Washday blues

The weather here in the Charente Maritime is improving steadily, and not before time! This morning, we had such beautiful drying weather that I felt under pressure to get 5 beds stripped and made up again for Mr & Mrs Dickinson (names changed to protect the innocent). They arrive in the Farmhouse this weekend. Off I went then, after the school run, to strip the beds right down to the mattresses and wash the waterproof protectors that we are obliged to put on them to protect them against stuff you would, frankly, be surprised to hear about (say no more). We have a couple of washing machines in the laundry room, so I divided them up between them and my own machine, put the washing powder in and pressed the button. Guess what, the water had been turned off at the mains and I haven't a clue how to turn it back on again. DH was snoring gently in bed - another wasted opportunity. How do I stay so cheerful?

Bank Holidays in France and spudless weekends

The merry month of May in France is punctuated by Bank Holidays. First off, we have Labour Day which falls on the 1st May. The week after (today) we have Victory in Europe Day, after that we have Ascension (13th May) followed by Pentecost (24th May). That's a lot of bank holidays to keep track of. If they fall on a Sunday, they don't really matter, since they don't take the Monday off in lieu, but if they fall on any other working day, everything stops. Also worth noting is the fact that if they fall on a Thursday many places "fait le pont" and stay shut until the following Monday. There's no point opening on the Friday after all, is there? Nor the Saturday!

What does this mean to me, then. I'll tell you what it means, it means no spuds, that's what it means!!!!Where did I get the idea from that the supermarkets would open until midday, being as the bank hol fell on a Saturday? Have I learned NOTHING in 14 years? We drove round (DH came too - he doesn't like to be separated from me at the moment - sweet!!!) 3 supermarkets later, we came home spudless. For us to be spudless all weekend is a very serious business! Thanks to some left over mash in the fridge that I fried up, and a big bag of very old pasta we survived. Of course it helped that the two main eaters, Dear Son (15) and Dear Son (16) were out of the house all weekend at various parties and girlfriend-orientated activities (don't go there), so we survived it.

All this happened last weekend. Not to be caught out again, I went to the supermarket late last night and bought 10 kg of spuds! Wish I'd remembered to buy some onions, but you can't have everything!

Have a nice bank holiday, I'm going to!!!

Bone numbingly tired

It's back again! Already, only two and a half weeks after my fortnight's holiday, that TATT syndrome has returned! Tired All The Time sums me up at the moment, but today is much worse than usual. I woke up all bright as a button, trouble was, it was only 4.30 am so I beat myself about the head (figuratively speaking) and told myself to go back to sleep straight away, or big trouble! Back to sleep I obligingly went, only to be in the middle of a weird dream about the next door neighbour being a prostitute when the alarm went off at 6.15 am. I hit the snooze button, the dream was just getting to the good bit, but you can never go back to the same dream, can you? At least, I can't!! Anyway, back to sleep I went, and I was still there when the ten minute snooze button was activated. Ever since, I've been walking around as if I'm in a dreamworld of my own making. Nothing seems real. I've walked the dog in the bitter cold wind (gone back to winter this week) , I've had several strong cups of tea, but here I am, still so wan that I'm almost two.

How do I shake this off? Answers on a postcard please.... (or an email will do). I'm off for a lie down!

I must, I must improve my blog (ging habits!)

(Just in case you missed the tiara piccie on my Facebook page!)

It's a miracle I'm here! ... and I'm not referring to my puncture on the dual carriageway last Wednesday going along at 110 kph with a lorry up my bum, I'm on about the fact that it's been so long since I wrote anything at all on my darling blog that I couldn't remember the password! I'm now declaring an end to writers' blog I mean block and you will be seeing much more of me and my ramblings from now on. Step this way ..... you have been warned! Ha ha ha ha !!! (laughs spookily!!!)

Replaced by an 11 year old girl

There must come a time in every parent's life then they suddenly realise that their children have overtaken them on every level. Not only is Dear Daughter (11) capable of cooking a lovely meal and washing up, but she actually does it better than me! I never would have thought of putting honey on goat's cheese.

As for the computer, she's clicked whilst I'm still working out where to click!

Her French was always going to be better than mine, but I'm now realising mine is like a 5 year old by comparison.

At least she still needs me to pay for her new hand bag and taxi her to her friend's houses, but for how much longer?

