Racing Autumn

As you can see, the front of cottage #1 is beautifully painted by my fair hand. Each patch of about six inches squared took about five minutes to fully daub, due to the extreme porridge surface effect.

Kevin's resourceful protection technique for his grease trap lid involves using the two concrete blocks we found on site, and an old cartwheel. The concrete blocks have shown great tenacity and flexibility during their service at Cousein Bas. One of them performed admirably as our doorstep to the caravan, wrapped in a piece of carpet.The other has been the true chameleon, providing steps, supports, and any number of specialist services on site. It deserves a medal. We haven't finished this area yet, as we will be taking the ground level down on this Northerly aspect. I'm not sure how this can be true, but it seems that this area was dedicated to burying broken crockery and cutlery. We no longer require this service. We have the dechetterie. And it is likely that the creative part of me will see beauty and utility in any further kitchen items that become broken, and include them in my pottery. (I have to tell you that the pottery is still very much a bread oven, and is a long way from being identifiable as a pottery, but one day I will have time to throw, glaze and fire clay!)

The back of cottage #1 is an embarrassment. But, fret not. This is the site of the most glorious terrace in France!

Well, it does feel a bit funny on this side! All tucked up for our last two nights at Cousein Bas.

Polly has chosen a sleeping place that offers a degree of camouflage! Now, don't judge our taste on this item of furniture... We needed a sofa bed for guests to sleep on during this period of rebirth/renovation, and this clic clac was the cheapest available at But. But is a French furniture chain similar to Ikea. I must admit to a sneaking admiration of its unashamed tackiness.

The following photo deserves examination. It reveals the awkward unreadiness of the interior of cottage #1. I shall highlight a few of its finer features.

• There is a gas cooker in the centre of the room
• Someone has seen fit to cook a vegetable chilli in this filthy building site
• The toilet is there, right in the middle of the scene, open to the world, with a little bit of hose running into the cistern
• There is a 'Santa Claus' bag in the scene containing the snares and rabbit-gutting knife, along with my waterproof trousers and salopettes 
• There is rubble and grime in abundance
• Someone has judged that a glass of red wine will be just right the thing

A little bit of the maxi-puff insulation is stuffed in the ceiling recesses. Kevin thinks this is a good way to stop the loir (edible dormice or glis glis) nesting in it. "They'll just fall out and hit the floor."

 Autumn decorates our top lawn.

I've harvested what apples I could to bring back to England, along with hundreds of walnuts.

This poor fir tree was left in the centre of the devastation at the end of our drive. It seems to be holding out its arms, saying, "Just look at this mess!"

 I'm always distracted by the extreme redness of the holly berries, 'as red as any blood'.

Kevin reinstates the 'gate' to discourage cars from driving up unintentionally. This does happen all of the time, as the main road does appear to continue up this way, rather than down the hill to the rest of Cousein Bas. That's probably because we have overused our entrance with constant trips to the dechetterie and bricolage stores, and have cut a clear course through the fallen tree debris on the road. The last thing we want is cars driving around on our land, damaging the new sewage system!

And fairyland fungus captivates me! I discovered this little city along the footpath that leads to the woods, and a million sweet chestnuts.

This bark has an unusually silky texture, like angel hair. I also detected a bashful deer face here! But I see faces everywhere...