Hearth

34 posts

To Every Thing There is a Season

My favourite gardening magazine provides a handy “to do” list for each month: when to prepare the soil for the vegetable garden, when to cut the specimens for tree grafting, when to distill the slurry of stinging nettles…   In September we add the frenzy of harvest and in October the frenzy of the fermenting wine. Some years ago, when the November magazine arrived, I hesitated to open it.   The malolactic fermentation had finally finished;  the wine was “done” and pronounced good – a big relief after the usual weeks of worry.   What I certainly didn’t need that […]

Le Temps des Cerises

We are now in Le Temps des Cerises.   “Cherry Time” conjures up everything about these rare, perfect days in May and June that stop your heart with their kaleidoscope of colours and perfumes.    It’s the time of the longest days of the year, when the evening church bells echo above the river and we’re bathed in the irridescent light of “golden hour.”     This particular June, it’s as if we’ve been cast back fifteen years.   Before the evidence of climate change, before incessant heat-breaking records.  And due to abundant winter rains, it’s once again a year of […]

Times of Uncertainty

My grandfather’s grandfather was a serf in Poland in the early 1800’s.   I suppose he wasn’t an ordinary serf, if that isn’t an oxymoron, because he was a manager.   But an economic slave nonetheless, owned in most ways, owning nothing. I was reminded of this ancestor when I found Julien pruning in the vineyard last week. Pruning and ruminating:  “I look up and see an ocean of vine plants pleading for care, costs rising, climate change, Bordeaux wines in crisis and the world at war.” There was no easy repartee to this dark version of reality.   So […]

Life Goes On

Last night came a letter from cousin Quentin in Texas.  It brought back a moment decades ago when Julien, then ten years old, declared that history was boring.  Quentin took him aside and in less than an hour explained the entire American Civil War.   Julien ran back to us, “History is so exciting!  I wish all my teachers were like that!”   Today Quentin is a judge and a law professor.  His letter spoke briefly of the issues we face today.   And his confidence that eventually we’ll get sorted out; that the next generation will pull us into the light. […]

Ten Years On – An Epilogue

I love epilogues.    The story ends  but the fates of the characters haven’t been revealed.  Then a bit like cheating, you flick the page and know the future. “Grapes and Old Stones.”       Ten Years On. It’s Autumn again.    Hot summer mornings replaced by cold, misty dawns.   Harvest pressing upon us.    The incessant thrum of machines echoing across the valley. This harvest marks ten years under our belt.   In November Julien will officially join us as vineyard manager.   A new story will begin.  As befits endings, I went back to the beginning:  15 August 2011  “Be careful what […]

The Good Shepherd

Our beloved shepherd dog died last month.    Danté was not only a valiant sentinel, he was a faithful companion. We were bereft.   Made worse by the headlines. Pandemic. Russia amassing troops at the Ukraine border. And this week, vineyards and orchards of France hit by frost.    Our son Julien shook us.   “Get back in the saddle.”   He did the research and leg work. He put puppy in our arms.   I write about puppy as part of this chronicle because the arrival of a puppy is important. A kick start.   A clown.   A new member of the […]

December Nights

In June, on the other side of the year, we focus west – the vineyard, the wine, the buzz and push of summer life.   And this particular summer, pushing hard to get through a complicated year above water. In December we focus east, where nights wear thick velvet ear muffs.   7 pm.  A covid-winter night is a silent night.  Quiet magnifies the song of church bells rising from the valley.  I step out into the frosty air to hear Vesper chimes.  Their prayer of thanks pierces the dark.  I’m glad to live in a place where old customs […]

Past and Future Lives

The vineyard held out against the summer drought.   Other lands were scorched.   Farmers don’t bother to doubt climate change; they live it. So far we’ve been lucky.   Longer growing seasons and sunny summers bring grape maturity.   2020 is already heralded to be an excellent vintage. Nonetheless.   We walked parched earth in September                             And so it was profoundly moving when October brought a miracle of life after death.   Some rain dance prayer was answered.   Fields were carpeted in new green, […]

