French spring walk #4

Despite the children not being remotely in the mood for a walk this afternoon, I still set out with them and my parents for a walk of a few miles along the floor of the lush Vallée de Bonnan.

We saw so many flowers that I couldn't quite take them all in.  Daisies, buttercups, vetch, periwinkles, wild strawberries, violets, cowslips and aquilegia.  Bursting out of the hedgerows, spreading across the meadows, winding their way up through box hedges and around the base of oak trees.

But what really stopped us in our tracks were the wild orchids.  Teeny, tiny purple and blue ones, and then some large, dramatic, asparagus-like, pink ones just as we finished our walk.

There were also some truly enormous, and very ugly, ones which were not quite in bloom.  We're going to have to come back and check on their progress next week.  I find orchids fascinating, although I couldn't say that I really like them.  They spook me for some reason - they are so mysterious in the way that they come and go from a patch of land between one year and the next, and their way of clustering as they grow and then suddenly unfurling is a little sinister.

I found out today that it is not a good idea to walk with children who don't want to be walking with you, because the complaining and sighing can diminish the charm of even the most beautiful of surroundings.  I've learnt my lesson, however.  Tomorrow I will be doing my longest walk yet - and my first walk of this holiday by myself.  We're all heading into town early in the morning, to go shopping at the market, and I shall be fortifying myself with an espresso and a croissant at the cafe before I set off alone on foot for the long walk back home.

10 things

• Time goes slowly here
• I've been preparing broad beans for supper - a slow, leisurely task. Pod, boil, cool, pod again, pile into pretty bowl.
• I don't know where the children are or what they're doing. Which is just what you want on holiday.  They ran in asking for iPod speakers, toothpicks and handcream earlier.  Maybe I don't want to know any more.
• We had an onion baguette with cheese for lunch.  It was as delicious as it sounds.
• Mum & Dad have been clearing out their shed.  They have their own hard hats, for when they cut down trees.  I didn't know this about them
• The nights are very cold - we sleep under very thick duvets and quilts, and wear woolen socks - but the days are hot and saturated with sunshine.
• I have a new tube of French handcream, and Marie Claire Idees - these things make me very happy.
• The wisteria smells heady and sweet.  There are enormous jet-black bees humming around it.
• The children tell me that only by consuming Orangina and Nutella, are they having the full French cultural experience.
• We close the shutters at night and sleep in darkness that is so black and velvety you can't see your hand in front of your face.  I'm a little freaked out by this, and miss my street lamp.

French spring walk #3

This is the Abbaye de Beaulieu.

I came here this morning, for a walk with G and O.  Now the abbey is an art gallery, but today we came not for the paintings, but for a walk around the grounds.  We strolled amongst the trees that lined the banks of the river around the abbey.  Hundreds of years ago, the monks used to farm trout in these waters.  We wandered through more lush meadows full of spring flowers and blooming grasses, and marvelled at the vivid blue skies and warm sunshine.

G and O picked bunches of flowers from the meadow, which we brought home and put in glasses to decorate the table.

French spring walk #2

Today's walk was in the hot afternoon sunshine.  Just Graham and me this time.  We walked to the neighbouring village, not taking the usual route by road, along the bottom of the valley, but walking right up and over the very steep - almost precipitous - hill which separates the two villages.

We started off by meadows strewn with wildflowers - buttercups, daisies and so many other pretty ones I don't know the names for.  By the time we reached the top of the hill we were hot, sweaty, panting with exhaustion and not caring so much about the flowers.
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The hill is covered with a dense oak forest, teeming with plants and wildlife.  We saw thousands of beetles, ants, bees, spiders and butterflies.  Twice we heard thundering hooves and saw a flash of white bambi tail disappearing off through the trees.  And as we reached the village on the other side we saw a really big, fat green-blue lizard sunbathing greedily in the middle of a patch of buttercups.
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The wildlife was too quick and shy for me to photograph, but the flowers made up for it.
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lilac blossom
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pink blossom on the quince trees that grow wild in the hedgerow - which reminded me of Sue

lichen on a twig
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 pretty small blue flowers
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miniscule blue speedwell
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cowslips - almost over

At the village we stopped for a very welcome cold glass of beer at the bar, and then headed back up and over the ludicrously steep hill, slightly wobblier than when we walked down it.  The whole walk took us three hours, and at times we felt like explorers stumbling across a precious and unexpected abundance of flora and fauna, which had to be inspected and catalogued.  If I could draw I'd be heading back up there tomorrow with a sketchpad and coloured pencils to document it all like the early explorers did - with watercolours, charcoal pencils and paper.

