This is my 219th article written for this magazine, and it is the first about mushrooms. Why this subject? A friend has just phoned me from a wood, where she is searching for wild mushrooms.  In April and May they grow prolifically in many regions. On her way home, she will call into her local pharmacy to get them checked for safe eating. Our son on holiday with friends in the Dordogne region once ate a ‘yellow stainer’ and was very ill. Luckily we only heard about it when he had recovered!

​He is very knowledgeable about language..  I had thought that ‘champ’ meant ‘field’, but Rowan said that in early French it meant ‘open Countryside’. The ‘mush’ in early English meant ‘moss’. I learn something new every day! 'Mort’ in French is ‘death’, but the wild mushrooms called ‘Trompettes de la Mort’ are harmless.
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You may have realised that I am a great fan of the artist Claude Monet. His favourite mushroom was a cèpe. A Frenchman once showed me how to cook them, then we all ate them outside in the sunshine. Never wash them, just wipe them clean. You serve them with the sauce in which you cooked them. Melt plenty of butter, then add shallots, garlic, and parsley. My French friends then add a meat stock, but we preferred a vegetarian one. Finally, just before serving, add double cream. Living here, you could add grilled button mushrooms to this sauce, or, as I sometimes do, stuff large mushrooms and cook in foil in the oven, before serving with this delicious sauce. So, enjoy your champignons!     

Esmé

Alternatively, see this month's recipe for Cream of Mushroom Soup, by The Tidy Cook

I hope that you love lavender as much as I do! That’s after white flowers: they are my top      favourites. Driving around our area in the South of France in summertime was such a joy! Field upon field of superb colour and perfume.

I like my name Esmé, but have always thought that if I had been christened Violet, I would have worn clothes in shades of mauve and purple, at least after I had left Redmaids!      
 
Lavender in France is known as ‘L’or bleu de Provence’, the blue gold. It is so intrinsically French. The author Jean Giono famously said “ Lavender is the soul of Provence”. There are too many stories about it for this article. I love to think that Mary Magdalene washed the feet of  Jesus with it. It was regularly used to perfume tombs, and Charles VI  insisted on having cushions stuffed with it wherever he went.

Lavender is harvested mostly from June to August, starting along the South, and then to the Alpes of Haute Provence.  The essential oils are used to make beauty products and perfume.      It is also thought to have healing qualities, and distillers move from market to market with their stills. 

Grasse is the town at the centre of the perfume production. It’s not a pretty town, but it smells delightful! Nowadays many top chefs use lavender in their creations, and it’s very popular in ice-creams.

I wish you all a perfumed April, and a healthy one.
Esmé

I wonder if, like me, you find the life-style of your grandchildren - if you are lucky enough to have any - astoundingly different from that of your predecessors! It never fails to amaze me. My grandmother was very proud of the fact that she went to school. Her father was a rich mill-owner, and so he could afford to pay for this! She fell in love with a poor farmer who often came to grind his corn at the mill. Marriage was refused, so, dressed in her best velvets, she climbed out of a window, and they married in the ‘leaning’ Church in the Centre of Bristol.

My mother left school at the age of twelve! There was no salary for her, just pocket-money. She worked alongside my grandmother in their Inn, which was called ‘The Darrell Arms’ and was at Framilode on the banks of the River Severn. The family had the rights to fish salmon from the river, and my mother cooked salmon teas, with paid help, and served them in their tea-gardens alongside the Inn. They also had the rights to ferry people backwards and forwards across the Severn, so the mealtimes were always busy.

At the age of 18, my mother was engaged to be married to a young farmer called Mortimer. Sadly, my grandfather died and the family moved back to Bristol. My mother joined Kingswood Tennis Club and loved it. However her mother gave her the choice: either leave the Club, or give up her fiancé. She chose the Tennis Club!

My life was pretty strict, but not as bad as that. And what freedom my daughter had! At 17, she was away from home at Exeter University. My grandchildren too are widely travelled and totally independent. My little great-granddaughter, at 5 months old, travelled to the South of France.

Life has endless possibilities, even in these difficult times. I hope that you enjoy yours!
Esmé

I think many of us have first times that we remember. Some are pleasurable, some we would rather forget!

At the age of threeI was smacked for unpicking my mother’s knitting! At five, smacked again on my first day at infant school for crossing my legs when sitting down. You weren’t supposed to do that! At fourteen, I went to my first party where boys were invited too! What a thril. Us girls couldn’t wait, we were so excited! It was that day that I met Ron (sixteen) my future husband.

March 10th was my lucky day. The first day I wore my engagement ring to school, I was teaching at Greenbank. I took every opportunity to write on the blackboard so that I could rest my left hand and admire my ring!

