Journal Friday August 15th 2025

Morning all, I’m in the usual spot. I’ve just posted the Moulin Rouge blog that I’ve been meaning to write forever, I’ve had a coffee and the sun is galloping up the field at an alarming rate. Another 37 degree day is on the cards.

It’s also Ascension day, so a French bank holiday, and the hubs has “taken the bridge” so has booked Monday off too for a nice long weekend. Rather than spend it sat in the dark again (I feel I’m losing my mind), I think we’re going to go to our local swimming baths outdoor pool for a bit. Hubs likes the relative quiet of the indoor pool, while every else is outside. I however, make a play for a sun lounger outside (shade at all costs), and just bob about. There are 2 lanes roped off for swimming outside, and If they’re empty then I’ll go do 20 or 30 lengths. I’m not fast so I don’t want to hold anyone else up. Failing that I’ll sort of swim from side to side in various diagonals to avoid the kids, and inflatables and balls etc. Along one end is a jacuzzi section which springs to life every 10 minutes or so, so I’ll bob in and out of there when the time comes. There are sun loungers all around the perimeter and you can take a beach bag with you, water, a book, your headphones etc. It’s almost like having a little holiday. I found out why men have to wear speedo style trunks instead of swim shorts in most public pools yesterday by the way. It’s for hygiene purposes, as men (the dirty filthy pigs), might be tempted to wear a pair of baggy swim shorts all day, and it could contaminate the water with dust and general unsanitaryness. Who knew? To be fair, I haven’t seen any menfolk in Speedos in my local Carrefour (and I’ve looked), so there must be some logic to this approach.

Figs has appeared with her whiskers covered in cobwebs. I decide to operate a don’t ask don’t tell policy.

Our now solo pigeon (thanks to Barney), is still singing the songs of his people somewhere close by. Makes me very sad that he’s by himself/herself.

I cannot wait for the weather to change. we have our first ever BBQ that we’re hosting for our French neighbours a week today, and the medium term forecast is for rain. Entirely unhelpful. We’re freaking out anyway, because of our general embarrassing French, but they are very kind and patient people, and it’s a bit of a thank you for always making us feel so welcome and included at village functions. Our closest neighbour arrived with a huge bowl full of Mirabelle plums last week bless her, so I made a batch of plum and ginger jam. On another red hot day, while batting away wasps. Has anyone else had a recent wasp infestation? We had probably less than a week where despite best efforts there were a good dozen in the house at any one time. Despite trying to discourage them, we had to resort to the spray in the end, one of them stung Freya. We think she stood on it accidentally but you’d think she’d stood on a land mine. Our failed hunting dog is somewhat less than brave bless her.

Checked the trail cam and plenty of badger and fox activity overnight. It always amazes me how early the fox will start his rounds. You can see our house lights are still on and there he is at just 10.30pm skulking about.

I’m enjoying reading about all the baby animals we’ll see at the ZooParc de Beauval soon. Baby giant otters with ludicrously webbed toes, and a baby giraffe. Super cute! After a few weeks of dark shuttered isolation, a few days away seems like an absolute treat. It’s only 2.1/4 hours from us, so it’s not a long slog in the car either, which again feels right. Oh, and I might be 50 soon too, so all the feelings that come with that. Aging is a privilege, so I’m not going to lament the crows feet and the crepey neck. But I know I’ll think a lot about the people that can’t be here to celebrate with me, and it’s my first birthday without Mum too, so a few things to navigate. And navigate them we will.

• I had finished writing for today, laptop closed and about to head back inside, when the most wondrous thing happened. I heard the swallows, chirping and chirruping overhead, and I thought, lovely, our nesting pair and this years 2 chicks are out and about. I looked up and there were 50 or so, swirling and swooping and chirruping all around me. I shouted hubs and as he stuck his head out of the kitchen window they all swooped by close to his face. Our nesting pair live in the rafters of our barn and swoop in and out underneath our grapevine. This happens every year, the big group converge in August ready to think about their winter migratory plans. I shall as ever miss them when they go, and look forward to their return next year. It’s almost like they drop off our 2 and see them off, just like they are collecting them again now. I know swallows are in decline, so if you’re lucky enough to have them, do try to attract insects to your garden. Plant pollinators, leave water, make sure they have safe habitats and the odd rotting tree trunk to play in. Hopefully these cheerful wonders will come back to visit you too.

Today’s featured image is brought to you via AI, using the sentence, swimming pool and swallows flying. And the number 12. This blog is a production of the Children’s Television Network.

TTFN,

V x

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