Every two (make that three) days ain't bad

The trouble with keeping a diary is that often you're so busy living life, there's no time left for writing about it.  Or else, it appears so boring when you put the words on the paper - what did I do yesterday? I did housework, gardening, worked on the computer, had apero in the garden, ate, watched tv.  Still, for posterity, and for that novel I may one day write (well if Jordan - sorry, Katie Price - can do it, I'm sure I can). 

So, Monday we had John and Mary round for a meal - they don't like eating late so were due round about 5 p.m., which foreshortened all the cleaning we had to do.  It's great having one of those large farm kitchen/diners, but the problem is they have to be clean and tidy for entertaining.  That's especially hard for us since the kitchen table is also the office (remember, I'm still putting in 21hrs a week on the computer) and repository for all the paperwork we must sort out 'real soon now', and the bag of John's cables etc which are of vital importance, and the empty wine bottles and cardboard boxes that we will recycle 'real soon now'. 



Anyway, a good time was had by all - aperos in the garden since the weather was good(ish), followed by too much food and too much wine. That's what I call life - which is why I'm so overweight, but hey, someone's got to make everyone else on a diet feel good about themselves.

Going back one day, on Sunday there was a fishing competition at the local lake - not that much more than a pond really in a local farm - and in the bar on Saturday night Michel had said we must come.  Sunday morning it absolutely chucked it down, so we thought we'd give it a miss, but by lunchtime it had cleared, so we had a small 'constitutional' walk round to see if anyone had turned up. You can tell we're not fishermen - of course they had turned up! Somehow, quite by coincidence, we managed to make it in time for lunch.


L'Etang

 

Not much fishing going on!



Michel - typical Frenchman with his 'Ricard' belly

We love to go to these types of occasion and see the French at their ease.  I suppose English fishing clubs would have similar days, but you never make the effort when it's at home.  But back to L'Etang du Peche. It's quite embarrassing at these sorts of occasions because we meet people we've seen in the bar perhaps once or twice, but have no idea what their names are. They all know us, because we're 'Les Anglais' with the house next to the traffic lights - or possibly, Les Anglais with the wife who speaks French. Either way, we stick out in a crowd, whereas your normal French person doesn't!

Just for completeness, and for our memories in several years when we look back on these blog entries to see what life was like, what more have we done? 

Tuesday was the end of my holiday so I was back 'in the office' all day. At lunchtime we had to dash round and get the two bedrooms ready for our guests, and John had to finish off the bathroom where he has replaced all the fittings. Our guests (two adults (Chinese) & two children from Kingston-on-Thames) arrived about 8.30 p.m. so it was down with the volume on the tv and tiptoeing around from then on so we didn't disturb them. When we buy our next house we are DEFINITELY going to make sure guest accommodation is not over/under our living accommodation.  Anyway, they seem really nice and don't want breakfast until 8 a.m. which is good - I hate early mornings.

Wednesday was another day in the office for me after sorting out the Chiangs' breakfast, and a stroll along the beach at St Aubin sur Mer (about 4-5 km from the house) before dinner, tv and bed.  What an exciting life we lead!



Eve in the French office



  

Don't know how much work John is doing,
given the computer program he's running.

It's now Thursday and the Chiang's have just left for the day, so we have 1 hr of peace and quiet before I start work - can't wait until someone buys our UK house and I can retire!







Oh well, the best of intentions

Hah, so much for keeping a diary - a 21-day diary (every 21 days, not every day for 21 . . . you know me!).  Well, you see, life got in the way and I must admit that after sitting at this computer for 7 hours a day Tues/Wed/Thur I tend not to sit here at the kitchen table in the evening as well.

Sounds like a good excuse to me.

But, at least I did finish the strimming of the 'lawn' (its green, but not with that much grass).

Life here in France just seems to go by without anyone noticing it.  We're almost halfway through our summer already.  So what have we done?  Looked after some guests, had a short holiday over in La Manche (Cherbourg peninsular) to see what the areas around there are like for potentially buying a new house. That's if we ever get our UK house sold. I don't think there have been any viewings since we came over here.  With the latest news from the US, it looks like it could be some time before we ever get it sold, so that makes it longer and longer that I will have to work to pay the mortgage.

Since I'm so far behind with this 'daily' diary I think I'll just start from here, and add the odd comment about the last 3 weeks as and when they seem appropriate.

So, what's a Sunday in Seine Maritime like?  Not that different from the UK actually - got up late, went to do some urgent shopping (almost out of milk) and had croissants.  That latter is not usual for the UK I hasten to add.  Visited an older English couple who live in the village - John and Mary - to invite them for dinner tomorrow night.  We've been very remiss and not been round much - not since the Repas Champetre which was held on the last day of the Festival du Lin at the beginning of the month. 

