Woodlice and winter

The day we arrived at the house the temperature dropped from a balmy 15 degrees at night to freezing or below! As we got out of the van the cold took our breath away but before we could make up the bed and huddle together to keep warm we had to clear up the aftermath of a woodlice infestation that seems to have targeted our house and those of our two closest neighbours. As we walked into the house their remains crunched under our feet making it sound like we walking on sea shells. The dead woodlice were an inch thick in places and pretty much everywhere. Their decaying carcasses gave off a smell rather like dried nasal mucous!

Eventually we cleared up a space for the bed and went to sleep, disturbed from time to time by the cold. Despite the thick duvet it really was cold for October! The following morning our macerator got stuck and when Ian went to investigate he found a solid lump of ice holding up proceedings. He also discovered that two metres of our pipe had been chewed up by rats, in an attempt to get at the juicy contents!

The following day we got ourselves organised. The fan heater worked well in keeping the temperature bearable and I cleaned up the kitchen and bathroom area so at least they were woodlice free. Our temporary electric supply means that if we run the water heater and the fan heater we can’t run anything else so we had to prioritise the equipment that we needed. The other problem is that by the time the electricity reaches the house down the 150 metre cable the voltage drops from 240 to about 190 which means that everything runs very slowly!

As I write this the temperature is rising. The builder’s father-in=law arrived yesterday and said that the moon changes this weekend and that means the weather will change. The forecast suggests it is getting warmer!

Wrong number

My mother gets quite a lot of nuisance marketing calls as she has never got round to registering her number for the telephone preferencing service. She is nearly 80 years old and getting out of the chair is an effort, so when the phone went this evening she reluctantly got up and picked it up. She heard a man's voice.

Hello..

Hello..she answered, cautiously, expecting a sales pitch.

Well have you got your knickers on now?

 She was a little shocked

Who's calling? she asked.

John, the gardener

John, the gardener??

Oh my God.. I think I've got the wrong number. He said with acute embarrassment in his voice

Yes you have! Goodbye!! and with that she hung up!

Off again

I don't know where the last six weeks have gone but here we are in October already and Ian and  I are off to France again; this time with the intention of finishing off a few jobs before the winter. We are still aiming to be out there next year so I expect some of the time will be spent trying to plan for that. Will try to make one or two posts while there!

National poetry day

Today was national poetry day and so I decided to send my colleagues a poem. I hunted around and I found this one which I thought was rather appropriate.

TOADS by Philip Larkin

Why should I let the toad work
Squat on my life?
Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork
And drive the brute off?

Six days of the week it soils
With its sickening poison -
Just for paying a few bills!
That's out of proportion.

Lots of folk live on their wits:
Lecturers, lispers,
Losels, loblolly-men, louts -
They don't end as paupers;

Lots of folk live up lanes
With fires in a bucket,
Eat windfalls and tinned sardines -
They seem to like it.

Their nippers have got bare feet,
Their unspeakable wives
Are skinny as whippets - and yet
No one actually starves.

Ah, were I courageous enough
To shout Stuff your pension!
But I know, all too well, that's the stuff
That dreams are made on:

For something sufficiently toad-like
Squats in me, too;
Its hunkers are heavy as hard luck,
And cold as snow,

And will never allow me to blarney
My way to getting
The fame and the girl and the money
All at one sitting.

I don't say, one bodies the other
One's spiritual truth
But I do say it's hard to lose either,
When you love both.

Cultural sensitivity

I wrote in a previous post about the French custom of kissing on the cheek when you meet a friend or acquaintance and that there were various customs and cultural rules about who you should kiss and how. Of course you can also use the fact that you are English and not sure about these customs to your advantage. Ian had to engage in some tricky negotiations about his contract last month with his agency. They are based in Belgium and the negotiator is a rather formidable woman who looks a bit like this.

 After some heated discussions they finally came to agreement but there was definitely some tension between them. When the agent visited them all at work last week Ian approached her with firm bize on each cheek and made her very flustered as she obviously couldn't tell whether he was just being a bit culturally naive or trying to take the p*ss!

On my doorstep

Last week I went for a walk up on the downs from my house. I can't remember the last time I did it. When I first moved here I walked up there nearly every week but familiarity breeds contempt and now I take it for granted. The walk reminded me of what I have on my doorstep. I walked up the hill through the woods to Butts Brow and then up along the ridge to the South Downs way.