Dear Son (16) has had a lovely (French) girlfriend for over a year now. This summer, they're both planning to work during the school holidays in the local supermarket. The interviews are this week. He plans on going to university in Bordeaux in September (Heaven help me!!!)

Luckily, Dear Son (15) still needs me for most things (at least he has the sense to make me think so!!). He promised when he was six years old that he would never leave me (don't worry, son, I'm not going to hold you to it!!!)

It's true you have to enjoy them while you have them, it all goes TOO FAST!!!




I bought these roses at the supermarket yesterday (€6!!! eek!!) and they looked so lovely this morning that I took this photo, since I know that they won't last very long. I thought it would cheer you up.

Cock a doodle doo!

I heard an interview on the radio this morning publicising a bird show (the feathered kind, sorry!) being held this weekend not far from here. Throughout the interview, there was a cockerel crowing at the top of it's lungs. It was so loud and irritating that you could hardly hear what the woman was saying. If anybody having heard this interview goes out and buys a cockerel, they can't say they weren't warned! According to the interviewee, they crow like that when they want to make babies. I can now see why the cockerel is the national emblem of France!

Why I love living in France, Part Two

.... Say no more!

I love a good read!

You can tell a lot about people from the books they read. Not a half a mile away from us is Emmaus which is a second hand outlet set in an old Victorian railway station. The customers, and especially the people who work there could be characters in a book, but that's for another post!

In my efforts to de-clutter, I finally put the bin bag full of outgrown winter coats in the van and took them to Emmaus. As a young schoolgirl, I had a brief career working part-time in the Oxfam shop. The smell in Emmaus takes me back more years than I care to remember. Funny how second hand clothes and rejected household objects smell the same wherever you are in the world. Anyway, I digress - in those far back days, the manageress of the Oxfam shop was always less irritable if instead of just off-loading their junk, people took the time to buy something, so I always have a look round at the clothes in Emmaus and have had some real bargains in the past. They sell clothes BY WEIGHT, if you please, making it the cheapest place on the planet for kids' tee-shirts and even my denim skirt (the last thing I bought from there, only cost €1.20! I wear it a lot in the summer, more flattering than shorts at my age.

Anyway, this trip was a bit disappointing on the clothes front - they must have offloaded some stock to Haiti, since there was very litttle in the clothes section so I meandered over to the book area which is enormous. In the past, the English book section consisted of only three books including a Stanley Gibbons stamp directory from 1963 so I was very pleasantly surprised to find no fewer than three shelves devoted to English books.

Here is what I bought:

Your Talking Cat by Jack Richter
Men are from Mars ... by John Gray
End the Struggle and Dance with Life by Susan Jeffers
Websters New World Medical Dictionary (brand new, complete with CD!)
English Grammar in Use by Raymond Murphy (also brand new)
Bizzarre and Eccentric People by Nigel Blundell
Analyse your Dreams (also brand new)



Pineau's not remotely impressed by my bargain books!

For the princely sum of €3.75, these books have kept me happily entertained throughout the two weeks half term school holidays whilst the kids have commandeered the TV for the Wii and Dear Daughter (11) the computer. Note to self, must remind DD who the computer actually belongs to ... when I've finished this chapter!

Reasons why I love living in France (Part 1)

It was brought home to me again yesterday how honest and straightforward the French are. A little old lady dropped a €20 note out of her pension book without noticing in the post office in town, and three people leapt to her aid and fell over themselves to give her the note back.

It reminded me of what could have been a very unpleasant incident a couple of weeks ago. I always walk the dog around the lake in Saujon on a Saturday afternoon whilst Dear Daughter (11) is in her art class at Royan. It's a very popular beauty spot for courting couples, fishermen and dog walkers, as well as the local boules club. When I returned from my walk after around an hour, I realised to my total horror that the car door was wide open on the passenger side and my handbag was on the passenger seat. I truly believed that the car had been broken into. To my absolute amazement, it was me that had left the door open, and the handbag was right where I left it, in full view of all the passers by.


Last summer, one of our holidaymakers left a new camera and his wallet on the beach - it had dropped out of their beachbag. They went to the police station at Royan to report it missing for their eventual insurance claim, and couldn't believe their luck that both had been handed in. This was in August, when the beaches round here are all absolutely packed.

