Well, the vineyard survived the second onslaught of hail yesterday. The tender buds are still intact and the nascent grapes and apples get another chance at life. What a relief.
We met our lovely new friends, Deborah and Peter Core up at Chateau Malaudos today for a spot of lunch. They make beautiful biodynamic wine in Caux at their vineyard,
Mas Gabriel . This year they made their first white and rose wines, both of which are absolute crackers - we can't recommend them highly enough. And you can buy them online if you like! We sat in full sunshine talking wine, and scoffed gorgeous cheese, pate and tomatoes washed down by a bottle of their spectacular pink.
On Wednesday the paysagiste Michel Reboul turned up with his team to dig up the vines at the top of the amphitheatre. This is the steepest part of our land and has always been a bit of a nightmare. The only time we took the quad up there Lizzie had to hang off the uphill side of it like a windsurfer to stop it toppling down the hill. (Please don't try this at home!) Many of the Cinsault vines there died when the vineyard was more or less abandoned and the rest have struggled ever since so it feels as if we've cleared out a dusty attic now they're gone.
After two days of rain the soil was pretty damp and in perfect condition for pulling up vines apparently. They were about 50 years old I guess and, like icebergs, most of the plant lives below the surface - some of the root systems went on for metres.
The lovely Christophe was the artist behind the digger-levers which he manipulated like a master puppeteer, and his even lovelier assistant was our very own Josh who worked like a Trojan all day long lugging heavy vines up and down the hill and building them into a souche wall.
We reckon there's enough firewood there to see us through next winter.
When they finished that they set to work filling in the road by the mazet parcelle, shoving a huge rock under Olive's foot and digging over the grassy bit near the reservoir which Lizzie wants to turn into a lawn. The two of them got through the most incredible amount of work that day, "happy work" Josh called it. He was pleased as punch to be working on his land and it was fantastic to see him in his professional role as apprentice landscape gardener.
The countryside is in full bloom right now, carpeted with irises, spring flowers and, here and there, tender shoots of wild asparagus. It's so fine it's quite difficult to spot but it's worth the effort, the succulent tips taste like the freshest peas straight from the pod. There are two sure-fire ways of finding it. One is to suck up to any old boy you see clutching a bulging carrier bag and the other is to dog the footsteps of Kit who has become the world's greatest living Asparagus-Hound. Quick as a flash she spots her quarry and before you can say "Ooh, wouldn't that be lovely roasted with some olive oil and rock salt" she's bitten off the tip, scoffed the lot and tuned her asparagus radar to a new bearing. We're wondering if she might transfer this skill to truffle-hunting though holding her back after she'd got a taste for the "black gold" is a daunting, and expensive, notion.
Meanwhile, here's a little something for Marianne. Yes, sweetheart your spuds are on the move and lookin' good. As you can see, everything in the garden is just lovely.