From there, I walked a little way along the South Downs way until I reached the trees and the path that leads down to my house. All in all the walk is about an hour and a half . One thing I love about being up there is that you can see the sea on three sides, making you feel that you really are at the edge of the country!

The parakeets of London

Ian’s mother lives in North Cray, just inside the M25, to the South East of London. Her bungalow backs on to a meadow that is usually full of horses and she has a lovely view from her garden. However, there are some rather unusual birds in the area that are not known to be native. The trees echo to the squawks of a troop of parakeets and the brightly coloured birds hurtle around her garden from tree to tree.

A couple of weeks ago Ian and I went for a walk in Foots Cray meadows and I saw some there, nestling in the chestnut trees. I tried to take a photograph and if you look very closely you may just see their outline hidden in the trees!

Apparently, despite their exotic appearance they have been breeding and living happily in London for years, unbothered by the less than tropical climate!

Hublet 2

This is a Hublet. We are not quite sure what it is and what it does!

Hublet

I managed to avoid going to a staff meeting yesterday which was just as well as in the mood I am in at the moment I think I would have found it hard to make any constructive comments. One of the things being presented was the new research strategy, which to me just looked like a cheap re-launch of the old strategy in that there are four groups and we have to decide which one we want to align ourselves with. Today those of us that weren't there received this email.

If you were at the School Full Staff meeting yesterday afternoon, thank you for all your post-its indicating which Research Groupings and/or Research Hublets you are interested in. I have transferred the data onto the attached spreadsheet which shows all groups and hublets and your preference. Feel free to add your name to other groups and hublets and let me know.

Now this confused me as I have never heard of a hublet and it seems neither has the dictionary. Could it be a made-up word? We are running a competition to see who can come up with the best definition of a hublet and one of my colleagues made one from a pom pom.

It's a dog's life

One of the things I am really looking forward to when we eventually get to France is to have a couple of dogs. I have always loved the idea but never been in the position where I could give one a fair life. There are plenty of abandoned dogs and puppies in France so I am sure when we were there we will have no difficulties in finding one suitable. However, Ian has always had a soft spot for Jack Russells and he has had part ownership of one before and knows their little foibles quite well. Jack Russells are quite rare in France but in the UK they are common and often find their way into animal rescue centres as they can be more of a handful to manage than people expect. I think we would make quite good dog owners. We will have the space, we are fit and energetic and would enjoy a dog that needs a little more than a bowl of food and its tummy rubbed once a day.

So, with that in mind I started looking on various websites for Jack Russells in need of rescue. There were quite a few but in all cases Ian and I would not qualify as prospective doggy parents because we both work full time and all agencies have a policy about not allowing dogs to go to homes under these circumstances. Also, they will not allow us to take a dog out of the country. In addition we have never actually owned a dog before which means they will not let us take on any dog that may be more challenging. (The fact that we have chosen not to have a dog before because we did not feel that we could offer one a good home is not taken into account and we are placed in the same category as someone who has never owned a dog and is not interested in them).

I do understand the thinking behind this but it is just an interesting reflection that if you have two children then you are positively encouraged to go out to work full time and leave your children in day care!

Ian's neighbour Chaverley has two children and has just acquired a large dog as 'a favour to a mate'. The dog is very good natured which is just as well as although she doesn't work at all she still leaves him shut in the house all day while she goes out!

Ban 'La bise'

French lessons have resumed and last week in the class we had to bring in a photo of something to discuss. Someone brought in this photo (originally from the daily mail) of Carla Bruni with

Nicolas Sarkozy, indulging in what the French call 'la bise' or the little peck on the cheek that the French do when they meet. Apparently the French government have decided that in the event of a swine flu epidemic they will ban 'la bise'. We discussed this in our class and quickly concluded that this would be impossible to enforce; a view that seems to be shared by many French people!

I wrote an entry about the kissing custom last year, where unfortunately I spelt bise incorrectly and referred to the practice as a bissou. Bisou (with one 's' and not two) means a kiss and I guess that explains why the most common keyword used to access my blog through a search is Bissou. Those reaching the blog in this manner are usually from web addresses in places where neither English nor French are the native tongue and I would guess they are hoping to find a site about French kissing!

Woodlice

We had a problem with an unexpected pest in France. The first few days were okay although there were the usual selection of flies, ants, beetles, wasps, millipedes and hornets. However, we began to notice an increasing number of woodlice as the week went on. These appeared mostly at night and would start by crawling across the floor, then the walls and then finally the ceiling. After their long creep they seemed to loose their balance and fall off the wall, often on to our heads or the bed. During the night we could hear them falling off the metal ceiling rails onto the plasterboard and by the end of the three weeks they were like a water torture! Ian would get up to go to the toilet in the early hours and put on the light. We would then see the army of woodlice marching relentlessly across the ceiling and Ian would attack them with the vacuum cleaner. It was quite a sight. Ian, naked apart from his slippers, chasing the woodlice around the room with a vacuum hose!

