September

September. One foot in summer, one in autumn. I like it. 

I always feel that change is coming at this time of year, I just can't shake that back to school, new pencil case feeling of anticipation that arrives around now. It's my New Year. I'm much more inclined to embark on something new in September than I ever am after Christmas. This week has been strange, as though things are shifting and settling around here. We went straight from the glow of post-holiday happiness into cooler weather, washing (so much washing!) and the chores and jobs that accompany the return to school. Name labels were sew on, PE bags completed and packed, lists checked. Bella started Year 2 yesterday and appears to be loving it so far. She described her first day as "quite fun". She took to school easily from day one and enjoys the environment and her friends there. Angus's first day is tomorrow and I'm not sure what to expect. He has been unsettled and grumpy today - I think he is feeling the change as much as we are. He will be one of the younger ones in his class and I can't help feeling that he's too young for school. My baby. I hope he doesn't cry when we drop him off tomorrow morning. I hope I don't cry in front of him.

And things are also odd - but in a nice way - because John is around all the time and I am so used to having the house to myself during the day. So far, I quite like Redundancy John. He mows the lawn, cooks tea and replaces the tile on the kitchen floor that's been chipped for months. He makes tea loaf and washes the car. He is very useful. But job hunting starts with a vengeance tomorrow. We don't have an office in our house and have found that trying to do anything requiring any real concentration on the laptop at the dining room table while the kids are around is impossible. There will be no distractions (or excuses) tomorrow.

The garden is also shifting and changing. The leaves look dry and the colour is slowly leaving petals and leaves. I quite like the garden around now. It's past it's best, but it served us well all through the summer and I am more relaxed with it. No need to bother about weeding much. No need to fret about how well things are growing, as the party is over. In another month I'll be giving it an autumn tidy up. Putting it to bed for the winter. Not just yet though, there is still colour out there and I picked a small posy this afternoon while Angus as I were outside. The weather has been gorgeous today, warm and sunny and breezy. Good laundry weather. Our sunflowers are starting to fade so I will pick the good ones soon then cut back the rest. The raspberries that just appear, every summer, and yield a couple of bowlfuls of fruit at best, are doing really well. I've no idea why they are flourishing but I love going out there and picking a handful then eating them with yogurt on my granola for breakfast. The tomatoes appear to be doing well. People who know about gardening - will they turn much more red or should I pick them soon? We have a few red ones but mostly green. To be honest, I don't mind if they stubbornly refuse to ripen as I love green tomato chutney.

And while I'm feeling retrospective, here a a few of August's Instagrams. My favourite is the yarb-bombed exericise bike I saw outside a really hippy cafe in Angouleme.

En Vacances..out and about

Roughly translates to "in the style of the housewife, or "housewife style". I'd love to know what it once sold.

I love the markets in France. They offer a choice and quality that you just don't see here unless you visit a farmer's market. Towns and villages, big and small, have a market on one designated morning each week. Roads are closed and the place is packed and bustling with people holding large shopping baskets. The ones we visited tended to fall into two types - they catered for locals, or for tourists. The photos above are from a morning in Barbezieux in what was very much a market for locals. Absolutely no English spoken, lots of French voices all around you. The stalls offered everyday essentials like bread (of course), fruit and vegetables, cheese, fish, and the most wonderful haberdashery stall I have ever seen, consisting of three huge tables groaning under the weight of buttons, zips and cotton thread. 

And then there was the equally delightful but very touristy market in Riberac. A huge, colourful, bustling affair, with as many English voices around you as French. It still sold the same everyday things but in a more packaged, souvenir-y way. Honey, soaps, lavender plants, hats.

We visited a beautiful town called Aubeterre-Sur-Dronne which had French charm and views of the countryside in abundance, as well as an impressive (and pretty creepy) church that was built directly into the cliff face. I'm really not a fan of spiral staircases, especially the narrow, sloping, uneven sort you find in ancient buildings - I imagine the walls closing in on me, or that I'll trip and keep falling and never be able to stop. I'm not normally a claustrophobic person but spiral staircases give me the heebie-jeebies. It was a relief to step back into the bright sunlight.

There was a wonderful sandy beach on the river Dronne, just below Aubeterre, and we spent a happy afternoon there. 

Children just love paddling.

 We had some lovely walks alongside lakes and rivers, seeking the shade where we could.