When things get me down, like now, for instance, it does no harm to notice these things, where else in the world would such incidents occur?

Problems with Paypal in France

My first client in the US, when I started my VA business, wanted to pay me via PayPal. This suited me, especially since the account was already set up from buying off EBay. PayPal came in handy again when one of our summer visitors, who at that time was moving from the USA to France and had no French bank account, used it to pay for his holidays. That was a big mistake! The relatively large sum of money he transferred showed on PayPal's radar and, back in July 2009, they blocked the account. Unfortunately for me, they allowed me to have funds paid into the account for some bits of writing I did, but they refused to allow me to withdraw funds until I could prove my identity.

Times are hard for us in the winter season here at Chez Belliveau, especially with the arrival of the Christmas credit card bills, so every bean has to be counted. Besides, it's not the principle, it's the money!

I have now sent PayPal no fewer than 15 separate pieces of paper saying who I am, but STILL they refuse to unblock the account. They will only accept certain documents in my name only and for one reason or another (joint bank account, utility bills in DH's name) I can't provide them. "Well, Janet, ring them up and explain", I hear you say!

I was hoping you'd suggest that – the saga continues!! PayPal have a computer which answers their phone and after you've keyed in the phone number you are ringing from (why?) and your file reference, you listen to that irritating Musak –whose invention was that? They should be shot at dawn. Bizarrely, they have a recording of somebody shuffling paper (I'm not kidding!) presumably to give the impression of the presence of a human being, then you are told by the computer that you have at least a ten minute wait before you can speak to anybody. Undeterred, I have sat through this procedure more than a couple of times now, only to finally speak to a "real live person", who had no authority nor discretion to bend the rules and could only repeat word for word what I have written on my own computer screen. No joy there then!

My latest attempts to unblock my PayPal account are a statement signed by the Mayor in our commune that I am who I say I am and I'm now waiting for a statement from the Social Security saying the same, which I shall then send onto them. Finger's crossed!

Once I finally get my hands on this paltry sum (I need it to pay the kids' canteen bills!) I shall close the account and join this website – I only wish I'd found this first!

I have this effect ...

Been a bit of a funny week, one way and another. First I lost the internet, then it came back a bit, went a bit, and is still a bit dodgy. I learned to live with it, and waited patiently for it to decide to work, feeling perhaps that it doesn't like winter any more than I do.

Then we had another person come along who was interested in buying the gites and pushing as only a French person can push to sign an agreement to sell in the New Year. He doesn't (it turns out) actually have his money in place yet, but why should that matter? They're a strange breed these French. Even now, he's sending emails asking for yet more information to get his bank loan. He's coming back on Tuesday for the kids to choose their bedrooms! Dreamworld, or what? Perhaps he thinks if he pushes hard enough, we'll sell them to him and forget to ask him for the money!

DH offered to provide karaoke entertainment for the neighbours Christmas Day in return for our Christmas dinner. Admittedly, this was back in August, but how I now wish he hadn't. It's worked beautifully since Bob (bless) brought it here all those years ago. We even took it to Spain with us, but now we really really need it, yes, you've guessed it, it won't work! Might have to admit defeat on that one and go back to video tapes ( DH actually laughed out loud when I said that!)

I ordered a Wii for the kids for Christmas. It came three days later. I ordered some games and steering wheel thingies, they all came. I started to wrap it all up whilst everybody's out and found that we'd had one game sent twice, and another not at all! Typical!

We've had ice and a threatening of snow so all the school buses were cancelled. They do that sort of thing here! Had to take Dear Daughter (11) to school in the car, but kept Dear Son (15) off as it seemed half the school weren't bothering to get their backs off the bed this morning.

We ran out of heating oil two days ago. Now, it is very very cold both inside and outside the house. In fact, it's actually milder outside than in at the moment. He said he'd deliver an hour ago, but of course hasn't turned up.

Can't think of any more reasons to be cheerful, so I'd best sign off!

Sorry if this post depressed you!

London buses

Months without anybody serious wanting to buy the gites, and now two have come along at once, both wanting us to sign a "compromis de vente" in the New Year! Now what? One's a cash buyer and the other needs a loan (which he might not get). Toss a coin for me, will ya!