Now that's a good thing about rural France, there're lots of reasons to eat and drink with the neighbours over the summer period.  This part of the country is one of the leading producers of flax (Lin) and so the first festival of the season is the Festival du Lin on the first weekend.  The main river here is the Dun (hence the name of the village Le Bourg Dun - the town on the Dun) and all the main towns/villages along its route (all of 5 miles!) open the churches and halls to displays of linen, tapestries and other needlework. Here in Le Bourg Dun the population goes from about 100 to about 10,000 (well, maybe I exaggerate slightly, but that's what it feels like as they park outside our house, or up the road and walk down past our windows. On the Sunday there is a car boot sale in the village (Foire a tout) which is just like a UK one, full of tat, but it's French tat which makes it more interesting. At lunchtime we have the Repas Champetre on the green behind the bar which is where a couple of years ago I tried Adouillettes for the first and last time. There isn't much I don't like, but Andouillettes are at the top of the list - it's the way the intestines spring out of the centre of the sausage as you cut it, in a spiral. Not exactly appetising.

Since then I stick to the steak or sausage and chips, and of course the wine.  We usually meet lots of the locals there who all know us but we can't remember who they are. Well, there are more of them than us, if you see what I mean. It's quite sweet really, I am known as the Englishwoman who speaks French! Since there are several English families who have holiday homes in the village, it says something about how much we Brits take part in local life that the others don't figure at all. It's no wonder we get a bad reputation in areas like Brittany where there are lots of Brits who live in their own little world.

Other festivals due this year is a Kermesse 1st weekend in August (again an open-air meal but this time with tombola) followed by a Four a Pain the following weekend.  In the 'olden days' each village used to have either a communal brick oven, or the villagers would use the baker's oven when it was still warm. I think Bourg Dun had the former, and we still have the old oven in a field at the back of the village. Once a year they get it going again and have a fete - small stalls, games for the kids (free, mind you, this is rural France not England and so very child-friendly) and, you guessed, a barbecue. I remember being really embarrassed one year when a group of Brits who have a holiday house in the village turned up with their own food! Events like this help finance events around the village and it's just NOT DONE not to participate to the full.

So, back to today, we went round to invite John and Mary to dinner tomorrow night, before our next group of visitors arrive on Tuesday. Then got ready for an afternoon of tv - the German Grand Prix followed by the Tour de France. The Tour has been my saving grace over the last couple of weeks - it gave me something to do whilst I was doing all the ironing from the guest rooms. That's the one thing I hate about having guests(well, besides having to get up early to do breakfast for them) and that's ironing the bedding. I can understand why some B&B's charge a supplement for one-night stays.  Perhaps we might next year, it depends how desperate we are for money, and that totally depends on whether Incisive want to keep employing me if we can't sell the house.

That managed to keep us occupied until 6 p.m. when I thought I'd better get out and do some weeding in the garden. Oh, what a hard life we lead.

The first day

It's 12.17 p.m. or 11.17 a.m. depending on where you want to be, and I suppose it's about time I started work.  Well, today was going to be the end of the 'holiday' and the start of me getting organised.  That was the intention last night when I was going to bed at 10.30 p.m. to get a good night's sleep in readiness for 'getting on' with things today. I even had a list:

1. Finish strimming the 'lawn' which I left half-done 4 days ago
2. Finish cleaning the main guest bedroom and ensuite which I started 3 days ago
3. Clean the lounge, in particular the windows, which I was supposed to start 2 days ago

(hmm, methinks I espy a pattern here)

Anyway, that was before I dediced I'd just load the photo of me in the Mickey Mouse poncho onto Facebook, by which time there was a good program on tv which 'only' had 15 minutes to go, and then I had to play card on my PDA, then it was 12.15 a.m. and I was wide awake and just couldn't get to sleep.

We did wake up by 8.30 a.m. this morning, though, but that was before John decided to answer a query for the B&B and I had to play cards, and before we went down to the boulangerie for bread for breakfast, before making and eating breakfast and then I just had to play all the games on the computer.  Then I had this idea, you see.  Instead of trying to write really good stuff for this blog, and starting numerous pieces, but not finishing them before life overtook me, I'd write a diary.  So I just had to start it before I forgot.

So I'd better get out and do that strimming.  Oh, wait a minute, I think I just have to. . . . .

A Day at Queens

First there were two guys brushing the lawn, followed by another two with lawnmowers, close on whose heels cam the man repainting the white lines, culminating with the guy with giant hairdrying to dry off the lines. What fun for the first hour of our first ever trip to Queens. 

