Here is a peep at my secret childhood – The currently unrestored grounds and buildings of our Norman Farmhouse in France. I’ll just give you a little looky for now! It may sound strange but I feel a bit funny revealing these beautiful surroundings because they feel very personal; they are sights that no one other than my family has ever seen or really known about. It’s mad to think that our lives are actually so public, particularly as a Blogger. I realise that I still have something that will be solely a personal experience, and that’s quite exciting.
These photos are from just one area of the back of the farm – the vegetable garden that my Grandparents and mother used to survive off. Now, it holds fewer crops but the earth is none the less tended to. Years and years of obsessed nurturing by my Grandfather, this soil is perfection! The 3 buildings and surrounding fields were once a fully fledged working farm along with Shire horses, pigs, hens, a huge mandatory cider press, the lot. Sadly the sheep have just left the farm after being there all my life. This was where I used to play up to 4 times a year. Rolling down the big hill in an old sack or ‘weeding’ the pond, it’s where my love for nature nurtured itself. We had only this pump for water, the bushes for toilets and gas canisters for power. It’s wonderfully peaceful here, you can scream your head off and it’s ok – the nearest neighbours can just be seen in the distance across the valley. Perfect.