normandy

06/09/2013

Round bales of straw look like Easter Island statues to me

Die deutsche Version dieses Artikels ist: hier.

Maybe I’m a bit strange. So many things look beautiful or exotic to me. I take far too many photographs. Round bales of straw, that lie around on the fields in August, look like Easter Island statues to me. I know they don’t have faces. That’s not what makes them so statuesque in my opinion. They were made by humans, they are quite big and they change the view of the landscape.

I took so many photographs in August, over 200, that it took ages to sort them. I got a lot of work atm. My situation didn’t really advance. But it’s pointless to complain. I’d rather show you a gallery of straw roll statues (with dogs).

Bach with round straw bales under a blue sky. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Bach and Rudi posing with round straw bales on a stubblefield. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Round straw bales under a dramatic evening sky. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Rudi really likes the straw bales. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Straw rolls under a blue sky. One thing I really like about them is their colour. Yellow and blue look so great. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Phex and Rudi pose with round straw bales. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Even more round straw bales some hundred metres to the west. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Round straw bales and flax retting in the morning. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
That’s maybe the maximum of weirdness of the landscape around here. Round straw bales look completely normal compared to the field in the middle on the left. I mean what was that? Giant slugs ate the cereals? Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
Phex posing with a round straw bale under the setting sun. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
The setting sun turns the yellow bales and stubble field orange. Own photo, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported
06/05/2013

Cowly neighbours

Looks like I am writing at least one cow-related post per year. Last year I wrote Nose of the cow. Cows still remind me of “Eye of the tiger” but this year they made me wonder if “cowly” is an existing adverb, like sheepishly. No, it’s not, but I found cute toy cows by that name.

This young Normande girl belongs to the son in law of my neighbour. She likes my salty hands and wants to clean the lense of my camera. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Normande cattle are a cattle breed of Normandy. They have cute dark spectacles around their eyes, which is not always visible. Sometimes the whole head is dark.

Isn’t this young Normande girl cute? Own photo on Wikimedia Commons, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

A friend suggested, that the cow adverb might be “cowardly”. Bulls would certainly disagree but it’s not true anyways. “Coward” comes from the Old-French word “coue” for tail. A coward is someone who hides his tail between his legs like a scared dog. No offence meant dear doggies, I bet you are all rather waggers than cowards.

And this one seems to ask for cookies. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

“Vachement“, a French adverb, that is indeed cow-related, means extremely/ a lot/ very. Maybe because cows are very funny and extremely cute.

Two jung girls performing a ballet, while the third one wears an anti-sucking nose ring and has not as much fun. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

These nose-rings are supposed to help on weaning a calf. The calf stops to suck at the teats of the mother because the ring hurts. The government of Ontario (and most likely the sellers of these devices) make it sound as if that was good for the calf, but the minister of agriculture should try it himself first. I can’t give any treats to the cows with the nose-rings. No matter how careful we are, we always touch the ring. Which means those cows have more pain and less fun. Cows explore everything with their nose and their tongues and they can’t do that if they carry rings like that. I’m sure it prevents sucking on the mother’s teats and that’s necessary for the farmers because they want to sell the milk of the mothers, not because it’s so good for the calf. Sorry for my rant, I just hate when people tell bullshit to make things sound better.

Three relaxed Normande heifers. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Then one day they were gone. Just after we had become friends. They were brought to a different pasturage.

The place at our fence where the neighbour’s cows have been hanging around most of the time, we’re obviously interesting and harmless. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

They didn’t move far away though. I found them on the other end of the property of the neighbours.

The cows were bored already and happy to see us. The dogs were not so happy, except Bach, who loves cows. Phex was rolling his eyes and complaining. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

The hand is not the problem, but the little dark box (camera) looks a bit dangerous. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Aren’t these white eyelashes beautiful? Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

These young male Normande weaners live at the entrance of the village. They belong to the son of the man who owns the timber-framed house. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

I like to talk with the man who owns the house. We often meet when I’m walking with the dogs. Normannic expressions are sometimes nearly poetic. Me: “It was a long winter.” He: “A lot of water has fallen.”

A Normande cow. It’s not possible to see her spectacles, because her head is black anyways. Her friends are in the background. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Temptation. Since I had no apple or sheepfood on me I offered her flowers. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

And on the other side, on the field behind the church, was a group of male Charolais weaners. The boy in the middle needs a tissue. I definitely won’t show my hand to him. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

03/05/2013

More Spring Flowers

Since Spring has sprung a lot more flowers have grown. Meadows and pasturage are colourful. The colza is in flower as well and the landscape gets neat yellow squares.

