I’ve often wondered if we don’t miss half the wildlife that come into our garden due to the way the house is positioned: for a great view of the lake you need to be in kitchen. On the other hand it means that the kitchen is rather like a hide and we can spy on visiting creatures without them seeing us.

Yesterday was extra special as it was the first time in quite a while that we had some evening rays of sunshine. The last few days were filled with monotonous rain, heavy downpours accompanied by hailstones, high winds and claps of thunder. Truly Spring in all its glory!

On a happier note we have a Moorhen nesting in the reeds lovingly looked after by hubby Moorhen. This morning I thought I’d take a photo of the lake to show you how it looks before I start my long labour of love and turn it into something very special for the wildlife visiting our garden. Once outside I realised I had the wrong lens on my camera (telephoto) but in fact this turned out to be happy error as I captured Mr Moorhen bringing new nesting material for Mrs Moorhen. Not a brilliant photo but you can see the little reed in his beak!

More ‘baby’ news as we have a couple of Jackdaws nesting in one of our chimney tops. They’ve been a funny couple, falling down our chimney in the early days of nest building. This caused great excitement with the dogs (not to mention the cats) as we’d find one of the Jackdaws perched on a picture frame with soot scattered everywhere. The poor things fell down four times before they got the bottom of the nest right. Cleverly, with their nest so close to the house they’re sneakily taking advantage of the most excellent of bird tables that a kind lady (me) fills with all manner of nice treats every morning. Bed & Breakfast at its best I’d say!

January and February went past in a blink of an eye, as did March, but April slowed down enough for me to sit and think how I was going to sort out the different parts of the garden and of course the lake. With so much wildlife (okay, mainly birds, ducks and the odd Muntjac or two) visiting our garden it seemed a natural step to make it as wildlife friendly as possible – with one proviso – I’d only plant British native plants and make it as bee friendly as I could.

This is when the internet is so wonderful! Sat warmly indoors well away from inclement English weather, I crawled this remarkable tool looking for wildlife plants specialists. I particularly liked The Wildflower Shop, Popular Plants and Burncoose Nurseries where I found exactly what I was looking for – after reading two super books: Gardening for Butterflies, Bees and other beneficial insects by Jan Miller-Klein and The Bee Garden by Maureen Little. As you can imagine, with 5 acres and the lake to contend with, I shall quickly become one of their favoured customers . . .

And with Spring comes babies! Mr & Mrs Duck have just been blessed with 17 gorgeous baby ducklings who are now discovering the delights of playing and paddling around in water. I’ll keep you all posted on their progress.

My Pyracantha bushes trained against our outbuildings

Since my return from France I have a new project: finding the perfect Shortbread recipe. This cooking quest began innocently enough last weekend after Nigel and I had polished off a batch of my mince-pies and again remarked how utterly delicious the pastry was – sort of melt-in-your-mouth like Shortbread.

Naturally, this got me thinking about making my own Shortbread. After delving into my cookbooks and trying out a number of recipes (all unsatisfactory I might add), I then did a Google search and found a super article in The Guardian written by Felicity Cloake entitled: How to make perfect shortbread. So tomorrow I’m going to try out her recipe and will keep you posted (with photograph) of my (hopefully) edible results.

Still in cooking mode, this morning I baked my third Dundee Cake – we ate the other two some time ago (sigh). However, I have a sneaky feeling that I may have to bake another one before Christmas lands on our doorstep as this Dundee Cake will be crying out to be eaten too!

Like any good tradesperson, I believe in using the right tool for the right job and, where cooking is concerned, I’m in 7th heaven. As luck would have it, Norfolk has the largest independent cookshop (The Kitchenary Limited) located in Taverham – which is not quite down the road from us – but nearly. This shop is jam-packed with wonderful utensils, pots & pans I never knew I needed. Thankfully our chimney is nice and wide so Santa won’t have too much of a hard time coming down, laden with a sack-load of cooking paraphernalia for yours truly!