Neighbours

Question for today: What do mushroom filaments (mycelium) have in common with prosperity? Examining our grapes at harvest time, yes we think about mycelium and soil health.  But end of September also brings the end of al fresco, safely-distanced gatherings with friends.  So I am thinking about mycelium and neighbours.  When we moved to this hilltop vineyard we left behind extended family and close friends in far off cities.    By some happy twist of fate our children came to join us.  But actually, we hardly knew anyone.  On our first Christmas Eve I remembered the words of a local wood […]

Quarantine March 2020

Much as life in the time of Covid-19 is a chapter I would like to omit, a valid chronicle doesn’t leave out the hard parts. A few notes for “Grapes and Old Stones”:  Early March 2020.   After a woefully diluvian winter, the first days of Spring.  Delirious, we shed our rubber boots and venture barefoot over the paquerettes and dandelions.  The baby eats the dandelion stems and we smile at his herbalist wisdom.  We carry platters outside for the first family lunch in the sunshine.  Carry tea and cake outside for the first little gathering of friends to shake away the […]

Longest Night of the Year

Years ago when the children were little, we bundled them up against the cold and rode our bicycles to the banks of the Thames.    It was the darkest, longest night of the year.  We brought hot chocolate, brandy, candles.   I wrote a poem for the occasion.  We stood in a circle, the river rushing below.    In their shining, fresh innocence the children were completely present and sincere.    If we believed, so did they.   We lit a candle as each read his or her verse; our own private stage, actor and audience,  creators of our own moment. Then […]

The Next Generation

Each September, the same struggles:  make Time stop, bottle the end of summer light.   This year I’m holding back the flow just long enough to chronicle a new undercurrent. Baby in the house.      It has been a summer of babies.   And youth who were once babies – we knew them fondly – passing under this roof, through the Taverne, in the vines…  adding their stories of life journeys to my memory bank.   They return to this place altered by their trajectories, and I try to map their seedling selves to the adults before me.    […]

Winter Work

“Grapes and Old Stones” is a chronicle of our new life, sometimes lived an old way.   Only 80 years ago this farm functioned without electricity and running water.    Today fireplaces still need wood.   The outhouse needs cleaning.   Big old trees need haircuts.   Vegetable and flower gardens need woodchips.     Now we get help from as much machinery as we can afford.    No nostalgia for filling thousands of wine bottles by hand, but still, very dependent on muscle power.  Some nights they traipse in, muddy boots shedding all over my clean kitchen floor, work clothes scented with compost and […]

Season’s End

Season’s end. John’s hands are stained from pumpovers and “brassage des lies.”   Fermentation finished.  A relief – fermentation is finicky business.   And now we see the extra work in the vineyard paid off; the vintage shows promise.  A few worries ticked off the list. October mornings:  newly crisp air and fog wisps above the valley.  Afternoons:   cold water swim and last caress of summer sun.   Night fall: early. John on the tanks – brassage des lies Season’s end brings changes to our nightly walk.   First the winery, to bed down the wine.   Embrace each tank, […]

Lavender Meditation – July 2018

It’s high summer.   The time of first fruits from the garden, long sunny days, kayaks on the water, cool starry nights, village fêtes, music rising from parties all along the river… Lavender time. When we planted the first row several years ago, I didn’t fully realize that lavender is much more than a flower.    We knew of the medicinal properties against insect stings, and also hoped to deter some mosquitoes.   But now, several plantings later, the spectacle of evening lavender has become central to the setting of high summer. Just before sunset is best.    I sit on a broken old […]

The Off Season

My Farmer’s Almanac has advice for every season.  From a winter to do list with things like “sort your seeds” and “clean your tools,”  I latched on to this tidbit:  “Take time to REST – in two months it all starts up again!” Around here most local, small-scale farmers slow down a bit in winter:  all the potatoes and kiwis are in their cellars; you can’t make cheese since the goats aren’t producing milk, etc.  Except farmer-heroes like Didier: he raises ducks as well as crops, does agricultural research, makes his famous foie gras in his own laboratory, and sells […]

Winter Solstice 2016 – Tuning the Radio

At first we were just ruminating and tinkering.  How to entice beneficial micro critters into the soil; how to prepare potions from the “weeds” in the prairies… At first it was mostly amusing.  Stumbling on Henri’s odorific jars of fermented vegetables in my linen closet (sauerkraut and the like for healthy gut flora); trolling a pasture for fresh cow patties to fashion a “praline” dip for fragile tree roots. Just trying things out, trying to find our north. In our ramblings, we sought out the rural elders. They proudly hobble around their havens of pre 50’s bio diversity, amidst beehives […]

