One of the many good things about living here is having friends and family visit us, something we always look forward to very much. In previous years by this time we have had around five or six groups stay with us but this year so far none! Having said that we pick up two close friends from Bordeaux airport tomorrow, that will be great!
We don't think that we could have upset that many people so that they are avoiding us, we use deodorants, shower, are fairly civilised and housetrained! Has to be the recession, credit crunch, temporary economic blip, call it what you will. Several friends are on enforced short time working, others less fortunate have lost their jobs, many are fearful of the near future in economic terms and job security so cloth is being cut according to means which is both sensible and understandable.
Despite the official forecasts (propaganda?) that all is well and on the gentle slope to recovery there seems to be an underswell of distrust or disbelief as to the distant pot of gold at the end of the economic rainbow. Given my cycnicism of such things and the prophets of such things I believe them, well sorry, no I do not. There is no such thing as a simple solution to the current shambles which was aided and abetted by 'Prudence' as well as many others. There is a prolonged and painful road ahead and the journey may be unfortunately more unpleasant for some than others.
Out here the economic slump did not seem as bad as in the UK, thankfully. Many UK expats have been hit hard by the Euro/Sterling exchange rate over the past two years especially those with income/pensions in sterling. The rate is slowly improving at last but has quite a way to go until it returns to the level of five years ago.
Enough of the doom and gloom bit, we are still happier and more content than back there and have more friends too as well as a much healthier and gentler way of life. That is something that our visitors seem to appreciate too, even if their stay may only be for just a few days. We enjoy their company too of course because what is nicer than to be surrounded by family and friends? Tomorrow is hopefully the start of their coming back again, that would be superb!
An occasional rambling of unrelated events, thoughts and trivia ... Please feel free to leave comments as you wish!
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Sunday, 29 August 2010
Entartainment in the village
Wandered up to Villeréal this morning for some bread as you do in France. Wondered why there seemed to be few parking places even for this time of year, lots of people heading towards La Place du Libération where the church is. Aha, I thought, wedding, special service, funeral? No, none of these quite a crowd had gathered in the square and all looking towards the bell tower of the church. All that could be seen was a taught wire from the balcony of a house some hundred metres away.
There was quite a buzz and air of expectation and some excitement too amongst the children present. Suddenly there was a loud and long drumroll, the throng hushed and looked towards the balcony as an amplified voice addressed the crowd announcing Casse Cou Charles (Breakneck Charles) and asking for silence. Charles then began to walk along and upwards on the wire towards the church bell tower, slowly, cautiously and without the help a balancing pole. The wire started at about five metres above the pavement and the other end was some thirty metres above the ground.
Charles was proceeding gently and unsurprisingly the crowd gasped when he appeared to loose his footing but he soon recovered and was soon happily on his way again. Some tense mintes later he was approaching the bell tower when his scantily clad assistant appeared there and urged him on, the crowd were still watching with bated breath. Suddenly he ran the last couple of metres and gained the safety of the ledge on the tower much to the delight, relief and approbation of the crowd. Having taken the applause he then climbed onto a rope suspended out from the church by a gantry and proceeded to slide earthwards pausing on route cling by one hand or invert himself in a star shape and other acrobatic feats. Finally he gained the ground and was applauded long and loudly with shouts of 'Bravo, bravo!'
We thought that this was the finish of his show but not so. He disappeared into a house and reappeared on the balcony brandishing a bicycle. Well I say a bicycle but somewhat incomplete, it was not fit for road use as there were no tyres on the rims! After a number of extravagent flourishes to get the crowd going again he set the bicycle onto the wire, grabbed a balance pole, mounted the machine and laboriously began pedaling his way up the rising wire towards the tower. There were several obligatory wobbles en route as well pauses to demonstrate his agility and balancing skills. His piece de resistance halfway was to stop and slowly, very slowly stood on the pedals and proceeded to perform a 360° turn whilst still on the bicycle - result? More applause of course!
Finally he was welcomed at the top onto the arms of his delightful assistant accompanied by further applause. We were wondering just how he might absail down the side of the church complete with bicycle, no easy task perhaps. Not at all, he replaced the bicycle onto the wire, mounted with his pole and began to ride downhill; Now I've seen bike wire acts before and without exception the return trip has been made backwards but this was the exception. Having had some mandatory wobbles and stops to show some more balancing feats he eventually regained the safety of the balcony amid an absolute thunder of applause.
That was it, entertainment over. The next obvious thing to do was retreat to our favourite café in the other village square under cool stone colonnades and enjoy an fresh strong espresso. A nice way to end a short trip to the village ...
There was quite a buzz and air of expectation and some excitement too amongst the children present. Suddenly there was a loud and long drumroll, the throng hushed and looked towards the balcony as an amplified voice addressed the crowd announcing Casse Cou Charles (Breakneck Charles) and asking for silence. Charles then began to walk along and upwards on the wire towards the church bell tower, slowly, cautiously and without the help a balancing pole. The wire started at about five metres above the pavement and the other end was some thirty metres above the ground.
Charles was proceeding gently and unsurprisingly the crowd gasped when he appeared to loose his footing but he soon recovered and was soon happily on his way again. Some tense mintes later he was approaching the bell tower when his scantily clad assistant appeared there and urged him on, the crowd were still watching with bated breath. Suddenly he ran the last couple of metres and gained the safety of the ledge on the tower much to the delight, relief and approbation of the crowd. Having taken the applause he then climbed onto a rope suspended out from the church by a gantry and proceeded to slide earthwards pausing on route cling by one hand or invert himself in a star shape and other acrobatic feats. Finally he gained the ground and was applauded long and loudly with shouts of 'Bravo, bravo!'
We thought that this was the finish of his show but not so. He disappeared into a house and reappeared on the balcony brandishing a bicycle. Well I say a bicycle but somewhat incomplete, it was not fit for road use as there were no tyres on the rims! After a number of extravagent flourishes to get the crowd going again he set the bicycle onto the wire, grabbed a balance pole, mounted the machine and laboriously began pedaling his way up the rising wire towards the tower. There were several obligatory wobbles en route as well pauses to demonstrate his agility and balancing skills. His piece de resistance halfway was to stop and slowly, very slowly stood on the pedals and proceeded to perform a 360° turn whilst still on the bicycle - result? More applause of course!
Finally he was welcomed at the top onto the arms of his delightful assistant accompanied by further applause. We were wondering just how he might absail down the side of the church complete with bicycle, no easy task perhaps. Not at all, he replaced the bicycle onto the wire, mounted with his pole and began to ride downhill; Now I've seen bike wire acts before and without exception the return trip has been made backwards but this was the exception. Having had some mandatory wobbles and stops to show some more balancing feats he eventually regained the safety of the balcony amid an absolute thunder of applause.
That was it, entertainment over. The next obvious thing to do was retreat to our favourite café in the other village square under cool stone colonnades and enjoy an fresh strong espresso. A nice way to end a short trip to the village ...
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Not writing much today. Our dear little cat Socks had to be put down this morning, she had a non-operable tumour behind her left eye, life has not been good for her recently and she was gradually deteriorating. She has been part of our lives for fourteen years and came with us from England when we moved.
We brought our other cat Smudge with us as well, she suddenly and sadly disappeared last October.
Socks, go find Smudge, she'll look after you.
RIP
We brought our other cat Smudge with us as well, she suddenly and sadly disappeared last October.
Socks, go find Smudge, she'll look after you.
RIP
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Next week
Next week is the end of the French holiday season, for the French and largely the Dutch that is. There will still be a number of UK holidaymakers visiting this bit of France but they generally will be the more mature folk with no accompanying kids. It will be nice to return to a more peaceful and less busy environment overall. Car parks will not be so exciting as during peak periods they resemble oversized dodgem rides at the fair, it will be easier to get a table at a favourite restaurant without having to book a week ahead. The supermarket checkout queues will have shrunk too.
