Now that nearly all the leaves are gone from most of the parcels of grape vines, you can see that a few grapes were left behind during the harvesting.
I'm sure nobody is going to come pick them at this late date. You'd think birds would have eaten them by now, but they haven't.
By the way, one of the fruits I had halfway planned to gather this fall was sloes. Those are called prunelles in French, and they are just that: tiny purple plums. There are two uses for them, as far as I know. You can macerate them in alcohol — vodka or gin — and make what is sold commercially as sloe gin, or you can make jelly out of them.
I read about it on the Internet. Unanimously, people said that it was not a good idea to pick sloes before the first frosts of October, even though they look ripe much earlier than that. So I waited. The other day I went out to the place where I had spotted three or four bushes full of them, thinking it was time to get some.
Well, they were all gone. I guess the birds prefer prunelles to raisin. I think it must have been birds, because the bushes were picked perfectly clean. People are not usually so thorough and meticulous in their fruit-gathering.
We're having an internation weekend. Friday evening we went to visit with some Dutch people we have met who live on the south side of Saint-Aignan. They're getting ready to go back to The Hague for the winter.
Yesterday, we had lunch in Saint-Aignan in a restaurant called Chez Constant with S., who was Jean-Luc's s.o., and a German woman who lives in a little house in Saint-Aignan that S. and J.-L. remodeled for her a couple of years ago.
Today, we are having English guests, J. and T. At least I assume T. is English, even though he lives, I believe, in Spain. J. is an Englishwoman who used to live in Saint-Aignan but now lives about 25 miles north, near Chaumont-sur-Loire. It will be nice to see her and meet him.