Howell Green in Normandy

Howell Green

South of Brécey, Normandy

Some snippets of what it is to own a small cottage in Normandy.

Wildlife

This is a true haven of wildlife. All those rumours of French farm inefficiency, twaddle. They do enough, they work incredibly long hours at a rate I can maintain for a good hour. The countryside is alive, pesticides, insecticides would appear are all too expensive for the small farmer and small holder. Limited usage maybe but things would have to be pretty desperate. There don't seem to be any aggrobusinessmen in this part of the world. No they nurture the land.

I have seen a myriad of birds of prey, red squirrels, squidged hedgehogs and down by the stream are damselflies and dragon flies. In the stream minnows and trout and some rather large water rats.

I've yet to see the mole burrowing happily in the orchard. We even have an escapee living in next doors yard - a prairie dog, no, it's not a marmot. Only one rabbit though outside of a cage and it was a mighty big one. It too was an escapee.

Plantlife

In our acre we have a cider orchard, pear tree, two cherry trees, a mirabelle, a bay tree, a walnut tree, hazel and some decorative plants which I don't really have a great interest in. I'll be adding more pieces on the garden when I get the time. One of which will be removing mistletoe and creating a cardboard herb rockery. The only failure I've had so far is lavender. Everything else grows, so would the lavender if I planted it in the right place. The grass is profuse. I asked one of our neighbours when the hazelnuts would be ready to eat in this part of the world. He said, when they are the colour of ones teeth, I look slightly confused and with that he smiled - the answer a yellowy brown.

Neighbours

Our neighbours are great, if you need a hand they are round like a shot. One grazes his sheep on the orchard and picks the apples and makes excellent cider. The other strims before we visit and airs the place. They all are cottage gardeners, small holders and have good veg plots and established fruit trees, plus poultry and rabbits. Some keep geese, we've had a few set-tos with these on walks down the lane, fortunately there are only three. Horses, they love horses - mainly for trotting. One has an etang (fish pond) full of large muddy trout. They regard the farmers as paysan, basically ignorant and concerned only with their wallet. Try buying some land off one of them! Once a British family moves into an area, prices move up as they believe more Brits will be coming to be close to their rellies or friends. Last thing I want is Brit neighbours!!
The sense of community is something I've never experienced before.

Rubbish

Well it's not all rosey, what they bury beggar's belief and what they burn annoys the hell out of me. One of the reasons for this is they seem to take inordinate pride in producing one of the smallest bags of rubbish for the dustman to collect. I can see the community walking around the area the night before the dustmen come and viewing everyones offerings. I wonder if there is a weekly prize that we're unaware of. I'm not sure how our three bags go down with the neighbourhood. One or more bags normally consist of bits I have dug up or discovered around the place. We recycle with the best of them, they have a great system. Each commune has a variety of collection bins for glass, plastics, metal and paper/cardboard. The supermarkets also seem to have the same facilities plus they also collect batteries (pils) and some have a bin for old clothes.

Health Service

We've charged into the local doctors a couple of times now and he's always managed to fit us in. Wonderful service but they do love doling out medicines, the last time we were presented with a prescription for five separate items. When I dislocated my hip, unknowingly - well I knew I was in pain. I visited the chiropractor on a recommendation from one of the neighbours and have rarely experienced such exquisite short term pain. And the sense of forboding was just as intense with the expectation of more to come, but I just didn't know when. Splendid service all round, although Monsieur G. had some harsh words and wouldn't necessarily agree. An uncaring surgeon had placed his pace maker where his shotgun butt used to rest. He wasn't amused at my suggestion that he should shoot left-handed.

Passing water

I was happily attempting to converse with one of the neighbours in his garden when he turned round, peed and returned to the conversation. A true Normand, no unnecessary polite excuses, no unnecessary walk to the toilet, in England he probably would have been arrested.

A neighbouring couple visited, in the middle of a conversation about the well, the man turned round, wandered off and found a bush or it might have been the wall of the barn. His partner, a Parisienne looked over disconsolately. He relieved himself and returned to talking about the well.

It's great, I've encouraged my son to wander over to the raspberries (not in fruit) when he feels the urge and not to worry about English values. When in France. Myself I haven't quite mastered it, certainly not in company.

The real reason for all of this is not to fill up the septic tank. All that expensive water, the thought of having your septic tank emptied, it's tres cher to a local. I wouldn't be surprised if they wandered around with a handful of toilet paper or perhaps a dock leaf would do.

The Seasons

Late May / Early June.

Popped down for a week, unannounced to the neighbours, found the grass up to my shoulders. The strimmer wasn't really up to it, too many replacements of plastic filament. Now I understand why the locals have the metal bladed variety. I also understand why Mr G uses a scythe, something I'm going to have to master.

The first strawberries are ready, the raspberry fruits are set, as are the cherries. Next doors (getting the best of the evening sun) are changing to a light orange.

Pear tree dead

Peach leaf curl

Mid to late August.

Most of the strawberries and all of the raspberries have gone.

2006 sees the walnut tree with a reasonable crop.