I am late the party, but much appreciated this post.
Yesterday and Wednesday, we saw our first significant rain for the last month and more, even then only 1". Very glad to hear of your release from dangerous heat and fire! Everything takes the chance to sing, in the car and so on. Smile.
We well remember our son's heading off for his first long time away from home. The unforgettable mixed look on his face when finally seated on the long distance bus...
Have wondered why 'American Pie' might be infamous... 'The day the music died' .... got it about right I thought when I first heard it those years ago. Later I found some old vinyl LPs serendipitously in a shop and introduced our children still at a fairly early age in the 80s to some classic rock'n roll, and to Buddy Holly. We also played some tapes in the old car going camping. They liked them at that stage.
PS Interested in artichokes, two kinds; lovely thought having them grow round you.
Hello dear Philip, nobody is ever late to my parties, they are always an endless song and dance, that you turn up at all is my delight.
Rainfall, hmm... as seems to be the norm with this climatic disorderly change, feast or famine seem to be the word of the season (every season). We have now had sufficient rain, not only to douse the fires, a relief, to fill the well, cistern and rain butts to overflowing, also a relief but also to soak into the moss on the roof to such an alarming extent water is now seeping into the house - 'be careful what you wish for' comes to mind!
Seth has now returned, filled with café and street chatter and an idea of being worldly, a joy to listen to and yet still he is the boy who was mistaken about dates for his return to the Lycée, had to be collected not an hour later... so perhaps not quite worldly enough which suits this maman, not quite ready to lose her last child just yet, just fine!
Ahh American Pie, I remember my parents also had the vinyl LP, played, volume up, which was never as loud as anything we might hear spilling from any music box these days but the notes and the lyrics, 'did you write the book of love' somehow stayed with me. I believe at some point a transition to cassette tapes enabled sing-alongs in the car too, a jolly time never forgotten, although my Papa had far too many Sydney Bechet and Louis Armstrong jazz tapes for my young ears. Funny how our ears change...
I have only the Jerusalem artichokes, to my absolute chagrin, though they grow in abundance not 50 metres away in a neighbours garden, the far more delicate Globe artichoke stubbornly refuses to take hold despite my years and years of gentle persuasion.
Sending blessings from my little corner to yours my friend.
Old roofs, young hearts, that is the way, I guess, even when the deluge is in the now. Our record 50 year / floods / storms / droughts and heat arrive per decade I guess.
I ponder the 'big ag' harvests round us; the machinery is as big now and swift as can be afforded with any profit, and capable of snatching harvests when before it would have been impossible. The bread wheat and the malting barley, and the oil seed for animal feed depend essentially on the modern fuel and its industries, which kind of returns us to the climate.
Here we are in a Nitrate Vulnerable Zone, which means farming legally must restrict the out flow of soil nutrients from our fragile soil into the river if we are to safeguard the Northumberland coast. This year locally they have harvested the wheat and sown directly, at some cost, a green autumn crop to be turned in before spring sowing, which will help also with floods and droughts. Farming at the edge?
Good for Seth, I hope he is not too discombobulated. Our boy Danny was that bit older at 18 'leaving small town' as well as family, leaving school to work in Germany, a while mostly with children travelling with parents camping on their journeys. For a moment, mercy I thought, as we, mama, small sister and me waved goodbye, a generation leaving without a gun on his back!
So summer still reverberating, moon growing higher, deer tracks cross the stubble, much to do with apples, a Village Show tomorrow, Ann's 'traditional' entries, the baked loaf, the painting, and our youngest, now the story teller, at a festival in Oxford no less, in a tent re-proofed from the cupboard. Sing along book of love, or like Grieve/McDiarmid leaning in to the wireless hiss and crackle, tuned by Shetland, hearing 'Beiderbecke's cornet/As beautiful as any phrase can be', up there with Bechet, the note with no funeral. ('Island Funeral' 1939.)
Dear Philip, how I miss village shows as you describe them... and deer tracks in the stubble too, here the land is not left long enough for any animal to tarry, the crops are cut, the earth is dragged over with, yes a machine so wide and efficient it must be folded, mechanically of course, into three for transporting and replanted within days of harvesting.
I have been reading on soil deficits, water, nutrients, the fauna likely to indicate what deficiency is what. Not surprisingly, wild chicory and wild carrot grow in abundance over every slope, in the past I have always admired such a flower show, now I look on in horror...
Farming on the edge indeed, the edge of reason?
"For a moment, mercy I thought, as we, mama, small sister and me waved goodbye, a generation leaving without a gun on his back!" Good grief... 🙏🏼
Instead of winter crops sown this year (same machines) they 'disced' and drilled into the stubble and litter with a green crop mixture. It will put a little extra and much needed humus (carbon) in the ground. They can just about keep doing this while the energy / machinery is there and pays for itself.
All may yet not be lost on your hill slopes. I put a query to Google and got the AI reply.
Q "Can wild chicory and wild carrot help bring up soil nutrients from deeper in soil and begin to replenish top soil and its structure?"
