Jen Black's Blog, page 15

Lalinde

 

24thApril

The weather has turned ugly. Constant rain and no chance to get anything dry. One good thing is that the lonely dog on the hill has stopped howling, for which I am glad.

25thApril   The "Bastide" towns of southwest France are a remnant of the medieval townscapes six centuries ago. The layout has remained virtually unchanged and many of today's buildings have walls that date back to sometime between 1200 -1400.

The kings of England in those days were  French speaking Angevins, one of the four great French dynasties. They brought the population together in centres called bastides which could be more easily controlled and defended.

Lalinde was the first 'English' Bastide town, built by Henry III (the grandson of Eleanor of Aquitaine) and the Château de Lalinde was built by him in 1267. The foundations and cellars/dungeons still exist from this time.

It is one of our favourite places and  we sat and had coffee in

the wonderful sunshine. Perla watched everyone with great interest  and then walked with us around our favourite spots. The river, the great Dordogne, was in flood right against the walls of the chateau. No swans or sandbanks in sight, just a rolling brown swell of water rolling down to the sea.

I discovered  New Aquitaine courtesy of a wall decoration. I had heard of Aquitaine, who has not? After all, when Henry II married Eleanor the region belonged to England.  It was  vast  then, but now covers an eighth of the country of France and came into being on 1stJanuary 2016,. The new region merges the old regions of Poitou, Charente, Limousin and Aquitaine. It covers 450 miles of the Atlantic coastline and stretches from Poitou to the Pyrénees.

Plaques informing the discerning tourist of the history of certain buildings such as the Governor's House and an old auberge called Le p'it Loup were new to me. I took pictures, so I could read the info at leisure. I am consumed with curiosity about the name the Little Wolf. If anyone knows the story, do tell!

Lake adventure

 

Perla is still not speaking to Sam the lovely chocolate Labrador. In fact she shows her teeth, growls and tells him to stay away in forceful fashion. She is difficult to settle. She wants to be on the bed, the chairs, tried to settle on the tarp that covers the swimming pool, and wanders disconsolately around. Then she ate some of Sam’s biscuits. Poor Sam. He doesn’t deserve this nasty lady and is still trying to be nice to her.

Given that she only came to us on 16th February she has hardly had a chance to settle before we’ve whisked her away to a new environment. There is little wonder she is unsettled.

Monday 18th April

Until yesterday evening, when everything clouded over and the wind turned cold, we’ve had glorious sunny weather and made a start on the gardening. Not sure that “gardening” is is absolutely the right term, but it describes things like weeding, cutting the grass and hacking out brambles. Imagine all of those on an industrial scale!

The tractor trundled out of its two-year enforced lie-up with a splutter and a hiccup, then roared off and tackled the meadows around the house. I pulled out weeds from the cracks in the lower patio and then turned my attention to the brambles – so huge they grow right over the top of the hazel trees and bend them into poor hunched things struggling to grow. Four days on and we still have hundreds of the wretched things to clear.

Yesterday’s adventure involved the lake and Perla. She has discovered there are, or have been, crayfish in the lake. Some creature catches and eats them on the bank, discarding the head and claws. We suspect a coypu but cannot be sure of the culprit and there are some pretty huge frogs around. For some reason, Perla finds these discards tasty, scoffs them down and then goes hunting more. This time she went too far down the bank and either jumped or slid into the water. In she went, head first, and under the surface, then emerged spluttering and thankfully started swimming. Unhappily she headed out into the centre of the lake. Desperately shouting her name, even though I know she is deaf and doesn’t hear me, I waved my arms and thankfully she turned for the shore, swam for twenty yards and then got her back paws on the bottom of the lake.

She trundled out a very sad and sorry girl. We hurried back to the house where I dried her off and huddled her in blankets.  Her teeth chattered so much I squeezed into the basket and hugged her tight. I think she was shocked as much as cold and wet, poor thing.

She woke up this morning seemingly none the worse for her adventure and as I write this she is beside me on the chaise longue on the lower patio, soaking up the sun which has just poked out from behind a cloud. I sit here surveying a scene of utter tranquillity with the leaves on the trees unfurling almost as I write. In the distance a tractor works the fields, but it is far enough away not to be a disturbance.

Somewhere out on the hillside behind me, a lonely dog howls. And howls. It is upsetting. Fortunately, Perla cannot hear it.

Like kids going on holiday we were awake at 5.30am and o...

 Like kids going on holiday we were awake at 5.30am and on our way by 6.30.  

