Pickled!

Just think, if I was an alcoholic, this is as good as I'd ever feel! We've had a weekend of flowing alcohol, which is so rare nowadays that my liver's gone into shock. At leas that's how it feels. Saturday was the end of the rugby season party at the kids' and dh's rugby club. The punch was flowing freely and there wasn't enough solid food to soak it up. Never mind, thought I, as I hit the pillow around midnight (shock, horror) I've got all day tomorrow to get over it.

Sunday was Fathers Day, and DH, in a fit of sociability, invited the neighbours over for a barbecue. His day, his call! This time it was the champagne. I'm sure I had the odd glass of water to keep me on track, or maybe I dreamt it. They all left around 9 pm (from lunchtime) and then I watched Mama Mia on Sky, my absolute favourite film for a long time! I've been singing Abba songs in my sleep! Therefore, I didn't get to bed till 11 pm, still exceedingly tipsy even then.

All this is very well if you can sleep it all off, but I had to get up at 6 am as Dear Son (15) has his French Bacalaureat exam (4 hours, poor thing) and has to be at his desk at 7.45 am - that'll learn him! Dear Son (14) has school as usual so has to be out of the house by 7.15 am. So does Dear Daughter (10), but she starts at a more civilised 9 am, and even that's becoming more and more difficult. She's often eating her breakfast toast in the car on the way to school nowadays.

Only another ten days, then two months of rest and relaxation - oh, wait, that's when the summer visitors arrive - we don't have summers here - we have changeovers!

Today can only improve! Off to finish tidying the kitchen now, wish me luck!

Complete waste of time!

The clue is in the title!

Moving swiftly on, I've just started re-reading "How to Win Friends and Influence People" by Dale Carnegie. It's over SEVENTY years since it was first published, and it's still in print! You can't beat it for good, honest psychology. Principle 1 is: ahem, "Don't criticise, condemn or complain." Apparently, if you do this, the other person is put on the defensive and will always try to justify themselves. I've decided to read one chapter every night, and then to really try and put the theories into practise, at least for the following day and see how I get on.

Well, this one has worked already. Dear Son (14) has been in trouble at school. One of his merry band, a lad called Andy, squirted an ink cartridge at the teacher as she was writing on the blackboard (who'd be a teacher?) and blamed Nick. Being his mother, I wasn't sure I believed this version of events, but I was summoned to telephone the teacher this morning and explain his behaviour. It was obvious I needed to know for sure how involved Nick was. My instinct was to start laying into his friend for getting him in trouble, but I remembered to listen to Dale - don't criticise, condemn or complain.

It was a stroke of genius! I just said that I was surprised that Andy had gotten him into trouble with the teacher, as I'd always thought he was a nice lad. That was it - full confession! If I'd spoken to the teacher not knowing that they had both been guilty as charged, I'd have felt a complete twit.

One long-ish conversation with the teacher later (in French, in case you're wondering - I adore my children at times like this!) it was decided that Dear Son would be PUT IN DETENTION FOR ONE HOUR! I tried to get him two hours (at least) but she said the stain had washed out and I was just being unreasonable, but would I please speak to him over the weekend and try to get him to GROW UP! Might take longer than a weekend then! He's also going to lose his mobile phone for a few days to give him chance to think, instead of constantly texting his friends. In my day, if anybody wanted to speak to me on the phone (forget texting - it didn't exist!) they had to speak to my dad first - that was enough to put anybody off!

Wonder what tonight's principle is?

Waiting for the viewers to arrive

.... and waiting, and waiting! It's a beautiful hot sunny day, but have I been near the pool, except to sweep around it? No! Why? Glad you asked! We had a phone call earlier in the week from a French agent (sorry, can't get the link to work) who had somebody to see the gites. First ones for weeks. We have been cleaning and tidying, scaring away spiders and sweeping up flies in the baths and shower trays as well as cherries that had fallen from the tree since 8 am this morning. They were due at 2.30pm. They called from Saujon at 3.30 pm (it's only ten minutes away!) and they've JUST pulled up on the (wrong) driveway now!