That's one of the upsides to moving away from England, one tends to do those things that you always say: "We must . . . ".  It didn't work on Saturday morning when jokingly John suggested a trip to the coast . . . we had too much work to do around the house/garden, though I was up for getting in the car immediately and going off.  Instead, after watching the men's tennis final at Roland Garros, I suggested we go to Queen's on Monday since we'd never been there before. 

Being organised, we pre-booked tickets, and woke up to pouring rain!  It was still raining slightly when we arrived at Baron's Court, but, luckily soon stopped.

We made a good choice of court - it truly reflected our current lifestyle.  The first match was between two Brits (Ward beat Cox for those of you who give a damn), followed by 2 francais.  So we didn't have to choose between our native and adopted countries (Arnaud Clement beat Benoit Paire)!

Being typically British weather, after the rain the sun came out and burnt us quite badly, then went away again and it got so cold we decided to leave.  Unfortunately, our plan to eat at Racine (a deluxe Bistro at South Kensington run by a chef we saw on Saturday Kitchen) was scuppered when we looked at the state of the restaurant (very posh) and the state of us (not posh at all), so we went home.  Why is it when there has been a stoppage on an underground line there are long gaps between trains?  If there are enough trains to run every 2-3 minutes, where do they all go after the stoppage?  There had been a broken down train at Oxford Circus, so we had to wait almost 20 minutes to get the tube we wanted.  Swings and roundabouts though, since we got to Tottenham Hale just 2 minutes before our train arrived rather than having to wait for 22 minutes!

To top and tail this anecdote, we also want to make sure we get to go to all the restaurants we have been meaning to for some time.  Since the Spanish restaurant was closed on a Monday, we were forced to have the meal out John had intended for my birthday but time had run out - the Lock Fyne Seafood Restaurant in Hertford. 

We also have decided NOT to count the money we spend on meals out until I don't have any work and we have to economise.  Unfortunately, my bathroom scales isn't into this not counting lark.  Oh well, there's Veeraswamy's on Wednesday too (if you don't know it, it was the first ever Indian restaurant in England).

Old friends

It has been a year so far for getting in touch with people we haven't seen for many, many years - or even never at all.  All thanks to the marvels of modern technology.

Starting at the end first, I took up a free trial on Ancestry.co.uk, and looked up my dad.  (Oh, must add that to the list of things I want to do when I retire - trace not only the UK side of the family, but also the German side if possible.  All I remember about the German side is mum saying they originally came from Prussia, and that she had a big photo/painting of her grandfather as a Hussar but she lost it on the 3-day ride of the back of a coal truck on the railway journey from Berlin to Kiel to escape the Russians who were going to be the first into Berlin).  Anyway, when I looked up my dad I found a family photo of him when he was a toddler, which I recognised as being in our family album (which my sister is now guardian of).  However it wasn't my sister that put it there - and hey presto, I find a relative I never knew I had.  Haven't worked out exactly what the relationship is yet, especially since I wasn't going to pay £100 for a membership to Ancestry and so can't access his first contact.

In addition, there was contact from an old friend from University - the only good thing that Linked-In has done in my view, and then a school friend via Friends ReUnited.  Finally, going to the 1st Thursday of the month pub meeting in London, who should be there but Dave Hodson, who we haven't seen for 20+ years!

So, there's contact after: 20 years, 35 years, 50+ years and never!  Not bad. 

In doing all the catching up with these people, it's made me think that it was time I wrote out my life story since no-one (apart from John and my sister) knows everything - so that will be my next entry.

Life Changing Experiences - Part 2

Just to be different and buck the normal trend, my second life-changing experience actually happened before the first.  Well, who wants to be predictable?

Back at the end of last November I had a little tumble.  I was just walking down the pathway by the side of the multi-storey car park in Welwyn Garden City having done some early Christmas shopping when my llife changed.  A bit dramatic you may say, but not from my point of view.  I tripped over the uneven pavement and most probably because my hands were full of shopping bags, I fell awkwardly and couldn't get up again.  My body just seemed to have stopped listening to me - especially my right arm.  I thought I was moving it to lever myself up, and it felt like I was, but nothing actually happened.  Yep, I'd broken my arm.  It was an incredibly weird experience, though, because my brain was telling my arm to move, and the muscles/nerves etc were doing their job and sending back a message to my brain to say 'Yes, the arm has been moved'.  However, when I used my eyes I could see nothing had happened.

This was a day for firsts - first time I've ever broken my arm, the first time I'd been the subject of a 999 call, the first time I'd taken that f*a*n*t*a*s*t*i*c gas and air mixture to dull the pain,the first time I've had to have my clothes cut off me and the first time I've been to the emergency ward of a hospital.  And after each of those 'first times' you can add 'and last' (apart from the gas, of course).

I'd broken my humerus - and as the kind ladies kept on saying as they were plastering me up "That's the worse bone in the body to break because gravity is constantly pulling it apart".  But at least I hadn't broken my shoulder.

