Road trip with dog

Not quite the same vibe as road trip with my R.Trip compatriot in the shape of Ezra, our son, but nevertheless a good experience.

I did miss the 'hey, look an old abandoned factory, must explore' element as dog's idea of a road trip is to smell much wee, historic and fresh, eat the pre-packed 'teatime' and to accompany myself as I wander aimlessly taking photos and sketching; I could almost hear the sigh - oh, come on . . . there so much more close up stuff to sniff, forget landscape, and architecture - boring . . .

Our logement for the two nights was an ancient vintage caravan in a small wood; dating from about 1970 it was cosy and full of laminate wood, hallucinogenic flowery wallpaper and a comfy bed which the dog decided she would inhabit, leaving me a small section of it at night - actually I slept incredibly well, waking to the sound of rain on roof and chorusing birdsong. What joy, tea, rain pattering, a good book and slumbering dog.

The two days were spent revisiting a couple of towns that Ezra had lived/worked in when he had been doing leather work - or rather helping make ridiculous tiny and hugely expensive bags for Maison Goyard in Paris; and a lot of road trip/on foot wandering to explore new places such as Too (!), Montoire, a Plus Beaux village or two and the deep and woody stretches of Le Foret de Bercé.

The weather was kind to us, and to add to the R. T experience we came across the sort of French restaurant which seem to be a rarity now, a 'relais' offering hearty food and run by a super organised family team catering for everyone from locals to bikers, walkers and lorry drivers. The dog didn't partake as she'd had 'teatime' and was happy to bask in the sun on the back seat and dream of woodland rabbits. I opened for the menu (not with the included wine unlike all the lorry drivers and work persons) and I could have made do with the huge starter of goat cheese and tomato pie. The following course of chicken, sausage stew with peppers was delicious but I actually gave them the included sides back as I never could have eaten them too, and I had to leave a tiny space for the 'Isle Flottant' - the best I can remember eating.

                                                                       Isle Flottant

The following day was rainy and dark. I packed up our stuff and meandered cross country stopping between showers to let the dog continue her research, and to stop for a couple of hot chocolates in order to sketch the interiors of cafés that time forgot.

Many years back I started a Loo Diary - these small rooms where one is alone (normally) for a little while, contemplating the weirdness or ordinariness of the four walls. The diary petered out but I might start it again with the blue nightmarish David Lynch loo (above) which had really not been touched since about 1972. In fact the patron must have been the original owner from that epoch as I noted the ancient sign stating Bar de Marius, and heard a client saying 'Salut Marius as they arrived and proceeded to order a chilled rosé at 10 in the morning.

                                                              Café sketch for a later painting

Almost a year

  . . . and the ever changing bit of land that is our garden.

When I first saw our house in February 2025 I thought 'Hm weird titchy garden' but actually its a brilliant space - small enough to be able to make a big impression on, and big enough to experiment with all sorts of plants - and ponds! From a lifeless bit of lawn and one central bush we now have two ponds: one I put in last summer and a new big one, dug and managed by our super pond nerd friend who has spent a few days helping us wild-up the garden.

Fun trip to a gravel merchants to get natural Loire gravel and rocks (6 euros for a boot full as opposed to a small bag of plastic-wrapped gravel from a garden centre for 15 euros . . .) pond bought (biggish investment) massive hole dug, rocks, logs and found plants dug in, and a sweet flowering cherry added, which bees are already visiting, and the whole plot is beginning to look very welcoming for insects, birds and amphibians. 

Next stop, trying to find a bit of frog spawn and or a few newt eggs as we want this pond to be a natural habitat and not an overflow for the goldfish in smaller pond - some will soon need re-homing as its getting crowded in there.

Thanks Jan for your super pond powers.

March last year

pond nerd in action

March 26

Unexpected things in a familiar environment

I thought I'd 'flanned' (flaneur - one who wanders without particular plan or map, if you don't know the term), all our local roads and areas, but while waiting for the dump to open (life of excitement) I took the dog for a wander and found all sorts of small marvels such as a perfect bit of graffiti, 'this here is not a Banksy', and this blocked up garage door which was constructed with a level of bodge that even I could not have achieved.

Being gripped

In my case by a want to create more art, and writing - a good thing! I think it's been a fallow period while I was concentrating on trying to get our B and B operational. It's almost there, and since we are having biblical amounts of rain currently, I can't venture out to try and redo (bodge) the window frames and shutters that our future guests will be sitting next to - when we've done the terrace area . . . another job. So, apart from dog duty, in tray garbage sorting, house work and all the usual life stuff I have found more time to write and paint.

With an exhibition booked in August - a good continual prod forward, and a desire to complete my third-in-the-series of Londonia so I can get it out to any potential agents/film people I'm busy, and yes, gripped!

Here's an outline sketch of my latest painting  - canvass courtesy of our local recycling emporium for two euros - a rather more apocalyptic work, but with positivity included . . .

The Tea Time Sessions present

 

St Louis Blues, recorded live at the TTS studio/front room

Life of inanimate objects

From the left

'Whoaaaa.'

'You all right?'

'Just ignore him - far too many bottles last night.'

'I know, disgraceful! I mean just look at these two next to me!'

'Hahahahahah - that bit when your wheel fell off . . . hahahah.'

'And then you crushed that bike . . . hahahahahah.'

While I was slumbering

 . . . A good night's sleep - how divine. Something I seem to be getting better at lately, and long may it last, whereas my other 'arf tends to get up at around 4am! and wanders like a gangly ghost around the kitchen in his pyjamas. However, the wandering is, luckily, highly productive. Yesterday, woken by the scent of baking bread, I slipped from the bed and went downstairs to find Sir had made bread and rolls, yogurt, Kiefer and had prepared lentils to soak, while intermittently playing the cello.

I think Mark must have been a baker in some other life, possibly in the Middle Ages as from what I've read, getting up in the middle of the night to do household chores was quite common before returning to attempt to sleep again amongst the various other family members and uninvited insect populations. This he still has to re-master - the re-sleeping bit, at least we don't have the insect population, or not that I'm aware of . . .