Lest you may think I’m spending most of my waking hours in the kitchen, think again. I’ve also set myself the task of working one hour every day in the garden. How else am I going to work off all my cooking calories? Today I battled with a very thorny and dense Pyracantha bush which grows along the side wall of our outbuildings. Tomorrow I have the pleasure of doing battle again but, knowing how great it is for wildlife, I don’t begrudge the few scars I get while clipping him.

And of course, sandwiched between my cooking and gardening I try and work! Never a dull moment, I can tell you!

Freddy and The Little Fairy - both happy to be back together

Last Friday, 4th November, my best friend Ineke and I drove to France in Thomas (my Range Rover) to pick up the cats: The Boy, Little Fairy and Smiley Cat. Included in that journey was also the overseeing of the final move from Peymeinade when the last bits and pieces of furniture and my outdoor plants would be transported to Belaugh by Tony, our removal man.

Earlier in the week I’d received an email saying that the weather that weekend would not be brilliant in the South of France as heavy rains were forecast.  As it turned out, it was to be far worse – life-threatening in fact!

After our overnight stay in Buchères, Saturday morning found us up early and away in Thomas to complete our journey. As we chatted so the kilometres rolled by and we were soon driving through Lyon. Here we encountered a light rain but the skies told nothing of what was yet to come.

Approaching the outskirts of Toulon we both felt something wasn’t quite right as dark, iron-grey skies and darker Cumulonimbus clouds bubbled up around us. By the time we reached Toulon the heavens opened and we found ourselves in one of the worst storms ever experienced in the Alpes-Maritimes.

Driving became almost impossible as the motorway vanished under a deluge of water and merged with white-out sheets of rain. Spectacular lightening strikes of awesome magnitude hit from all sides as cracks of thunder blasted our senses. It was simply awesome – and incredibly scary.

Amazingly, we made it through the storm and arrived in Chateauneuf-de-Grasse where our Campanile hotel was booked. It rained continuously throughout the night with more thunderstorms thrown in for good measure. Sunday dawned and it was still hammering down. We arrived in Peymeinade to further thunderstorms – but which magically stopped as Tony arrived with his van – and my last move was done under clear skies.

And they were still clear when Ineke and I arrived to pick up the cats on the Monday – although we had to walk to the cattery as their road had been completely washed away, leaving jarring crevices no car – not even Thomas – could negotiate.

Ineke say’s she’ll write a book some day about our many adventures and while we’ve had some pretty amazing ones – I think this one tops the lot.

The cats are now here in Belaugh and none the worse after their six-week stay in the cattery and their two day drive in Thomas. However I do wonder, if like the Pope, they didn’t kiss the ground when they arrived  – thankful to be warm and safe – and home.

This is how it looked when we first arrived in Belaugh

Once the workmen had emptied and cleaned the lake

How our lake looks now.

It took the workmen (three of them) just under a week to empty the lake, clear all the bulrushes and refill it.

Needless to say Freddy couldn’t resist taking a closer look and returned covered from top to tail in sticky, vile, smelly mud. Thankfully, Bertie was much more sensible (well, he would be wouldn’t he?) and steered clear of it, mooching around on the soft grass to his heart’s content – something he’s not seen or had for over a year!

Once spring is here I’ll work on adding bog plants and water lilies as I’d like to encourage more wildlife. I’m told that otters used to visit – perhaps our smart new lake may entice them back.

The Mallards and Moorhens seem happy with the way the lake is now and in fact, we seem to have more of them splashing around. Even the local heron has come round to inspect it, finding the odd eel here and there.

As per the plan, I’d taken the dogs the day before to our vets in Chateauneuf-de-Grasse to be inspected, flea, tick and tape worm treated. Passports were duly completed, timed, stamped and signed. The clock was now ticking as we had a ‘window’ of not less than 24 hours but not more than 48 hours to drive through France and reach the Control Zone in Calais.

Our journey was identical to our two previous ones – only this time we had to contend with extremely strong gusty winds, from Aix-en-Provence onwards and steady rain (but thankfully abated winds) as we reached Lyon and which continued throughout our  entire journey up to Calais.