I got this overview summary (with more detail):
A "Yes, wild chicory and wild carrot, with their deep taproots, can help improve soil by bringing nutrients from deeper layers to the topsoil, enhancing soil structure by breaking up compacted soil, and adding organic matter when they decompose, making them beneficial for later cultivation. These deep-rooted plants act as a natural form of subsoiling, creating channels that improve aeration and water infiltration, which supports soil biology and fertility." Could be right! smile.
PS My cousin Dennis 8y older than me was in Korea. I am glad I missed.
Dear Philip, I too am most heartily glad you missed too, though deeply sorry for your brother Dennis.
Unfortunately for the land here, there are three problems, the first: the soil is shallow, bedrock sits less than 50 cm below its entirely sloped surface, which means tap roots of any plant needing deep soil, usually have stunted roots which don't perform in a manner that nourishes. The second: cattle dung is the only fertiliser used. Cattle here are fed silage in quantities that make my eyes water, literally. Considering the vast array of additives to begin and then halt fermentation of the hay used to make the silage (ammonia, formaldehyde) the damage it might eventually cause the soil is terrifying. I am certain you are already more knowledgeable than I on this subject... The third: the land is never left to rest, that which is flat enough to harvest cereals, mostly used for feeding ever growing herds of cattle, are seeded twice a year.
I have, on several occasions tried to speak to the farmer of more organic and environmentally kind processes, he smiles and agrees but nothing changes. It seems both I and the soil are destined to suffer. :-(
Your details make sense. Soil is the basis for farming, and carbon content (humus) vital to maintain fertility. It is possible to continue farming using NPK out of the bag, but soil quality, both water holding and drainage will suffer as carbon content declines from over cultivation. Building, not reducing, carbon in a deepening top soil is a good way to face the future. There is a move across Europe by some farms to invest in 'regenerative' farming to build soil more capable of facing exactly these weather extremes from changing climate. I read in a leading science journal the other day of these 'grass roots' (sic) efforts.
I am not a farmer but have the science background. The fields round us are mostly arable, and they do fairly simple checks on soil quality these days and even count the earthworms. Apparently there are simple checks on feed / forage quality for cattle easily done by examining dung. And if the animals are dunging on the grass it ought to be possible to check whether insects and other invertebrates are colonising the dung in the proper manner. If they are, it seems a reasonable check on toxics that are not breaking down?
I think it is a very good idea that more and more people think about these issues especially in their local region.
Thanks again... yours is a beautiful and inspiring place.
I'm so glad your hill is cooling and greening a little. You evoke the place so exquisitely, I feel I know it and you've made me care about it. I hope after sleep and the other generous comments her that you won't let unsolicited advice of the rudest kind impact your confidence. Those comments don't reflect on you. You are not 'emoting', you are inviting readers in, taking us on a journey and delivering us somewhere new with honesty as well as beautifully crafted language. And I'm so delighted to have found you.
Good morning Jan, Thank you for your, so very appreciated, kind encouragement and support my dear, dear friend, I know I have said this before but I wish we lived closer - you would have undoubtedly found me sobbing on your doorstep last Sunday morning begging calming herbs and hugs.
I cannot deny the impact such a cruel and unsolicited comment had but on hindsight, if there is ever a good day to be harshly criticised that was it, the day before 'La rentrée'! I have had neither time or inclination to dwell on anything other than class related tears and upsets, all of which, coming from small voices have been so much higher on the ladder of importance than my own this week.
This morning, though I cannot forgive rudeness, ever, the bruises are healed and as soon as I have finished replying to every kindness offered, I will brush off the dust of shattered confidence and begin again with a smile and as much passion for writing as ever. Perhaps more!
Sending you blessings for a beautiful weekend with love xx
Hi Louise, I so hope rain arrived in your part of the world? We have had plenty now, dare I say, even, a few dry days would be much appreciated? I know, I know, there is no pleasing some people is there?
I am sitting in the quiet of my kitchen, with a small glass of my dearly beloved's elderflower wine in hand, feeling completely disoriented by the first week back in classes, deafened by noise and all the usual back to school problems after the summer break, wondering how two months can fly by and feel like a week when after returning for only one week feels like two months? And, I am not alone, 'when are the next holidays?' was the question on all our minds as we left, bedraggled and exhausted already, this evening.
The château is very beautiful isn't it, almost entirely original too. A gem! But an expensive one! I am terrified property developers will be the only likely buyers, especially as the land is rented already and will be for the next five years at least, and, first option to buy will be given to them, making the possibility of a traditional working farm with a home on the land almost impossible. I shudder to think what will become of it.
Love and hugs back to you and your furries too.. xxx
Susie, M works at a local elementary school. They started the fall semester last Monday. She, too, is feeling exactly how you are. After one week, ready for vacation. The first week is the hardest, I think. Whether you are meeting new students or continuing back to the same ones (the school year starts in April in Japan), it's getting back into the routine and the schedule of prep, marking, tests - just part of the job - that takes a few days to get used to again.
Yes, we had rain! Plenty of it yesterday. And morning temps have dropped, so we can open the windows and let in some fresh air. A few more days of 36° ahead, but it's already feeling less oppressive.
