowslips and everything is turning a lovely lime green.

Potatoes are through in the garden as are the peas and as for Gordon’s cold frame, well it’s a riot of beautiful healthy plants, all from seed and all virtually ready-to-go.

But, it’s still wet and the garden is still too boggy to work. Time will tell.

Hum.. Think all these entries are about food. Have decided no apology is necessary we lived for food in the UK and now food is an even bigger part of our lives. Well that and good wine, good friends and good neighbours.

My father is renowned for looking my daughter straight in the face and saying: “I’ll tell you something Katherine. In this world (pause) there is nothing (pause) more important than (very big pause) food.”

It all made us laugh but …. Maybe he was right.

Mind you he also lays claim to: Nil Desperundum Carberundum" which , apparently, means “Don't let the bastards grind you down.” I do hope so.

It’s not about what you put in your mouth to digest in order to be sustained during a busy life. It’s about nurturing, caring, loving and giving.

Well that’s what I’ve decided. As my belly grows bigger, hopefully my heart does too.

Oh - chervil, dill and tarragon seeds all through now. Bliss

April 10

We went to collect our first produce from the March’Equitable today and it was a real giggle.

Our friends Jean-Pierre and Deborah have been nagging us for ages now to switch to buying meat, poultry, cheese, eggs, veg.. you name it from the local organic farmers who have clubbed together to form this bi-weekly market.

Based on my experiences in the UK, I assumed the prices would be just too high for us but when I finally checked the price list against prices at the local supermarket I was really pleasantly surprised. All the producers are within a Euro or so per kilo which means we can now buy this lovely produce without bankrupting ourselves. We can eat more healthily and we can make sure our money is spent absolutely locally. Jean-Pierre is convinced that joining in with the Marché will also improve our French which is another bonus.

I phoned round the various farmers last week to put in my order for a mixed selection of pork – chops, sausages and thick lean slices of belly – and a free-range guinea fowl. Then this evening we drove out to the collection point to pick it up. There was quite a gathering there with buyers and farmers all chatting and taste-testing. Needless to say we were also tempted by fresh-pressed apple and pear juice, a newly baked pain and (still warm) olive bread.

There was a lot of very good humoured banter and a little bit of local politics. A delightful way to shop. We’re a bit of a British novelty so a few jokes were on us. Not least because I’d managed to give the wrong phone number – one digit out – yet the farmer still spoke to an English person, albeit a confused one. Maybe there are just too many of us out here!

I talked to my daughter, Katie, about the marché this evening and she had a real old rant about food prices in England. Generally speaking, in the past, I would have said food prices in France were more than in the UK but the quality was higher.

Katie tells me, however that because of Jamie Oliver she and her fellow students can’t afford their staple chicken breasts as prices have soared. I’m sure any rise in chicken prices in England isn’t all the fault of poor old Jamie and actually, although I didn’t admit it to Katie, even if they are I say “good on you” if it means no more batteries. The upshot it seems is a few students now get together each Sunday cook a whole chicken and each adds veggies and puds. Sounds, not only healthier but also, far more sociable than each buying and eating a solitary chicken breast.

I know it was different when I was buying and cooking for a family rather than just the two of us but surely it’s better to pay a little more and perhaps eat a little less of really good quality food that keep demanding “pile-it-high and sell-it-cheap” supermarketing.

Apparently one of the main reasons for rising UK food prices is the cost of fuel, alongside poor harvests, global demand from the Chinese and India new middle-classes, bio-fuel production et al.

So buying local as with our March’Equitable makes even more sense. Gosh I’m feeling almost evangelical. There’s only one big “but”. There are eight producers in the group at the moment. When I asked Jean-Pierre how many would be needed to feed Montmorillon he reckoned 300. Ah… Not likely then.

Then again…

Generally all the butchers, bakers, and grocers in town, including the supermarket do try to buy locally. It makes financial sense for them too! It might not be organic (or bio as its termed here) but it is still very good quality and happily all marked with its origin so you can make local choices.

I used to order my weekly shop from Tescos over the internet. It saved me time and aggravation, meant I had simply to tick boxes and, as I saw it, kept one car – mine – off the road. We had some howlers along the way with miss clicks – 42 tins of tuna being a classic. The grocery van arrived, out came a stream of plastic carrier bags and it was all hands to the pumps to unload it all.

Now I walk to buy bread for lunch. I either harvest fruit and veggies from the garden or walk down to the market once a week and buy them there which is also where I buy my fish. Eggs are usually swaps with friends and neighbours who have poultry. Our comparatively infrequent trips to the supermarket are usually induced by running out of cat food. But they’re also quite pleasurable now because of the novelty.

Mar 28

The whole house feels like a potting shed at the moment with every radiator top and empty window sill covered with seed trays.

We’re trying a host of new things this year: - five different types of tomato, sweet peppers, spaghetti and kuri squash, kohl rabi and even, just to see if we can succeed with it, lemon grass, are all now beginning to germinate and being moved gradually out into the cold frames. The red cabbage seedlings are almost ready for pricking out along with this year’s brussel sprouts, purple sprouting broccoli and courgettes.

A good few tomato plants have already been potted on and the other seedlings look very healthy. Looks are though we’ll having plenty for “swaps”.