On my first day of teaching at Fonthill School in Southmead, I quarrelled with the headmaster.  When my class came in from the playground, I noticed one little boy was missing. He was seven and it was his first day at that school too. Where was he? He was in the headmaster’s office being caned. His “crime”? He had taken a piece of chalk outside and had drawn on the ground. I was very cross and really reprimanded the Head.

Talking of schools, my first day at Red Maids was far from enjoyable. I broke a test tube in the laboratory, then we wnt outside to play hockey. I had to throw the ball in. At that moment the teacher bent over and the ball hit her nose causing it to bleed! What a first day!

I will finish on a happier memory. The first holiday after our honeymoon was planned for France, somewhere we had never been. We had booked a place on a plane flying from Lydd in Kent. On the way there our fan belt broke, so we missed the plane! Luckily we were in the A.C. Petite that I told you about last month. There was just room to fit it into a plane with two large Rolls Royces!

Our first breakfast in France was in Le Touquet. We loved it, and it is still one of my favourite places in the world!

Enjoy November.
Esmé

If you are wondering what I am writing about, I will give you a clue! In the dictionary it says “circular objects that revolve on an axis and are fixed below a vehicle, or other object, to allow it to move easily over the ground.“ Wheels!

I think that is such a narrow definition for something that plays an important role in our lives.  Unless we use digital, we rely on clocks and watches to know the time. Perhaps you have enjoyed a ride on the London Eye or on a big wheel at a fair-ground? A wheel allows me to use my sewing machine. A spinning wheel turned the fur from our Samoyed dog into wool.
 
What about water wheels? Three times we nearly bought one. The first was in Keynsham, near Bristol and the other two were in France. They were on small rivers that ran through the grounds of the properties we were interested in buying. However, my husband thought that they might make the houses feel damp.
 
Our children were excited when for them, three became two. They progressed from tricycles to bicycles!
 
We went from two to eight!  As teenagers, we had a motorbike. Then came a three wheeled “A.C. Petite”. The engine was not powerful enough for steep Swiss mountain roads, and it caught fire! Many four wheeled cars followed, Jaguars in this country and Citroens in France. My favourite was a Citroen-Maserati. 
 
Then we progressed to eight wheels with our car pulling an American Hi-Lo. This was the same height as a Daimler, but went up to a normal caravan height at the touch of a button. Now I drive a Toyota Hybrid. To prove the importance of wheels, we carry a spare one, don’t we?
 
The saying goes, “Money makes the wheels go round* I prefer to change the word “money” to “kindness” or “love”. That is my wish for all of you.

Enjoy Autumn!
Esmé

I have just watched a rescuer being rescued! A large St Bernard dog was being carried down a mountain. This TV news brought back some holiday memories. Every time that we stayed in  Switzerland we always went up the Jungfrau on a mountain railway. Our children enjoyed watching the  St Bernards, They were a popular tourist attraction.

When we bought Hotwells Post Office we decided to get a dog. Buying a book about dogs we chose to buy a Samoyed as they looked to us to be really beautiful. We called her Heidi and she was as amazing as she looked. No guard dog though, she welcomed everybody! She wasn’t my first dog. At the age of  eleven I was given money for my birthday and set off to buy a Spaniel. I came home with a Pekinese!  Named “Mandarin the Ninth” which we shortened to Mandy.
 
My family are all dog lovers. In York my son Rowan has a gorgeous Wheaten  terrier, a calm, very patient dog. He needs to be, as my granddaughters both have young lively dogs, Stevie another Wheaten terrier and Basil a Welsh terrier, who tease Paddy. In Welland near Malvern, my daughter Jaye has a black Labrador called Hugo. I call him the detective as he is so curious. He is a PAT dog which means “Pet as Therapy”. When this difficult time is over he will be taken into care homes again to cheer up the residents.
 
Now a cautionary note, once in France when Ron and I met friends for lunch they left their dog Alcan in their car with the windows open. Partway through the meal I said “Shouldn’t you check on Alcan?” Claude and my husband went down to the car and thank goodness they did, the windows had automatically closed and Alcan had collapsed. Luckily they managed to revive him. Never do that!
 
Finally, do I have a dog? No, because pets are not allowed where I live. However I do have a large white cuddly teddy bear!
 
I wish you a happy September,
Esmé
 

I was going to give  these thoughts the title “Life in Lockdown”, but I thought it might make you turn the page without reading it! Perhaps, like me, you are fed up with the word lockdown. I always think of prison. Our houses are so much better than those.