I'll let you know how I get on - hope springs eternal!

More later ...

How can it possibly be two weeks????

... since I last blogged? Where did the time go? Well, let's see, there was the "teaching" assignment I did last week at the lycée in Royan. Four hours of trying to get French kids to practise their English over two days passed the week on nicely! I'm talking about all the internet research on the TEFL websites to try and put together lesson plans. Loads of good material there, too much to trawl through really! Do you want to know what went down the best of all the stuff I got together? Well, I'll tell you, horoscopes. I printed off the horoscopes from the Daily Mirror website each morning and let them read their own out loud, and then those of their nearest and dearest. They absolutely loved it!

Second best was the pictures I hastily tore out of a magazine and got them to describe. Worst bit? I had the bright idea of spending 40 minutes or so on a current news article. Not a good week for news - the French plane crash, followed by the trial of the morons who murdered the French students, and if that's not current enough, there's always the snubbing of the queen about the 65th anniversary of the D-Day landings! I erred on the side of safe and decided on the Britain's Got Talent programme and Susan Boyle. Blank faces all round! They sort of recognised Simon Cowell! Talent competition - what's that? I bravely continued for about 5 minutes in this vein before deciding to .... move swiftly on ....

On the whole, they were lovely teenagers (16 - 18 years old, as it turned out!). They were a bit slow to warm up but once you got them talking, it was difficult to shut them up. Would I like to become a teacher? Not a chance! I stressed over this ordeal (sorry, meant to say assignment) to a point where I could hardly sleep nights! I felt like I'd survived an ordeal when it was over!

I now have to report back to the teacher (in French) about how it all went! Now that's a doddle!

I'm not panicking - yet!

As a sort of "payback" to the French government for providing us with free French lessons, (see Greta, here) I've been volunteered (with the rest of our class) to take a class of 14 year old's to practise their English with them next week. Because I'm a soft touch, I've "volunteered" twice and then found out that we have to give them a TWO HOUR English lesson! This is a first for me, so I'm racking my brains for activities this age group (I live with one, so I know what I'm dealing with!) won't find boring. My initiative is being stretched to the limits. I've got till Thursday morning and it might take till then to think of four times half hour activities. Help me God!

I promise I'll never take you for granted again! and food ramblings!

My internet connection, I mean! It's a bit unreliable at the moment, so when I can get it to work, I'm going as fast as I can. I've never been so focused, usually I just surf the web, browsing and looking at jobs to apply for, now I've got it down to a fine art - put the website address in, scan quickly, send the application or click to another page!

A lovely sight I saw today - the baby class at Dear Daughter (10)'s school had been on a trip out to a local farm, and they'd come back with a little present - every child (around 25 or so) had been given a punnet of fresh, new season strawberries! Some of them were eating them like sweets, passing them around the grown ups, they start to appreciate their food young in this country. I'll never forget when I went on a trip out with the maternelle when Dear Son (14) was in that class, and all the kids were given a picnic that included a hard boiled egg. They tucked in with a vengeance, I never saw 3 year old kids enjoy hard boiled eggs like that - without salt! It was a real eye-opener. Another time, Dear Son (15)'s friend, when aged about 4 was tucking into a bucket of whelks somebody had dropped off at his house. He had a pin in one hand and a frown of concentration as he picked the whelks out of their shells, and tucked in!

The closest I've ever come to that was at a recent rugby club bash when the bloke sitting next to me, 80 if a day, kept feeding me shellfish on a pin which tasted exactly like bogies. I tried not to think too much about what I was eating - three chews and a swallow, as my friend Alison says! Plenty of bread to get rid of the bits. I'm still not sure what I was eating - better not to know!

Have you seen Matthieu?

