Barthez the ex-fish

We are sad to announce that Barthez the Blackmoor died last night. He'd been swimming in a very lacklustre fashion and eventually looked so unwell that Ali did the decent thing and put him in the freezer. (We'd read that was the kindest way to put goldfish out of their misery - I hope so)

I'd grown very fond of the little chap who looked more like a black cat than a goldfish, so it's sad not to see him there any more. I think he was blind and was just not finding food like the others - but unfortunately I noticed too late.

There, I told you fish were stressful.

All our guests are leaving today, so we have a big changeover to do before the next ones. We have just over a week until the end of the season, so my fingers are crossed that the rain will hold off until October.

Normal service resumed

Jessica, Ali & Christophe

Well, we woke up this morning to clear blue skies. No more silver linings needing to be invented as the forecast clouds had rolled on by. Two of our guests this week were Christophe and the photographer, Jessica Antola, who's been commissioned by the American magazine "Travel + Leisure" to shoot various locations in the Languedoc. To our amazement Le Couvent was one of them.
"When's the best light to shoot the house?" she asked yesterday. "First thing in the morning," said Lizzie peering gloomily into the thick skies.
Jessica doesn't just take photographs, she makes art. Talented and lovely with it, I reckon the world can't help but smile with her. Today the sun couldn't resist her either and rose with a grin on its face.
Happiness all round.
She started snapping.

The guests are lizarding beside the pool now, and we can't wait to see what Jessica saw.

Thank you, our Lady on the roof.

It's raining.

Yes, it's raining. I can't believe it. We have had no rain for months on end and today our guests have decided to go to the beach. Jeez, they'll drown, poor souls. I explained that they did not need to stay away if it rained. We're not like normal B&B's. They could come home and read, or play table tennis, or practice their ballroom dancing (they're experts) or I could give them a box of acrylics, some easels, brushes and board & see how they get on. I do hope they're not miserable.

I'm thrilled however. No garden watering to do and I have the perfect excuse to stay in and update our many websites - including a new one which will give info on stuff to do, see and eat here.

End of the season

We have just three weeks to go before the end of our season here at Le Couvent. It's been great. We've met so many new and lovely people. I'm constantly amazed that we haven't had any absolute rotters come to stay. Everyone's been completely charming and a real, real pleasure to have in our home.

Next week we have a fab photographer Jessica Antola coming to take photos of Le Couvent and surroundings for a piece for Travel + Leisure magazine. Her photos look absolutely wonderful so I can't wait to see what she makes of these beautiful old walls.

It's bright and gorgeously sunny again today. All our guests have gone off to Pezenas market. I'm going to do some weeding.

More fish

So there I was in the pet shop, looking for a tank, when three more fish tapped me on the shoulder and implored me to take them home. So now we have five. Honda & Barthez have been joined by Rula (flowing red tail), Kipper (looks like one) and Tabloid (red-top on white body).

I'm told goldfish are soothing. Well my stress levels have gone through the roof because I've read too much about keeping fish. I fear they have every disease possible, that I've got too many for the tank, that they'll be diseased, that the water has no oxygen, that I'll over/under feed them, that they'll be bored. All this because I was given two goldfish for my birthday. Nothing's ever simple is it?

Oysters and lamb

Yesterday was a real treat. I was given a bike computer to go with my new birthday bike. I know I'm 54, but I like gizmos. I was also given two goldfish in a round bowl with lots of bright blue stones in the bottom. Now the computer bit I can do, but I'm a bit flummoxed with the fish - Barthez the Blackmoor, after the French goalkeeper who always wears black and has similarly bulbous eyes - and A Fish called Honda who is a Ryukin I think, from the pictures on Google. I can't bear to see them swimming in circles bored stiff, so I'm off to the pet shop for a new house, filter, playthings and art for the fish as soon as M. Lafitte's delivered 500 litres of oil for the boiler.

Frankly the best bit of yesterday was watching Josh, my 14 year old nephew, wolfing down oysters. I don't think that would have been on the cards if he was still living in Southampton. Poppy my niece couldn't be tempted by anything spookier than a prawn. I'm disowning her.


It's a day for wildlife. Each morning I cycle in the vineyards with the dogs. I have attachments on my bike to which the dogs are harnessed, so that I can keep both hands on the handlebars. This morning at 7am I decided to take a slightly different route with them, and whilst cycling along quite merrily we came upon a good number of chickens. Flynn the Husky's seen off two of our hens, so I was very wary. Whilst trying to cycle on through and discourage Flynn from taking up the chase I realised I could hear a plaintive bleating. I looked round to find a tiny lamb hacking along behind us as though we were his long-lost family. And behind him was his mother looking like we were lunch. Suffice it to say that a momentous tussle and a great deal of swearing saw Kit the Labradorable and Flynn and I on our way again leaving all the wildlife behind us. A different route tomorrow eh?

It's my birthday...

...so the good camera's developed a fault which means it has to go back for repair in England. That means we're down to using the camera that failed in Guana but was revived by bashing it. So sorry about the quality for a while.

I love this time of year here. It's full speed ahead on the grape harvest (le vendange) so the misty early mornings are full of tiny tractors whizzing about ferrying grapes to various places. The grapes are either picked by hand if they're smart wines or by huge machines which straddle the vines and tease off the grapes with mechanical fingers.

Justin, my brother, and our friends have been doing their bit helping mates pick their grapes. The chemists are selling industrial quantities of special ointment for agonised backs. The best bit of grape-picking seems to be the luscious lunch many of the kinder domaines put on for their pickers. I'm almost tempted.

However, as it's my birthday I get to choose supper. As usual I've gone for gazillions of local shellfish. So this morning we went off to Meze to buy oysters, palourdes, mussels, bulots, violets, crabs, prawns and extra oyster shuckers as Justin, his wife and my niece and nephew are coming for a messy supper. Yummmmmm.

Here's Nicola from La Maison Verte looking suitably peasant-like whilst grape-picking.

and Christa from Domaine Bourdic

Kit the Dog

We have two dogs. Kit, a labradorable for whom I paid rather too much money believing her to be a real Labrador when she's patently crossed with a ferret. And Flynn the Husky, who Ali bought when the garden centre didn't have the wheelbarrow we'd actually gone for. Kit has a passion for food. Any kind of food. I'm told to exercise portion control for her, which I do - religiously. However, what am I to do when the vineyards are currently ankle deep in figs, which she loves, and grapes, which she munches straight from the vines? That's not counting the almonds that are carefully crunched out of their shells, and the blackberries that are hoovered from their spiky branches. She's a happy girl on it though.

I love the change in seasons

One of the most wonderful things about living here is that we have real seasons. Having had a fantastic summer, it now feels slightly autumnal. There's a real nip in the air in the mornings and during the night. Don't get me wrong, it's still warm enough to use the pool, the days are a good 26 degrees and we can still take a glass of wine outside in the evening.

It's just that sense of change that made me order 4 steres of wood earlier this week. It didn't come at the best time since I had just had a wonderful relaxing massage and then had to move it all by hand - rather counteracting the benefits of the massage. Nevertheless I'm thrilled that it's here and stacked before the rains come. It's the first time we've managed to order it soon enough. Wonderful, no lugging sodden logs up to the woodburner, only to have them fizzle slowly and produce lots of tar and precious little heat.