The journey was uneventful but tedious because of road works but we arrived at Hatfield Forest in good time to give Perla a chance to pee or pooh or whatever she wanted. We ate a sandwich and walked a mile or so with her, and admired the ancient trees - evidently it is the best preserved royal hunting forest on the planet with over 1,000 acres of coppice and wood pasture. Henry I made it a royal hunting park but its history goes back much further. There is a herd of fallow deer somewhere in there but although we see the cows, and avoid their splashy droppings, we've never seen the deer. The forest came into the National Trust in 1924 and those ancient trees are well worth a visit. Lucky are they who walk their dogs there every day!

             The M25 was as it usually is - busy.  We were advised Junctions 8-11 of the M20 were closed and that we should follow deviations. So we did, and as DH put it, we saw a lot more of Kent than we had ever seen before. I think the lorries were stacked between the closed junctions, and seemed to be moving in relays – probably a Tunnel trainload at a time. We finally arrived at the Tunnel and got straight through to a train an hour earlier than we had booked. So we had time for a coffee and then on our way.

We took Perla to the park in Abbeville and then had dinner in the Ibis, with Perla beside us and enjoying an occasional piece of pasta from my Carbonara. Room 33 is my favourite, not only because it has a sort of Tardis bathroom in an egg shaped plastic bubble, but because it is located on a downstairs corner far away from reception, and with much less disturbance from those going to sleep much later than we did. 

We slept well, and admired the renovation that has been undertaken while the hotel suffered a forced closure due to the pandemic. The old hotel next door has vanished, and the grounds have been opened up and cleared. It always was a pleasant and convenient place to stay with crisp white sheets and duvets and it has improved during our absence.

Wednesday 13th we set off about 8am and trundled south through mist and banks of fog. Fog, in France! Unheard of! I’ve never been in April before and the trees are just budding, the verges are filled with cowslips and primroses – those lovely flowers we seem to have lost in England.

We scampered through Rouen but took a road we didn’t really want out of the city and then deviated all over the place – Evereux, Orleans, Blois, Tours, Limoges and then Angouleme, Brantome,  Perigeaux and south to the mill by about 5.30pm. A long two day’s driving for Bill since he won't let me drive any more after I fell asleep whist driving the yellow Honda. Michael Mosley has a word for it, but I can't remember what it was. The brain trying to catch up on lost sleep. 

Getting ready to travel

 

There is a rumour that there may be no internet facility when we get to the mill this year as there is a telephone system change-over happening. I will not know until I get there. If the rumour  turns out to be true, then all I can do is keep a brief diary and load it here when I return.

Looking on the bright side, it means DH and I will have time to talk to each other!

And since we are there to work after the mill has been unattended and unloved for the whole of the Covid restrictions, I imagine we shall work all day and fall into bed and sleep very well indeed.

The younger generation in the family say “Find a McDonalds and use their wifi” as if there is a big Mac around every corner in France.  I suspect the nearest is Bergerac, a good 25 miles from us.

So today is packing day ready for an early start in the morning. Wish us luck in getting to the tunnel on time.

First bath

 The dog groomer was awake and ready for us when we arrived at the unearthly hour of 7.45am. We had  done a swift recce of the field so Perla could have a pee, and I left her accepting welcome strokes from Robyn. 

Twenty five minutes later I went back to collect a sweet-smelling dog.

Robyn's report? "She loved it, was no trouble, loved her biscuits, and liked the dog basket." Perla was waiting in the basket - watching the gate where I vanished and then re-appeared. 

So that is one more hurdle overcome without disaster. Perla is now resting indoors, cuddled in the blanket I knitted for her, until she is completely dry. (It is damp, cold and wet outside - not the weather to romp around in when you've just been in the bath!) 

Later today I shall seek a new collar for her because the tracker we have bought does not fit very well on any of the four dog collars we already have. DH says I should get her a pink one because she is a lady. 

The tracker will help keep track  (sorry!) of her when we get to the mill in France, because there are so many rooms, exits, and places where she might not be visible to us even though she would be within thirty feet of one or the other of us. If she could only hear when we call her we would not worry, and though she shows signs of having some rudimentary hearing, we have to treat her a totally deaf and make adjustments to ensure her safety. 

Yesterday she came back to me 3 times when I "called" her in sign language and two of those were in the big park field, rather than in the dog enclosure. Delighted that she seems happy to come back to me - or the chicken twists I offer as a treat!

Mud and Puddles

 Our rescue dog Perla is turning into a bit of a diva.

As mealtimes approach, she now *demands* her food. When I try to hold to the set times, she barks at me! The same happens for walks. If she thinks I'm a bit tardy on getting up and out, she stands in front of me and barks. 

Who would have believed it? In five weeks she has turned from a shy, timid dog into one that is quite willing to assert herself. Of course, we stop her from barking. (Or we try to - but yes, on the whole she gives in to us.)

The weather turned rather suddenly, as you will all have noticed, over the last few days. We have had freezing temperatures, snow, hail, rain and wind -  none of which lasted or stayed very long, but which turned the ground wet and muddy on a lot of our walks. 