Belated progress pictures

One of the things I have been meaning to do since we've been back from France is to put up some more pictures of our progress over the summer but I have been distracted by work and other things and before I know it we are booking tickets for a return trip in October! However today we had an email from our neighbours telling us that they have had some heavy rain so had gone over to check our cellar and to see if the elaborate arrangement of pipes, drains and gravel had done the trick and cured the flooding problem.

Fingers crossed, it might have worked as the cellar and the sump were bone dry! Anyway, it prompted me to finish off this post.

Ian's first job was to run the pipes for one of the guest bathrooms. The pipes and wiring need to be in place before we can close the walls and the walls need to be closed before we can lay the heating pipes.

This proved a long and complex job. Ian is quite fussy about it all looking neat and as you can see from the charcoaled board, soldering the pipes in place was a challenge. Must remember to put a fire extinguisher in next trip! The trick now is to test the pipes to make sure they don't leak before we seal the wall. (We don't know yet how we will do this!)

The main achievement however was to do some of the groundwork. Up until now we have never had a proper entrance and the builder, perplexed by the flooding cellar, had merely left it un-rendered and with a great ditch in front of the front door. The way in was over a pile of old pallets which we referred to as our moat and drawbridge!

Well, with the help of Warren the moat has been filled and we have a proper path leading up to the front door!

Sales pitch

When marking or reading things for work I find I get much more done in the quiet of my own living room. So, this afternoon I settled in to experience the joys of MSc research dissertations. Twenty minutes in the doorbell rang. A young lad with a clipboard was standing on the step and as he could see me sitting there I thought I ought to answer. He appeared rather shifty and a little nervous and then started into his sales pitch."Hello, how are you today?"
I felt like answering "What the f*ck is it to do with you. I've never seen you before in my life and already you're talking to me as if you've known me for years" but instead I say "okay" and try to push the door towards closed. Sadly, the opening line was the most fluent the salesman ever got as he then got into his prepared script to try to get me to sign up for some gas company that would save me money ('yes sure, so why do they pay you to tell me about it'..but you know they have a prepared script to answer that one and I really must get back to my marking). "I'm already with Scottish Power" I say , "and I have spoken to someone recently about the bill". (After all, he is only some poor lad taken from the 'welfare to work' scheme and obviously not really wanting to make a living doing this so no need to be rude). "Well, can you show me your last bill" said the lad , a little aggressively. "No", I said, getting irritated. "Oh, why not?" he said more aggressively. "Because it's none of your business, go away!", I said, crossly and shut the door. This did not deter him and he continued to ring on the door bell and bang on the glass for a further 5 minutes. I think he probably did his training in a young offenders institution!

Back to marking and half an hour later the door bell rang again. This time there was a young man and woman on the doorstep. My heart sank when he started with the same introduction. "Hello, and how's things today?" he said with a pseudo cheerfulness! "Do you have a BT Phone?"This time I managed to dispatch them a little quicker by just smiling sweetly and saying no thank you and shutting the door. He tried to wheedle his way in with a few niceties but this time I just didn't listen.

Back to the marking....

Spam

I often get spam emails telling me that I have won money or inherited a fortune from a long lost relative. To claim my money all I have to do is send details of my bank account and password etc! Here are two good ones that arrived this week,

From Mr. Johnson Iweka.

Attn:

My name is Mr. Johnson Iweka, a banker here in Abidjan, Cote D' Ivoire. I want to transfer $10,500,000 USD belonging to (late) Mr John Hughes who was among the victims here during the political crisis here in the year 2005. You can provide a bank account of your choice for this amount and also the percentage you wish to take for your assistance.

If we agree on the terms, you shall hold the balance of the funds on trust after deducting your percentage, until I will be able to join you with my entire family for investment.

Reply for more details.

Faithfully,

Mr. Johnson Iweka.

And even better...

