Between raindrops

Climate change is effecting the narrative on our little planet. Monster storms, odd-ball inversions; wherever you are, weather seems to be big news. This wasn't the case when I was young. Those were the days when you could predict the weather based on the date, and never be very far wrong. Not so now. Spring here has been very unsettled and the birds, plants and I are all a bit confused.

While in Moscow people are apparently turning on their air conditioners, over here the heat has gone back on and we're searching around for left over sticks of wood to build another fire. Significant downpours have kept me inside. Looking out from my studio window, it seems as if everything wants to bloom.

If I see a shaft of sunlight, I throw down whatever I'm working on and rush outside. Ah, for the glory of the sun on your cheek!

Our terrace garden is in form this year, despite the off and on weather. My favorite clematis has been blooming extravagantly for a couple of weeks and shows no sign of slowing down. The jasmine that shares the trellis will bloom later.

Even the yellow rose that climbs up the front of the house is covered in buds and is beginning to present itself.

I am really enjoying the terrace this year as everything has nicely filled in. I wanted to show you the full view, how it looks from our front gate, so I used Photoshop to put several separate photos into one panorama. It did a half-decent job,. Except for the distortion in the middle, this gives a fairly accurate representation. Be sure to click on the photo for a larger view.

Irises, temporary as they are, are among my favorite flowers. Outside my workshop this year is a lovely profusion of classic dark purple ones.

Lilacs are in their glory all over the village.

Our garden is in early spring mode; so much in bloom and yet so much left to emerge. The dahlias have not even poked the smallest leaf out as yet and the annuals - sweet peas, sunflowers and nasturtiums are barely starting. We haven't dared to put out our tomatoes yet. It's still just too inclement.

The wall around the far side of the garden is the ancient defensive rampart of the village and is quite thick, perhaps 8 feet. On top grow trees, shrubs, vines and these iris. All volunteers.

 

Our project this summer is to build a deck. For the moment it is a huge patch of weeds just beyond the little cherry tree.

My all-time favorite garden was one we visited in England many years ago, called Hadspen. It no longer exists but has remained the model garden in my mind. Nori and Sandra Pope created a garden based on color and it was truly breathtaking.

I tried to follow the basic principles when we put our own garden together. I certainly have neither the knowledge nor creativity, or the time that is required to really accomplish a garden like Hadspen, but with each succeeding year, the garden does look better and better.

The stand of white iris enlivens the garden at this time of year. I hate to watch them bloom out, but as they do the rest of the later bloomers, like the roses and penstemon begin to come alive.

This little beauty blooms early too and keeps the irises company.

I've lost track of some of those vigorous perennials. I've forgotten who they are, but each year they come back in force.

None of my beds are yet perfect. This one has gotten a little mixed up, but I love the light blue linen plants which this year are well-established.

This may not look like columbine; it doesn't to me, but it is. Maybe a mutant one, as it seems to have changed its form since last year.

Another pleasure of the spring garden are the daises in the grass. They remind me of being about eight years old. I always feel a compulsion to make chains.

Yesterday, while Rick did the work, I sat in my chair, enjoyed the sun in my eyes and dreamed of the summer garden.

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One positive result of so much rain is an electric green world to live in. This is the forest of Montmirail as we passed through it last week on our way to visit the family in Paris.

Rick built a nice desk/sewing table for Emily. It turned out beautifully well.

Emily has become a most excellent seamstress. Here Quinn proudly models the hoodie (lined in yummy white fleece) she made for him.

Zinnie is fully upright these days.

While Rick was building, Quinn and I made our own structure.

 

Quinn and his mother did some baking one afternoon. Here's his monster bread. Seems a shame to eat him, he's so cute.

In the Garden, Part I

We've had our creative phases at Maison Conti. We bought the house in 2007 and even if it was in pretty good shape, it took us a full year to add the bathrooms, make a few changes, repaint everything and decorate. The terrace garden in front was one of the original projects. Marc and Jean-François who lived here before us, wanted privacy above all. The terrace, when we bought the house was a veritable jungle. The paving was an unlikely mixture of wobbly stones and gravel. It did have a bit of charm, but it was not practical for us. Besides we wanted to offer a place outside for breakfast and dinner. It had to be completely redone. We cut everything down, which seemed so radical at the time and laid a very nice new terrace with the help of our friend Jonathan. Our planting area, which amounts to a little raised border around the perimeter of the terrace, was thrown together quickly for our first year, as the outdoor space was one of the last things to be finished in June of last year, just before we opened. Our first year in business didn't allow us the time to do much about it. The creative projects for year two have been getting the studio together and getting our gardens organized. Yes, we have two gardens. As well as the terrace in front of the house, we have a little plot about a five minute's walk, up behind the castle. We purchased this separately from the house. Several of these charming gardens exist side-by-side by the old city walls. The locals are ardent vegetable gardeners. Our main objective for the garden up above, was to grow flowers for the house and salad fixings for our dinners. We had every good intention of planting a few vegetables and flowers last year. Most of what we did plant, however, became lost in a tangle of weeds and there just wasn't the time to organize it. This spring, inbetween the projects in the studio and the guests in the house, we managed to completely replant both the terrace garden and the garden up above. My next posting will be about the flower garden, but first about the terrace: We brought out the umbrellas last weekend. Although our clients have been eating on the terrace for the last month, last weekend was the first time it was so bright that the shades needed to be deployed. Of course that could have been because most of them slept until noon! They had been at a wedding until 5AM. Wedding parties in France are a serious affair! Our friend Marta helped rearrange our pretty planters way back in November. She tucked in the white pansies then too, and they're still thriving, although now they've been surrounded with thyme as well. On the terrace we have very sweet smelling plants and lots of flowering ones, mostly in white, pink and violet. We have climbing roses, jasmine, herbs, irises, pinks and lavender plants. We've planted star jasmine on the fence in front. It's really starting to grow, but will still take a year or more to provide a completely private space again. One thing we did plant in 2007 were sweet peas, because they are, without any doubt, my favorite flowers. The variety I bought are perennial, which I have never heard of in the U.S. This year they were definitely not part of the plan, since we were going for a bit more formal look, or at least not the rag-tag look that sweet peas bring. I had no idea, after several really cold months, frost and snow and unusually low temperatures this last winter, that those sweet peas would really raise from the dead. When they arrived, and took over the jasmine trellis, I just didn't have the heart of pull them out. Every garden deserves its rogue element! It was Marta who suggested we paint our planters the same green as the new trim on the house and fill them with seasonal flowers. We found these petunias a few weeks ago and they seemed perfect. They were, at the time of purchase, baby pink and white. Jonathan brought us back some Miracle Grow from England when he went to visit his family, since we had mentioned that it was a product we used often in the U.S. and just can't find in France. After one treatment, all the pink flowers turned a gaudy bright magenta and the white ones all but vanished. Quel mystère! Rick finds them a bit offensive but I rather like their happy way of saying "Look at me!"