It amuses me me to notice that instead of ploughing through all the mud and puddles, as Tim would have done, Perla edges as far away from the mud as she can. She usually comes home with clean feet. A ladylike trait! Coupled with the fact that she doesn't shed hair all day long as dallies do, our Perla is far less work in the house and I heartily approve!

We are leaving!

Early morning in France Sunshine all week since 21st March. 

Hard to believe of mid-March!

I began weeding the first fine day and now I am continuing because we have made the happy discovery that since Perla has a Spanish passport she is free to travel anywhere in the EU. This is one of the unexpected perks of taking on a rescue dog from Save a Spanish Spot. 

All her medications and shots are listed for the last ten years, and her rabies shot is up to date and valid until October 22nd this year. We have been advised to get the rabies shot updated while we are in France, as that means her passport remains valid and she can keep travelling. It will cost less in France than it would in England. Perla has been Drontalled today and I am going to book her a bath (a proper one with a groomer!) a day or two before we set off. It will be nice to have a sweet smelling dog in the car with us for two days. It is a 16 hour journey door to door and we do it with one overnight stop in Abbeville where the Ibis accepts dogs - even in the restaurant.

We plan to leave for France mid April and will return when we feel we want to. So now I am vindicated in having done all that weeding. I shall continue with the rest of the garden so that when we do return, the place will not be overgrown. It might not be warm enough for swimming in April, but if the weather in France has been anything like England, then it may be warmer than we expect!

Going to get used to it again

 Back breaking days in the garden are here again.

Not that I do anything more strenuous than weeding. you understand. Its the stretching that does it. The muscles have hibernated all winter and now I want them to stretch in all sorts of odd positions and they don't like it. Too bad, muscles. You are going to have to get used to it again.

Three days of brilliant sunshine had us contemplating sitting out on the patio for dinner this evening, but then common sense prevailed. The sun may be exceptionally warm for Mid March but after four o'clock everything cools down very quickly. We had frost this morning and the temperature was forecast to drop to -1 overnight. Summer is not actually here yet, however much it feels like it at mid day.

Publication Day

 The Elsdon Affair hits the market today in ebook format.

When a handsome stranger knocks her off her feet, Rose Brewster is dazzled and curious…handsome flirt Archie has already stolen her eldest cousin's heart along with jewellery from their neighbours, and he has an uncanny knack of disappearing…can such a man be trusted?

When her parents threaten marriage to an elderly peer, Rose’s fine principles vanish like smoke in the wind across the moors of Northumberland…she may have found herself a young husband.

Harry Stewart visits his cousins and shocks Rose with his likeness to Archie… dazzled by them both she finds Harry has secrets of his own and knows that a lifetime of happiness and passion awaits a good decision. Do nothing and disaster awaits with the wrong partner and the risks are unthinkable. How will she decide?

The Elsdon Affair UK : https://tinyurl.com/2p8dfu36

US: https://tinyurl.com/3kyys7fs

If you love Regency Romances, then this is for you!

Involving a deer leg

 It is a fine, bright day and I am going to take Perla to the exercise park where she can be off-lead but safely enclosed.

I always knew Tim would never run away from me - not unless we were in France and a deer leg was involved, and even then he would dodge by me and run home to the mill with it in his mouth absolutely delighted with his prize.

 Occasionally he found a deer leg here at home on one of our walks, but I managed to get it off him before he ran. Poachers don't clear up after themselves but leave the bits they and their dogs don't want lying in the fields to make gruesome finds for dog walkers.

But with Perla I am not sure. We are heading toward three weeks together (tomorrow) and if she gets a good strong scent of anything I am scared she will take off after it. There are so many woods, fields and main roads around here that she could be lost within seconds. So I shall test her recall in an enclosed place and see how well she responds.

It is approaching crunch point with the new book too. Publication day is Wednesday 16th March, and I have to upload the final, final version to Kindle by midnight on Saturday 12th. It is on pre-order now ~

https://tinyurl.com/yw5p4vzh so click on the link and order it now!

"When a handsome stranger knocks her off her feet, Rose Brewster is dazzled and curious…handsome flirt Archie has already stolen her eldest cousin's heart along with jewellery from their neighbours, and he has an uncanny knack of disappearing…can such a man be trusted?

When her parents threaten marriage to an elderly peer, Rose’s fine principles vanish like smoke in the wind across the moors of Northumberland…she may have found herself a young husband.

Harry Stewart visits his cousins and shocks Rose with his likeness to Archie … dazzled by them both she finds Harry has secrets of his own and knows that a lifetime of happiness and passion awaits a good decision. Do nothing and disaster awaits with the wrong partner and the risks are unthinkable. How will she decide?"