But perhaps I've had enough of steep hills for a little while - there are rivers here too, and river walks are always flat.  My legs would thank me for a river walk next I think.
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French spring walk #1

I am missing my weekday walks with Gill very much.  For the last couple of weeks we didn't have a free day that coincided, and now the holidays are with us and we are busy with other things.

But I am carrying on with the walks by myself, and now I am on holiday I can take walks with the family if they want to come too.

This evening, I took a quick stroll with my mother and G for about a mile across the village, around the hill on the other side, and back home across the fields.  At this time of year, this part of France is rampant with new spring growth.  The land is lush, green and ribboned with rivers and gorges - in April everything is bursting into life and growing almost before your very eyes.

This field in the picture above was a haze of yellow buttercups and blue vetch, and the grass reached nearly to our knees.

We saw dandelions, daisies, oak trees with new, vivid leaves, small blue flowers, small white flowers and an ancient tractor dragging a trailer full of hunks of stone.

This brief, pre-supper stroll was a nice easy walk for the start of our holiday, but I'm going to get much more serious.  I think tomorrow I may tackle the hysterically steep hill where the wild deer hide out.

The journey

It takes us about sixteen hours to travel from our house in London to my parent's house in South West France.  That's a very, very long way to drive. 

We set off at 4am, and arrived at half past eight in the evening, French time.  Just in time to share a bottle of wine and sit down to a family meal around the big wooden table in the kitchen.

There are ways of making a sixteen hour journey bearable - and on occasions it even felt like a fun adventure:

• Pack vast quantities of food in the car.  More than you think you can possibly eat.  We took sixteen sandwiches, a giant fruit cake, oatcake biscuits, crisps, kitkats, chewing gum, 3 bottles of water and 2 flasks of coffee, and ate most of it.  Nice, homemade food is a must on long journeys - it saves your sanity and your wallet.
• Only attempt such a long journey with children old enough to keep themselves amused for sixteen hours.  Until a couple of years ago we just didn't go down to visit my parents in France.  It was too long a journey for the children (and therefore us) to endure.
• Provide the children with things to do.  Books and iPods do it for mine.
• Know your route before you set off.  There is nothing worse than marital navigational rows at the start of a holiday.
• Agree ground rules for music choice during the journey.  In our car it is very simple: the driver chooses the music and nobody else is allowed to complain.  This means that both G and I are very keen to share the driving equally.  He endures my Country Classics playlist with very good humour and I don't say a word when he puts on Joe Satriani guitar wig-out sessions.  That's fair.

G said there were two moments when the sixteen hour journey seemed completely worthwhile.  When we finally turned off the motorway and drove down through the Aveyron Gorges into St Antonin - the views, as the sun set, were breathtaking.  And when we were sat around the table, with a glass of cold wine in our hands, laughing and chatting with my parents.

Buggy headlights, at the end of our drive along the length of France

Waking up this morning to sunshine and wisteria

Japanese school dress

Yesterday I made a dress version of the pretty Japanese top I wrote about here, in school uniform colours.  O's school allow either light blue or navy blue gingham for the summer dresses, so when I saw this two-tone gingham cotton at Shaukat for only £3.50 a metre I did actually shriek with excitement.  I think it's meant for men's shirts, but it is perfect for school uniform as well.

The dress version of this pattern is so simple in its design - I really love that.  Very un-fussy.  I used narrower bias tape for the neck this time, which I think works a little better.  It makes for a narrower bow.

Another change I made was to cut the front in one piece rather than two.  I then made a placket for the neck, which saved having to match up all the gingham squares down the front seam (which to be honest I probably wouldn't have had the patience to do anyway).

I hemmed the dress with ribbon, to give it a little more interest, and because I know O loves anything to be trimmed with ribbon.  In a very small way I also get a kick out of the little element of rebellious satisfation there is in making an item of uniform with a little touch of individuality to it.

She loves it, and pranced off down the road to school swishing her new dress and looking very pleased with herself.