After an overnight stay at our usual Premiere Class hotel outside of Troyes, we continued our drive towards Calais, reaching the French Pet Travel Control Building shortly before mid-day.

A large black paw print on a yellow background to the right of the Eurotunnel check-in point and passenger terminal building helped direct us in the right direction.

Parking in the designated area we took the two dogs for a short walk around the grassed exercise area before entering the control point building. I honestly expected to be greeted by white-coated vet-like personnel but instead found two typical French ‘fonctionnaires’ well cocooned behind their desks.

After an initial ‘Bonjour’, I handed over the passports and the desk clerk began to enter the details into their computer system. After being asked which Shuttle we were booked on, I was then passed the chip reader to scan both dogs. Not once did the clerk leave her desk to look or inspect the dogs.

With doggy details now in their computer system we were handed a printed paper with the date and time the control was done along with a reference code, the number and type of animals. All hand-written I might add . . .

Interestingly, both dogs dealt with the journey totally differently. Bertie hid most of the time under the blanket on the back seat, while Freddy sat peering through the window, captivated by the moving scenery and traffic. He never slept or rested his eyes but sat upright alert – ready to take on the world.

Needless to say – who’s a very (very) tired boy now?

My main worry was that we’d capture one of them in full sight of the other – who would then freak out and do a runner on us. With only three days to go (we’re leaving this coming Saturday), my fingers (and toes) stayed well crossed.

As it happened, we captured Ginger first in one of Leslie Frasier’s larger capture cages. Nigel hid behind the kitchen door and as soon as I saw the cat well inside the cage, he pulled the string et voilà!

A couple of hours later it was the turn of Percy.

Yesterday evening we met with Leslie and did the hand-over. It was a sad moment (I do wish I wasn’t so soppy) as I tried to hold back the tears, telling myself that we were picking them up in January and to stop being so silly and upset. But I was – upset that is.

The dogs are now back with us and enjoying being home. I feel like God for the moment as I know the adventure that awaits them and they don’t. Odd feeling!

After we filmed this property last Thursday, there was little doubt in my mind that sunset and sunrise from there would be spectacular. I therefore asked if we could return a few days later to film these two events – which is how I came to wake up myself to this stunning view.

At my feet lay the entire French Riviera and vastness of the Mediterranean Sea and above me an immense unblemished sky as far as my eye could see. This view would have moved me at the best of times but it was particularly emotional as this is my last week of living on the French Riviera and so, as it turned out, I was able to bid a discreet and sad farewell to a much beloved region before I departed.

Packing has now started in earnest and I am yet again surprised at how much there is still to box up. Yesterday I did all the DVDs, books and magazines – today I’m packing up my office- tomorrow I’m making a start on the kitchen.

We have now set up the capture cages for Percy and Ginger and with luck these two rascals will be captured in time to hand over to Leslie Frasier (Les Chats du Mercantour) tomorrow evening as she is kindly looking after them until we come to pick them up in January.

Watch this space!

Once in Peymeinade we set about assembling our gear to film what turned out to be a most delightful villa situated high up in the hills over-looking Tourrettes-sur-Loup.  As I mentioned in my previous scribbles, Christine Davis of Chrisma Estate Agents had asked if we could film the property for her and take photos for inclusion in Belles Demeures‘s website.

Currently on the market for (a meagre) €2,200,000 there is no doubt that this is a beautiful villa with exceptional sea views and as soon as I saw the horizon pool I knew there was a photo opportunity just calling out to be done.

“No worries” Nigel happily chirped up. “I’ll go in”. He strips off (we forgot to bring our swim suits) and jumps in. “Yikes, it’s a bit chilly” Nigel mutters through clenched teeth. “You poor old thing”, I reply with a wry smile, “I could have sworn it was a heated pool. The things we do for our art – absolutely no holds barred, eh?”

And of course you know me, I simply couldn’t resist taking a sneaky shot of Nigel in the pool and plastering it for the world to see . . .