Keeping all appendages crossed that someone worthy inhabits the chateau and maintains it well. x
Indeed, the routine is hard to grasp after so long a holiday, the noise, all the little squabbles and upsets too. I am certain teaching never used to be quite such a rollercoaster ride though. Maybe this is directly linked to age? In more ways than one!
I am so glad you have had some rain... 36c is still unbearable though when there is no opportunity to find a cool shady place to just be still. Please tell M I am thinking of her, here, at least it is now cool again - a blessing.
I will be watching the cars that drive past us on the lane, they are few, usually I know each of the occupants, if any look like developers, in swanky top end vehicles I may just ask the pig farmer at the bottom to come spread a little muck 'à côté'! 😉
I will be sure to let you know - enjoy your weekend dear one xx
Dearest Susie … isn’t it always the way that the sound of one foghorn has sufficient raucous and grating volume to pierce the melody of gentle waves lapping on the shore. Sorry to be a little late in offering my appreciative drops into the ocean of compliments your writing garners (and deserves). I conjured all manner of sharply-phrased retorts to the ill-mannered and uninvited pedant who trampled so unkindly amidst the undergrowth of your forests of beautiful words … but I am, like I hope you might, walking on by, concentrating instead on the creator not the critic. Hugs from us.
Dear Barrie, you are such a marvellous guiding friend, one I am deeply grateful for. I guess there will always be waves rolling in when we least expect them, waves that are more violent than we imagine, waves that wipe us out, waves that cause a holding of our breath while we tumble, disoriented in the murky depths of white water. I should have remembered that from past lessons both metaphorical and real! I was a rubbish surfer but I never gave up and I am not about to here either, despite injuries!
My thanks to you always, I hope your trip is one that will mark this special year of your life with memories that never fade. Enjoy every second. xx
Thank you for another luminous post, Susie. It seems just a few moments ago that you were writing about the start of the summer break. Now "la rentrée" is here. I hope the autumn begins well.
Thank you Jeffrey, La Rentrée had all the usual chaotic bedlam of a first day back at school knitted into a very long day, at the end all of us looked woefully dishevelled and relieved it was over but there were no tears from either us or the students so I am calling it a good beginning! 48 days to Autumn break, and counting!
“After rain, I feel like survival is at last a possibility.“
Curious isn’t it, once the rain finally came, washing, cleansing and nourishing our little piece of world, we too are satiated.
A beautiful but melancholy ode to Summer. Here’s to Autumn hues, the soft browns of the swaying fields, birds gathering to discuss flight plans and whispering their good byes to your hill. I hope you can hear them.🍁🍂
“Recently and often, I worry I feel less than I should, less empathy, less kindness, less gentleness, less love, less light, less dark, less beauty.”
Ah, never fall prey to your worries, sometimes they carry a bit of Loki the trickster, talking you into thinking you are a lesser version than your true self. And one more thing, embedded in your comment to Jonathan; What is that you said about someone critiquing your writing, HARSH WORDS?📣! ( I am yelling at whomever said those two words supposedly pertaining to you!) and you were hovering over the delete account button!
Well, I will have none of that! You are amazing! and I will personally come after anyone who thinks differently just give me an address…
Incidentally, speaking of delete,some Substack trickster deleted me off of yours, I know you wouldn’t have done that. ( right?)
Lor, it seems Loki, in one of his many shapeshifting forms, has been hard at work... I noticed you had resubscribed and thank goodness! Two heartbreaks in one week would have been more than this old soul could have borne, the mere thought would send me running for my hill never to return to these pages!
But I am here! The unmentionable comment was, mercifully, dealt on a day that couldn't have been better appointed if I had planned it myself - 'la rentrée' - it left me no time for wallowing in the mire of hurt feelings and once I have replied to an overwhelming number of kind and supportive responses I will walk my hill, see what there is to delight and astonish, kick up as much beauty as possible pick up my pen again and write in my usual emotive fashion to all who wish to read my words!
To hell and damnation with perfection in either spelling or grammar and mean old trolls who have nothing better to do with their time than belittle a good heart. Fuck that! NO excuses for using low-class English jargon again, nothing more eloquent seemed to suffice!
A thousand thanks are contained within the hug I am sending to you with this message dear one, I hope your weekend is extraordinary! xx
For some Substack reason, I never received your reply in my mail. I was left thinking, oh no! she is so busy with the start of school , she didn’t get a chance to read that I was dumped off your subscriber list. I ‘stopped by’ to check and there it was, written on Sept 6th. Few, just the thought of you thinking that I unsubscribed on purpose,☹️.
Pipp its bouncing back like magic! In fact, it might like to stop now or I will be spending the every free day until Christmas attached to some form of machine to keep it under control! I have never seen anything quite like it... my sheep are ecstatic though! 😂
I can't believe I missed this yesterday--didn't get a notice. But found you in Notes, Susie. So elegantly written and with my favorite John McClean, to boot, lovely photos, the quote, the mentions of others and the elegance of your words that slide forward like the end of summer.
