Saturday and Sunday I spent in the garden.
No – not lazing round the pool with a glass of cold white wine!
I walk every day to our workshop that we built at the end of the garden here in the depths of South West France. My eyes are blinkered, trying not to see all work that needs doing in this fast expanse of open field. But last weekend, I could leave the jungle of weeds no longer. All those pretty Poppies from May were now a mass of tangled weeds stifling the other plants that I had so lovingly grown from seed or cuttings the year before.
Ah well, nobody to blame but myself!
3 hours and 3 huge piles of dried up poppy plants later, I have found my little seedlings hanging on for dear life! I spent what seemed like hours last summer nursing tiny plants of Onamental Blue Thistles that I had grown from a packet of seeds. Of coarse, I ended up with far too many, but never mind, we have a big garden to fill, the bees just love them and once established, they need vary little water, so are great for hot dry gardens!
I found this wonderful photo on one of the French wordpress blogs I follow. Why not go over there at leshachineur and spend a little time brushing up your French and delving into all the vintage goodies, among other things, that she finds around France – particularly in the Brocantes of Paris.
What is a Brocante? – a Flea Market.
What is a Chineur? – a Bargain Hunter!
And the Poppies? What do I do next Spring time when all those little seeds lying in the hot, warm soil at the moment, start sprouting again?
Well, knowing me, I’ll probably let them grow. They do display a fine body of glorious red after the bareness winter!