I've been quietly observing the behaviour of several nationalities over the summer, mainly French, Dutch and English. Other people visit here in summer, Belgian and German, but in very small numbers.
Take lunchtimes for example. The French are renowned for lunch breaks of two to three hours daily, even at weekends. Usually they will return home for lunch with the family and in many homes that is the principal meal of the day. Those en vacances will retreat to a restaurant for the duration. The Dutch usually are self-sufficient with ample supplies of victuals for either a picnic or a meal at their holiday place, often a tent. Oddly lunch is taken by them around 3.30pm and can mast a prodigiously long time due to the vast quantity of food consumed. The English seem to ignore set times for lunch, some wander around eating and drinking on the hoof, others will arrive at an eatery some time well after one o'clock and wonder why there are either no tables empty or are surprised that lunch service has virtually finished.
Children. Most French kids are well behaved when in public whether in a café/bar or restaurant; the beach, shops, wherever. In fact they can go almost unnoticed but are not ignored by family joining politely in conversation. The Dutch seldom eat out and when they do it is a sight to behold as the fork forms an almost continuous coneyor belt like motion from plate to mouth shifting what we consider large amounts of food n a short time. Their children are generally noisy, many local people find their behaviour intrusive an disrespectful. English offsprung generally lack table manners and constantly endeavour to interrupt conversation with demands for all manner of things.
Queues in shops - the French like to take their time and chat with the checkout operator and any friends that happen to be nearby. The dutch shop en famille with the almost obligatory three children, at least one wearing an orange garment. Mum stands at the checkout with two or three items in a trolley so you join what seems to be a quick queue. Not so, the rest of the family will raiding different shelves in the shop and shouting from one end to the other about prospective purchases. The English, especially those who are unfamiliar with French products, meander around, leave trollies unattended in the middle of aisles, and gather around in a group ti discuss the item or shelf in question.
Having said all of this it is but a sweeping generalisation and probably not representative of the true situation. It is a bit like people and noisy cars or motorbikes, only the loud ones are noticed, probably one in ten, the remaining 'normal' vehicles passing unnoticed!
Yes holiday time here may occasionally be a little frustrating but that is only for less than two months a year. The remaining ten months are ours to enjoy in what is truly a wonderful place that we are more than fortunate to have found and to live there!
I've been quietly observing the behaviour of several nationalities over the summer, mainly French, Dutch and English. Other people visit here in summer, Belgian and German, but in very small numbers.
Take lunchtimes for example. The French are renowned for lunch breaks of two to three hours daily, even at weekends. Usually they will return home for lunch with the family and in many homes that is the principal meal of the day. Those en vacances will retreat to a restaurant for the duration. The Dutch usually are self-sufficient with ample supplies of victuals for either a picnic or a meal at their holiday place, often a tent. Oddly lunch is taken by them around 3.30pm and can mast a prodigiously long time due to the vast quantity of food consumed. The English seem to ignore set times for lunch, some wander around eating and drinking on the hoof, others will arrive at an eatery some time well after one o'clock and wonder why there are either no tables empty or are surprised that lunch service has virtually finished.
Children. Most French kids are well behaved when in public whether in a café/bar or restaurant; the beach, shops, wherever. In fact they can go almost unnoticed but are not ignored by family joining politely in conversation. The Dutch seldom eat out and when they do it is a sight to behold as the fork forms an almost continuous coneyor belt like motion from plate to mouth shifting what we consider large amounts of food n a short time. Their children are generally noisy, many local people find their behaviour intrusive an disrespectful. English offsprung generally lack table manners and constantly endeavour to interrupt conversation with demands for all manner of things.
Queues in shops - the French like to take their time and chat with the checkout operator and any friends that happen to be nearby. The dutch shop en famille with the almost obligatory three children, at least one wearing an orange garment. Mum stands at the checkout with two or three items in a trolley so you join what seems to be a quick queue. Not so, the rest of the family will raiding different shelves in the shop and shouting from one end to the other about prospective purchases. The English, especially those who are unfamiliar with French products, meander around, leave trollies unattended in the middle of aisles, and gather around in a group ti discuss the item or shelf in question.
Having said all of this it is but a sweeping generalisation and probably not representative of the true situation. It is a bit like people and noisy cars or motorbikes, only the loud ones are noticed, probably one in ten, the remaining 'normal' vehicles passing unnoticed!
Yes holiday time here may occasionally be a little frustrating but that is only for less than two months a year. The remaining ten months are ours to enjoy in what is truly a wonderful place that we are more than fortunate to have found and to live there!
Wednesday, 25 August 2010
The 'Stella' Awards
No, not as in 'Artois' but Stella Liebeck. Never heard of her? Read on ...
The 'Stella' Awards
The Stellas are named after 81 year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald's. That case inspired the Stella awards for the most frivolous, ridiculous, successful lawsuits in the United States.
Here are the 2009 winners:
5th Place (tie): Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas, was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving little toddler was Ms. Robertson's son.
5th Place (tie): 19-year-old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbour ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently didn't notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal his neighbour's hubcaps.
5th Place (tie): Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania, was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He couldn't re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation, and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for eight days. He subsisted on a case of Pepsi he found, and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental anguish. The jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.
4th Place: Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas, was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door neighbour's beagle. The beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been just a little provoked at the time by Mr. Williams who had climbed over the fence into the yard and was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.
3rd Place: A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument.
2nd Place: Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware, successfully sued the owner of a night club in a neighbouring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out her two front teeth. This occurred while Ms.Walton was trying to sneak through the window in the ladies room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.
1st Place: This year's run away winner was Mrs. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mrs Grazinski purchased a brand new 32-foot Winnebago motor home. On her first trip home, (from an OU football game), having driven onto the freeway, she set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the drivers seat to go into the back and make herself a sandwich. Not surprisingly, the RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mrs.Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising her in the owner's manual that she couldn't actually do this. The jury awarded her $1,750,000 plus a new motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit, just in case there were any other complete morons around.
The 'Stella' Awards
The Stellas are named after 81 year-old Stella Liebeck who spilled coffee on herself and successfully sued McDonald's. That case inspired the Stella awards for the most frivolous, ridiculous, successful lawsuits in the United States.
Here are the 2009 winners:
5th Place (tie): Kathleen Robertson of Austin, Texas, was awarded $780,000 by a jury of her peers after breaking her ankle tripping over a toddler who was running inside a furniture store. The owners of the store were understandably surprised at the verdict, considering the misbehaving little toddler was Ms. Robertson's son.
5th Place (tie): 19-year-old Carl Truman of Los Angeles won $74,000 and medical expenses when his neighbour ran over his hand with a Honda Accord. Mr. Truman apparently didn't notice there was someone at the wheel of the car when he was trying to steal his neighbour's hubcaps.
5th Place (tie): Terrence Dickson of Bristol, Pennsylvania, was leaving a house he had just finished robbing by way of the garage. He was not able to get the garage door to go up since the automatic door opener was malfunctioning. He couldn't re-enter the house because the door connecting the house and garage locked when he pulled it shut. The family was on vacation, and Mr. Dickson found himself locked in the garage for eight days. He subsisted on a case of Pepsi he found, and a large bag of dry dog food. He sued the homeowner's insurance claiming the situation caused him undue mental anguish. The jury agreed to the tune of $500,000.
4th Place: Jerry Williams of Little Rock, Arkansas, was awarded $14,500 and medical expenses after being bitten on the buttocks by his next door neighbour's beagle. The beagle was on a chain in its owner's fenced yard. The award was less than sought because the jury felt the dog might have been just a little provoked at the time by Mr. Williams who had climbed over the fence into the yard and was shooting it repeatedly with a pellet gun.
