My First Demonstration

I am not sure that it is to my credit that I have waited until my 70th year to take part in a rally.  This reflects though, the fact that I have been politically ignited by the vote to leave the EU last June.  I cannot begin to rehearse the emotions I have experienced since that tragic day.  How many hours have I got to spend at the screen writing about it?  It is only very recently that I have woken in the morning without the predicament that the UK finds itself in being the first thing on my mind.  So it is little surprise to me that I should feel compelled to join the Unite for Europe march in London on March 25th.  This is the day before Nick and I fly out to South Africa with our family to spend three weeks visiting the place of birth of our son-in-law.

Armed with bunches of daffodils to lay in Parliament Square following the terrorist incident outside the Houses of Parliament a few days before, and sporting blue and yellow garments and beanie I have knitted specially for the occasion, Nick find ourselves on Godalming station platform waiting for a train.  There is one other group of four people who are evidently going to London for the same purpose.  During the journey by train and underground to Hyde Park I am not overwhelmed by evidence of many other people who have the same destination in mind.  Emerging at Green Park however, I immediately connect with some of my fellow Admins from the 48% Facebook page and it is good to flshe out the faces of those names with whom I have been working in the virtual world of social media these past months. IMG_6772 We make our way to a meeting point by one of the big London hotels in Park Lane.  Marc Davies is a marshall, EP has brought a huge banner which Nick ends up hefting with him.

We marched to Parliament Square and I will always remember the amazing atmosphere of the warm, friendly and determined solidarity of Remainers.  _95316662_mediaitem95316661And the charming policemen and women I stopped to thank for keeping a watchful eye over the assembled.  It is believed that in excess of 100,000 people took part that day.  By the time the first marchers had arrived at Parliament Square the back end of the march had not even left Park Lane.  We listened to impassioned speeches by such luminaries as David Lammy, Peter Tatchell, Alastair Campbell, Tim Farron, Nick Clegg…..

Such marches have several functions the principal one being to make a manifestation (to use the French word) to the powers that be.  Just important for me though is that such an occasion strengthens the resolve to fight Brexit all the way.

Emerging Spring Blooms

Before we close up the house I grab my iPad and make a quick tour of the garden.  In truth I have not carried out quite as much taming as I had hoped.  Where the time has gone, well it just has.  So how does our garden grow and what is showing its floral head?

We are coming to terms with the loss of the major part of our largest Mimosa tree.  When Nick ‘phoned me from France to tell me what had happened I imagined a yawning space on the lawn with a clear view from the house to the little wooden shed at the end of the ornamental area of our garden.  In truth, the small part of the trunk/branch which survived does offer some screening.  If it survives and flourishes, and this is not a given since some of the rootstock was wrenched to the surface where the tree listed to the point that it  hit the garden wall, then it will gradually expand to fill the gap.  And there are one or two Mimosa saplings who may have been given their chance too.  One determining factor will be the presence of the fungus that infested the fallen tree.  If the mycorrhizae are still in the ground……..

The other victim to that extreme bout of frosts and cold high winds was our much loved lemon tree.  Since we moved to the house in 2005 it has yielded lemons continuously.  The fruits mature over a longer interval than one year, it is not seasonal and at any one time we have buds, blossom, baby lemons, green bullets and mature yellow fruits.  We have to pick the lemons and keep them for at least 3 weeks before we could consider them ripe, that is when the skin is pliable and the flesh inside is juicy.  Only then are they user-friendly.

Two shrubs have given great cause for delight.  The Chaenomeles japonica which I planted in the early days has put on a reasonable display this year.  When I planted it I knew that it was going into very poor ground.  The soil was very rubbly and reflected the fact that much of the back garden was given over to carparking and general neglect when our house functioned as the premises for an insurance company.

The other shrub is a triumph however and I think that it has and will continue to benefit from the opening up of its local environment as a result of the tumbled tree.  I planted three Camellia bushes and they have had mixed fortunes.  Soil type is, of course, critical but I think I haven’t always kept the ground around the plants clear of encroaching ground cover which is one of my good friends, except when it does what is meant to, to excess!  I lifted one very sick, yellow-leaved plant and put it in a pot.  It has recovered well.  The raspberry ripple variety is covered in flowers and the red one which was completely overshadowed by the Mimosa has more flowers than I have ever seen.  I’ve still a way to go with my Camellia but I see they are cause worth fighting for.