After the first week they found that the bone was being moved sideways by the bottom plaster, so gave me just a small slab between my shoulder and elbow.  But that didn't work, the bone ends were still not meeting, so they took me into hospital for an operation to pin them together.  And this is where the life-changing experience really started.  I spent 4 days in hospital and they never did the operation.  Children and hips came before arm pinning, and though each night they put me on 'nil by mouth' in case there was a gap in the morning theatre schedule, everyone seemed to be breaking their hips that week.  The only day there was a gap, was the one day they'd moved me to another ward, and the new staff had given me breakfast so they couldn't operate.  That's life.  On a glass-half-empty note, I lost quite a lot of weight over those four days.

Anway, I spent three days in a general ward and that is an experience I would not recommend to anyone.  Since it was a trauma ward, it was mainly filled with old people who had had falls.  Firstly, I noticed that the majority were widows - I knew men had a shorter life expectancy, but this was physical proof.  All these lonely old women, and it would be even worse for me because we have no children.  I got very scared about being left on my own.  So, I made my first life-choices:

• I made John promise he wouldn't die before me.
• I promised myself I would not follow the usual south-of-England habit of being totally insular - wherever we eventually live in France you can bet we'll join all the clubs and societies we can and actually talk to the neighbours.

And then there were those patients who appeared to be suffering from Altzheimer's, and one patient definitely had some version of Tourette's.  This latter was a lady who would curse and swear as soon as any of the staff came anywhere near her, and her poor husband sat by her bed trying to placate her all day.  That scared me, I can tell you.  No way do I want John to have to suffer if that ever happens to me.  So I made him promise if I ever deteriorated in that way he'd put me in a home and get on with his life.  In fact, I'd rather commit suicide than end up like that. More than ever now, I wholeheartedly believe:

It's the quality not the quantity of life that matters

So from now on I'm going to make absolutely sure I get the quality right.  And that brings me full circle to my first post on life-choices.  All those things I have been meaning to do but not getting round to, and starting another chapter of my life over which I have total (virtually, not counting the lack of money!) control. 

So roll on tomorrow. . . life's going to be sooo good.

Life Changing Experiences - Part 1

Who is this suave man?

My first ever birthday cake

I'm 60 now - that's a life changing experience if ever there was one.  But not in a bad sense. I LOVE being 60, not least of all because it was a good excuse for a party, and a party important enough that many of my friends made the effort to come along, including ones I hadn't seen for 20+ years (yes, that's you Ann). 

What a great time we had.  It was slightly marred for me because I couldn't do my little 'turn' on the keyboards accompanied by John.  My broken arm just didn't heal quickly enough to allow me enough practice.  Still, it did get me back to playing again - there's always a silver lining.  And the band were as good as ever - even with Chris bashing away on the drums louder than ever!  He says you cannot change the volume with the drums, but he sure gets louder as the night wears on.

********

Unfortunately, due to the parsimonious government, turning 60 wasn't as lifechanging an occasion as I'd hoped. Thanks to sex equality (men and women should retire at the same age - and obviously not the lower age),  I don't actually get my pension until January 2012, so can't give up work until then, or we sell our UK house, whichever comes first.  Given the state of the property market I don't think we're going to be lucky enough to get a quick sale, so it looks like next year is the earliest I can retire.

However, since it's down to below 12 months, I can plan and that's most of the fun.  When everything slots in place it will be totally life-changing - we'll be living in France, and able to spend whole days 'pottering' around doing things we like and not feeling guilty.  My brother-in-law took early retirement and went on a course on how to prepare/cope.  The key thing I took from his description, was to make a list of all the things you want to do, but just don't have the time to do.  Then make sure you work your way through the list.  So far my list has been in my head, and several pages long, but now I'm actually going to put in down in black and white (and no doubt constantly add to it).  Here's a start as at 28 March 2011:

• Play the keyboards more proficiently
• Learn more about astronomy (possibly take a degree in it)
• Become more conversant with the formation of the universe - particularly the different theories about the Big Bang
• Actually read the books we have in the library
• Keep chickens and possibly pigs
• Definitely keep goats (think of all that goats cheese, and those goat curries!)
• Grow more food and herbs
• In particular, to have an orchard of English apples in France
• Make pickles & chutneys
• Grow olives and make up lots of flavoured olives
• Scan all my cooking recipes and put them into a database
• Scan all our photos
• Scan and save all the CDs
• Travel more in Europe

.... well, that's a start.  I think I'll continue at another time.

Going back to life-changing experiences, though, planning for a totally new life is really exciting, and I find myself just sitting in the chair grinning like a cheshire cat at time.  Just because we will have a blank sheet ready to write on anything we fancy.  Now that's EXCITING!