Work is underway, as you can see, at chez nous. We always have a bit of a rush at this time of year to get the garden up to scratch. Gay has a splendid vegetable garden but, as we tend to be out of the country until the end of April, things are a bit behind when we arrive home. My job is to keep the grass under control and to assist with any heavy lifting. Not to mention trying to repair the ravages from about ten thousand moles and the odd herd of cows or horses which somehow get into the garden. This year it was horses and although, unlike the cows, they did not snap our teenage fig trees off at ground level, their hooves have left some significant pot-holes (or nids de poules - chicken nests, as the French call them).
This year we have an added incentive to tidy up not only the garden, but the house, because we have put the property on the market with the intention of moving, in our dotage, to an apartment in Narbonne, 110 kms to the East.
The third picture, the pinnacle of our gable, shows, we believe, the face of Napoleon Bonaparte. The house was allegedly built by a drum major in Napoleon's Grande Armée.
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