Ah Mary, I think Don McClean's American Pie stole the hearts of many back in the early 70's just as it still rings in the hearts of those who loved it today... I remember so well the chords and lyrics playing on an old gramophone in my parents house - I guess old loves die hard. Thank you always and with love for you so generous words xx
Beautiful as ever, Susie - I'm glad it's cooling down for you. We've had a lovely summer, for once, but with pleasant temperatures that have made it a joy to be outside. There has has definitely been a hint of autumn some mornings lately though.
Thank you Lynn, autumn colours have been sneaking in here for the last month and now, after days of rain, all is beginning to turn green again! This evening I even saw new leaves peeping out on the scrubby oaks, slightly worryingly given the seasons ahead but I am so relieved the heat of August didn't kill them completely.
Thank you Susie for bringing me such a lovely piece to start my September. I waited you see, holding it a little longer, waiting for a day that promised me a quiet start for such a treat. I feel the searing brutality of your sun after our weekend of torrents in Kintyre, and am so happy that you have rain again on your hill. My heart broke too for a child that has not sung lyrics at the top of their voice on a car journey. We sang loudly, tunelessly with tears of laughter and howls of delight from my 3 year old grandaughter, sitting around the dining room table a few days ago, “ I love you baby…… “ it’s just a thing that we do as a family, and I’m so happy to know we are not alone. It’s all about making memories:) Love to you in France from me in Kintyre.
Ah Sarah, you warm my heart and soul with your joyful comment.
Yes, it is indeed about making memories, about living - or singing - the moment 'en famille' and storing the smiles and laughter for days in the future when life demands they are pulled out again. From my years in Ireland I remember so well much time spent sat around a warm fire, the smell of turf filling the night air (how I would love to have that oh so evocative scent drifting in my courtyard here again) with friends and family, penny whistles, guitars, and accordions to hand, each of us singing, no matter that our voices were out of tune and laughing into the small hours - they are all, unforgettable moments embroidered into my past. I am determined my children - and any orphans collected on the way - will have such memories too. Love back yo you in Kintyre from my hill. xx
PS Coincidentally, Mull of Kintyre is the one song I can play on a penny whistle without fault, I loved it so I visited Scotland just for the pure pleasure of seeing the place the song was about. ♥️
You always know just how to find and hold the tiny season you are in, Susie. You teach me something about the gift of presence in every letter you write and share. I hope this liminal season feels refreshing in its own rainy way, washing everything with the promise of autumn, and getting you primed for a gorgeous season of shortening days and long evenings for whatever your pen wants to write. p.s. I love the tiny reminders that a REAL and warmhearted person wrote a beautiful letter. Spelling is the last thing I care about as a reader. Please never stop sharing with us who love your creative soul. xoxo
Ann, thank you so very much for your kind words. Mercifully I have had little time these last days to think of the comment left last Sunday, a busy week followed with back to class fears, tears and forebodings from the newest and youngest taking a necessary front seat. Children who cannot spell or even know what the word grammar means yet saved me from overthinking and twisting myself into a ball of shame.
Today, I am stepping into this season of change with a light foot and heart knowing that for so many, my gifts are not only appreciated but loved as much as I do theirs.
I bless them for their beautiful hearts as I bless you for yours. xox
“Sometimes summer can be too loud…” What a perfect description. My letter today bookends yours, the loudness a kind of bacchanalian celebration, but my nerves and temperament so look forward to the moment everyone drives home, the lights are dimmed, the cats come out from hiding and snuggle down on laps. I’m glad the smoke has lifted and the sweet rains are returning to your hill. So many autumnal walks await you, and what a delight each time I can walk them alongside you in my reading.
Dearest Kimberly, I am stepping through the thin veil that separates the seasons with such relief I am certain the word is written across my face. Summer... the season I hasten throughout the whole of the year has undone me, turned me from all I love to an almost constant fear. But yes, the smoke has cleared, the air has cooled, the earth is recovering and is flushed with green once again, it may not last long but I love the power in its healing.
I am delighted to think of you walking beside me, through the beguilement of autumn colour and scents, the astonishing cycle of decay in readiness for rebirth and renewal.
Thank goodness for endless seasons turning one into the other to revive faith and energy!
Beautiful writing and images as always Susie. So relieved that you finally have rain. I hope your gorgeous sheep are faring well after such a difficult summer.
more empathy, more kindness, more gentleness, more love, more light
🙏🏼 Susie
Darren, always with a kind smile, I send you my thanks 🙏🏼
As magical as ever dear Susie❤️
Thank you Sarah, that means the world this week! xx♥️
I wish I had time to dash down to Le Barry for a day!
Susie
I am late the party, but much appreciated this post.
Yesterday and Wednesday, we saw our first significant rain for the last month and more, even then only 1". Very glad to hear of your release from dangerous heat and fire! Everything takes the chance to sing, in the car and so on. Smile.
We well remember our son's heading off for his first long time away from home. The unforgettable mixed look on his face when finally seated on the long distance bus...