The garden itself is a bit miserable. Still so wet!!. We are gorging on purple sprouting broccoli, one of my favourites, at the moment, as well as sewing seeds for next year. This year’s broccoli is especially prolific so as well as eating it as a vegetable – lovely as a starter with hollandaise – I’ve been making soup to freeze. We still also have an abundance of leeks and spring greens and the last of the parsnips and beetroot but not much more.

Despite how cold and wet the ground has been this year’s broad beans are well on their way. I love broad beans, not just to eat, but also as plants. They’re easy to sow, burst out of the ground within weeks and grow strong and hard almost immediately. We’ve also planted 12 little lettuce plants bought from the market.

The onions and shallots have begun to sprout and we’ve got one row of potatoes in. Potatoes are so cheap to buy it seems daft giving them all the room and water they need in the garden but we can’t resist having just one row to enjoy fresh-dug new potatoes.

We’re in two minds about growing haricot vert as last year we were over-run with them and there are still masses in the freezer but I have finally persuaded Gordon to put in half a row of peas. Whether it’s something from my childhood but I adore eating peas fresh from the pod, preferably before they make it into the pan. We’ve also got some asparagus pea seeds which sound fun. These, apparently you eat when they are just a couple of inches long – pea and pod- and they are supposed to taste of asparagus. Talking of which I have begun my daily vigil to the asparagus bed in the hope of seeing some little purple heads pushing through the soil. It’s easy to convince yourself that there’s movement but I think it’s just wishful thinking at the moment.

I think I’ve been premature with some outdoor seeds as the weather is still really grotty. My big pot of rocket has begun to shoot but there’s no sign of life from the chervil, dill and coriander. Still the tarragon and last year’s rocket over-wintered in the cold frame are big and boisterous so salads now have a bit more zing!

The other big over-wintering success is our horseradish root which was bought mail-order last autumn and is looking very healthy. I have high hopes for this. Apparently horseradish is very vigorous and should give us a root at the end of the year sufficient to use some, store some and give some away. I must remember to plant it out soon into a big deep pot.

Until very recently you couldn’t buy horseradish here and it was one thing we missed so the idea of growing our own was obvious. We’re not alone either. Virtually everyone who knows we have the plant has put their name down for a bit of root when we have enough!

Despite how productive this all sounds we are well behind with planting compared to last year and dramatically late getting beds ready. The garden is just too wet. Oh for some prolonged sunshine!

Mars 17

I love waking up in Montmorillon. Our early morning call is around a quarter to seven when one guy zings up the road on his mob (scooter) sounding like a bee in a jam jar.

At seven the church bells begin. Our church, Notre Dame in La Cité de L’Écrit, chimes seven. A couple of minutes later the church Saint-Martial across the other side of town strikes seven. Then both go into their morning peals. Church times are not synchronised which might be said to be symbolic of the old-new divide in the town.

No matter, the result is a wonderful church bell snooze button!

Our first sense of the kind of day it might be is the quality of light flowing in through the louvered shutters – grey, white, blue? In high summer the light often appears yellow with the promise of a hot day.

At this time of year and especially now, after what seems to have been an interminably long wet spell, it’s blue we’re hoping for, and increasingly being rewarded with.

We’re blessed that when we left the UK for France we also left the daily 9-5. So, I have to admit that some days, even the bright blue ones, we don’t leap from our bed on the dot. We often doze for a while or discuss plans for the day. Either way, the single church chime at half-past the hour is usually the signal for us to throw back the shutters and really take stock of the day.

We’re blessed again every morning for our bedroom window overlooks the beautiful 12 th century Notre Dame church, a view I cannot imagine ever tiring of.

If we’re late opening the shutters one or two of our immediate neighbours is generally about to call up “Bonjour” as they set off to walk the dog, buy bread or visit their allotment. A good reason not to get carried away and fling open the window before dressing!

There’s a gentle murmur on the street for the next hour or so as people meet and greet, discuss the weather and current topics, set out for work, open up their shops.

Soon teenagers begin walking up the street heading for the Lycee often crossing with mothers walking their youngsters in the opposite direction down to the local primary school in Place du Vieux Marché (sadly on the list for closure).

During the summer the gentle ebb and flow of local life in rue Champien will be supplemented by tourists walking by and traffic volume will lift a little. But at this time of year in the morning and pretty much throughout the day, life moves up and down at an unhurried pace with everyone having time to gossip, to have a laugh or a really good moan. By now we recognise who is out and about without having to see them. Agnes, always in a hurry and always in heels, clack-clacking, Jean-Marc striding ponderously around deep in thought (funny how you can tell by someone’s footsteps that they’ve got their shoulders hunched up), Bernard walking his old spaniel, its claws scraping the path and Annie fussing with her doorstep plants.

In winter we all retreat indoors away from the cold and in summer we are often inside to avoid the heat! But at the moment it seems everyone is out and about, happy to see the first signs of Spring and to catch up with one another. There are little DIY jobs being done and/or being discussed at length and there is still plenty of minor disputes about recent political changes. We have begun the annual seedling swaps and debates about long-term weather forecasts.

Delphine has already started her summer-long “borrowing” of garden tools and I’m sure I’m not the only one contemplating a bit of Spring Cleaning. Thierry has put chairs and tables outside the bar, although this probably has more to do with the smoking-ban than a real turn in the weather. Still it’s another little sign that spring is on its way. So here’s to a time when the light through the shutters will be bright blue every morning.