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

Moving on...

Not as in the game show title I gave to a rather vile and scary TV series in my follow-up to Londonia . . . but us, moving on, to a new abode. Or rather an old 1968 breeze block built abode as opposed to our current large and elegant 1830s house.

A couple of reasons: achey stuff that is not really going away - our doc looked at me with a raised eyebrow and said: 'the cure for hip and back tendonitis . . . stop doing the things that cause the problem - i.e lots of heavy gardening, wood shifting, hefty housework. You're not thirty anymore, or even forty, or . .  OK, I said, I get it.

                                                               A section of the garden

                                                                          The wood

Also, it's time for a town stint. Mark needs to be near other musicians, and to be able to give music lessons as our earning potential as artists is pretty useless, to say the least. 

It wasn't an easy idea to take on board at the outset. All the work we've done here, the magnificent garden, the privilege of living in a beautiful old house with all its history. Mark was not keen, mainly as uprooting all our stuff again was indeed an unpleasant idea, exhausting, just the idea of it! But thanks to a rather crazy 1970s house I had pinpointed on the main island of Saumur, he began to imagine life in the town. We visited the house a few times and put in an offer but due to the long standing feud between the inheritors of said house, none of them were speaking to each other. The weeks turned into a few months and still one of them refused to accept the offer, so we started house hunting again. 

Meanwhile our house had had an offer and we had gladly accepted, mainly as the lovely buyers have the same vision as us - preserve the garden as a haven for wildlife as it has been for the last forty five years - thanks in great part to our wonderful previous house occupant who had planted most of the trees, bushes and flower gardens. You have to accept when selling a property that your potential buyers may have very different ideas to you, and our hearts had sunk a few times as folk had talked of selling off the wood (madness! absolute insanity when the wood provides all the house's heating!) or had talked of ripping things out in order to install a pool, etc... We are supremely happy to know that the house's next dwellers will love the house, and continue to add life to these incredible gardens.

                                                      One of my favourite garden views

So, the next project . . . very different. No wood (sob) but a reasonable space for creaky people to carry on the nature welcoming idea - a bird refuge, pond to be added, trees to be planted, vines and wisteria to be grown for shade, and vegetables to be grown on the weird long strip of fertile-looking garden behind the house. The agent had described the property as atypical, and I had said, that's ok, we are too. And it is - a very odd layout but the main interest being the large salon. I had been searching for a house with such a room so we can finally install our inherited grand piano (thank you dear Rosemary) and even do house concerts, music lectures etc. Another reason that the house 'spoke' to us three is that there is a view of the railway line from Thoars, through Saumur and on to Chateau du Loire. This will be the third house we have lived in which features a railway line as part of its soundscape, something we love! 

Large salon with deer's head - previous occupant was a keen hunter

The location is interesting; on a road where there were once thirty windmills, now, four, non-functioning, and an enjoyable amble into town via the Saumur Chateau into the main square for the weekly market and joy! cafés etc. Life will be more on foot, and the dog walks surrounding the house are new and inspiring. 

So, time to amass boxes, purge stuff - had a good go already - a car boot load of ? to Emmaus, and much more to go . . . why do we keep all this stuff? I'll try hard this time to not let the clutter encroach.

Pondlife

 After Blur's 1994 track, Parklife. 

Ponds could be the new therapy; certainly works for me... Overcome by the enormity of the world's problems? Build a pond, even a titchy one. There's something reassuring and meaningful about taking a dull bit of lawn, digging a hole and inserting an overlooked sink/water trough/washing up bowl, introducing water, a few plants, stones etc and watching a whole new, small scale, and without vast problems, world unfold before you. 

Our local organic veg producing friend gave us a large round plastic tub which had been destined to be part of a reed bed idea, now rather put to one side. When our own reed bed was installed I asked the man wielding the small yellow digger if he could make an extra hole, which he did. I filled in the drainage hole with silicone, let it dry and we filled the pond from the river via many hosepipes joined together.

For about three days it looked like a disappointing muddy mistake then the water started to clear due to the oxygenating plants Mark had bought, including an extraordinary floating nomadic 'water lettuce' plant that trails its roots and requires no permanent fixture. The first visitors to our watering hole were about 4,000 mosquito larvae - eek! . . . I scooped a few hundred out then gave up - something would surely snack on these? 

On our favourite forest/lake walk we stole three baby frogs, and later from a river, a few minnows. They seem to have happily taken up residence and the mosquito population has vastly reduced. The latest arrivals are a huge water beetle and many small ones, various snails, a family of pond skaters and several dragon fly larvae. I can happily spend several minutes just staring into the now-clear depths of the tub, delighted at the glimpse of a fish or a new addition to this small universe. Watching from our back window in the house gives also glimpses of the bird and animal life that have started to view the pond as a good garden addition. 

We have now installed an old kitchen sink and will be adding a bath I got from the local recycling emporium. A biodiversity corridor, I heard it called on one wild gardening channel. And . . . if one day I get a film deal, win the loto, whatever, we'll add a natural swimming pool . . . pond is fine for now.