Dear,Friend.
I am glad to inform you that I have successfully gotten those funds transfered to France through the help of a new partner,Nationality of Isreal but resident in France, I never forgot your help to me, be-kind informed that the total sum of US$2.700.000.00 was maped out for you as a compensation to you for your past effort and expencies which you made trying to assist me with my transfer that time.
Quickly contact my secretary Mr.Robert Jeffrey in Benin Republic at robertbello@hotmail.fr) and instruct him were to send your money to you, remember that I had already left an instruction with him on your behalf to receive that sum.

Presently I am in New Zealand for a business project with my new partner who make my dreams to come true, i will keep in touch with you as soon as i return back to France, may the peace of Lord be with you and your family.

Regards,
Dr.John Mohamed Myers.

Can't get the staff these days

Someone sent me this today and it made me laugh. I sent it to Ian and it made him laugh, so maybe it will make you laugh as well (and that is always a good thing)

Sentences typed by medical secretaries

1. The patient has no previous history of suicides.
2. Patient has left her white blood cells at another hospital
3. Patient's medical history has been unremarkably insignificant with only a 40 pound weight gain in the past 3 days.
4. She has no rigors or shaking chills, but her husband states she was very hot in bed last night.
5. Patient has chest pain if she lies on her left hand side for over a year.
6. On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it disappeared.
7. The patient is tearful and crying constantly. She also appears to be depressed.
8. The patient has been depressed since she began seeing me in 1993.
9. Discharge status:- Alive, but without my permission.
10. Healthy appearing decrepit 69-year old male, mentally alert, but forgetful.
11. Patient had waffles for breakfast and anorexia for lunch.
12. She is numb from her toes down.
13. While in ER, she was examined, x-rated and sent home.
14. The skin was moist and dry.
15. Occasional, constant infrequent headaches.
16. Patient was alert and unresponsive,
17. Rectal examination revealed a normal sized thyroid.
18. She stated that she had been constipated for most of her life until she got a divorce.
19. Both breasts are equal and reactive to light.
20. Examination of genitalia reveals that he is circus sized.
21. The lab test indicated abnormal lover function.
22. The pelvic exam will be done later on the floor.
23. Patient has two teenage children, but no other abnormalities.
24. When she fainted, her eyes rolled around the room.
25. The patient was in his usual state of good health until his airplane ran out of fuel and he crashed.
26. Between you and me, we ought to be able to get this lady pregnant.
27. She slipped on the ice and apparently her legs went in separate directions in early December. 28. By the time he was admitted, his rapid heart had stopped, and he was feeling better.

Last night of the proms

Saturday evening Ian and I did something other than building for a change! We went to the 'Proms in the Park' in Hyde Park, with my brother, sister-in-law and some of their friends. We took a picnic, found a place and spread out our food and drink. It was a lovely evening and the atmosphere was pleasant. Barry Manilow was remarkably good for 67; in tune and very professional. The 'Land of Hope and Glory' bit I always find a bit uncomfortable but it was really quite innocent and the majority of those waving union flags and singing were tourists. Ian tolerated it. It isn't really his thing although he did get to look at the latest stage of my brother's building project. They have now cleared out all of the studio and basement and are hoping to start the building by Christmas.

I can do that...

My meeting with Virginie, the Head of the School of Occupational Therapy in Bordeaux, was an experience. Firstly it was one of the few times that I was on my own without Ian as my interpreter, so I had to depend on my own French. The train from Ste Foy Le Grande was on time and comfortable although not cheap. I arrived in Bordeaux however to find that the public transport system required the use of something like an Oyster card, and as is the case in London, I could not find a convenient place to purchase one. Time was running out so I decided to get a taxi.

Problem number 1- taxi driver was like taxi drivers all over the world and drove off without really knowing where he was going (and as it happened in the opposite direction to where he needed to go) and then proceeded to try and call a number I had to get directions while driving. I put my French into practice and managed to do a very convincing rendition of 'irritable old woman' in French, commanding him to stop the car immediately as it was dangerous to drive when he wasn't looking where he was going. The journey was expensive but I got there in the end!

I arrived and found Virginie. She was about my age, very pleasant and introduced me to her colleagues. "Ahh, she speaks" French, they said. From then on the whole afternoon was conducted in French! I was shown round, we discussed research and why people don't do Masters degrees, the difficulties of working and studying and then they gave me some work to look at! I must admit it is going to take a while to read!

I was exhausted afterwards but quite pleased that I managed as well as I did, although at times I did feel a bit like this!

Countdown

Ian came back from France to find he had no contract. While he was away his fate was discussed and he returned to an email asking him to renegotiate. After much thinking he has agreed to sign on the dotted line for another six months but the event allowed us both to reflect on where we have come and where we are going and to start the countdown for our life in France. In February he will not renew his contract and will concentrate on finishing off the house and getting our properties here sorted and ready to do with them whatever we decide. I will commute over a bit and then when possible join him; hopefully by this time next year.