I do sympathise with those people whose lives are difficult and with those who suffer from depression. My heart is with you and I light candles every night for you. I live alone and for four months have been self isolating. I miss my husband Ron every day but have done that for nearly twenty years! Ron would have enjoyed this time as he often said that he wished the two of us lived on a desert island. I have left my flat just four times to see Mr. Peter Turner, my optician.
 
I am grateful to my very caring family and friends. My son lives in York and my daughter lives in Welland near Malvern but I get regular phone calls. My daughter orders on-line anything that I need and it usually arrives the next day.

Food is not a problem thanks to Downend Coop. They have all been fantastic from the manager Simon and the kind people who shop and load the trolley to the young man who delivers to my door. I call it “star treatment”.

When my car had a flat battery my friend Kate P took me to the optician, and church friends have phoned me often. With all this loving help, how can I not feel cheerful?

My greatest joy is the arrival of my first great grandchild!  She is two weeks old, is called Ophelia and I am meeting her for the first time this week.
 
Most of the people that I know are enjoying gardening or cooking. Have you tried “Hassleback bread” You make slices in a loaf, but not right to the bottom. Fill the gaps with your favourite things, perhaps cooked leeks, bacon and cheese. Wrapped in foil you heat it up. It’s quick, easy and delicious.

I have always painted using oils. A few weeks ago my York family sent me water colour paints. Guess what? My white settee is now splashed with rainbow colours. It’s lucky that I like rainbows. In French they are “arc en ciel”, arch in the sky!

Think of the fun we shall have when this time is over.  My son and I will be off to France!!
 
Take care please,
Esmé

What a large subject! I could write a book, but I must keep it to one page. I have never met anyone who doesn’t like them. Personally I don’t enjoy receiving cut flowers. They sadden me as they die so quickly. Plants go on and on! 

My balcony has never looked prettier because during the “lockdown” I’ve been sent daisies, lilies and lavender plants, all thriving in this sunshine and they are a daily joy. My family know that my favourite colours are white, blue and mauve,

My friends who married in the fifties all carried red roses. Not me. I designed a crescent spray of white roses, carnations and stephanotis. We had twin page boys, so I designed my bridesmaid dresses, and made them in blues and mauves to match the page’s kilts. Their bouquets were like stars in those colours.

A friend’s daughter worked for the florist in London who made Princess Diana’s bouquet. When Royal orders are made there is always a duplicate. After the wedding, all the team shared the flowers from the spare bouquet.

We had two flower calamities. When we bought Hotwells Post Office the front door to the property was alongside the shop window and up three steps. Soon after moving in we bought six pots of geraniums, two for each step. Not a good idea. The next morning they had all been taken!

In France, we planted lavender all along the inside of our front wall. On returning from holiday there was just a row of holes!

I wonder which flowers are your favourites? My father loved wallflowers. I could never understand that choice. Madi, my granddaughter, now expecting my first great-grandchild adores daffodils. In York, my granddaughters favour sunflowers. I do like the way that when turning to the sun they seem to dance (the sunflowers, not the granddaughters!) In France you should never give anyone chrysanthemums. They call them funeral flowers. Likewise never offer red and yellow flowers together. That combination is thought to bring bad luck.

Just a daisy from your lawn would please me. Yes, I love white flowers!

Happy July,
Esmé

When I told a friend that I was writing about birds she asked “Who is interested in them?” Well I am, and I hope that some of you are too.
 
Do you like owls? I have never actually seen one! My daughter Jayne has a very clever sewing machine. When she makes a dress, for example, it does everything except wear it! This Christmas she featured owls. She made me a door-stopper owl filled with pebbles in patchwork colours to match my carpet. It’s a “hoot”! Children had versions minus the pebbles.
 
Valerie gave me a delightful “Garden Birds” calendar. My birthday month, April, features blue-tits. I love them and they are increasing in number in our country.
 
My favourite birds are the blue and green ones such as kingfishers and peacocks. Some peacocks are white, and equally fantastic. When we were on holiday in Interlaken in Switzerland, we caught a train  to Lake Maggiore in Italy to see white peacocks. Then we went in a small boat to Isola Bella. It was unforgettable, with the sun shining, musicians playing, a great lunch and white peacocks strutting around.
 
As I have mentioned before we worked for Haven Holidays. They were planning to expand in France and rent more space in campsites. One spring we went to visit various sites as they wanted our opinion. One was called “Camping des Pongs”. A pong in France is a peacock! Unfortunately, the staff there had not closed the doors firmly on the restaurant and we found it full of peacocks. What a pong!
 
I have so many questions about birds. Perhaps you know the answers? Why don’t they all migrate to warmer places? Do they feel the cold? Do they communicate with each other or make friends? I must try not to worry about them!
 
Enjoy February
Esmé