Probably neither will buy them - we've been in a similar situation more than once! Wish I had a bottle of the cheap Bailey's stuff Lesley was on about - I'll just have to have the real thing instead!

Sore arm (DD's = sore head (mine)

How's that for a blog title? Poor little Dear Daughter (11) had her swine flu vaccination on Thursday morning at school. She was a bit nervous at the thoughts of having a needle stuck in her, but in the event it passed off with very little pain. Within 24 hours or so, it was becoming more and more painful to a point where she couldn't lift her arm above her head without a lot of pain. (So don't lift you arm above your head, my dad would have said). She's also been shivering and has a lump in her armpit, all undoubtedly reactions to the vaccine.

Now I know it must be hurting, since she's a brave sort of kid (like her mother) but I'm starting to get headaches from her constantly moaning about it, putting ice cubes on it, putting heat pads on it, and generally being totally obsessed by it. I'm being very sympathetic (through gritted teeth) which is more than her brother is - he told her to stop complaining, it was nothing compared to a game of rugby! Didn't help much, that comment, I can tell you!

It's sure to get easier over the weekend, trouble is, she's supposed to be having another one in a couple of weeks! I think we'll cancel that! My nerves won't stand it! Anyway, half protected is better than no protection at all!

The boys have theirs next week, so DD will have her revenge!

Where did all the time go?

It's not fair! I'm not old enough to have a 15 year old son! I remember when he was a little baby - he was such a good baby, never cried, always happy. He still doesn't cry, and is usually happy but you should see the size of him! I'll post a piccie when I've finished my takeaway pizza. More later.

Signed on again and other ramblings!

I've just spent the last twenty minutes trying to sign on. Thanks to all the new technology, you don't have to queue up and face a snotty cow behind the counter of the DOLE office (aah, happy memories of being a school leaver on the dole - I've worked diligently ever since!) Nowadays, you sign on on-line, or by telephone. The on-line version was taking me round in loops, so I tried the telephone. I had to say a magic word (in French) to be taken to the next stage. My accent has not improved, and the first couple of times, it didn't understand me and took me back to the main menu. After lots of pressing buttons, I finally made it. I expected a fanfare at least, but I just got the dialing tone.

I first registered as unemployed at the end of the summer season, way back at the beginning of September, but so far I haven't received a bean, and by the time I do, I shall probably have found gainful employment. Could this possibly be Mr Sarkozy's way of not paying out any money to foreigners? Don't be so cynical!

Corrie's been on every night this week - love it! RIP Blanche though - I loved her one-liners!

The surveyor's been and gone and says there are no real problems! Can this be so? Fingers crossed for an offer of the asking price (fat chance!) followed by an early completion (I can dream). Perhaps then I can move the last of DH's suits from his National Power days out of the old house! They can go straight to Emmaus! I'd best have another glass of wine quick to celebrate, since something's bound to go wrong!

Tomorrow we've got a French guy coming to see the gites, bring him on!

A typical entry from my diary

Don't know why I'm putting this here, but everybody loves to snoop in somebody's diary! This one is from Monday 30th November, It's longer than they usually are, so I apologise in advance, feel free to click away at any time - I won't be offended! Here goes:

Felt better than I've been in ages this morning, cracked on a-pace. Céline, J & N for the early morning, K went with Catherine [neighbour] for her 9 am start. All in good spirits. Got DH up at 8 am as the accountant was due. Fount out at 3 pm that he wasn't coming (we rang them). Don't know if we've upset them (quite probable) or if they're just as incompetent as the rest of the French so-called "professionals". Do know that H was so pissed off I was relieved when he went to his rugby meeting. To add to the mix (one thing is never enough) the surveyor's changed his appointment and is coming Thursday pm now and staying the night in a gite. He's carrying out a "full structural survey" - God help us!

Made H walk the dog with me (in the rain) and naturally missed the accountant ringing to apologise and make another appointment. They can all push off now, at least until I've regained my equilibruim. Hard to find something to be cheerful about, but my naturally bouyant personality wasn't knocked back for long.