Seen on the Tube

Northern Line - Hampstead to Bank

• Five pairs of Converse plimsolls - blue, lilac, cream, green and grey.
• A family with lilting Geordie accents, hauling enormous suitcases off the train at Kings Cross.
• Many prettily wrapped bunches of Mothering Sunday flowers - always in the arms of young men or middle-aged ladies.
• Grandparents saying goodbye to grandchildren who were immersed in their books.
• Two pairs of sunglasses perched on top of heads.
• A young man wearing swimming trunks and a denim jacket.  Couldn't help but stare in appreciation curiosity.
• A pretty teenager with four bright felt flowers in her hair.
• A man reading a Japanese e-book on a Kindle.

The view over London from Parliament Hill, on Hampstead Heath

An outrageously pretty Japanese blouse

I've been having adventures with a Japanese pattern book this week.  I bought this book last year from Tikki in Kew.  I have no idea what the title is, because I can't read Japanese, but the subtitle is "Homesewn summer wear for girls 120 to 150cm tall".  I hope the title is something snappier.

The patterns inside are what counts, however.  I truly love every single one of them.  Something that I particularly like is that there are patterns for dresses, trousers, skirts, shorts, tops, shirts and camisoles - truly something for every possible occasion or mood.  O agrees because when I asked her to mark which ones she'd like me to make for her, she put a post it note on every single page.

I started with this sweet blouse, which also has a dress version.

I decided to start with this blouse, because I think the dress version, made with the capped sleeves of the blouse, would make a wonderful school summer dress this year.  I've made the blouse first as a practice run for the dress.

This is the first time I've ever made anything from a Japanese pattern book before, but I wasn't too intimidated because there is a wealth of information on the internet about how to do this.  The tutorial I mainly used was this one from The Purl Bee, but I also found the recent series by Kate, at M is for Make, really helpful.

I spent roughly three times as long drafting the pattern as I did sewing. 

The patterns do, inevitably, take a long time to get right.  You need to trace them, add seam allowances, adjust them as necessary (for example there are in fact no pattern pieces for the top in this book, just pieces for the dress, with recommended adjustments for the top), and then label them.  But I went slowly and none of the process went wrong - I think I may even have learnt the Japanese symbol for sleeve! 

Japanese patterns - like Ottobre ones - work in cm, rather than inches, which is an absolute delight after years of sewing American patterns in inches, which I just find so counter-intuitive.

The blouse was incredibly quick to cut out and sew - barely two hours from start to finish.  The top has no facings which makes life much simpler and quicker (and yet, still looks neat and finished inside as every single seam is overlocked).  There were also very few pattern pieces to work with.  Just two sleeves, two front pieces, one back piece and some bias tape.  Really very simple indeed - even with absolutely no knowledge of Japanese whatsoever.  I just followed the illustrations, which are very clearly drawn, and I had no moments of puzzlement or swearing when I sewed something in back to front or upside down (which happens to me surprisingly often when I am dressmaking - much as I love it).

And the finished article?  Well, I just love it.  I find it outrageously girly, pretty and summery, all at once.  I know it will get worn and worn, and I'll end up making a whole pile of them.

When O tried it on, I found I'd made the elastic on the cuffs too tight, so I re-threaded it to make it a little looser.  There may have been instructions somewhere that told me what length to cut the elastic, but if there were I didn't understand them, so I had to guess.  I also guessed how much to gether the neckline by, as there were no notches to line up.  But both the sleeves and the neckline turned out beautifully so I can't have gone too far wrong.

O loves it too, and said she'd probably wear it all year round, with a long sleeved t-shirt underneath in winter.  Clever girl - that would look great as well, of course.

The fabric I used is a Cath Kidston haberdashery fabric which I know from experience is very stiff until it has been washed a few times.  This blouse would look more floaty in a voile, or lawn or soft linen.  I think one in a plain buff-coloured linen with a bright flash of bias tape around the neck would look wonderful, but I can see that the jazzy Cath Kidston fabrics are more to an 8 year-old's taste.

If you, like me, have been dithering about whether to take the plunge and have a go at making something from Japanese pattern, then I would absolutely urge you to give it a go.  If you've even made one or two items of clothing from a regular pattern you will be fine.  I found I rather enjoyed figuring out what to do - it was just tricky enough to keep me interested, but I promise you, there was absolutely no swearing whatsoever!