We had a bit of excitement yesterday tea time when two gendarmes (complete with guns) knocked on the door. Dear Daughter (10) - actually nearly 11, answered the door and they showed her a photograph of a boy aged around 14 and asked her if she knew him! You should have seen her little face! She came racing through (I was clearing the backlog of being without my internet connection) to tell me. When I arrived, Dear Son (14) was being questioned, as apparently he knew the little boy from school. It turned out that he lives in a foster home and the two boys were together at the weekend at a funfair in our local village (within a larger group). The boy who was missing, Matthieu, had won a cap gun and taken it to school where it had been confiscated by a teacher. He'd taken umbrage at this and run out of the classroom, jumped the (low) wall and hasn't been seen since. Apparently, he's run away three times this year already. Cry for help? Doesn't seem as if anybody's listening. I feel for his mother (although she's a useless article) as this must be a dreadful time for her. Dear Son (14) seems convinced he'll be back at school this morning. Kids - eh?

Oh, by the way, the technician left his tool bag behind and had to come back for it this morning at 7.30 am. Luckily, I get up early to get the kids off to school. Shows I'm not the only incompetent one out there!

Gotta get on, there are at least six jobs I want to apply for! Oh joy!

What a flippin palaver!

I've been forcibly evicted from blogland because I lost my internet connection almost a week ago following a power cut! Just at the worst possible time, I might add. "That" phone call never arrived (don't care - sniff!) but on top of that, we had a sudden rush of enquiries for the gites. I had to keep traipsing into town to use the computers in the library in Saujon. It costs €15 to join our local library - no wonder it's quiet down there - I expected it to be free - shows how behind the times I must be! Anyway, the technician came this afternoon (a day earlier than he said - good) so I'm busy catching up again - 600 messages in total, all but 37 of them spam! Good job I didn't get offered "the job" - what stress that would have been - it was bad enough, believe me!

One good thing - we were going to reduce the prices of the gites (again) but no need to now, I took 8 weeks bookings in the last two days! Don't understand why, but bring it on!

Here's a picture of the pool, so you know what you're missing!

Waiting for the phone to ring

I had a telephone interview yesterday with a bloke I 'met' on Guru.com. He's in Altrincham of all places, and needs help with customer support - could mean anything! I spoke to him for about 20 minutes or so yesterday, feeling extremely self-conscious and at the end of the conversation, he said he'd like to have a more "formal and structured" telephone interview with me today, in fact, now, in fact he should have rung an hour ago!

Is he stuck somewhere? Has he died? Is his phone on the blink?

Should I wait? How long for?

I've got all three kids plus a friend at home (the usual Wednesday afternoon scenario) and notes everywhere saying SILENCE and all the doors closed and I have to say that they have been extremely quiet this last hour - NOT normal!

I've got to go out to get some shopping as it's a Bank Holiday here tomorrow again - typical! Also, there are some French people due in the gites.

Stress, I wrote the book.

I probably wouldn't want to work for him anyway! His site is at lee hyphen mcintyre dot com, have a look, you'll see what I mean! (Take out the spaces, and put a full stop where the dot is!) I'd hate him to read this one day! I mean, it might all end happily! I could certainly use the money.

Minor Miracles

A minor miracle took place at the Palais de Congres in Royan (click link for piccies) on Saturday, in that 20-odd teenage rugby players (inc Dear Son (15)) set up, served and cleared away a four course meal with rum punch, red and rosé wine and children's/adults menus for 200 people, whilst also entertaining us with sketches, dance routines and a comedy routine. The meal consisted of foie gras, confit de canard with new potatoes and veg, (kids had chicken nuggets) rum baba and fruit salad and cheese. They had a chef to cook it, but they did the rest, including the washing up!

The memory of the champagne fountains with indoor fireworks will stay in Dear Daughter (10)'s mind for a long time to come. The French certainly know how to "let go", no shrinking violets present, no wallflowers! I felt like I'd landed from another planet. Glad I happened to have my earplugs in my bag. The reason for all this is that they were raising money for a trip to England next weekend to play rugby in Gosport. They raised enough for the trip and the evening was a brilliant success. Dear Son (15) was up until 3 am clearing all the tables away. He's well knackered now for his trip away - he'll need early nights for the rest of this week - fat chance!

