This is not a lounging holiday

 

11^th September

More gunshots this morning. A hunter parked at the end of the lane, and I didn’t want to take Perla out while he was firing over the fields. The owners of the mill tell stories of hunters shooting each other more than the game they are chasing, which sounds both reassuring, thinking of the wildlife, and a little worrying when considering our own safety. We know the man who, with the help of his dog, tracks down the animals they do injure but don’t kill. He makes sure they do not suffer.

We’re starting on the roundup of “last tasks” – shaking out beds, cushions, sofas, sweeping floors, dusting, last minute washing of socks and knickers to get us home feeling clean. Dh has trundled the BBQ down to the Earth Room, (which I am told has now been renamed the West Room) and is currently out on the tractor cutting the grass. I am still dead-heading lavender. Tomorrow the Great Packing Adventure begins.

The heat has been so intense these three weeks with all but two days in the high thirties that working after 11.30 was impossible, so there are some things we did not get done that we would have liked to do. Our holidays here are not the lounge around the pool kind. Dh sanded and revarnished or Danish-oiled the fence around the pool and the balcony fence. I pruned the garden that skirts the pool (and got well and truly bitten doing it!) and we both hacked away at the vegetation so there is a wider view of the field from the bolly. The pictures are a Before and After record. We wanted to trim the laurels at the back of the mill, take some of the ivy off the trees and tidy the creeper in the east patio, but it wasn't to be. 

Walnuts, anyone?

 

5^th September

Thunderstorms at 11.20pm last night. Almost continuous sheet lightning that lit up the entire mill, front, back and sides at the same time. Thunder but no rain, or so little rain that we did not hear it. Perla being totally deaf is lucky in these situations as she slept right through. Tim would have been bouncing around – totally alert, half afraid and half aggressive.

Dh drove into Vergt and did a shop that is supposed to last until we leave for home. Sometimes we get it right, sometimes we don’t, but it is not a worry as we have to go into Vergt on Monday to see Monsieur le docteur le vétérinaire to get Perla’s worming tablet and her Animal Health Certificate signed off. Then we have a few hours to get to Calais and through the tunnel back into England. (Out of interest for anyone thinking of taking their dog to France, we were charged £65.) Considering the £225 in England for the AHC before we went, and £65 in France, it is an expensive option – thanks to Brexit! Bah humbug.

The mornings are noticeably colder now, and likewise the evenings. A good time to get work done – it was far too hot when the temperature was in the high thirties, but low twenties is ideal. The nasty little biting creatures seem to be gorging on us as if to fatten up for the winter. I don’t see them, but I have several nasty bites, and they have attacked Perla’s paws as well. The pool is not quite so inviting now, and the leaves are turning yellow gold. I sweep the fallen ones from the bolly every morning. Sadly, the walnuts are not falling yet, but they are growing.

The very first Sunday of September and a hunter was out with his dogs, shooting at goodness knows what. Possibly deer, rabbits or boar, none of which we have seen, though we have seen signs that tell us they are around. It must be a struggle for them to find water, for the stream that runs through the mill land is still just a trickle and seepage. The spring that feeds the pound, however, runs as it ever did, so they will always find water here.