Usual rush and push to get hungry kids fed decent food by 6.40 pm, including a trip to the bus stop to pick them up. H missed an absolute treat [he eats at the rugby club, poor thing!] - I did home made beefburgers (no egg, had to improvise) with potato wedges à la Nigella - set my sore mouth off a treat! [I burned it on a mince pie on Saturday!] Bloody lovely on such a cold, miserable night. Squashed a slamander underneath the wheel of the car on our drive, which set off a couple of jokey texts from N - all of us in excellent spirits - dunno why particularly, but I treasure these times. Watched French news, don't seem to have Channel 5 any more.

Only one Corrie - unbelieveable - 1 hr Jungle crap afterwards - hate it! Who are these "celebrities" anyway? I only recognise one! Kim from "How Clean is Your House" - I used to like that, made me feel efficient.

Did half an hour on my treadmill which I enjoyed this time as I read trashy magazines to pass the time, but I didn't half feel knackered afterwards - and I had K's bed to make up and tons and tons of washing to put away before I could collapse into bed myself.

On standby for the accountant most of the day, but managed to give W his two usual walks. Almost collapsed with tiredness after the lunchtime tomato and rice soup (l/o rice from risotto on Saturday) Not as bad as it sounds. Would have dozed off on the settee afterwards, but daren't as it would have been too embarrassing to have the accountant tap on the window and wake me up! Wouldn't be the first time!

Watched an oldie but goodie Clint Eastwood - he was so handsome!!! Film called The Eiger Sanction, also watched Midsomer with K after school.

Enjoying the book I'm reading about the Guernsey - The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. It's all about the occupation of Guernsey during the second world war, but written in the form of letters going back and forth, which makes it easy to pick up and put down again if time is short. Some of it is quite disturbing. I'd never realised that Guernsey (and obviously France) had it so tough in the war. The residents of Guernsey had 24 hours to decide whether to evacuate their children to England before the Germans invaded, or whether to take their chances with the occupation. Those who did didn't see their children again for 5 years!

Feeling more on an even keel in spite of everything. Need to be for everybody's sakes. Posted my Barshinskey book [a book I read on holiday and only just finished] to mum - €6 - eek!!!

Nothing of interest on the emails, nor phone calls. Only bills in the post.

Are you asleep yet? Wake up, it's finished now! How do you think I feel? I'm actually living all this!!!! If you're very good, I won't do this again!!!

Meltdown in le Clerc!

It was our wedding anniversary on Saturday, and as usual, DH had forgotten. Either that or he hadn't had time since last year to go out and buy me a card. This meant that he was guilt tripping himself (I wasn't bothered, honest!) I was just glad he was speaking to me again. Anyway, on with the story. He decided it would be a good idea to take me to the jewelry section in leClerc at Saintes (he has a loyalty card, so gets a bit off) for me to choose something. Time was tight, due to the fact that he overslept and he had to take the boys to a rugby match at midday. Nevertheless, we stoically set off to leClerc to get my pressie. I had to have a pressie, since he'd forgotten to get me a card, so I therefore had to have a pressie as well as a card. Are you getting the picture? The fact that I have absolutely no need of any more jewelry and I'm perfectly ok for earrings for the rest of my life and have my everyday watch and my posh watch so no need for anything there - all that didn't matter - I had to have some jewelry from leClerc, or I was being difficult.

As time was tight, he sent me off to the jewelry section whilst he got some money out of the cash machine. Leclerc was packed! Saturday morning is never the ideal time to go shopping to a supermarket and all the French people in France seemed to be in there at 11am Saturday morning. I took a shuftie round the jewellry section, there was a lot of sterling silver - not my thing, gold crucifixes, again, not my thing, it was going to have to be a watch which had some imitation diamonds around the fact €60, not bad I thought, okay I'll have that - I'll be able to wear it to the wine bar at St Palais we were going to for an anniversary drinkie, won't I be posh?

I could see DH approaching me from the corner of my eye - I recognised his walk, rather than saw his face. He was not a happy bunny. One of his cards had been rejected by the cash machine and he couldn't remember the code for the other one. "Well, you can forget about that for a start" was his opening gambit. "Okay, I said, no problem, let's go home then. Maybe I was being too reasonable or something, but the poor bloke nearly had a nervous breakdown there and then! He kept saying that he was doing this for us (doing what for us?) I damn near had to lead him to the car muttering under his breath all the way about how hard done to he is! Perhaps it's his age or something, but he's over it now - until the next time!

