There's a rash spreading along the street: tatty tarmac drives are being replaced with block-paved ditto. The tarmac at Forges-l'Evêque is a bit tired, for sure. But we've seen so many block-paved drives degenerate too soon after installation that we're in no hurry to sign up to the local fashion. And there seemed to be rather a lot of oiks standing around joking and pissing on walls opposite, as distinct from doing a bit of work on our neighbours' drive, so we'll defer that decision. Goodness knows, we have a recalcitrant central heating system to see to and pay for, after all.
The garden is coming along just fine. We planted out antirrhinums yesterday, and hoiked out a lot of weeds. The hostas are fighting off the slugs, with a bit of help from the blue pellets that I scatter without the slightest compunction. We feed the birds decent stuff, after all, so they're at little risk from the slug pellets, and if the blue jobs also discourage the cats, tant mieux. The squirrels, on the other hand, have brought down both our peanut feeders in the past few days, so I suspect we may have to invest in squirrel-proof Fort Knox jobs. (Or hire one of my colleagues with her shotgun. Story on application, if you haven't heard it already.) We haven't seen a nuthatch yet this year, but the blue and great tits are much in evidence, together with blackbirds, song thrushes, dunnocks, chaf- and greenfinches, and starlings. And the robins supervise us constantly.
Have you read Shantaram? If so, I'd be interested to know what you made of it. For my part, 200 pages in, I'm enjoying it greatly, but not quite succeeding in articulating why that is. Watch - and contribute to - this space (email me at smithd11220@yahoo.com).
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