We were dazzled by a town called Brantome, in the Dordogne. It is nicknamed the "Venice of France" and it's full of canals, bridges, cobbled streets and beautifully kept buildings. Hanging baskets and lovingly maintained flower are displays everywhere you look.

And I saved the best till last. Remember that bike ride I mentioned last week? This is your reward if you made it this far.

Too many? Sorry. That was after I edited them!

To answer your questions - yes, we drove. We took the car ferry from Portsmouth to Caen then drove down to the house, which took about six hours. We found the driving fine, once you get used to being on the right hand side. The French toll motorways are generally smooth with little traffic and we spent about €30 each way on toll charges. Where we stayed was quiet so we never really encountered much serious traffic. Diesel is much cheaper in France which is nice (We paid €1.28 or £1.09 per litre at the French supermarket pumps. We usually pay around £1.39 per litre here). Things did feel expensive, but then I think that the UK has felt expensive for the last few years, as the price of everything slowly rises but salaries don't. Supermarket shopping trips and coffees seemed about the same as here. Eating out is more expensive perhaps, but if you avoid touristy areas it's certainly cheaper. We actually came home with leftover euros which is very nice, and very unexpected! (They will be changed back into pounds and go in the pot marked "Christmas".) Wine is cheaper, so long as you buy French.

One last thing - THANK YOU for all your comments. I feel bad that I just haven't had time to pop by your blogs and say hello yet but, as the fabulous Miranda would say - bare with...bare with...I thank you.

En Vacances...at home.

Hello! We are home, surrounded by washing, piles of post, overflowing in-boxes and general untidiness. It's cold, grey and windy here and quite autumnal. It feels as though these photos were taken much longer than a few days ago. I hope you don't mind me sharing a few pictures of our break. It helps me continue that holiday feeling for just a few more days...

We stayed in the Charente region of France, near a town called Barbezieux-Saint-Hilaire. It's wine country, with fields filled with vines, sunflowers or maize. Our home was a charming old farm house with two converted barns. The owners live in one building and have their own pool and the other two buildings and second pool are for guests. Think low doorways, creaking floorboards and huge inglenook fireplaces. It was more space than we possibly needed - we had reception rooms that were never used - but the kids had a huge amount of fun riding their scooters up and down the metres of tiled floor. 

We settled into a routine of going out first thing after breakfast and spending the morning browsing local markets or going for walks or paddling in the lake, then coming home for lunch and an afternoon by the pool. Lunches were long and indulgent - as they should be on holiday - and often went on until three pm.

The children - Bella and Angus, and their cousins Alicia (5), Jennifer (5), Jeremy (4) and Eleanor (3) - were in and out of the pool constantly. It was exhausting for the first few days but once they realised the pool would still be there the next day they relaxed more, and so did we. We bought these brilliant floats (the kids call them "noodles") which they tuck under each arm while they swim.

Barbie swam too. 

When the pool was too much for the little ones there was the trampoline...

...or swing. Exhausting.

Skies were fabulously blue. I never tire of a sky like this, it lifts my spirits every time.

There were plenty of sun loungers, even if there wasn't as much time to laze on one as you would like.

I bought this basket in a market on the first day we arrived and it became my pool bag, containing essentials like sweets, magazines and crochet.

Sometimes there was Pimms.

The evening was always my favourite time of day. I loved being out by the pool when it was still and quiet.

The sun was still very hot but the light was softer and so pretty.

All the swim suits would be hung up, dripping in the late sun.

We'd give the kids their tea earlier, around five or six, then bath them and put them to bed (although they were usually wide awake for another hour at least, thanks to the sunny evenings and lack of blackout blinds or curtains in their rooms) then us grown ups would congregate in the kitchen, open bottles of wine and start preparing some food. We took it in turns to cook and ate late, staying at the table until long into the evening. We ate well.

I love this photo.

 We'd stay outside for as long we we could, braving the mosquitos.

And admiring the truly spectacular sunsets.

I have a thing about sunsets. When I see one I feel like I really need to take a photo of it. Does anyone else do that? I'm just captivated by them. Where we live in Leeds is very built up and hilly and you can never really see the sun setting from our house or garden. By the time the sun is low enough to be really colourful, it's long since sunk from view. But here, in France, the open landscape of fields made for the most incredible free open air cinema. 

Thank you for indulging me. Tomorrow's post - out and about.