Have wondered why 'American Pie' might be infamous... 'The day the music died' .... got it about right I thought when I first heard it those years ago. Later I found some old vinyl LPs serendipitously in a shop and introduced our children still at a fairly early age in the 80s to some classic rock'n roll, and to Buddy Holly. We also played some tapes in the old car going camping. They liked them at that stage.
PS Interested in artichokes, two kinds; lovely thought having them grow round you.
Hello dear Philip, nobody is ever late to my parties, they are always an endless song and dance, that you turn up at all is my delight.
Rainfall, hmm... as seems to be the norm with this climatic disorderly change, feast or famine seem to be the word of the season (every season). We have now had sufficient rain, not only to douse the fires, a relief, to fill the well, cistern and rain butts to overflowing, also a relief but also to soak into the moss on the roof to such an alarming extent water is now seeping into the house - 'be careful what you wish for' comes to mind!
Seth has now returned, filled with café and street chatter and an idea of being worldly, a joy to listen to and yet still he is the boy who was mistaken about dates for his return to the Lycée, had to be collected not an hour later... so perhaps not quite worldly enough which suits this maman, not quite ready to lose her last child just yet, just fine!
Ahh American Pie, I remember my parents also had the vinyl LP, played, volume up, which was never as loud as anything we might hear spilling from any music box these days but the notes and the lyrics, 'did you write the book of love' somehow stayed with me. I believe at some point a transition to cassette tapes enabled sing-alongs in the car too, a jolly time never forgotten, although my Papa had far too many Sydney Bechet and Louis Armstrong jazz tapes for my young ears. Funny how our ears change...
I have only the Jerusalem artichokes, to my absolute chagrin, though they grow in abundance not 50 metres away in a neighbours garden, the far more delicate Globe artichoke stubbornly refuses to take hold despite my years and years of gentle persuasion.
Sending blessings from my little corner to yours my friend.
Dear Susie
Old roofs, young hearts, that is the way, I guess, even when the deluge is in the now. Our record 50 year / floods / storms / droughts and heat arrive per decade I guess.
I ponder the 'big ag' harvests round us; the machinery is as big now and swift as can be afforded with any profit, and capable of snatching harvests when before it would have been impossible. The bread wheat and the malting barley, and the oil seed for animal feed depend essentially on the modern fuel and its industries, which kind of returns us to the climate.
Here we are in a Nitrate Vulnerable Zone, which means farming legally must restrict the out flow of soil nutrients from our fragile soil into the river if we are to safeguard the Northumberland coast. This year locally they have harvested the wheat and sown directly, at some cost, a green autumn crop to be turned in before spring sowing, which will help also with floods and droughts. Farming at the edge?
Good for Seth, I hope he is not too discombobulated. Our boy Danny was that bit older at 18 'leaving small town' as well as family, leaving school to work in Germany, a while mostly with children travelling with parents camping on their journeys. For a moment, mercy I thought, as we, mama, small sister and me waved goodbye, a generation leaving without a gun on his back!
So summer still reverberating, moon growing higher, deer tracks cross the stubble, much to do with apples, a Village Show tomorrow, Ann's 'traditional' entries, the baked loaf, the painting, and our youngest, now the story teller, at a festival in Oxford no less, in a tent re-proofed from the cupboard. Sing along book of love, or like Grieve/McDiarmid leaning in to the wireless hiss and crackle, tuned by Shetland, hearing 'Beiderbecke's cornet/As beautiful as any phrase can be', up there with Bechet, the note with no funeral. ('Island Funeral' 1939.)
Very best wishes.
Dear Philip, how I miss village shows as you describe them... and deer tracks in the stubble too, here the land is not left long enough for any animal to tarry, the crops are cut, the earth is dragged over with, yes a machine so wide and efficient it must be folded, mechanically of course, into three for transporting and replanted within days of harvesting.
I have been reading on soil deficits, water, nutrients, the fauna likely to indicate what deficiency is what. Not surprisingly, wild chicory and wild carrot grow in abundance over every slope, in the past I have always admired such a flower show, now I look on in horror...
Farming on the edge indeed, the edge of reason?
"For a moment, mercy I thought, as we, mama, small sister and me waved goodbye, a generation leaving without a gun on his back!" Good grief... 🙏🏼
Instead of winter crops sown this year (same machines) they 'disced' and drilled into the stubble and litter with a green crop mixture. It will put a little extra and much needed humus (carbon) in the ground. They can just about keep doing this while the energy / machinery is there and pays for itself.
All may yet not be lost on your hill slopes. I put a query to Google and got the AI reply.
Q "Can wild chicory and wild carrot help bring up soil nutrients from deeper in soil and begin to replenish top soil and its structure?"
I got this overview summary (with more detail):
A "Yes, wild chicory and wild carrot, with their deep taproots, can help improve soil by bringing nutrients from deeper layers to the topsoil, enhancing soil structure by breaking up compacted soil, and adding organic matter when they decompose, making them beneficial for later cultivation. These deep-rooted plants act as a natural form of subsoiling, creating channels that improve aeration and water infiltration, which supports soil biology and fertility." Could be right! smile.
PS My cousin Dennis 8y older than me was in Korea. I am glad I missed.
