ORPINGTONS!

The sun is shining, the garden is blooming all over the place and so are the weeds. The roads are quiet, even the noisy, lumbering farm vehicles seem to be staying put at the co-op depots.  And yesterday was Ostara, the Spring or Vernal Equinox when the sun shines directly on the Equator and the day and night are of almost equal length.  Ostara signals fresh growth and new beginnings.  Perhaps the pandemic that’s causing so much sickness and disruption will mark the start of a new era.  We can only hope that mankind  wakes up.

Talking of weeds, well I did mention them, there seems to be loads of chickweed in our garden.  Luckily it’s easy to gather. Ours is the common variety, which is edible, not just by chickens but humans too.  It makes a great garnish and is nice and crunchy in salads.  As a tea it can be used to treat chest ailments such as bronchitis, hoarseness and coughs.  Perhaps that’s what the doctors should be recommending for COVID 19!

CHICKWEED – NOT JUST FOR CHICKENS

As for food, Leaf and I have a well-stocked larder – I keep it that way – and we also have Claude and Philippe, the best neighbours in the world whose organic smallholding produces wonderful fruit and veg.

Onto a wee diversion which helped relieve the feelings of isolation.   We had an adventure yesterday.  Well, with the lockdown, almost anything out of the ordinary counts as an adventure.  We were outside weeding when we spotted two of Philippe’s pedigree chickens rootling around in our wild garden.  We called him and almost immediately he and Claude shot round in a panic.  We shut Monty in the conservatory then the four of us placed ourselves at a discreet distance at the four corners of the wild garden.  Making a suitable variety of noises, we tried to head off the chickens as they scrambled through the undergrowth clucking furiously and ruffling their considerable tail feathers.  It must have taken about a quarter of an hour before Philippe managed to grab one.  He gave it a resounding kiss on its little head and lifted it gently over the raspberry bushes into their garden.  Meantime Claude chased the other through the hole they’d made in the fence.  All the while, Pepe our cat sat nearby quietly watching.  He knows better than to go for a fluffy Orpington!

THE CREAMY ONE IN THE MIDDLE IS ONE OF THE ORPINGTONS

Later we exchanged some white beans for a pot of lemon curd to celebrate the return of Philippe’s errant birds.

Yes, times such as these call for pleasurable activities with good results.  Definitely lemon curd ticks both the boxes. Reminded of this most delicious of spreads by friend Gail, we decided to pluck two out of three of our lemons – the tree is very small but the lemons were chunky.  So with enough eggs – thank you to Philippe’s babes – and some sugar, we managed two medium and two small pots.  It doesn’t do to make too much at a time unless we plan to freeze it – it goes off pretty quickly, even in the fridge.  Actually, with Leaf about, lemon curd doesn’t stand a chance.

SUBLIME ON ITS OWN OR IN PUDDINGS TOO!

So much for levity.  We live in interesting and frankly, scary times.  Where will this all end or will it be with us for many years, doing the rounds?  They may come up with an effective vaccine but the coronavirus has been thriving in various guises for some years, if not decades.  The most worrying thing, apart from the horrible death toll, is the effect this pandemic will have on businesses of all kinds and for huge chunks of the population.  Time will tell.

At home, my brilliant wheeze last time – reading Leaf’s book to him – went a bit wrong.

Well, not exactly wrong – on the second reading, he fell asleep.  I think he’d been out for a while when I looked up to check how he was reacting.  And it’s not as if I was tackling a boring bit, it was about his first love, the amazing Thelma.  I stopped and left him to snooze.  When he woke up, he hadn’t a clue what had been going on.  I told him.  ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Thank you, darling.  That was nice of you.’   However it appeared to sink in because, the next day, he spent a lot of time flicking through the book whenever he could find it.  He puts things down in the most unlikely places then panics when they’ve ‘mysteriously disappeared’.  In looking for it, we found a variety of other lost items.

TAKING A NAP IN HAPPIER DAYS

The day after that, he’d forgotten about the book completely and was into weeding and I was too busy sorting our shopping trip.  We’re now obliged to complete an ‘attestation de déplacement dérogatoire’, a printed sheet stating the reasons for our displacement (!) dated and signed.  In the event of being stopped by the police, who are on the look-out, we have to show evidence of who we are, i.e. identity papers, as well as the said document. If we don’t have one, we can be fined €300+.  They don’t muck about here, no procrastinating – non-essential shops and businesses, bars and restaurants along with public events, venues and leisure centres of all kinds have been ordered to close.  So they have.

Now we’ve been out of visual contact with friends for almost a week.  Just when we all need to pull together, reassure each other that ‘this too will pass’, we’re told to stay home, to only go out for essentials – food and medical supplies and to walk the dog.  The walks are meant to be within max 2km of home.  Of course, it all makes complete sense.  We need to halt the spread of the virus.

W-W-WALKING THE DOG

For the first time in months, we’re keeping up with the news on TV as well as online – mostly France 24 which is broader based with occasional checks on what’s going on in the UK.  Last time we looked in, earlier today, some British people were still behaving like selfish idiots.  In the States, there are unscrupulous opportunists buying up loo rolls and other essentials to resell for ridiculous prices.  Sickening.

I’ve come up with another idea which I will report on next time.  Hypnotism.  There are scripts for AD and dementia patients downloadable or online on Youtube.  Leaf is amenable so I will set that up as soon as I can.  Nothing ventured.

Good luck, one and all, and let’s join the applause for the amazing work the medical teams are doing world wide by opening our doors or windows, stepping out onto our balconies or going into our gardens at 8pm each night.  People expressing their appreciation by communal clapping from all corners of the earth will send a huge blast of positive energy winging its way to all those who are taking massive risks to protect us all.

SENDING POSITIVE ENERGY

The most enormous THANK-YOU to those wonderful people.