Peace and quiet? Not!

I kept wondering whether the hunting season had started up again. Every few minutes, I could distinctly hear somebody firing a gun. I didn't find out what was going on until Woody's next walk, when I discovered a bird scaring contraption, set up to make a noise every 10 minutes. The farmer has just planted his sunflowers, and didn't want the birds to get the impression that lunch (and dinner and tea) were on him. I love the sunflowers in July, but it isn't half annoying living with this constant boom, bloody boom! Hurry up and germinate!

Above is a photo of the sunflowers taken last July - I loved this photo so much, I had it on my desktop until last week when I changed it to one of the garden

Stormy weather

We've had a couple of days of really heavy, muggy weather here in SW France, typically followed by the most tremendous thunder storms in the evenings. I always turn the computer off and leave it off during thunderstorms, since it's not unusual to lose the power, and as we all know, computers don't like sudden power cuts.

I turned it on (very) early this morning to get the emails and had the following:

6 pm Does the gite I've been enquiring about (for the past three weeks) have a full sized bath, since my toddler doesn't like showers?

6.25 pm I can't make a decision about the gite until you tell me whether there is a full sized bath (it's on the website).

6.45 pm I'm still waiting for an answer to my earlier emails.

6.55 pm Okay, I'll have it then!

Goes to show, sometimes it's better not to add fuel to the fire of the question and answer routine that I'm constantly indulging in just to rent out the bloody gites!

I bet she changes her mind! By the way, it does have a full sized bath!

Quick, get a photo before it starts raining again!

At least all the rain we've had lately has been good for the garden. I took these piccies yesterday and couldn't wait to get them on here. I was inspired by my friend Lesley's blog, where she puts some beautiful photographs up regularly, much nicer than these. Of course, she is a professional photographer!

Things have been hectic this week. (Last week now). The kids have only been back at school 4 days (Friday was yet another bank holiday) and I'm knackered already!

I went to the doctor's on Tuesday, since I've had a very sore (left) shoulder for weeks now, and it was slowly getting worse. He gave me some anti- inflammatories and pain killers (standard treatment, I guess) and I've been astonished at my capacity for sleep since I started taking these tablets. I can fall asleep anywhere, at any time. A deep, dreaming, healing sleep. Within seconds! I've been struggling to wake up before 10 am (good job it was a bank holiday weekend!) Totally NOT like myself. I suppose it's the tablets I'm taking, but I don't ever want it to stop! Is it possible to get addicted to sleep?

I've got to dash now, I've got my French lesson at half past twelve at Royan, so I've got to have my lunch now, or I don't get fed till 3 pm! Can't last that long.

More later, if I can stay awake!

I almost cried

My "full body massage" was this morning, 10 am at Royan. This was my birthday present from the kids and as a full body massage virgin, I had to search the net to find out what, if anything, you should wear! Apparently, not your best undies or even best clothes, since you will come out of there covered in aromatic oils. I was up early, showered thoroughly, hairwashed and all dressed in my full body massage gear, the sun was shining and all was well with the world, or so I thought. We were due to leave at 9.15 am as the traffic can be heavy this time of the year. Dear Daughter (10) was coming with us to keep her daddy company whilst I was full body massaged. The phone rang at 9.10 am, just before we were going out the door. Basically "Jennyfer" my full body massag-ist was in hospital and wouldn't be able to full body massage me until the 10th May. That's a Sunday! The first available appointment that we could both make was 23rd May. I reluctantly booked it on the calendar. Then, suddenly, my blood started to boil. It was the idea of the three kids clubbing together and paying a total of €70 between them in cash for something that was a planned surprise for a particular date. As a side issue, one of the gold heart earrings they bought me had fallen in bits in my hand when I tried to put it in. Off we went to do battle.

All was well that ended well, though, the shop gave us back the money in cash without any arguments (rare for France) and we changed the earrings for a much nicer (and more expensive) pair and bought a bracelet to match. So, I'm now a happy bunny (again) and the full body massage will have to wait. So there!