Dear Philip, I too am most heartily glad you missed too, though deeply sorry for your brother Dennis.
Unfortunately for the land here, there are three problems, the first: the soil is shallow, bedrock sits less than 50 cm below its entirely sloped surface, which means tap roots of any plant needing deep soil, usually have stunted roots which don't perform in a manner that nourishes. The second: cattle dung is the only fertiliser used. Cattle here are fed silage in quantities that make my eyes water, literally. Considering the vast array of additives to begin and then halt fermentation of the hay used to make the silage (ammonia, formaldehyde) the damage it might eventually cause the soil is terrifying. I am certain you are already more knowledgeable than I on this subject... The third: the land is never left to rest, that which is flat enough to harvest cereals, mostly used for feeding ever growing herds of cattle, are seeded twice a year.
I have, on several occasions tried to speak to the farmer of more organic and environmentally kind processes, he smiles and agrees but nothing changes. It seems both I and the soil are destined to suffer. :-(
Thanks Susie.
Your details make sense. Soil is the basis for farming, and carbon content (humus) vital to maintain fertility. It is possible to continue farming using NPK out of the bag, but soil quality, both water holding and drainage will suffer as carbon content declines from over cultivation. Building, not reducing, carbon in a deepening top soil is a good way to face the future. There is a move across Europe by some farms to invest in 'regenerative' farming to build soil more capable of facing exactly these weather extremes from changing climate. I read in a leading science journal the other day of these 'grass roots' (sic) efforts.
I am not a farmer but have the science background. The fields round us are mostly arable, and they do fairly simple checks on soil quality these days and even count the earthworms. Apparently there are simple checks on feed / forage quality for cattle easily done by examining dung. And if the animals are dunging on the grass it ought to be possible to check whether insects and other invertebrates are colonising the dung in the proper manner. If they are, it seems a reasonable check on toxics that are not breaking down?
I think it is a very good idea that more and more people think about these issues especially in their local region.
Thanks again... yours is a beautiful and inspiring place.
I'm so glad your hill is cooling and greening a little. You evoke the place so exquisitely, I feel I know it and you've made me care about it. I hope after sleep and the other generous comments her that you won't let unsolicited advice of the rudest kind impact your confidence. Those comments don't reflect on you. You are not 'emoting', you are inviting readers in, taking us on a journey and delivering us somewhere new with honesty as well as beautifully crafted language. And I'm so delighted to have found you.
Good morning Jan, Thank you for your, so very appreciated, kind encouragement and support my dear, dear friend, I know I have said this before but I wish we lived closer - you would have undoubtedly found me sobbing on your doorstep last Sunday morning begging calming herbs and hugs.
I cannot deny the impact such a cruel and unsolicited comment had but on hindsight, if there is ever a good day to be harshly criticised that was it, the day before 'La rentrée'! I have had neither time or inclination to dwell on anything other than class related tears and upsets, all of which, coming from small voices have been so much higher on the ladder of importance than my own this week.
This morning, though I cannot forgive rudeness, ever, the bruises are healed and as soon as I have finished replying to every kindness offered, I will brush off the dust of shattered confidence and begin again with a smile and as much passion for writing as ever. Perhaps more!
Sending you blessings for a beautiful weekend with love xx
Hope the first week back was a gentle re-entry. We really need to shrink the distance from you to Brittany :) x
We really do Jan! x
So beautiful! Thank you for sharing the loveliness.
Many kind thanks Bonnie, I am so glad you enjoyed this essay.
Days of “holiday with no recollection of the days passing, neither, how they were filled, only that they were long and suffocating and exhausting.”
As have been mine, dear Susie. We are supposed to be having some rain tomorrow. Keeping all appendages crossed!
How I wish I could purchase the chateau.
Hugs to you and the furries. x
Hi Louise, I so hope rain arrived in your part of the world? We have had plenty now, dare I say, even, a few dry days would be much appreciated? I know, I know, there is no pleasing some people is there?
I am sitting in the quiet of my kitchen, with a small glass of my dearly beloved's elderflower wine in hand, feeling completely disoriented by the first week back in classes, deafened by noise and all the usual back to school problems after the summer break, wondering how two months can fly by and feel like a week when after returning for only one week feels like two months? And, I am not alone, 'when are the next holidays?' was the question on all our minds as we left, bedraggled and exhausted already, this evening.
The château is very beautiful isn't it, almost entirely original too. A gem! But an expensive one! I am terrified property developers will be the only likely buyers, especially as the land is rented already and will be for the next five years at least, and, first option to buy will be given to them, making the possibility of a traditional working farm with a home on the land almost impossible. I shudder to think what will become of it.
Love and hugs back to you and your furries too.. xxx
Susie, M works at a local elementary school. They started the fall semester last Monday. She, too, is feeling exactly how you are. After one week, ready for vacation. The first week is the hardest, I think. Whether you are meeting new students or continuing back to the same ones (the school year starts in April in Japan), it's getting back into the routine and the schedule of prep, marking, tests - just part of the job - that takes a few days to get used to again.