Tale of the tomatoes and mistaken identities

The problem with going to France for just brief periods is that they are very intense, both in relation to the amount of work that we have to get done and the amount of people we have to visit.

We caught up with Stephane and Stephanie, our neighbours from the village. In fact, we were able to return one of the many invitations that they have given us and invite them for an 'apero' on the terrace at the aperitif hour of 7.00 p.m. I spotted Stephane tending his garden one day while I was cycling home with lunch and decided to put my French to the test by inviting him up to the house 'one evening next week'..At least, I thought that was what I said! When I got back I told Ian. "I think that's what we agreed, but I'm not sure. Maybe you'd better phone them to check". A bit later Ian phoned and I was delighted that Stephane had in fact understood the invite. However, he had not recognised me in my cycle shorts and helmet and thought the invite had come from one of our other cycling neighbours! Turns out we are very confusing! There are three of us English women living virtually next door to each other, who ride our bikes wearing helmets (no self respecting French cyclist would wear a helmet) and other elements of disguise like cycle shorts and dark glasses. The Mayor's secretary calls us 'Les sportives'. We all speak pigeon French with a funny accent and strangely enough we all have blond hair so really the locals don't have much chance. Apparently when trying to distinguish one from the other they say 'you know, the blond one' and then laugh! Anyway, to this day Stephane still thinks he is owed an invite from one of the other blond ones!

Stephane's vegetable garden is very productive and we were given some tomatoes and peaches from their overspill! Ian happened to mention that I really liked French tomatoes and in fact did not eat the English ones. (This is true. To me the watery English variety are so insipid and acidic compared to the sweet, juicy tomatoes that you get further south). With that, Stephane promised to bring us some tomatoes to take back to England the day before we left and true to his word on the Friday evening he arrived with this enormous box of tomatoes!

As lovely as they were there was no way Ian and I could use up that many tomatoes before they went bad so last week I had my first attempt at making and bottling tomato sauce! I searched for recipes on the Internet and in the end decided to go with just putting the hot sauce into sterile jars with a tight lid that fortunately sealed as the jars cooled. Hopefully I have done enough to avoid botulism! Peeling the tomatoes took a while and I'm afraid I did not have the patience to remove the seeds but I have 16 jars of summer tomato sauce to remind us of France over the winter.

Of things septic

Living in rural France sounds wonderful until you realise that things like regular rubbish collections and mains drainage are luxuries that you only get in the city! Country folk have to dig their own hole! In the past these were self constructed, rough and ready things with drains going nowhere and barely capable of coping with a couple of flushes. Many will be familiar with the smell of a poorly constructed French septic tank, and for that reason France has now some of the strictest requirements and regulations in Europe with regards to the provision and construction of such apparatus, requiring soil surveys and inspections and very large sums of money.

The installation of the septic tank involved the digging of a very large hole, in which was placed a large concrete tank. To prevent it floating away this then had to be filled with water (at a cost of 80 euros).

From the tank, a drain is dug leading to a pit 20 metres square. This will become our filter bed, consisting of layers of sand, gravel and sand to filter and clean the water from the tank. The run off from this, which should be clean, then has to be directed to a drain or ditch of some sort. The tank itself needs to be vented away from any buildings to avoid that nasty dead cabbage smell permeating the air!

After Warren has fitted all of this and got it working we have to get it approved and certified by something called the 'SPANC' or something that sounded very like that! All in all it is a big project and something we hope will be finished when we return in October.

In memory

I describe my blog as being about life, llamas and cycling. Well, today it is more about death and cycling, which sounds awful but as death is part of life and affects us all at some time it is only appropriate that I write about it here when it does.

I was searching for something on google and by accident came across this news story from June 2007 concerning a plane crash in Malawi which five Britons died. Reading through, I recognised the name of one of them, Daniel Turnberg as I had been on a mountain biking holiday with him in Greece about 10 years ago. In fact, I still have an old photo from that holiday up above my desk at work showing us all sitting in restaurant by the sea, enjoying a beer or two. I remember him as a really nice guy, easy going and good company. I knew he was a doctor but he never told us that his father was a Peer. He was the sort of person that could get on with anyone from any background or walk of life and really was popular. My particular memory is of the last night of the holiday, when everyone was rather drunk but we were both less drunk than the rest and were very worried about people diving in the sea. In the end we escorted the tour guide home and made sure she got to bed safely as she was too drunk to stand up!