3rd Place: A Philadelphia restaurant was ordered to pay Amber Carson of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, $113,500 after she slipped on a soft drink and broke her coccyx (tailbone). The beverage was on the floor because Ms. Carson had thrown it at her boyfriend 30 seconds earlier during an argument.
2nd Place: Kara Walton of Claymont, Delaware, successfully sued the owner of a night club in a neighbouring city when she fell from the bathroom window to the floor and knocked out her two front teeth. This occurred while Ms.Walton was trying to sneak through the window in the ladies room to avoid paying the $3.50 cover charge. She was awarded $12,000 and dental expenses.
1st Place: This year's run away winner was Mrs. Merv Grazinski of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. Mrs Grazinski purchased a brand new 32-foot Winnebago motor home. On her first trip home, (from an OU football game), having driven onto the freeway, she set the cruise control at 70 mph and calmly left the drivers seat to go into the back and make herself a sandwich. Not surprisingly, the RV left the freeway, crashed and overturned. Mrs.Grazinski sued Winnebago for not advising her in the owner's manual that she couldn't actually do this. The jury awarded her $1,750,000 plus a new motor home. The company actually changed their manuals on the basis of this suit, just in case there were any other complete morons around.
Spirt and Things Spooky cont ...
Some years ago a friend suggested that I visit a medium who was a good friend of hers. Initially I was sceptical but after due thought I agreed. This medium, a lady in her late thirties whom I had never met previously, seemed just like anyone else when we met at her home one evening, we chatted inconsequentially for a while then she suggested that we go to her reading room. To cut a long story shortand she told me that she saw people standing behind me and proceeded very accurately to describe my father, mother, grandfather, what they were wearing which was just so accurate amongst many other things.
She also described my mother's favourite purse of which I have never seen another like it and that she kept an eternity ring with one stone missing in it. Very true because I was fascinated with this purse and particularly the ring within. As to the future she foretold that within five years or so I would be living abroad! The reason that I escaped serious injury during my racing years she said is because that initially I had two guardian angels, my mother and a drunk Egyptian man who was in fact English and called Fred. This latter piece of information someone else had told me thirty years previously. My third angel is my father after he died in the early 1980s. The taps on my shoulder some years before she said was my mother trying to reassure me that all would be well, eventually as. I was then going through a very difficult period in my personal life and that she was watching over me.
There was much else that she revealed and she could not have known any of my early life because together they were things that only close family and I could possibly know. I came away more than amazed at what I had been told and particularly how accurate things past were.
For several years before my visit I had begun waking two r three times a week at 4.44am. I thought it was probably a local milkman doing his round, but I never heard any delivery type sounds. Then occasionally the same thing was happening at 3.33am again with no obvious reason. Finally another wake up call was also now at 3.03am, seldom all three or even twice on the same morning. Naturally I was intrigued so had a wade around the web to see if it might shed any light. several hits reckoned that this phenomena was not as uncommon as one might think and all reckoned that it is an attempt at communication from the spirit world. My seer, Linda, confirmed that idea and that the 4.44 awakening was my father, 3.33 my mother and the 3.03 was my grandfather, the connection there being that he was a soldier in the Great War and the standard weapon issue was the Lee Enfield .303 rifle. I still sometimes awake at these times invariably with a comfortable feeling of inner warmth no matter how chilly our bedroom becomes in winter.
In recent years I have often felt that I am not alone, no, I'm not becoming paranoid, that someone is nearby, nothing tangible at all but nonetheless an awareness. Before we moved I felt this frequently in my office at home which was detached from our bungalow, most often with a late, close and great mate who lost his life in a motorcycle racing accident. Others also were sometimes around me, nothing perturbing or frightening, just a pleasant, almost comforting feeling.
I feel most strongly a sense of having company at a particular motorcycle racing circuit where I have spent many happy hours and days in the company of good friends who are no longer with us. It matters not whether the circuit is totally quiet and empty as on weekdays or at a weekend with all the noise and excitement of a meeting, they are always there with me. People close to me know that I wish my ashes to go there when it is my time, often I refer to this place as my spiritual home.
Having moved abroad a few years ago now my 'friends' have followed me. I still know that sometimes someone is there, sometimes in odd ways such as in our downstairs bedroom and up on our middle floor there is occasionally the odour of Golden Virginia tobacco smoke, a very distinct smell that my father always smoked. There are other occasional smells too that are personal to me in the house.
Well, what else can I add? Am I slowly losing 'it'? If so then that has been gradually happening for many years. Have I become more sensitive and attuned to things ethereal or are those from elsewhere trying ever harder to communicate? I don't really know but I do know that there is more to being than just the present.
Monday, 23 August 2010
Cats
Just that - cats! I love cats and really enjoy having them around, good company, sometimes amusing and entertaining as well as just a tad unpredictable.
When we moved here six years ago we also brought our cats Smudge and Socks with us. Smudge was a white nad silver tabby of about five years and Socks a brown tabby with four white paws, about four years older than Smudge. I always felt very protective to Socks because she is such a small cat and very, very pretty. Each with their very own different personalities and habits as well as almost psychic eeriness!
Smudge suffered quite badly in recent years with hairballs, several vet's consultations found the right treatment for her at home when another incident occurred. We came home late one qfternoon last October and Smudge was looking sorry for herself on our downstairs bed - we had been treating her for another hairball for a few days so was a little under the weather. She went out a little while after our return, nothing unusual there. Come bedtime she had not returned, now thet was unusual - we called her but no-show. Waited up a while with no joy so we went to bed fully expecting her to cry to be let in. The next morning still no Smudge so we had a cursory look around outside to see if she was there - no Smudge. That evening and the following day despite our efforts to find her - no Smudge.
Jane asked me to print some photos and create a 'Lost' poster to be posted locally. Several days later - no Smudge. We believe that she had wandered off deliberately as some cats do when they are vey unwell and wish to pass away in seclusion, this had happened with our Timothy a year or so after we moved from London. Time passed - no Smudge and we resigned ourselves to the fact that she had indeed gone. We were both quite upset at losing her because she was one of our family but at least we still had Socks.
Some several weeks ago Socks was looking a little thin and was not eating very well so a trip to the vet was in the offing. Now Socks is psychic, knowing when we are out to catch her whether for anti-flea treatment or a vet visit and will deliberately avoid coming to close, normally she is a lap cat. After ten days or so Jane managed to catch her, off she went to see Monsieur Marquis, a very gentle, kind, expert vet and one whom the ladies generally seem to find somewhat dishy!
M. Marquis gave her the usual feline MoT, she grumbled ferociously when he took her temperature, then, despite weighing no more than a bag of sugar, she flatly refused to let him look in her mouth. His next ploy was to use a small gag type device to look in her mouth - she was having no truck with that idea, promptly bit him and retreated to her traveling basket. His diagnosis was probably a tooth abscess as her third eyelid was closing slightly caused by pressure behind that eye, the other possibility was a tumour behind her eye. Two injections and a course of antibiotics were prescribed and she returned home to keep her by now standard two metre safety zone from those horrible humans.
A further trip one week later as she was still no better - the vet did his usual checks including trying to look in her mouth again. Result? Socks 1 - Vet 0! He also warned that she may not survive much longer and to bring her back when we felt it was necessary so neither of us were filled with joy at this news.
Fast forward to last Friday. Socks went out about 0900 having spent the previous day on the bed and having eaten nothing. Quite often in the summer she will go out to find a cool shady spot where she will noy be disturbed and spen all day out there. Bedtime - no Socks despite calling and looking for her in her favourite spots outside. I told Jane that I would wait up for her with the door open, about 0200 Jane came down from bed and asked if I was coming to bed - reluctantly I agreed.