At least I've got a head start on tonight's rugby club bash.

Queen for a day!

It's my birthday today! What a splendid day it's been. I had breakfast in bed cooked by the kids, a single fried egg and a lot of marmite on toast with a pint pot of tea and a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Next I was whisked off to La Rochelle for lunch here, back to find the cleaner had been in and transformed the house (I made that last bit up, it's a right tip - they might be able to cook breakfast, but tidying the kitchen isn't something they know how to do yet - or ever!) I had a lovely pair of gold earrings and (fanfare) they've booked me in for a full body massage on Saturday morning with "Jennyfer" at a beauty parlour in Royan. DH says that it wasn't that expensive, as the salon makes it's money by selling tickets for the viewing gallery. I trust he's joking. I don't feel 49, but the mirror is telling me I am.

I've had a lovely day, but I'm ready for an early night now with a cup of Horlicks! Sad, isn't it?

Moody Wednesday

Do you ever feel that life is conspiring against you? I slept well and late, which is rare for me, in fact DH was so worried that I might get to like it that he brought me a cup of tea in bed at 9.30 am! I'd actually woken around 6 am after a terrifying nightmare, but must have gone back to sleep. I came down in a wonderful daze, not, for once, worrying about the time (the kids are still off school) and in the most pleasant of pleasant moods. My mum, who is off on her hols (again) tomorrow (she's going to the Isle of Wight) had promised to ring me up to wish me a happy birthday as she'll miss the actual day (tomorrow!) so when the phone rang at around 10 am (around her time) I answered it with a smile in my voice. First mistake! It was the bank, the same one that lost our cheque for £1500 back in January. Believe it or not, they STILL haven't found this cheque and appear to think it's our fault. I'm afraid that she made the cardinal mistake in customer relations of not letting me speak, so I put her first in the fruit bowl, then in the cupboard so that I wouldn't have to suffer the frustration of trying to interrupt her (in a foreign language). After that, the phone rang again, this time, it had to be my mum. No, it was the estate agent that's been trying to sell the gites for the last four years, ringing for a chat. I like Alison very much, but she'll never replace my mum! Oh well, I decided to take the poor long suffering dog for his walk, with Dear Daughter (10) chattering alongside me. I just walked along the road that runs between our house and the gites and I heard the very pleasant sound of children enjoying themselves. No wonder! When I glanced up, one was inside the tree house which was lying on the ground, and the other was gleefully rolling said tree house up and down the field! We watched them for a good while, marvelling at how a 9 year old girl was strong enough to push her 12 year old brother, until finally Dear Daughter (10) lost her temper and coughed loudly. They didn't react at first, but then suddenly realised what the situation was, and pulled the treehouse back up and pretended to be wiping it down. It could make you weep.

It's now 5pm and we're doing a wine tasting in an hour for said holidaymakers. My mum still hasn't rung.

That's life!

If you're wondering why the weather has suddenly changed from being 70 degrees in the shade, blue skies and glorious sunshine to almost constant rain, wind and thunder and even hailstones, it's because the Wilce's have opened their gites up for the "summer" season and we now have holidaymakers rusting in the rain. I guess it's good for the gardens (and ducks)!

Tears before bedtime

Is he dead?


We had DD's best friend, Lucie here yesterday. The two girls were just on their way to the swimming pool (they have to cross the road) when they noticed a black thing lying on the road a little way away. Off they went to investigate, then promptly burst into tears, believing this mangled lump with black fur to be the much beloved six month old kitten, Shadow. The said kitten was nowhere to be found, which added to the certainty, since he doesn't usually stray far from home. Tears, mass hysteria and other emotions were rife. Even DH was upset as he'd got very attached to the little fellow, considering he didn't even want him in the first place!

I wasn't convinced, since the poor cat they'd found, although definitely black, seemed a lot bigger than our Shadow, but Dear Son (15) convinced me that I was just in denial, and according to him, when things die, they swell up enormously because of body gasses and such (I stopped him there).

