Grape buds

These buds will become flowers and, in turn, grape bunches. Provided that a freeze doesn't stop them from developing. So far, so good. Our morning lows have struggled back upward reducing the risk of a damaging freeze. After a couple more weeks we should be clear of frost danger.

Future wine.

Tasha has gained a little weight, so the vet said to keep an eye on her and try to reduce her caloric intake. She's already on a diet kibble for her daily lunch meal after a breakfast of half a small pouch of wet food mixed with grated zucchini. I guess we've been a little too loose with scraps and tid-bits from our own cooking. No more! We can't risk her weight contributing to another torn ligament.

Wet weekend ahead

Looks like rain will be moving in later today and staying with us through the weekend. So much for getting more grass cut. I did the north forty yesterday afternoon, so at least there's that. As usual, it was much easier to cut the second time than the first.

I'm just a dandy lion.

Tasha has her annual vet visit this afternoon. A quick checkup and her shots and that'll be that for another year. Next month she has a grooming appointment. It will be six months since her last grooming, probably a month or two too long. I need to get her into a four month schedule. She's looking like a clydesdale around the ankles.

The inside scoop

The inside of a tulip, that is. The two volunteer tulips out back are close to loosing their petals now. I'll miss them.

One of two volunteer tulips in the back yard.

I'm ready for some warmer weather. I built a fire in the wood stove yesterday and that helped to take the chill off. I might do it again today.

Les ancolies

These are columbine, I believe. Ancolies in French. Pink ones like this, and others that are blue, come up every year in our daisy patch. This year there are fewer of them than usual, and I don't see any blue ones yet.

Ancolies.

Our friend and neighbor, Bernard, was laid to rest in our local cemetery yesterday. The ceremony was sober and brief. I teared up a bit when the casket was lowered into the ground. At the end, attendees were invited to sprinkle rose petals on the casket, a custom in France but not one that I remember back in the US. Bernard's family hosted a reception afterward at their house across the road from us. A very nice affair, filled with memories and laughter. There must have been thirty or so cars parked all around. It was good to see people we've met over the years but haven't seen in a while. Among them, a young woman, one of Bernard's many granddaughters, who remembered us from when she was four years old.

La glycine

Our wisteria is in full bloom, so I thought I should get some photos before the blossoms fade away. I think I just made it. I've forgotten when we planted it, but it's been a while. It grows very well where it is, a western exposure, and I have to trim it back almost every year. One day I'll try to tackle a drastic pruning, but not without doing some research fist. I don't want to kill it.

Wisteria flowers in Monday's low morning light.

The grape growers in our immediate area don't seem to be too worried about today's frost threat. There's no sign of smudge pots or anything else out there. I can hear the fans blowing in the vineyards up north of the river. They sound like helicopters in the distance, except that they never get closer or farther away. They keep the air moving around the vines to help prevent freezing air from settling in.

Ten years ago this week

Ten years ago it was 2014. Already. How is that possible? Bert the black cat was already here for four years then, comfortable in his "new" territory. There were a few more trees on the property then. That big apple on the left didn't have much time remaining when this picture was taken.

Spring was lush and green, much like this year, in April of 2014.

Ken's plum tree, the dark red tree behind Bert, was smaller than it is today, but had already grown to this size from a pit. Callie the border collie was still with us but was already seven years old. Tasha wouldn't be born for a few years yet.

Plowed

This is a curious parcel of land. I think it was bare for a while but, for the past few years, it's been plowed and planted. With what, I couldn't tell you. It looks like potato plants, but then I've never seen an actual potato around harvest time. There's no irrigation except what falls from the sky.

The parcel is plowed twice each spring. The second plowing breaks up all those big clumps.

Our outdoor thermometer reads 4ºC (about 39ºF) this morning. The central heat is on inside the house. The predicted high temperature is 10º. I still haven't lit a fire in the wood stove, but that might change.