Because the leaves on the bushes flip to gold and orange glowing within the autumn solar, ideas right here within the countryside of northern France flip to meals much more than typical. Life in France in September is all in regards to the harvest which implies lengthy hours for farmers eager to get produce picked and into storage. Generally, us “civilians” take part.
You say potatoes, I say pommes de terres
My buddy Jean-Claude, a retired farmer, has a discipline in close by historic Agincourt (the French name it Azincourt) the place he grows issues. That is along with his giant backyard and that of his mother-in-law, our subsequent door neighbour. He lately arrived at our entrance door in his work gear, conventional blue overalls and a flat cap and requested if we’d assist him. He was off to choose ‘a few rows of pommes de terre for private use of my mother-in-law’. She is our favorite neighbour, born in 1931, and she or he’s one of many wisest and nicest individuals I’ve ever met.
‘How onerous can or not it’s to choose a few rows?’ I requested my husband Mark. Serving to every out is regular right here and although we’re not expert in farming, our relative youth on this village which has a number of previous people, may be in demand. Particularly on the subject of heavy lifting (Mark) and chasing escaped animals (me).
The great life
We adopted Jean-Claude’s little white van in our city-style saloon automobile. By the winding hills and dales of the Seven Valleys we went, till we reached a really giant discipline with an ocean of potato crops. Jean-Claude drove his van throughout the robust ruts and farrows.
“I’m not driving my automobile throughout that” stated Mark stroking the steering wheel of his beloved automobile. Jean-Claude returned and instructed us to hop at the back of his van, the entrance seat being stacked excessive with baskets and sacks. We clambered in and have been tossed about like sacks of potatoes ourselves as our driver was completely oblivious to holes and hills.
“See these rows right here with the yellow markers” stated Jean-Claude, “they’re what want choosing”. 4 very lengthy rows have been earlier than us. Jean-Claude, who everybody is aware of (as a result of he mentions it at each alternative) can not do a lot bodily work on account of an unidentified medical situation (which requires him to take it simple), directed us. We dug, plucked, shook the crops and popped the potatoes into sacks all day lengthy. It was again breaking work, however on the finish of it, the van was completely full and Jean-Claude stated he would return with a tractor and trailer for the remaining.
Arduous work has its rewards
Then we drove to Jean-Claude’s mom in legislation’s home to retailer the potatoes within the cellar. Mark hoisted the heavy sacks onto his shoulders and descended the steps by way of a hobbit-sized door. Not simple for a 6’2” ex-boxer with a barrel-sized chest.
We have been rewarded with a number of sacks of potatoes, sufficient to see us by way of a lot of the winter. Jean-Claude poured everybody a glass of home-made wine. It tasted like cough combination and the bottle I used to be given to take residence proved efficient as a weed killer. He provided us home-made crème de menthe however as it’s the discuss of the village since Pierre the postman instructed everybody he had one glass and awakened two days later, we politely declined although I did marvel if it is perhaps good for my backache to enter suspended animation for a few days!
There’s by no means a uninteresting second in a village the place nothing ever occurs.
Janine Marsh is the writer of a number of internationally No. 1 best-selling books about France. Discover all her books on her web site janinemarsh.com
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