Saturday morning - no Socks. Saturday bedtime - no Socks. Sunday morning - no Socks, we both agreed that she had most probably done a Smudge. We both were more than a little upset that she had gone.
Thos morning - Monday - we had just got up and were having pre-breakfast coffee, suddenly Socks trotted in on her way to the kitchen with not a hint that she had been AWOL for seventy two hours, demanded to be fed, had a long drink and retreated to her upstairs boudoir, our bedroom. A few minutes after Jane called me to show a tiny double tooth that she had found next to Socks' food dish. We reckon that she had a tooth abscess that burst reliving the pressure on the tooth and it just came out while she was eating. Her eye is now open properly and everything seems to be normal again, thankfully.
When we moved here six years ago we also brought our cats Smudge and Socks with us. Smudge was a white nad silver tabby of about five years and Socks a brown tabby with four white paws, about four years older than Smudge. I always felt very protective to Socks because she is such a small cat and very, very pretty. Each with their very own different personalities and habits as well as almost psychic eeriness!
Smudge suffered quite badly in recent years with hairballs, several vet's consultations found the right treatment for her at home when another incident occurred. We came home late one qfternoon last October and Smudge was looking sorry for herself on our downstairs bed - we had been treating her for another hairball for a few days so was a little under the weather. She went out a little while after our return, nothing unusual there. Come bedtime she had not returned, now thet was unusual - we called her but no-show. Waited up a while with no joy so we went to bed fully expecting her to cry to be let in. The next morning still no Smudge so we had a cursory look around outside to see if she was there - no Smudge. That evening and the following day despite our efforts to find her - no Smudge.
Jane asked me to print some photos and create a 'Lost' poster to be posted locally. Several days later - no Smudge. We believe that she had wandered off deliberately as some cats do when they are vey unwell and wish to pass away in seclusion, this had happened with our Timothy a year or so after we moved from London. Time passed - no Smudge and we resigned ourselves to the fact that she had indeed gone. We were both quite upset at losing her because she was one of our family but at least we still had Socks.
Some several weeks ago Socks was looking a little thin and was not eating very well so a trip to the vet was in the offing. Now Socks is psychic, knowing when we are out to catch her whether for anti-flea treatment or a vet visit and will deliberately avoid coming to close, normally she is a lap cat. After ten days or so Jane managed to catch her, off she went to see Monsieur Marquis, a very gentle, kind, expert vet and one whom the ladies generally seem to find somewhat dishy!
M. Marquis gave her the usual feline MoT, she grumbled ferociously when he took her temperature, then, despite weighing no more than a bag of sugar, she flatly refused to let him look in her mouth. His next ploy was to use a small gag type device to look in her mouth - she was having no truck with that idea, promptly bit him and retreated to her traveling basket. His diagnosis was probably a tooth abscess as her third eyelid was closing slightly caused by pressure behind that eye, the other possibility was a tumour behind her eye. Two injections and a course of antibiotics were prescribed and she returned home to keep her by now standard two metre safety zone from those horrible humans.
A further trip one week later as she was still no better - the vet did his usual checks including trying to look in her mouth again. Result? Socks 1 - Vet 0! He also warned that she may not survive much longer and to bring her back when we felt it was necessary so neither of us were filled with joy at this news.
Fast forward to last Friday. Socks went out about 0900 having spent the previous day on the bed and having eaten nothing. Quite often in the summer she will go out to find a cool shady spot where she will noy be disturbed and spen all day out there. Bedtime - no Socks despite calling and looking for her in her favourite spots outside. I told Jane that I would wait up for her with the door open, about 0200 Jane came down from bed and asked if I was coming to bed - reluctantly I agreed.
Saturday morning - no Socks. Saturday bedtime - no Socks. Sunday morning - no Socks, we both agreed that she had most probably done a Smudge. We both were more than a little upset that she had gone.
Thos morning - Monday - we had just got up and were having pre-breakfast coffee, suddenly Socks trotted in on her way to the kitchen with not a hint that she had been AWOL for seventy two hours, demanded to be fed, had a long drink and retreated to her upstairs boudoir, our bedroom. A few minutes after Jane called me to show a tiny double tooth that she had found next to Socks' food dish. We reckon that she had a tooth abscess that burst reliving the pressure on the tooth and it just came out while she was eating. Her eye is now open properly and everything seems to be normal again, thankfully.
Sunday, 22 August 2010
Odds & ends ...
To end the episode of the edible dormouse in our neighbours house, it was caught yesterday afternoon in a trap in indoors. It was only a baby and their daughter wanted to keep it a as a pet, after all they are cute and appealing. Parental wisdom prevailed with the prisoner released in a nearby field. The question is will it return?
Local report - set to reach 37° later this afternoon with similar temperatures for the rest of the week. The occasional evening thunderstorm is forecast too, usually at this time of year with very little rain. These are just totally spectacular electric storms in the traditional French style of son et lumiére that can last six or seven hours at a time. One minor difficulty is that these generally upset Sky TV reception to the point that the service is completely disrupted. Doesn't really matter as there is little worth watching in the evenings!
Speaking of son et lumiére we went with friends last weekend to watch one of the Battle of Castillon, the ultimate battle of the Hundred Years War resulting in the English being kicked out of France. This takes place in a huge natural amphitheatre late in the evening with a chateau on the hilltop overlooking the arena. As a spectacle it is the biggest and best thing that I have ever seen, so much so that last weekend was the third time that I have seen it! Unfortunately it only runs mid-July to mid-August each year but I would urghe that anyone coming to our part of France really should see it. The only downside is that I have yet to be back home from it earlier than about three in the morning.
Last Sunday we went to a lunch in our local village hall to celebrate the Day of the Assumption of the Virgin. Given that France is a secular country they manage to have quite a number of public holidays during the year for religious festivals. The menu was seven courses, an excellent meal, naturally with aperitifs to start and a digestif to finish over a period of about five hours or so. Everyone is kept entertained between courses with various local folk telling jokes, singing, playing the accordion and a raffle. Each year we go to seven or eight of these in our local commune as they are very enjoyable as well as social occasions, again these are something that we try to encourage friends or family who visit us to be here for one of these.
Speaking of food there is another tradition in our region during July and August, effectively the French holiday season, of villages and towns having a weekly night market. Our nearest is the picturesque, ancient village of Villeréal, held under cover of the old market hall. Local growers, producers and wine growers display cook and sell their wares, lamb, escargot, moules mariniéres, wine of course, bread, cakes and pastries, pizzas, dry cured ham; foie gras, duck, chips, cheese and much else. Having bought your selection there are tables and chairs set out under the hall, many people eat en famille or with groups of friends in a delightful, convivial atmosphere. Later in the evening there is always entertainment, again locally grown such as a group, an accordionist, folklore dancers etc. These evenings are always most appreciated by everyone, not least visitors because there is nowt quite like it in England.
In the woods near our home there are resident buzzards, beautiful birds that we see soaring, riding the thermals most days over the valley; This time of year their chicks have fledged, normally two, and the parents are teaching them to fly properly. We often hear the parents calling to the young ones before we see them in a very palintive single note call. Then we'll go out onto our deck to watch wonder and marvel at just how graceful, elegant and effortlessly they soar in the sky fo ages before returning to their roost in the woods. We also had a red squirrel scamper across the deck yesterday morning, there are a good number locally without any of their grey cousins for company.
In one way summer is almost over here because the national holiday season ends at the end of August and visitor numbers drop considerably with mainly English holidaymakers remaining. This means that local restaurant prices revert to non-summer prices, tables are easier to reserve, shops are less crowded and parking is easier. What it does not mean that weatherewise summer is over, far from it, September is frequently hot and dry, October is still shirtsleeves and shorts time, only in mid-late November does autumn start to show itself. Meantime leave the suncream handy, plenty of water to drink plus the odd bottle of local wine and just enjoy our good fortune living where we do.
