Lovely evening out

We were a bit late arriving for apéros yesterday; we rather got caught up in watching the wedding coming out of the church, and then because of all the cars departing in all their excitement it seemed prudent to wait just a few minutes, then we met M. Demongeot...

Etc!

Still Mme Claude waved aside my apologies; I don't think here it matters too much if you are a little late arriving.

[It's certainly never seemed to bother people working on the house; even a few days doesn't appear to matter in some cases!]

We had a look round her gardens [I think the blokes would have been quite happy going straight into cork-popping mode, but there was no way I'd pass up a chance like that!]; in that typically French way, they have plots separated from the house by the neighbours' land, so she has two vegetable patches, and a wrap-around garden, with the lawn backing onto a field on one side and a vineyard on another.

Lovely views across to our side of the valley [and David said you can see our house from there, but Mme and I were too busy looking at the flax/irises/geraniums/raspberry canes et al.], and I suspect they get more of a breeze on very hot days.

By the time we got indoors, I was already laden down with seed heads for various annuals, a (huge) courgette and some tomatoes.

By the time we left, Mme had added a Mexican Hat Plant, a bucket of windfall pears and a kilo of her own honey.

[As an aside, Wikipedia notes it's a native of Madagascar, and that all parts of the plant are poisonous, but doesn't mention why it's known as a Mexican Hat Plant; I guess I'll never know.]

All totally appreciated, but it did make me feel like the sort of sponging relative who only shows up when there is a will to be read! I know that it's the generosity of people who grow their own produce [I've been the person pressing rooted cuttings from my garden and streptocarpus plants on anyone who is foolish enough to express admiration too often to believe otherwise], but I still felt awkward, as though we'd gone there fishing for gifts.

Not true, but it will take a bit of getting used to I suspect...

We had a lovely chat, and ate some wonderful food: cherry tomatoes [split from all the rain, but none the worse for that], courgette & carrot chunks from the garden, home-made gougères, and little rounds of toast topped with home-made rabbit pâté [with the rabbits from the farm]. And some champagne, obviously!

I think it was the warmest evening we've had in this (wetter) part of the summer, and walking slowly home hand in hand in the falling light was a memory I shall treasure.

It felt like a perfect summer's evening, and I can't wait to welcome them here when I've got the place a bit [LOT!] tidier...

This morning Claude showed up and took us to visit one of his orchards [again French inheritance laws in action, we think], where we collected more pears to replace those we took home with us, so that she could make the pear tart for her grandchildren's Sunday lunch.

We think Claude was in his element, showing us around the fields on the other side of the village, and seeing other villages that we ordinarily only visit by car; I think it's only the second time I've been in an off-roader/4x4 that actually goes off road. At first I was quite nervous, with him driving over ploughed fields, but he clearly knows what he's doing, and by the end I was just thoroughly enjoying myself.

Still don't see that the average person needs a 4x4, but can appreciate how useful they are round here if you regularly go on the farm tracks [that one pulled M. Petitpas' car back to the road when he stopped on a track to have his breakfast one morning], and certainly if you need to drive across fields when the ground has had as much rain as we have in recent weeks.

Speaking of which, it seems to have stopped again, so I might head out and enjoy the day until it starts again!