Apart from these individuals whom I have singled out for mention all the usual suspects are doing well.  The daffodils, the Helleborus, my good friend Daphne odora, can be relied upon to give pleasure.

At the front of the house my various pots and containers are showing flashes of colour.  One little group of plants is doing particularly well.  Tucked behind the woodpile I have a pot with a rather spindly conifer.  I cannot bring myself to dispense with it because it brings a bit of height to my plantings and I am sentimental about plants and why put a living plant down unnecessarily?  So this small conifer with various sparse foliage lives on, a remnant of the plants we inherited when we bought the house in 2005.  At that time it was planted in the small, raised pie segment of a bed in the corner underneath the Trachelospermum which clads the southwest wall of our façade.  Beneath the naked stem of this conifer there is carpet of blue Chionodoxa and I love them. IMG_6762 (2)

 

 

A Bookish Lunch then Off we Hop

During the week after my birthday Nick and I enjoyed a Bookish Lunch chez Shaxson.  This was an event which had been much juggled in terms of format.  Celia wished to return hospitality and in the end a pub lunch was rejected in favour of the Shaxson venue at which Celia would play hostess.  Annabel made us a delicious vegetable soup which we followed with cheeses and raspberries.  It was a cabbages and kings occasion with a smattering of bookery.

A couple of days later we were on the ferry bound for Normandy.  Our lovely friends the Tailles had invited us to Sunday lunch, the following day would be Francois’ birthday.  I spent a week reconnecting with la vie francaise then we returned to Dorset for my mother’s birthday and a visit to see the ‘Prof’ to have some minor skin treatment.  On Friday we travelled back, me and my very sore back, to join the Poulets as guests of Daniel and Christine.  Daniel cooked his incomparable Encornets farcis.  encornets farcisWe ate at the Chasse Maree the following evening with Francois and Anne, and their friends Odile and Philippe.  During the ensuing days Nick spent much time with Dede and also Francois when he was not consulting, playing at lumberjacks with the large Beech tree that was felled in a field on the road to Valognes.  The tree is even larger than that which the guys felled last year and will yield rather more cords.  A cord is approximately 2.5 cubic metres but his depends on the size of the logs and the amount of air spaces in the stack.  We estimate we may have about 10 cords to share between participants.  At the end of our stay and once all the wood is logged and stacked we have a bit of a BBQ on the bonfire of brushwood that remains to be burned.

Meanwhile I worked on the final edits of three chapters I am contributing to a book on molluscs in archaeology.  One of the chapters has been particularly tricky and has necessitated the redrafting and relabelling of some line drawings which help to standardise the measurements that archaeologists should take when analysing shell assemblages for environmental assessments and reporting.  In the end I decided the easiest thing was to go to the shore to collect a few limpets so that I could send images to Mike, my editor, for the avoidance of doubt.  It would not pay for a self-respecting archaeomalacologist to get her limpets arse about face!

 

 

I did lots of cinema trips with Anne, also with Francoise and Fefe.  On one fine day I walked a stretch of the coast between Bibi’s home just outside Montfarville and Gatteville-Phare.  A good 10 clicks.  We chatted pretty much the whole way.  Bibi’s Jack Russell, ‘Chispa’ was a cute and biddable companion.  IMG_5518 (2)

On the first Saturday in March Nick and I threw a dinner party.  I got my knickers in somewhat of a twist deciding what to do and in the end I made a Pot au Feu with a Bourgignon twist.  Francois recognised this and complimented me.

Our wonderful month in France is drawing to a close.  We take Francois and Fefe to the Fuchsias for lunch – an extravagance they do not allow themselves although, also, they are part of that community in St Vaast who see Hotel Les Fuchsias as a mecca for the English.  To complete our cycle of entertaining we receive Jean-Pierre and Tanou on the Sunday before we cross La Manche.  They arrive at 6, we play Barbu and we eat something simple.  Hooray for Fish Pie.

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