Bonjour March! now get out of my way.
how to jumpstart spring and a few other good ideas
Cold, snow, sun, rain…it all comes at once and within minutes of each other. This is the Giboublées de Mars… the chilly whirlwinds of March. After such a mild and sunny February, it seems a shock to see ice on Chica’s water bowls as I find myself relighting the woodstove in the middle of the day.
I am sure it is the same every year, but it is always a shock each year. Oh, these long weather cycles! They come like clockwork, but 12 months apart. It is easy to forget this last blast of winter’s breath down our necks and near impossible to think that in just 30 days, the wisteria will be draping purple across the kitchen arbor and scenting our morning coffee. My photographs snapped all spring, and every year for ages now, reveal the weather patterns more reliably than my memory.
And there are more March musings with recipes here at The Camont Journals:
March is most welcome, no matter how predictably unpredictable she seems, as she is the harbinger of plum and cherry blossoms across Gascony. French Sakura season begins like clockwork mid-March here as the flowering double cherry by the blue-washed garden gate is as punctual as always. Franny Golden’s large painting of “That Cherry Tree” pre-dates the real one by a decade or so and now hangs on my barn wall as a pre-echo of the other. Franny gave this beautiful gift to the Relais de Camont as a witness to her ongoing commitment to sharing her creative spirit with all who come here. In just a couple of weeks, there will be the real flowering Cherry Tree posing here.
Chick chick chick…
How are the chickens, you ask? They are settling in nicely! One of the reds needed to have one wing clipped so she’d stay within the confines of the yard and not fly up 15 feet to perch in a hazelnut tree outside the coop. The pair of gray Coucous is starting to socialize with the other four hens; they seem especially slow to acclimate to the outside at dawn/inside at dusk and had to be herded inside a couple of nights after the automatic door had closed on them. The others, cozy and cuddled on their perches, were slightly put out. Oh, chicken world problems. I’m just here for the eggs.
A Gascon Year- Mars
Speaking of eggs and laying hens, there are several good egg recipes in the March edition of A Gascon Year—embedded below the paywall as a bonus for paid subscribers and otherwise available here: https://relaisdecamont.com/ebooks/ybtqqtgsun5lou6t8nk1gurysjfc81
A Catalan omelet, chickpea crepes, and a few egg-rich desserts await, as well as a beautiful portrait of That Cherry Tree.
March often finds me in the garden just “standing and staring” with a cup of coffee cradled in the chilling mornings, its caffeine steam puffing out among the potager beds, looking tidier now for some compost and mulch love. The new book I am reading “To Stand and Stare: How to garden while doing next to nothing” by Andrew Timothy O’Brien, is reaffirming, encouraging, and enlightening, at once. I am looking at the wilder edges of Camont with a new eye—one of letting it grow, and filling in a once-upon-a-time lawn with more fruit-giving bushes and other sprawling vines and pumpkins. A bit more Robert Hart’s Forest Garden vibe if you have ever read that great gardening volume.
Episode #2 - on Giving is live.
And just like that, I am beginning to fill in my new quieter life, too, while letting the edges still run wild. As you know, my good neighbor and friend, Tamsin Jardinier, and I started a podcast! And while the idea was to “just have fun,” it has become a wondrous little thing—homemade yet far-reaching. Basically, we sit down with a cup of coffee (or tea) and a piece of cake that one of us has made, and we talk. Pretty simple, right? But isn’t it in these quiet moments when we are sitting with a friend and just talking that our innermost thoughts fly—unedited and freewheeling?
Mostly we talk about the smaller parts of our separate lives here in Rural France: Monsieur So-and-So, who sells the best dry firewood; a good place to buy laying chickens (I know- more chickens!); or what is the best way to clean sticky clay mud from tramping garden boots. We share stories, cake, and a bit of “The Art of Lost Living.” Tune in wherever you listen to podcasts or through our own Substack here:
Last words from Camont
The transition from cooking school to creative residency is slowly taking shape, as over a dozen creatives are on the calendar for the spring and summer sessions. The stone and brick pigeonnier tower houses two residents at a time, together with a working resident (the very talented Australian writer and photographer Harriet Davidson is with me now) it makes for an intimate group working independently, most mornings, and occasionally gathering for a collaborative meal or convivial aperitif. Can you image sci-fi novelists and Hollywood screenwriters, painters and illustrators, fabric designers, digital photographers, cookbook authors, and hungry chefs gathering in the garden, by the wood stove, or around the kitchen table? This is the new face of Camont. Not so different than the last 30 years, but with a more focused lens.
Keep up with incoming residents and news on the newly minted dedicated Instagram account- relais.de.camont and on the website relaisdecamont.com, of course. This weekend I am heading Southwest to the Basque Coast for a little Thalassotherapy and squid. I’ll share a bit of Basque love with you next week- Adieu!
Kate
For loyal supporting subscribers, here is your March reward- below. With a Big Thank You!