Yes, we had rain! Plenty of it yesterday. And morning temps have dropped, so we can open the windows and let in some fresh air. A few more days of 36° ahead, but it's already feeling less oppressive.
Keeping all appendages crossed that someone worthy inhabits the chateau and maintains it well. x
Indeed, the routine is hard to grasp after so long a holiday, the noise, all the little squabbles and upsets too. I am certain teaching never used to be quite such a rollercoaster ride though. Maybe this is directly linked to age? In more ways than one!
I am so glad you have had some rain... 36c is still unbearable though when there is no opportunity to find a cool shady place to just be still. Please tell M I am thinking of her, here, at least it is now cool again - a blessing.
I will be watching the cars that drive past us on the lane, they are few, usually I know each of the occupants, if any look like developers, in swanky top end vehicles I may just ask the pig farmer at the bottom to come spread a little muck 'à côté'! 😉
I will be sure to let you know - enjoy your weekend dear one xx
Ask the farmer to spread some for us as well! x
Oh I will indeed Louise! xx
Dearest Susie … isn’t it always the way that the sound of one foghorn has sufficient raucous and grating volume to pierce the melody of gentle waves lapping on the shore. Sorry to be a little late in offering my appreciative drops into the ocean of compliments your writing garners (and deserves). I conjured all manner of sharply-phrased retorts to the ill-mannered and uninvited pedant who trampled so unkindly amidst the undergrowth of your forests of beautiful words … but I am, like I hope you might, walking on by, concentrating instead on the creator not the critic. Hugs from us.
Dear Barrie, you are such a marvellous guiding friend, one I am deeply grateful for. I guess there will always be waves rolling in when we least expect them, waves that are more violent than we imagine, waves that wipe us out, waves that cause a holding of our breath while we tumble, disoriented in the murky depths of white water. I should have remembered that from past lessons both metaphorical and real! I was a rubbish surfer but I never gave up and I am not about to here either, despite injuries!
My thanks to you always, I hope your trip is one that will mark this special year of your life with memories that never fade. Enjoy every second. xx
Delighted to add my voice to the many who appreciate every word.
Arrived in Denmark this evening, making memories!
Thank you for another luminous post, Susie. It seems just a few moments ago that you were writing about the start of the summer break. Now "la rentrée" is here. I hope the autumn begins well.
Thank you Jeffrey, La Rentrée had all the usual chaotic bedlam of a first day back at school knitted into a very long day, at the end all of us looked woefully dishevelled and relieved it was over but there were no tears from either us or the students so I am calling it a good beginning! 48 days to Autumn break, and counting!
“After rain, I feel like survival is at last a possibility.“
Curious isn’t it, once the rain finally came, washing, cleansing and nourishing our little piece of world, we too are satiated.
A beautiful but melancholy ode to Summer. Here’s to Autumn hues, the soft browns of the swaying fields, birds gathering to discuss flight plans and whispering their good byes to your hill. I hope you can hear them.🍁🍂
“Recently and often, I worry I feel less than I should, less empathy, less kindness, less gentleness, less love, less light, less dark, less beauty.”
Ah, never fall prey to your worries, sometimes they carry a bit of Loki the trickster, talking you into thinking you are a lesser version than your true self. And one more thing, embedded in your comment to Jonathan; What is that you said about someone critiquing your writing, HARSH WORDS?📣! ( I am yelling at whomever said those two words supposedly pertaining to you!) and you were hovering over the delete account button!
Well, I will have none of that! You are amazing! and I will personally come after anyone who thinks differently just give me an address…
Incidentally, speaking of delete,some Substack trickster deleted me off of yours, I know you wouldn’t have done that. ( right?)
Lor, it seems Loki, in one of his many shapeshifting forms, has been hard at work... I noticed you had resubscribed and thank goodness! Two heartbreaks in one week would have been more than this old soul could have borne, the mere thought would send me running for my hill never to return to these pages!
But I am here! The unmentionable comment was, mercifully, dealt on a day that couldn't have been better appointed if I had planned it myself - 'la rentrée' - it left me no time for wallowing in the mire of hurt feelings and once I have replied to an overwhelming number of kind and supportive responses I will walk my hill, see what there is to delight and astonish, kick up as much beauty as possible pick up my pen again and write in my usual emotive fashion to all who wish to read my words!
To hell and damnation with perfection in either spelling or grammar and mean old trolls who have nothing better to do with their time than belittle a good heart. Fuck that! NO excuses for using low-class English jargon again, nothing more eloquent seemed to suffice!
A thousand thanks are contained within the hug I am sending to you with this message dear one, I hope your weekend is extraordinary! xx
For some Substack reason, I never received your reply in my mail. I was left thinking, oh no! she is so busy with the start of school , she didn’t get a chance to read that I was dumped off your subscriber list. I ‘stopped by’ to check and there it was, written on Sept 6th. Few, just the thought of you thinking that I unsubscribed on purpose,☹️.
I seem to be falling foul of both human and Substack bad tempered glitches at the moment Lor! I am so glad you found the reply though... 😅
Oh I am so relieved you have rain and I do hope nature bounces back fast.