Local report - set to reach 37° later this afternoon with similar temperatures for the rest of the week. The occasional evening thunderstorm is forecast too, usually at this time of year with very little rain. These are just totally spectacular electric storms in the traditional French style of son et lumiére that can last six or seven hours at a time. One minor difficulty is that these generally upset Sky TV reception to the point that the service is completely disrupted. Doesn't really matter as there is little worth watching in the evenings!
Speaking of son et lumiére we went with friends last weekend to watch one of the Battle of Castillon, the ultimate battle of the Hundred Years War resulting in the English being kicked out of France. This takes place in a huge natural amphitheatre late in the evening with a chateau on the hilltop overlooking the arena. As a spectacle it is the biggest and best thing that I have ever seen, so much so that last weekend was the third time that I have seen it! Unfortunately it only runs mid-July to mid-August each year but I would urghe that anyone coming to our part of France really should see it. The only downside is that I have yet to be back home from it earlier than about three in the morning.
Last Sunday we went to a lunch in our local village hall to celebrate the Day of the Assumption of the Virgin. Given that France is a secular country they manage to have quite a number of public holidays during the year for religious festivals. The menu was seven courses, an excellent meal, naturally with aperitifs to start and a digestif to finish over a period of about five hours or so. Everyone is kept entertained between courses with various local folk telling jokes, singing, playing the accordion and a raffle. Each year we go to seven or eight of these in our local commune as they are very enjoyable as well as social occasions, again these are something that we try to encourage friends or family who visit us to be here for one of these.
Speaking of food there is another tradition in our region during July and August, effectively the French holiday season, of villages and towns having a weekly night market. Our nearest is the picturesque, ancient village of Villeréal, held under cover of the old market hall. Local growers, producers and wine growers display cook and sell their wares, lamb, escargot, moules mariniéres, wine of course, bread, cakes and pastries, pizzas, dry cured ham; foie gras, duck, chips, cheese and much else. Having bought your selection there are tables and chairs set out under the hall, many people eat en famille or with groups of friends in a delightful, convivial atmosphere. Later in the evening there is always entertainment, again locally grown such as a group, an accordionist, folklore dancers etc. These evenings are always most appreciated by everyone, not least visitors because there is nowt quite like it in England.
In the woods near our home there are resident buzzards, beautiful birds that we see soaring, riding the thermals most days over the valley; This time of year their chicks have fledged, normally two, and the parents are teaching them to fly properly. We often hear the parents calling to the young ones before we see them in a very palintive single note call. Then we'll go out onto our deck to watch wonder and marvel at just how graceful, elegant and effortlessly they soar in the sky fo ages before returning to their roost in the woods. We also had a red squirrel scamper across the deck yesterday morning, there are a good number locally without any of their grey cousins for company.
In one way summer is almost over here because the national holiday season ends at the end of August and visitor numbers drop considerably with mainly English holidaymakers remaining. This means that local restaurant prices revert to non-summer prices, tables are easier to reserve, shops are less crowded and parking is easier. What it does not mean that weatherewise summer is over, far from it, September is frequently hot and dry, October is still shirtsleeves and shorts time, only in mid-late November does autumn start to show itself. Meantime leave the suncream handy, plenty of water to drink plus the odd bottle of local wine and just enjoy our good fortune living where we do.
Saturday, 21 August 2010
Glis glis
That's right, glis glis? No, I haven't gone gaga yet, it is the Latin name for the edible dormouse or le loir in France, introduced into the UK by the Romans. For them it was a delicacy for the table but for most people today it is a pest. Common throughout mainland Europe and the UK today it is a protected species despite wreaking havoc and causing sleepless nights for those with whom it chooses to live.
Dormice are an attractive, cute looking mammal with large dark eyes and that is where any cuddly factor ends. Just after we moved into our home a loir decided to move into the roof space above our bedroom, being nocturnal in habit it did not want to sleep when we did. Apart from disturbed nights the other main factor is the awful smell from excreted waste matter it was soon obvious that an eviction was paramount.
There are a number of ways to be rid of them, the obvious path being to set a trap. Not a practical idea as the roof space is only some six inches deep and virtually inaccessible without major structural alterations! They like to sleep during the day and hate being disturbed whilst sleeping so the obvious tactic was to make noise in the day, as loud and as frequently as possible. When we went out we left a radio playing loudly in the bedroom, thankfully we have no immediate neighbours who may have complained. We could not stand the racket of French pop music so a different approach was needed. Our bedroom roof is supported by a pyramid of large timbers which is a superb piece of carpentry, by knocking loudly on these beams with a broom at random times during the day the desired effect was achieved - said loir packed its bags and left within a couple of days.
Our neighbours now have had a resident loir for several days, not in the preferred lair of roof space but in their ten year old daughter's bedroom who awoke startled in the middle of the night because of scratchings in her bedside cabinet. Naturally she ran to wake her parents, she spent the rest of the night with them. That morning it was decided to search her room to find the iunwanted intruder but given the more than chaotic state of her room a major turnout was necessary. Naturally this led to tears as it seemed a good opportunity to sort out no longer used or now unloved toys and dolls, the positive side was that a number of long lost little treasures were rediscovered which somewhat made up for others being got rid of! After half a day of searching had passed - no loir.
Plan B was put into action, several mouse traps baited with chocolate and apple were set. The following morning found all of the traps to have been looted of their tasy morsels but still no loir. Plan C was next, use a small trap such as that used by local hunters for rabbits etc. The trap was set with part of a banana as bait. Next morning the bait had gone, the trap was sprung and voila, one loir. The next step was to remove the trapped mammal from its cage, that's where it all went wrong - the loir escaped!
Our neighbours have two cats, one of whom is a veracious hunter so last night Plan D was set in motion - shut said hunter in the bedroom overnight. So far today no sign of the loir nor of Mille having caught it.
The saga continues ...
Dormice are an attractive, cute looking mammal with large dark eyes and that is where any cuddly factor ends. Just after we moved into our home a loir decided to move into the roof space above our bedroom, being nocturnal in habit it did not want to sleep when we did. Apart from disturbed nights the other main factor is the awful smell from excreted waste matter it was soon obvious that an eviction was paramount.
There are a number of ways to be rid of them, the obvious path being to set a trap. Not a practical idea as the roof space is only some six inches deep and virtually inaccessible without major structural alterations! They like to sleep during the day and hate being disturbed whilst sleeping so the obvious tactic was to make noise in the day, as loud and as frequently as possible. When we went out we left a radio playing loudly in the bedroom, thankfully we have no immediate neighbours who may have complained. We could not stand the racket of French pop music so a different approach was needed. Our bedroom roof is supported by a pyramid of large timbers which is a superb piece of carpentry, by knocking loudly on these beams with a broom at random times during the day the desired effect was achieved - said loir packed its bags and left within a couple of days.
Our neighbours now have had a resident loir for several days, not in the preferred lair of roof space but in their ten year old daughter's bedroom who awoke startled in the middle of the night because of scratchings in her bedside cabinet. Naturally she ran to wake her parents, she spent the rest of the night with them. That morning it was decided to search her room to find the iunwanted intruder but given the more than chaotic state of her room a major turnout was necessary. Naturally this led to tears as it seemed a good opportunity to sort out no longer used or now unloved toys and dolls, the positive side was that a number of long lost little treasures were rediscovered which somewhat made up for others being got rid of! After half a day of searching had passed - no loir.
Plan B was put into action, several mouse traps baited with chocolate and apple were set. The following morning found all of the traps to have been looted of their tasy morsels but still no loir. Plan C was next, use a small trap such as that used by local hunters for rabbits etc. The trap was set with part of a banana as bait. Next morning the bait had gone, the trap was sprung and voila, one loir. The next step was to remove the trapped mammal from its cage, that's where it all went wrong - the loir escaped!
Our neighbours have two cats, one of whom is a veracious hunter so last night Plan D was set in motion - shut said hunter in the bedroom overnight. So far today no sign of the loir nor of Mille having caught it.
The saga continues ...
Friday, 20 August 2010
Spirits and things spooky ...
Do you ever wonder in odd, idle moments about things ethereal, intangible, the afterlife and if there is such a thing? I suppose that a number of folk may in all sorts of ways irrespective of religious beliefs.
For a long while I have occasionally thought about such things, perhaps more so in latter years. There have been a number of odd events in my life for which there are no reasonable explanations, I am one of those people who need plausible explanations for things. This questioning attitude became even ever more common after my not so distant days at Uni where I was taught to challenge why things are the way that they are. Not in any revolutionary sense but just as a way of better understanding things around me in everyday life and beyond. What I am saying, I suppose, is not to accept things blindly but to reach for the core truths, the fundamentals if you like.
In nearly all matters an answer may be found, how or why something works not only in the mechanical or electrical sense but government, relationships, all manner of things. This has led me in many directions over the years, one such is what happens to us after death. Sorry to use the 'D' word as in many circles it is considered improper or too near the truth, some preferring ' passed on' or 'passed over' and many other euphemisms but dying is what we all inevitably do!
Something very odd happened to me in my mid-teens, more than odd in fact. Picture the scene, Halloween Eve around eight o'clock, dark, chilly, slightly misty with few people about. I was cycling along Bell Lane, Enfield near Albany Park School to see my girlfriend as I did most evenings taking the same route. Pedalling along happily I gradually became aware that things were not the same as usual. A large shape was gradually forming before me on my side of the road. As it grew closer and larger yet ever more distinct I could make out that it was an old style coach pulled by four horses with the driver atop his box.
As it drew ever nearer I realised that it appeared to be about a foot or so above the road and that the apparition was making noise whatsoever. Just as I thought I was about to be run down I rode between the two pairs of horses, the driver on his box seemed not to have noticed me continuing to urge the team on. The front of the coach passed me and I had fleeting glimpses of passengers in what might have been Georgian style dress inside the passenger compartment. Just as suddenly as this experience began it was then over. I stopped and turned to look behind me in the direction the coach was travelling – there was nothing to see and no evidence except in my mind that anything untoward had happened.
Subsequent research with the help of a close friend who was the editor of our local newspaper, the Enfield Gazette, shed some light on historical facts. The coach was travelling on a west to east route and that there had indeed been a regular stage route there in the 18th and early 19th centuries to Colchester and Harwich. The route locally was via Hoe Lane and then into Bell Lane towards the River Lea where there was a fording point. Within a few weeks of this event we discovered that a small number of readers had also shared the same experience, not in the exact same location but generally along the Hoe Lane/Bell Lane route.
As you may imagine I was somewhat confused by this encounter and sought answers, information, anything that might help me rationalise or understand what I know that I had seen. At the time I did not find any satisfactory explanation as to what had happened or why.
Let's move on ten years or so. At the time I was a London Transport bus inspector, you know the bloke, stands on street corners all day with a clip board in hand watching the totty pass by. It was on a quiet, Monday autumn evening towards midnight that I was standing in my little box near the top of Barnet Hill. There were no buses on the stand, I was totally alone. Whilst writing the day's events in the log book I thought that I felt a light double tap on my left shoulder. Turning to see who was there I was a little surprised to find nobody there. Putting it down to imagination I ignored it. Some twenty minutes later there was a further tap on my shoulder, yet again I was completely alone. Nothing further happened for several years.
One night again I was alone at work this time in the traffic office of an East London bus garage. There was I secure in the knowledge that there was nobody else in the office apart from myself, all the doors were locked and windows shut when suddenly I sensed that I was not alone. I looked round, nobody behind me so I checked the office and found nothing out of the ordinary. By now I was certain that I was not alone but there was nothing that showed otherwise, it was just a feeling, that’s all. I was not frightened nor even perturbed, in fact I felt quite calm and reassured by it.
These were the first occasions that anything like this had happened to me. Such things have recurred many times since, not only in places where I have been alone but in public, busy places too. Determined to discover what might be happening I spoke to a close friend in confidence whom I knew had experienced some similar things. She suggested that I speak with a trusted friend, which I did a few weeks later ...
Perhaps more to follow shortly ...
For a long while I have occasionally thought about such things, perhaps more so in latter years. There have been a number of odd events in my life for which there are no reasonable explanations, I am one of those people who need plausible explanations for things. This questioning attitude became even ever more common after my not so distant days at Uni where I was taught to challenge why things are the way that they are. Not in any revolutionary sense but just as a way of better understanding things around me in everyday life and beyond. What I am saying, I suppose, is not to accept things blindly but to reach for the core truths, the fundamentals if you like.
In nearly all matters an answer may be found, how or why something works not only in the mechanical or electrical sense but government, relationships, all manner of things. This has led me in many directions over the years, one such is what happens to us after death. Sorry to use the 'D' word as in many circles it is considered improper or too near the truth, some preferring ' passed on' or 'passed over' and many other euphemisms but dying is what we all inevitably do!
Something very odd happened to me in my mid-teens, more than odd in fact. Picture the scene, Halloween Eve around eight o'clock, dark, chilly, slightly misty with few people about. I was cycling along Bell Lane, Enfield near Albany Park School to see my girlfriend as I did most evenings taking the same route. Pedalling along happily I gradually became aware that things were not the same as usual. A large shape was gradually forming before me on my side of the road. As it grew closer and larger yet ever more distinct I could make out that it was an old style coach pulled by four horses with the driver atop his box.
As it drew ever nearer I realised that it appeared to be about a foot or so above the road and that the apparition was making noise whatsoever. Just as I thought I was about to be run down I rode between the two pairs of horses, the driver on his box seemed not to have noticed me continuing to urge the team on. The front of the coach passed me and I had fleeting glimpses of passengers in what might have been Georgian style dress inside the passenger compartment. Just as suddenly as this experience began it was then over. I stopped and turned to look behind me in the direction the coach was travelling – there was nothing to see and no evidence except in my mind that anything untoward had happened.
Subsequent research with the help of a close friend who was the editor of our local newspaper, the Enfield Gazette, shed some light on historical facts. The coach was travelling on a west to east route and that there had indeed been a regular stage route there in the 18th and early 19th centuries to Colchester and Harwich. The route locally was via Hoe Lane and then into Bell Lane towards the River Lea where there was a fording point. Within a few weeks of this event we discovered that a small number of readers had also shared the same experience, not in the exact same location but generally along the Hoe Lane/Bell Lane route.
As you may imagine I was somewhat confused by this encounter and sought answers, information, anything that might help me rationalise or understand what I know that I had seen. At the time I did not find any satisfactory explanation as to what had happened or why.
Let's move on ten years or so. At the time I was a London Transport bus inspector, you know the bloke, stands on street corners all day with a clip board in hand watching the totty pass by. It was on a quiet, Monday autumn evening towards midnight that I was standing in my little box near the top of Barnet Hill. There were no buses on the stand, I was totally alone. Whilst writing the day's events in the log book I thought that I felt a light double tap on my left shoulder. Turning to see who was there I was a little surprised to find nobody there. Putting it down to imagination I ignored it. Some twenty minutes later there was a further tap on my shoulder, yet again I was completely alone. Nothing further happened for several years.
One night again I was alone at work this time in the traffic office of an East London bus garage. There was I secure in the knowledge that there was nobody else in the office apart from myself, all the doors were locked and windows shut when suddenly I sensed that I was not alone. I looked round, nobody behind me so I checked the office and found nothing out of the ordinary. By now I was certain that I was not alone but there was nothing that showed otherwise, it was just a feeling, that’s all. I was not frightened nor even perturbed, in fact I felt quite calm and reassured by it.
These were the first occasions that anything like this had happened to me. Such things have recurred many times since, not only in places where I have been alone but in public, busy places too. Determined to discover what might be happening I spoke to a close friend in confidence whom I knew had experienced some similar things. She suggested that I speak with a trusted friend, which I did a few weeks later ...
Perhaps more to follow shortly ...
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Is it here yet?
Spring that is. Daffodils blooming in gardens and hedgerows; crocuses, snowdrops, trees budding, all sorts of birds singing each morning and the temperature this afternoon a gentle 14° with blue, sunny skies. The sound of our neighbour mowing the grass for the second time this year is even more springlike. Local farmers will soon be turning out cattle that have been over-wintered in deep litter barns, it will be a joy to see the giant but gentle Aquitaine Blondes out in the fields again, a sign that winter is truly over.
The lambs in nearby fields are now venturing away from their mums and sitting around in little groups, that also is always delightful to see each year. Hedgesparrows have returned to our fir tree screen as have our pair of doves whom we feed with seed on the decking in front of our home, they are aslo busy nest building, our magpies are refurbishing last years nest in between fighting off marauding rooks and the odd red squirrel or two. Soon the hoopoes will be back with their very distinctive triple whooping call and their gorgeous red crests that look like miniature rubber gloves. Our neighbourhood green woodpecker has been very busy in the past week or so, don't often see him but hear him almost every day.
Two pairs of buzzards that live a few hundred metres away in the woods have been getting increasingly more air time recently, soaring and effortlessly wheeling in the sky, calling as thay fly. They are are for ever such a beautiful and magnificent sight that I never tire of watching.
Around this time of the year there has been an itinerant bunch of seven guinea fowl that have slowly ambled past constantly calling - wonder if they will return this year?
A final sign that spring is near is that our cat Socks is showing signs of wanting to go outside having virtually hibernated since the end of last November. Even I'm getting the urge now ...
The lambs in nearby fields are now venturing away from their mums and sitting around in little groups, that also is always delightful to see each year. Hedgesparrows have returned to our fir tree screen as have our pair of doves whom we feed with seed on the decking in front of our home, they are aslo busy nest building, our magpies are refurbishing last years nest in between fighting off marauding rooks and the odd red squirrel or two. Soon the hoopoes will be back with their very distinctive triple whooping call and their gorgeous red crests that look like miniature rubber gloves. Our neighbourhood green woodpecker has been very busy in the past week or so, don't often see him but hear him almost every day.
Two pairs of buzzards that live a few hundred metres away in the woods have been getting increasingly more air time recently, soaring and effortlessly wheeling in the sky, calling as thay fly. They are are for ever such a beautiful and magnificent sight that I never tire of watching.
Around this time of the year there has been an itinerant bunch of seven guinea fowl that have slowly ambled past constantly calling - wonder if they will return this year?
A final sign that spring is near is that our cat Socks is showing signs of wanting to go outside having virtually hibernated since the end of last November. Even I'm getting the urge now ...
Saturday, 6 March 2010
Odds 'n' Ends
Have not been at my brightest, scintillating best over the past few days and feeling a little more sociable yesterday we invited friends over for dinner in the evening. Apart from anything else it was an opportunity to play in the kitchen for the afternoon as well spending a convivial evening chez nous.
As usual the question of menu arose. I fancied cooking something just a little different so I had a rummage around on t'Web. One of my friends, despite a long RAF career with postings all over the world in the past and now retired, was to my incredulity an Indian cuisine virgin! Nevr, not no 'ow had he ever tried any dishes from the Indian sub-continent. We had discussed this a number of times and I thought the time was ripe. To be safe, however, I had a more Western style dish as well so that he could choose having sampled the Indian dish in the kitchen.
For a starter I prepared what seemed a bit of a gamble - 44 Garlic Clove Soup Must admit that I was a little concerned that any werewolves or vampires within a 50km radius might take to the hills ... Need not have worried about it as the finished dish was unbelievably subtle in taste and one of the nicest soups that I have ever tasted, relief all round as it was consumed with obvious relish and requests for seconds. Sadly there was only sufficient for four servings, but there's always another day.
Indian main course was one of my favourite curries, chicken passanda, very gentle, creamy with a hint of coconut and cream, subtle spices and no heat. My friend, having tasted it was very surprised as the the subtlety of the passanda and his face was a picture of delight! The otherdish which I had cooked which we are having for dinner this evening was a tartiflette, a traditional French dish with smoked lardons, onions, potatoes, white wine, creme fraiche and grated cheese cooked slowly in the oven.
It was very rewarding that the curry went down very well and was followed by a request for the recipe for all three dishes. The meal was accompanied by a naughty local rosé wine which we all like, then a dessert and coffee.
All in all a very pleasant evening spent in the company of very good friends.
As usual the question of menu arose. I fancied cooking something just a little different so I had a rummage around on t'Web. One of my friends, despite a long RAF career with postings all over the world in the past and now retired, was to my incredulity an Indian cuisine virgin! Nevr, not no 'ow had he ever tried any dishes from the Indian sub-continent. We had discussed this a number of times and I thought the time was ripe. To be safe, however, I had a more Western style dish as well so that he could choose having sampled the Indian dish in the kitchen.
For a starter I prepared what seemed a bit of a gamble - 44 Garlic Clove Soup Must admit that I was a little concerned that any werewolves or vampires within a 50km radius might take to the hills ... Need not have worried about it as the finished dish was unbelievably subtle in taste and one of the nicest soups that I have ever tasted, relief all round as it was consumed with obvious relish and requests for seconds. Sadly there was only sufficient for four servings, but there's always another day.
Indian main course was one of my favourite curries, chicken passanda, very gentle, creamy with a hint of coconut and cream, subtle spices and no heat. My friend, having tasted it was very surprised as the the subtlety of the passanda and his face was a picture of delight! The otherdish which I had cooked which we are having for dinner this evening was a tartiflette, a traditional French dish with smoked lardons, onions, potatoes, white wine, creme fraiche and grated cheese cooked slowly in the oven.
It was very rewarding that the curry went down very well and was followed by a request for the recipe for all three dishes. The meal was accompanied by a naughty local rosé wine which we all like, then a dessert and coffee.
All in all a very pleasant evening spent in the company of very good friends.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
'Tis a sad day
Ten years ago to the day I lost a very good mate and friend, died as a result of a sidecar racing accident in which his son as passenger miraculously sustained only light injuries. It was indeed a tragic event for everyone as he was a very popular man. What makes it worse for me is that I was not there at that meeting, something about which I have a certain guilt even now.
We and respective families spent many happy hours and fun times together whether racing or just socially and it is these times that I remember with much happiness. He was not the first friend, nor unfortunately the last over some fifty years or more for me, to be lost in as sport which they all loved passionately as I still do today.
Not only do I think of him today but all of the others too with sadness and affection and am grateful that I have had the privilege of knowing these great men, every one of them and having been a part of their world.
But it is not with only sadness that is today but with thanks and happiness of their memory.
Bless you Ray.
We and respective families spent many happy hours and fun times together whether racing or just socially and it is these times that I remember with much happiness. He was not the first friend, nor unfortunately the last over some fifty years or more for me, to be lost in as sport which they all loved passionately as I still do today.
Not only do I think of him today but all of the others too with sadness and affection and am grateful that I have had the privilege of knowing these great men, every one of them and having been a part of their world.
But it is not with only sadness that is today but with thanks and happiness of their memory.
Bless you Ray.
Monday, 1 March 2010
Storm Xynthia
This weekend has seen considerable damage along the French Atlantic coast caused by the storm Xynthia with a loss af almost fifty lives. Mercifully it has now abated buit is heading north to Belgium, Holland, Germant and Denmark.
Thankfully in our little bit of France we got away lightly with very strong winds and heavy rain during Saturday/Sunday night. Strongest winds locally were recorded at Bergerac airport at some 120kph. A number of properties in the area were left without electricity including the regional meteorological centre at the airport.
Locally there was little damage caused, just a few tree branches dislodged and the land becoming ever more sodden. Living some 500 plus feet above sea level we are not exactly at risk of flooding but it is very disconcerting that our local water table is only some six inches or so belowground level in the lowest part of our garden!
More rain forecast for the latter part of this week but at least it is now returning to normal temperatures for the time of year, maximum of around 15°C daily accompanied by some sun. Must be improving as our cat, Socks, is beginning to venture out after her winter's hibernation ...
Thankfully in our little bit of France we got away lightly with very strong winds and heavy rain during Saturday/Sunday night. Strongest winds locally were recorded at Bergerac airport at some 120kph. A number of properties in the area were left without electricity including the regional meteorological centre at the airport.
Locally there was little damage caused, just a few tree branches dislodged and the land becoming ever more sodden. Living some 500 plus feet above sea level we are not exactly at risk of flooding but it is very disconcerting that our local water table is only some six inches or so belowground level in the lowest part of our garden!
More rain forecast for the latter part of this week but at least it is now returning to normal temperatures for the time of year, maximum of around 15°C daily accompanied by some sun. Must be improving as our cat, Socks, is beginning to venture out after her winter's hibernation ...
Sunday, 28 February 2010
Grandmas
This really made I larff !
A 6-tear old was asked by his teacher where his Grandma lives.
"Oh", he said, she lives at the airport. When we want to see her we just go and get her in the car. When we've had enough oif her visiting we take her back there."
Now I cannot get rid of the mental image of a large hangar at Bergerac airport full of grannies ...
A 6-tear old was asked by his teacher where his Grandma lives.
"Oh", he said, she lives at the airport. When we want to see her we just go and get her in the car. When we've had enough oif her visiting we take her back there."
Now I cannot get rid of the mental image of a large hangar at Bergerac airport full of grannies ...
Saturday, 27 February 2010
UK Television News
Just been watching the news on several UK TV channels and without exception they are all majoring on one item - a childish spat between two footballers. Apparently caused because one could not keep his dick in his pants and the other has now spat his dummy out and refuses to play for his country.
Why is this of such vital import when the domestic economy has collapsed, a major catastrophe has just occurred in Chile, desperate times still in Zimbabwe and many other imperative matters going on.
Who cares if an overpaid, overinflated ego of someone whose only apparent skill is kicking an inflated pig's bladder is wounded because of an infidelity? I for one certainly do not.
Now happily going back to Today on Radio 4 for some sensible news reporting ...
Why is this of such vital import when the domestic economy has collapsed, a major catastrophe has just occurred in Chile, desperate times still in Zimbabwe and many other imperative matters going on.
Who cares if an overpaid, overinflated ego of someone whose only apparent skill is kicking an inflated pig's bladder is wounded because of an infidelity? I for one certainly do not.
Now happily going back to Today on Radio 4 for some sensible news reporting ...
Friday, 26 February 2010
Yet another recall
Mr God, yesterday
Initial reports of blithering idiocy emerged from the United States last year but these were thought to be isolated incidents caused by people who are so thick that if a floormat was touching their accelerator pedal would prefer to scream ‘Aaaaaaargh’ until they drove into a river rather than simply moving the mat backwards with their foot. However, it now seems the monumental stupidity is more widespread and may cause some Human Beings to decide that the best course of action in the event of being in a car with a throttle that won’t release is to telephone someone rather than to, for example, put the fucking car into neutral and bring it to a halt using the brakes as normal.
Jesus Christ, a member of the original God family who now runs his Father’s business, is expected to make a full statement shortly. In the meantime, the Archbishop of Canterbury, a senior manager at God’s UK operation, has told reporters that there are almost certainly Human Beings here in Britain that will need to be examined for signs of being so sodding thick that they probably shouldn’t have a driving licence in the first place. “It’s too early to say how this might affect people in the UK,” Mr Canterbury is quoted as saying. “But we have every reason to believe that there are some Human Beings that may being so brain fartingly stupid that if the throttle in their car became stuck, they would never think simply to depress the clutch and coast to a halt”.
However, it is understood that God’s representatives in the UK are keen to manage any recall as quickly and efficiently as possible, thereby minimising the number of mithering suburban twats who ring in to the Jeremy Vine show on Radio 2 and witter on about how they’re too scared to drive their Yaris to such a blindingly crass degree that listeners eventually start to get a sense of what it would be like if the editor of the Daily Mail did a stool into a syringe and then used it to inject vile reactionary shit into their ears.
As God seeks to clarify the extent of the stupidity problem and establish how many Human Beings will need to be recalled, theologians have been assessing just what has caused the problem of quite extraordinarily thick behaviour in the first place. “I suspect the problem lies in the rather clever engineering God has given the Human Being,” noted Dr Peter Peter Cockandballs of St Gobain College, Oxford. “The modern Human Being is actually remarkably durable and reliable, capable of lasting well over 80 years, but among its clever systems is something called Cognitive Reasoning. Normally this works very well, but over time Human Beings get used to being spoon fed blindingly obvious information such as those signs on motorways that say ‘fog’, and eventually they can just give up trying to have any discernment or ability to think rationally. Basically, the Human Being becomes a stupid moron. Hence the popularly of ITV’s Loose Women”.
Thursday, 25 February 2010
Almost here ...
Spring, that is. Arrives some six weeks or so earlier here than in the UK and very welcome it is too. We are enjoying mild weather with some sun and showers, crocuses, daffodils and snowdrops are all popping up. The days are lengthening quite quickly too, not getting dark until turned seven in the evening now.
Our local magpies are busy nest building in between fending off the marauding rooks, our two doves returned a few days ago and will probably be here until late October. We have seen, and heard in the past week or so several huge flocks of cranes heading back to Russia to breed, one of nature's truly magnificent spectacles.
This weekend coming is the last of the annual hunting season so our local wildlife (deer, wild boars, hares ducks and game birds) will now have peace and quiet again until September when the new season begins.
March is almost here, that means the start of the sidecar racing season. I hope to get to a number of French meetings this season as well one or two back in England. One of the few things that I really miss about the UK is the great number of meetings every season to watch whereas they are relatively few here, not made any easier due to the size of France and that we live only two hundred miles from the Spanish border.
"Spring has sprung,
The grass has riz.
We know where the birdies is ..."
Our local magpies are busy nest building in between fending off the marauding rooks, our two doves returned a few days ago and will probably be here until late October. We have seen, and heard in the past week or so several huge flocks of cranes heading back to Russia to breed, one of nature's truly magnificent spectacles.
This weekend coming is the last of the annual hunting season so our local wildlife (deer, wild boars, hares ducks and game birds) will now have peace and quiet again until September when the new season begins.
March is almost here, that means the start of the sidecar racing season. I hope to get to a number of French meetings this season as well one or two back in England. One of the few things that I really miss about the UK is the great number of meetings every season to watch whereas they are relatively few here, not made any easier due to the size of France and that we live only two hundred miles from the Spanish border.
"Spring has sprung,
The grass has riz.
We know where the birdies is ..."
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