Pretty pictures

Dear Daughter (13) didn't appreciate twelve hour's on the road - with our labrador at her feet!

Our beaded curtain keeps out the flies.

The local wildlife is extremely well fed.

Penascal is my new tipple - especially on a hot sunny day.

Sunset on the Costa Calida

Looks like I'll have to learn Spanish now!!!

Wish me luck!

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Warning, this post is in bad taste! Read on at your peril!

The French government have sent me several letters since I turned 50 about diagnosing bowel cancer. The accompanying blurb said that next time I went to the doctor's I should ask him whether I ought to take the test. I go to the doctors so rarely that in the end they sent me the test! In brief, I had to poo into a dish and take samples, smear said samples onto cardboard and send back to them. The first problem was that the poo must NOT be contaminated with any liquid. I don't know about you, but I sometimes have to wee either just before or after a bowel emptying. What a palaver! Each time I had a stirring, I had to run upstairs, find my plastic ice cream container, put it in the toiler bowl, then get my plastic goblet (specially bought for the purpose) and put that in position in case I weed. It reminded me of when I was pregnant and had to do all those mid-flow samples. Of course, by this time, the urge had gone away. I ended up so stressed about this procedure that I actually got constipated! I got there in the end, but now I find my piles have come back with a vengeance! (More memories of pregnancy) And, I'm blaming the French government! Time I left this bloody country!

I shall have to change my name!

Don't be surprised if the name of my blog changes in the near future! (sings) In 28 days we're off to sunny Spain! (stops singing) Not just for a holiday, this time, but to actually LIVE!!! Los Nietos, which I've told you so much about, is beckoning and we're off to enjoy life in the South East of Spain, where we have family and friends and a social life to hectic it'll take some managing! Bring it on!

House for Sale, Apply within

Imagine waking up in the morning in a bedroom that you could dance the samba in and after visiting your very own bigger than the average en-suite bathroom, you close the bedroom door, made of solid oak, descend the wide marble staircase into the magnificent hallway and go into the massive tiled kitchen with granite worksurfaces and more electric plugs than you can ever need, put the kettle on and whilst the tea is brewing, empty the fitted dishwasher, then take your cup of tea outside and gaze over the French countryside, uncluttered by human habitation, yet 5 minutes away from the motorway, and within easy striking distance of villages with schools, banks etc. Take the time to admire the cloud formations, watch the birds busily feeding their young in the mature trees. All this is only 15 minutes from the sandy beaches at Royan.

Make this your reality. Follow this link.

Go on, you know you want to!

FRIDGE SOUP: One I Wish I'd Written!

FRIDGE SOUP: One I Wish I'd Written!

Is it me?

The number of times in an average week I say those words! This week, we've had two wedding invitations - I've never felt to popular. The first one was family and so we were half-expecting it.

The second one, however, was French. The invitation was from the children of the happy couple - Jean Jacques and Giselle. The happy couple were called Corinne and Jean-Paul, it was only when we read where we had to reply that we realised the maiden name of the bride to be was the surname of a bloke from the rugby club. It's no wonder I get confused - everybody in this country has the same bleedin' name!!! be warned - the whole of France is family.