Ça a marché. It did the trick. After my little moan yesterday, I realized there were things that absolutely needed to be done, no matter what. The day dawned bright and sunny. As soon as allowed according to our local noise ordinances, I was out with the rototiller working in the vegetable garden plot. Sometimes complaining a little turns out what you need as motivation.
The soil was damp but not muddy. It was loose and easy to work with. It took an almost embarrassingly short time for me to finish another tilling with the big old heavy machine we bought for that purpose in 2004. I think the tiller is on its last legs, but it did the job one more time. The only hard part, really, was pulling the starter cord 15 or 20 times before I finally got the thing going. I almost gave up on it, but by manipulating the choke control and trying different settings, I finally got it to roar back to life. By the way, weather forecasts are for more chilly, damp weather over the next week or 10 days.
It looks good, doesn't it? Later in the day, Walt got out there and mowed the "grass" — it's partly grass but also a lot of wild flowers and other native plants. The woman we bought the house from called it not a lawn but une prairie. Did I mention that the lanscaper who takes care of our trees and hedges nowadays sent Walt an e-mail a few days ago saying he'd be here in late June to do jobs we need done. Finally. The work was originally scheduled for last December, but Covid intervened. Maybe the virus won't interfere this time.
Back to Domfront...
Here's a slightly closer view of the Domfront church that's called Notre-Dame-sur-l'Eau — "Our Lady on the Water." It's a priory — un prieuré — that was founded in the 11th century as a "subsidiary" of the nearby Abbey of Lonlay, which I posted about a few days ago. A priory is a smaller monastery or convent that houses a community of monks or nuns. Until the 18th century it was known as Notre-Dame-sous-l'Eau — "under (or near) water." It was built at a place where people could ford the Varenne river, which flows south and eventually dumps into the Loire via the Mayenne and the Maine rivers. A big part of the church was torn down in the 1830s to make way for a new road from Domfront to the town of Mortain, about 15 miles west. I'm sorry I didn't go inside.
(There's another church (or chapel) called Notre-Dame-sur-l'Eau in the Allier département, farther east in central France. It's in Verneuil-en- Bourbonnais, just north of Saint-Pourçain-sur-Sioule. It is no longer used as a church but serves as a gallery for art exhibits.)
Glad that your little rant gave you the energy to go outside and do some manuel work. That was the trick. The vegetable plot looks great. Good for you. Probably back on track.
ReplyDeleteThe second link shows an aeral view of the location where this little church stands between what looks like two little creeks and the two bridges of the road spanning them.
In France, churches belong to the State, they're not privately owned unless disaffected. So, it was cheaper to tear down several spans of this lovely little church rather than expropriate private property to save it.
It is aerial, of course! Too bad Blogger doesn't give you a chance to edit your comment once it is published!
DeleteThat's for sure.
DeleteDid the French government own the churches in 1836? From what I read, the abbey church in Lonlay is owned by the commune. How does that work?
DeleteThe State owns the churches since the Révolution. Many abbeys, monasteries and convents were sold as bien national and in most cases demolished. See Cluny, which was at the time the largest church in the world!
DeleteAs i understand it, a commune is a subdivision, perhaps autonomous, of the State. So what belongs to a commune belongs to the State. If this church had been declared a monument historique, it could not have been amputated of six spans of the nave. I think I read it was protected in 1840, four years after the amputation. Mérimée (Prosper, pour les intimes) is the one who initiated this Momument historique thing around 1840.
Prosper Mérimée of Carmen fame.
Oh, wow, that plot looks great :)
ReplyDeleteBeautiful looking soil, a good start to a successful garden. I wish the soil in my flower beds looked as good but it’s full of rocks, courtesy of the last owner. :(
ReplyDeleteKen, thanks for your comment about the BnB near you. Could you post a link for it or email it to me, please? Thanks.
ReplyDeleteThe garden is off to a great start! Thanks for showing it off.
ReplyDeleteOther things aside, I love that second picture, with the rototiller looking as if it's stepping off smartly for a summer of gardening. Step lively there, Mr. Roto.
ReplyDeleteMy father had a Troy Built tiller like that. In my younger days I helped him with the plowing. It requires some upper body strength and a strong back.
ReplyDelete