A pasturage full of taraxacum officinale, common dandelion. To take this photo I’ve been kneeling crouching around. Needless to say a car was going by and the people in the car most likely saw me. “Look, the locals are crawling on the fields.” The dogs were attached to a pole at the fence and waiting for me. I swear they were grinnning. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Blossoms, gnagnagna, maybe pear blossoms. I’m always unsure even though I KNOW this tree. It’s a very old fruit tree and has only very small fruits that don’t look very good and get eaten by the sheep. In the row where it stands are apple and pear trees. So which is which? Sigh. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Cherry blossoms, this time I’m pretty sure. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Cerastium, most likely cerastium arvense, field chickweed. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Mahonia aquifolia, Oregon-grape, a North-American plant. It’s an invasive species. That sounds a bit scary, as if the plant would aim at world domination. It looks quite nice though. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Red campion, Silene dioica. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Apple blossoms at the road. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

27/04/2013

Wild cleaners

On castle-cleaning one of the mops broke. Rusted away. My first thought was: I’m probably too strong. Then I created a “dog song” or rather “tool song” with the lyrics: “wild cleaners could drag me away” to the tune of “wild horses” (I’m sorry Rolling Stones). Careful, I’m quite loud.

But to be honest that thing was probably ten years old, maybe more. My next thought was: Sillyness is the only thing that keeps me sane. You may quote me.

Miniputz helps me with the washing. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Bach burns dead branches and cleans the garden. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Saw today (when it was peeing), that this is a girl. She cleaned my hand yesterday morning. She lives with the neighbours. She has a lot of weaners friends, they are very curious, funny and a bit shy. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

24/04/2013

Lawnmowers are wonderful

It’s spring. That means the grass and the bad herbs are growing and I have to cut them. Right in time, my brushcutter broke. Just for the record. It’s my brushcutter. I bought it with my own money. I seriously need it, because the sheep do NOT eat stinging nettles or any poisonous plant. Sheep aren’t very clever animals but they are usually clever enough not to burn their mouth and not to eat poison. Stupider sheep die young. The motor of the brushcutter is still running, but the head doesn’t turn anymore. This reminded me so much of Eleenie and her lawnmower. A friend told me, in France are no cheap repair services. Repairing something costs as much as buying a new thing. But there is hope. Me and Rudi visited Mr C. Rudi loves Mr C.’s cats, but those cats don’t love him. Mr C. thinks there is hope we can repair the brushcutter. Then he showed me his awesome collection of grass-cutting-machines, a brushcutter, a lawnmower and a ride-on mower. I cut the grass around some trees in his garden, then he let me ride his ride-on mower. I found out, that it is much more difficult to cut straight lines with the mower than I thought. He took some photos of me.

Lawnmowing is fun. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved.

Lawnmowing is fun. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved.

Careful stanze, don't drive the lawnmower into the pond. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved.

Careful stanze, don’t drive the lawnmower into the pond. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved.

And this is how I look if I try to concentrate on something. Those corners were really difficult to mow. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved

And this is how I look if I try to concentrate on something. Those corners were really difficult to mow. Photo by Alain Cardinal, all rights reserved

After I was undulating on the lawn long enough (unsure if I can say it like that in English but I like the word “undulate”), I gave up. Thing is I love waves and curves, when I cut the hedge I always cut the corners round, but Mr C. hates waves and curves and wants everything straight and perpendicular. But waves or not, he lent me the normal lawnmower. That was yesterday, I’ve cut the lawn for the rest of the day yesterday and the whole day today.

It’s a funny lawnmower. It is quite special, to start it I got to open the starter and close it half with my hand or foot. It’s a bit tricky, but once it’s running it runs. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Another part I’ve mown yesterday. The park is up to 2 hectars big? The whole property is 4 hectars big. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Rudi and Phex were terribly bored, the lawnmower is too loud for them. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Can’t remember when it looked that good last time, but it was probably after the 200€ lawnmowing last year. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Lawnpride. It’s green, it’s short, it’s lawn. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

Bach always helps me when I work. He is never bored. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

I got to say it again, I can’t remember, if it ever looked that good. Sadly it won’t stay like that for long. Own photo on Flickr, licence: CC by-SA/ Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported