8. Dog walks
After our lunch of foraged-herb soup (mostly nettles), croque monsieur, elderberry wine, and apple cake, Sylvia invited me to take a walk with the dogs to see some of the vines and fruit trees that overlook Réville aux Bois, a neighboring village.
Pin, an excited black and white collie mutt, led her companion, Largos, up and down the trails as Sylvia and I followed them up the hill behind the property. Sylvia noted that when Michel first got Pin, Largos couldn’t keep up after 100 meters. He would collapse and refuse to carry on with the youthful pup. His breed is somewhere between a Labrador and mule with Rottweiler coloring. Though twice the size of Pin and sporting two extra toes on his hind legs, Largos still trots with elegance.
On our walk through the still-bare branched beech trees, Sylvia and I chatted about the principles of permaculture, and I shared my dreams to build my own estate. I confessed I had to keep myself from getting too excited about the animals I’d keep and the vegetables I’d grow all encircling a great custom house that I’d build. I had to have patience. “That’s true,” she replied “and when you are able to calm your eagerness, that is when opportunities will present themselves.” I agreed.
It reminded me of some wisdom I got from my uncle, Jason, when I asked him where I could find a good deal on a nice used bicycle. “Well what I do is try to be a good person. Then wait.” Solid advice.
The dogs broke out in a sprint when they found a fox in the trail. I didn’t think they’d catch it, but when Sylvia and I rounded the bend, the dogs had the fox backed into a corner, baring it’s teeth. Fortunately for the fox, we were able to call off the dogs, and it retreated deeper into the woods. We continued on
Cresting the hill, Sylvia mentioned that it’s easier to build the kind of homestead you want when you have a partner who shares the same vision. I could see that she and Michel still had a long way to go before that vision was actualized but that they would eventually get there.
Sylvia and Michel and found each other later in life after they both had children, grandchildren, and divorces. She had left her home in Belgium five years ago in favor of the French countryside, and he had moved back to Ecurey en Verdunois to care for his aging parents. They lived next door to the house that Sylvia had bought, and Michel would come over to help her with “the man’s work”.
The view opened up on the south side of the hill. Standing at the end of a plateau, we could see the village below along with several other villages within sight, each tucked in to rolling hills. We sat to give appropriate attention to the view. Sylvia told me that the fruit on this slope once belonged to Michel’s family. She wishes she could buy it.. no, once she wished to buy it, but didn’t have the cash. She admires this land, but is happy with what she has. I was directed to the fig trees and the best cherry trees that would begin to fruit early this summer. Always looking for wild herbs, Sylvia bent down to pick up a kind of wild garlic and handed it to me. It tasted like garlic that had lost its sharpness being slowly cooked in butter. On our return, we talked about the potential plans for this weekend. She suggested we take a Sunday trip to Verdun to see some of the WWI memorials, then stop by the foire in Damville to check out some of the local products being sold in the market. So, that’s the plan.
When we’d returned, Michel had finished putting up the temporary fence we’d started to create an avenue for the sheep. Today we led the ewes out to the pasture so they could be milked tomorrow. Then, they’ll need to move from the pasture to the barn. With the buck goat separated from the his does and the lambs away from their mothers, there are endless calls to comfort and to be comforted from both sides of the property.
I’m excited, because tomorrow we get to start the cheesemaking process. Sylvia has granted my request to make some bread. It will be good to be back in the kitchen. I am also feeling appreciated for what I’m contributing to the farm.
That’s all for now. I’ll talk more about the work here and post some photos early next week.
Á bientôt.
Clayton