Pipp its bouncing back like magic! In fact, it might like to stop now or I will be spending the every free day until Christmas attached to some form of machine to keep it under control! I have never seen anything quite like it... my sheep are ecstatic though! 😂
I have an image of tigger with a chain saw😂
More like Eeyore this morning Pipp! 😂
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I can't believe I missed this yesterday--didn't get a notice. But found you in Notes, Susie. So elegantly written and with my favorite John McClean, to boot, lovely photos, the quote, the mentions of others and the elegance of your words that slide forward like the end of summer.
Ah Mary, I think Don McClean's American Pie stole the hearts of many back in the early 70's just as it still rings in the hearts of those who loved it today... I remember so well the chords and lyrics playing on an old gramophone in my parents house - I guess old loves die hard. Thank you always and with love for you so generous words xx
Beautiful as ever, Susie - I'm glad it's cooling down for you. We've had a lovely summer, for once, but with pleasant temperatures that have made it a joy to be outside. There has has definitely been a hint of autumn some mornings lately though.
Thank you Lynn, autumn colours have been sneaking in here for the last month and now, after days of rain, all is beginning to turn green again! This evening I even saw new leaves peeping out on the scrubby oaks, slightly worryingly given the seasons ahead but I am so relieved the heat of August didn't kill them completely.
Thank you Susie for bringing me such a lovely piece to start my September. I waited you see, holding it a little longer, waiting for a day that promised me a quiet start for such a treat. I feel the searing brutality of your sun after our weekend of torrents in Kintyre, and am so happy that you have rain again on your hill. My heart broke too for a child that has not sung lyrics at the top of their voice on a car journey. We sang loudly, tunelessly with tears of laughter and howls of delight from my 3 year old grandaughter, sitting around the dining room table a few days ago, “ I love you baby…… “ it’s just a thing that we do as a family, and I’m so happy to know we are not alone. It’s all about making memories:) Love to you in France from me in Kintyre.
Ah Sarah, you warm my heart and soul with your joyful comment.
Yes, it is indeed about making memories, about living - or singing - the moment 'en famille' and storing the smiles and laughter for days in the future when life demands they are pulled out again. From my years in Ireland I remember so well much time spent sat around a warm fire, the smell of turf filling the night air (how I would love to have that oh so evocative scent drifting in my courtyard here again) with friends and family, penny whistles, guitars, and accordions to hand, each of us singing, no matter that our voices were out of tune and laughing into the small hours - they are all, unforgettable moments embroidered into my past. I am determined my children - and any orphans collected on the way - will have such memories too. Love back yo you in Kintyre from my hill. xx
PS Coincidentally, Mull of Kintyre is the one song I can play on a penny whistle without fault, I loved it so I visited Scotland just for the pure pleasure of seeing the place the song was about. ♥️
You always know just how to find and hold the tiny season you are in, Susie. You teach me something about the gift of presence in every letter you write and share. I hope this liminal season feels refreshing in its own rainy way, washing everything with the promise of autumn, and getting you primed for a gorgeous season of shortening days and long evenings for whatever your pen wants to write. p.s. I love the tiny reminders that a REAL and warmhearted person wrote a beautiful letter. Spelling is the last thing I care about as a reader. Please never stop sharing with us who love your creative soul. xoxo
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Ann, thank you so very much for your kind words. Mercifully I have had little time these last days to think of the comment left last Sunday, a busy week followed with back to class fears, tears and forebodings from the newest and youngest taking a necessary front seat. Children who cannot spell or even know what the word grammar means yet saved me from overthinking and twisting myself into a ball of shame.
Today, I am stepping into this season of change with a light foot and heart knowing that for so many, my gifts are not only appreciated but loved as much as I do theirs.
I bless them for their beautiful hearts as I bless you for yours. xox
“Sometimes summer can be too loud…” What a perfect description. My letter today bookends yours, the loudness a kind of bacchanalian celebration, but my nerves and temperament so look forward to the moment everyone drives home, the lights are dimmed, the cats come out from hiding and snuggle down on laps. I’m glad the smoke has lifted and the sweet rains are returning to your hill. So many autumnal walks await you, and what a delight each time I can walk them alongside you in my reading.
Dearest Kimberly, I am stepping through the thin veil that separates the seasons with such relief I am certain the word is written across my face. Summer... the season I hasten throughout the whole of the year has undone me, turned me from all I love to an almost constant fear. But yes, the smoke has cleared, the air has cooled, the earth is recovering and is flushed with green once again, it may not last long but I love the power in its healing.
I am delighted to think of you walking beside me, through the beguilement of autumn colour and scents, the astonishing cycle of decay in readiness for rebirth and renewal.
Thank goodness for endless seasons turning one into the other to revive faith and energy!
With love sweet soul - see you there! x
Beautiful writing and images as always Susie. So relieved that you finally have rain. I hope your gorgeous sheep are faring well after such a difficult summer.
Rain has arrived in abundant stormy downpours, the hill is once again refreshed and flushed with an almost spring green! A relief on so many levels...
My warmest and terribly belated thanks Linda, I hope the week has been kind to you. x
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