SPRING BLOOMS ON THE TERRACE: MAY, 2019

While hunting for our retirement home in France, we knew that we wanted to be in a village, a village with a bakery, with a place to buy milk and eggs. Maybe a butcher. Bread trucks are fine for some. Not for us. And we didn't want to have to climb into a car just because we ran out of butter. Restaurant? Nice but not necessary. Cash point?  Petrol station? Nice but...

The house itself needed to have a place for me to hide...I mean, to work. And separate living and dining spaces so that Cathey could cook without having to entertain at the same time. In other words, no 'open plan' combination living/dining room with a kitchen corner.

Finally, there needed to be outside space. Not a communal courtyard or a piece of sidewalk commandeered for personal use. A private garden or a terrace, thank you. Attached. The idea of a plot on the edge of town on which to grow veggies is an interesting European concept but not sufficient to our needs.

In the end, we found exactly what we wanted. A house on a pedestrian walkway with no through auto traffic. A baker and two butchers and shops and a bar/restaurant all just a few meters away. Cathey has a nice salon on a different floor than the kitchen. I have an 'office' on the top floor and out of the way. No cash point and no petrol station, but so what?

And a terrace. Cathey says that she's only just begun to configure it to her liking. I like it just fine but then, I'm a guy.

Spring cleaning in progress. Not our house but caught my eye on one of my walks around town as did the following.

TERRACE BLOOMS TWO WEEKS LATER

We had an African Grey Parrot who was quite the talker. Named Pushkin. He could recite Blake:  

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies, Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, Dare seize the fire?

No foolin'. Perfectly understandable. And on bright, sunny days such as we've had recently in the south of France, he was known to say:

The sun is shining. The birds are singing. And Pushkin-bird is happy as a clam.

No foolin'.

We gifted Pushkin to a friend when we moved across the Pond but we get regular updates. Meanwhile, the sun is indeed shining. The birds are indeed singing. And the plants on the terrace are happy as clams.

The late freeze really energized the succulents.

I mean, really energized the succulents.

I mean...

...scared the living daylights out of the succulents.

All of our mandevilla froze out,, so we're starting anew.

Our little olive trying desperately to fruit but we figure it's just too young.

When Cathey told me that she wanted a plumbago, I wondered what we would do with a colorful camper van.

The orange threw hundreds of blooms. We'll be satisfied with a handful of fruit.

And yes, orange blossoms do smell wonderful...

I had to lop a good bit off of the lemon. Can you see all of the new sprouts?

The roses are getting ready to explode.

Buds throughout the foliage.

The freeze took our bouganvila so we're starting fresh. Check out Sylvie hiding in the background.

Lavendar...

 

And a carefully posed Siamese in the sun...