The Summer of So Much

A chapter ends. A chapter with an arched eyebrow – enough rich desserts for awhile.  These past months, one wave after another, richness after richness. How often I wanted to shout, hey stop there just a second.  When will we savour and assimilate?  I need to pause and capture before the next wave comes.  But the best you can do is try to let go, so you’re supple enough to take it all in. Letting go.  Letting go of the illusion of permanence.  Trying to let go of the illusion of control.  Trying to balance between willful action to create […]

Reinforcements

When we sent our children across the ocean to finish their education, we didn’t consider they might never return. But as the nest went empty, we changed course.  Sold the city apartment, acquired land. We told the children this farmer’s folly was not to be confused with that burdensome genre of family legacy laced with bad drama for future generations.   Sell it all when we die if you wish.  No ties.  Lead your lives, fly we said. So they did.  Of course we delighted in their discoveries and cheered their adventures.   Secretly we mourned to see them so rarely.   Sometimes […]

Parallel Lives

Crisscrossing the land on this hilltop are several roads to nowhere.  They are the vestiges of old rural lanes that once connected farms and hamlets to villages.  A few of these paths still lead from one place to another, but most of them were chopped up a century ago and have fallen into abandon. My favorite path has an intersection at our front gate.  Like the scarecrow’s choice, from this point you can meander south along the ridge, east down to the stream, or north to the river.  Or rather, one could a hundred years ago.  You wouldn’t know you’re […]

Going underground

There was a time I thought it strange and frightening to bury our loved ones in the earth.  So much dark and heavy.  So much mystery.  So unfriendly. I should have remembered my own first plunge into deep earth.  Four years old, imploding with confused fury after an act of injustice, running away blind.  Searing indignation, prickling hot tears, and then a fall into a deep hole.  Later my family found me asleep, wrapped around the trunk and roots of an old oak tree. Of course my older brothers teased me for decades, via their scathingly pejorative epithet – tree hugger. […]

For the Friction

When we renovated the kitchen of this old farmhouse we installed two sinks because generous guests are forever asking, “what can I do to help?” So all through this glorious month of bounty – fruit, vegetables and convivial gatherings – cheery teams have put those workstations to good use. The teams migrate as projects are conceived. One morning someone wakes up and says, “let’s build an extension to the deck.” And out come the power drills. On the hottest afternoon of the year our neighbors Nikky and David * arrive with expertise and physical prowess to help move the huge […]

Summer Linen

Nothing makes me feel as safe and secure as the ritual of summer linen. Even the word linen calms my breath, conjuring up a daily life when real linen was a household staple for everyday use; an era when things moved more slowly. Linen is heavy and wrinkles terribly and must be ironed to regain its wonderful skin-caressing, cool smoothness. To care for linen, one must have time. Today I’m preparing summer linen for the arrival of family and guests. I recall what my friend Helen said the first time she visited: “I fell into bed last night and thought – […]

Summer Solstice

Millions of years ago the Dordogne carved a series of caves into the rock cliff under our house.  The village historian told me they were the site of Druidic rituals, later appropriated by the Romans for their own gods. Since it’s the Summer Solstice, I took myself down to the caves this morning looking for the wisp of a Druid or two. The spot is somewhat difficult to access, and hidden most of the year by the shadows of thickets and tress.   But in late June at sunrise, the caves present several niches of warm and inviting nooks.   […]

Witch Doctors

The image of the wild man or woman living in the woods, stirring up cauldrons of potions for ailments, seems to have been filed away into the long-ago-and-far-away category. A mostly irrelevant archetype unless you’re reading tarot cards. We might ask how mankind ever survived without modern pharmaceuticals. Right up until the 1950’s, our parents lived and breathed customs and know-how that changed radically when industrial agriculture was introduced post WW2. Something as modest as the omnipresent hedge – with varying plants to attract beneficial insects and creatures, provided wind breakers that protected crops during storms, and valuable, earth-nourishing root […]