Dear Son (16) has come home from school poorly with a sore throat. I knew it was serious when he slept through his Sunday lunch yesterday. He's off to see the doctor at 6.15 pm, which is the same time as I have to pick Dear Son (14) up from the bus stop - if only I could master the art of being in two different places at the same time! Looks like you'll be walking, Nick! DH'll be at his rugby meeting, no sympathy there!! How do I stay so cheerful?

Silence is Golden - or is it?

DH and I have had an upper and downer (that's Gloucester for a row). I merely pointed out to him that it would be have been nice if he'd rung me from the supermarket where he had gone to buy some fruit for himself on his way back from Friday night's rugby practice and then I could have given him the list that I had which would have made life easier on all of us and we wouldn't have run out of milk, bacon, orange juice and bread for Saturday morning's breakfast. Perfectly reasonable complaint you would think.

He hasn't spoken to me since and he pointedly leaves the room whenever I come into it. Alright, I admit, voices were raised, and maybe it was a mistake to point out that rugby isn't as important as he thinks it is, and that there are other considerations. None of it was helped by the fact that Dear Son (16) rather tactlessly asked where the orange juice was.

Another thing might have been that when I took Dear Daughter (11) to her art class yesterday afternoon, I accidentally locked them all out. It still tickles me to think of Dear Son (16) climbing in through Dear Son (14)'s bedroom window using a long ladder. I bet DH was spitting feathers. It's a shame he's not speaking to me, we could have a good laugh! Shows how easy it would have been for the burglars to do the same, good job there aren't any in France.

Silence may be golden, but I'm feeling lonely in a houseful of people now. He's capable of keeping this up for days, I'm not. Now I remember why I rarely rise to the bait, it's easier to just say nowt. Aah well, at least I'll get the ironing straight!

Holiday photos

Okay you have been warned. Click away now if you don't "do" other people's holiday photos!!!


What happened to my sweet little baby? She's turned into a vamp! At least she's not a goth (yet!)


Eating again!!!
Nick snuggling up to his Auntie Christine (he wishes to remain annonymous!)


Jamie sneaking the dregs of the Spanish red (he thought we hadn't noticed!)


Still crazy about each other after all these years!!! Either that or pissed again!!!

Back to the grind

Hello, Bob and Lesley (my only followers - I'm just jealous!)

Well, thank you for asking, we had a lovely holiday once again in Spain. The weather was, for once, hot and sunny, so we were able to go to the beach all day every day for a change, had we wanted to. Normally, we arrive just as the weather turns (the clocks go back and that seems to mark a step change in the seasons in Spain and in France). This year, however, we had a freak indian summer and actually came back brown and not rust coloured and wind beaten! Unfortunately, since it has been crap weather ever since we re-entered France, nobody is any the wiser and the tan ended up down the plug hole! Just my luck really. I'll try and post a couple of photos later, just to prove I didn't dream the whole thing. At least the dog was overjoyed to see me when we got him back from prison (sorry, the kennels).

We got home on Wednesday and the kids were all back at school Thursday. Even my French lessons re-started on Friday, so it didn't take long for the holiday to become a memory! Was it really this time last week that we went out on Trevor's boat into the Mar Menor and sunbathed on one of the many islands in the bay? Did we really have the cheek to complain about the flies as we drank rosada and ate roasted almonds outside the El Fraile? I can't even stay outside long enough to drink a cup of tea since I got home, it's such a cold wind!

Enough of my whining, you didn't even ask about my holidays in the first place, so moving swiftly on... Immediately before we left we heard that a certain person who was standing in the way of a certain purchase of a certain gite complex has, unfortunately, passed away (claps hands with glee). This has led to the cookery course idea being given the go-ahead, so we are to be treated to a full survey in early December. If that doesn't put them off, they're either mad or desperate! We'll see.

Bookings for next year are passable, but we have to survive the winter first. One of DH's mates has booked three weeks in December to improve his French, so that's the turkey paid for!

I'm still doing my bits of writing for various people which went some way to buying the odd tapas on holiday, with a bit of change left over to get Dear Daughter (11) some new shoes before we went, her 'old' ones having gone into holes! It just never stops.

Reading this back, I can see why I don't have any followers, it's almost made me drop off to sleep. To think, I'm actually living this!!!!!

See you on Facebook!