We went on to have a full Christian burial, even to a point of throwing a handful of soil over him and putting a flea collar in his grave for use in the afterlife (he'd taken it off a couple of days ago).

I still had doubts, but when the kitten still hadn't come in for his tea (unheard of) at 7 pm, I started to grieve myself, and I have to confess that I had a lump in my throat, especially when I thought of the €80 I'd spent on having him castrated and vaccinated in the past few weeks. Poor chap was the baby of the family. Pineau (the old boy) had crossed that road successfully hundreds of times in the past 13 years, likewise Blaze (who I swore was grieving!) and Tiger, they were the ones left behind. Our little family had shrunk.

7.30 pm came and went, and Lucie's mum came to pick her up and of course had to hear the sad news. We even went as far as distracting Raphael, Lucie's 4 year old sister in case she got upset (more mass hysteria!) We'd just got started and were preparing her for the worst, when the little bugger strutted back in, bang on cue!

He was so shocked by the reaction, he turned on his heel and ran off (don't worry, he didn't get knocked over.)

As they say, all's well that ends well - but he'd better not pull that trick again!

A Rare Evening Out

Last Friday, we talked ourselves into a "Social Evening" with the local AFA (Association Franco-Anglais) in Royan. There was a fairly good turnout of 17 in Thoma's Café where they do cheap-ish food. Not very good quality, but fairly cheap. If luke warm paella at €8 or undercooked barbecued ribs €12 is your bag, I recommend it. There was enough material there for several posts but it doesn't warrant that much output. The group almost entirely made up of retired English people in their late 50's to 80's with secondary homes here who had been on a 6 week or so visit to open up their holiday homes for the summer to come. They were all going back to their main homes in England during the past week.

What struck me first about this so-called Social Evening was that everybody was sitting at a long table with their backs towards the wall, already in groups and there was no room for us, so we had to sit at a table with another couple of outcasts, but we'll say no more about that. As usual, nobody looked up or acknowledged us, so we made a point of walking the length of the table and saying hello to everybody individually just to wind them up.

Rumour had it that there was somebody in the main group who lived in our local village, so DH set off to find out more. After he'd left our table, the lady I was sitting next to hissed "Does he realise she's FRENCH?" in a stage whisper using the same tone as if the woman in question had had leprosy. "There's a lot of them around." I replied, which made her blush bright red. I didn't mean to upset her, but I obviously did since she didn't speak to me after that! Instead, she went and found herself another holiday home owner to talk at. Trouble is that once you mention that you have three children in schools here and that you're running a business and that you've been here 13 years, the other person loses interest! Dunno why!

Another thing that struck me was that nearly every woman there had grown out perms and grey roots as they aren't confident enough in their French to visit a coiffeuse here. Sad really.

What was funny was that DH struck up a conversation with "the FRENCH" woman who lived in sheltered housing on the edge of our village. She was about 10 years older than him, but in fair nick with her bottle blonde hair in plaits (I'm not kidding) and resembled Edith Piaf with her overly made up face. He was gone for quite a while but it didn't matter, I nipped off to the loo and left him to it. We decided to leave not long after, so as we were going by the main group, he introduced me to "the FRENCH" woman. She gave me a look that would have killed. I have a fair idea that she assumed that he was on his own and looking for company. Ha! Poor bloke is so naive, he had no idea why she suddenly went all cold on him and said that "Non" monsieur, she wouldn't after all be calling by for a coffee next time she passed!

You have to laugh!

Is there anybody out there?

A couple of Sundays ago, 22 people looked at my blog, including one in Malaysia! Were they all killing time whilst the roast chicken cooked? Who were they? There are only two named followers, did you look at my blog 11 times each B & L? Are you addicted? Fat chance, the way I ramble on! If you are following my blog, click on the follower's widget - it might encourage me to write for a wider audience and certainly encourage me to write more regularly, which might not necessarily be a good thing, come to think of it! You can still remain annonymous. Over to you ....