Paques is French for Easter. And we had a tres joyeux and tres internationale paques here at La Pommetier. We had Canadians living in England. A Canadian living in France. And Italians living in London. Hosted by Australians living in France. United by Lindt bunnies.
The English/Canadians staged an easter egg hunt in the garden after breakfast and the rest of us tried to look sophisticated while really wanting to join in rummaging around the tulips. I hoped that there was one or two eggs missed that I would find while “gardening” later. Not to be.
Easter really kicked off the tourist season in Arromanches. The village has really come to life after her (well earned) winter slumber. Even the ice cream shops are open. We love it. The church bells ring at 7am and we’re up an at ’em. It’s daylight until 8.30pm now so I’m out annoying the turtle doves in the garden until late.
My winter gardening was severely restricted and my impatience to get to spring meant I started off my seedlings way too early in January and now have trays of pathetic looking bits of green string growing (think alfalfa sprouts rather than delphiniums and hollyhocks). I am determined that they will survive to get to the garden this summer even if they have no will to live of their own. Plants under the care of Mother Nature outside are faring much better. I can take no credit for the lovely bulbs she’s sprouted up in the garden which are now filling our bedside tables. Merci.