I was a little shocked and surprised that I had not been aware of this news at the time and it felt very strange to be hearing this two years later, but now that I have looked back on by blog to check what I was doing I can see that it was at the time when my mother was ill and we were packing up her house, so I guess I was otherwise distracted.

I read down the article a little more and two of the other names seemed familiar as well. I then realised that Dawn and Colin, two of the other victims, had been on the mountain bike trip that I did to Japan in 2004. The trip had been hard and we had faced hurricanes, landslides, rain, Japanese food and the intrusion of a BBC film crew together for two weeks. You get to know people quite well in those circumstances and although I did not keep in touch for long after I felt very saddened by this additional news. Out of the five dead I knew three of them. It felt so strange to think that in my head for the past two years I have been imaging them as alive and yet they haven't been.

I have had enough happen to me to realise that death happens quite easily and I don't take my life or other people's life for granted but those thoughts don't stop the sadness and I sat at my desk and shed a few tears over the computer. I feel quite a bond with people I know or have known from my various cycling activities and I think it is because it seems to attract the type of people that definitely take 'the road less travelled' in life. Most have not gone down the married with 2.4 children route, or if they have, they often have a far from traditional view of the world and within this broad group I have found people that I can identify with.


So...to Dan, Colin and Dawn. Thank you for the memories and for making the holidays such great fun and for being such good companions for all those ups and downs, even though I did not know you for long. I imagine you all now tackling that heavenly singletrack, laughing over a cold beer afterwards and gliding smoothly down the celestial hills.. and if, while you're there, you happen to come across a nice titanium framed hardtail mountain bike that looks like it might fit me, please put it aside for me when I arrive.

Off into the sunrise

Well, we are now back home. My efforts at writing draft blog entries while away dwindled as the workload increased and my reserves depleted. However, sometimes it is better to wait a little while before committing stories to print and I have lots of things saved up in my head! However, tonight, with the third lot of washing about to start and the thought of work tomorrow I have no energy but will finish with a picture of the house taken yesterday morning as the sun rose and we were leaving to head north!

A belated post 3. the first week

We have been here a week now and I no longer know what day of the week it is! After the rain on Sunday the temperature has steadily increased and today it was 38 degrees (and probably hotter in the direct sun). We have spent a week trying to get on with work in the house. Warren appeared on Monday with his small digger and dug up the drive to install the pipe work for the water and electricity. By the end of the week he had dug out the soggy earth around the house and laid two layers of drainage (with the aid of his assistant Alexandro, an unemployed painter and decorator who will do just about anything for 80 Euros a day in cash!) By Thursday the drive was back to normal and we are hoping for rain to test out the drains. Looking at the storm clouds on the horizon Ian thinks it will rain tonight but I am not convinced.
On Thursday we invited our neighbours round for dinner. This time last year we sat on a concrete slab and ate lunch in the dining room. This year we were able to prepare a meal for friends, sleep in our bedroom, shower in our temporary shower and flush our temporary toilet (into the field somewhere). It was just great to sit there and hear the cicadas and the owls. We also realised just how fantastic the sky is at night. We can see Venus from our room and the stars are amazing when uncontaminated by light pollution!
Talking of contamination our neighbours half a mile away kept us awake last night with a party! Here we are in the middle of nowhere and you realise that sound carries for miles without buildings to block its passage.
Today we got back to modern life by going to Bordeaux to visit various DIY shops for more urgent supplies and also to visit IKEA. We had meatballs for lunch and it was just like being in Croydon except the toilets were dirtier and the coffee was stronger!

A belated post 2.... arriving

After a long drive we arrived at the house just after dark, unpacked, made the bed and fell asleep. It was humid and we were both a little over tired by the time we laid down and so it was a bit of a restless night. In the early hours the lightning flashes woke us up, followed quite shortly afterwards by thunder and heavy rain. I tried to go back to sleep but Ian was awake and leaped out of bed. I don’t know how long he was away for but he was stark naked, wandering around with only his wellington boots and a torch. When he finally came back to bed he was playing with his phone.
“What are you doing?” I moaned.
“just been down to the cellar... took a video of the water pouring in through the walls”
Despite the new guttering the damp problem has still not been solved!
Today it has rained all day but the forecast is more promising! (Even the sunflowers didn’t bother to wake up today!)

(actually the didn't wake up for the entire three weeks as they are ripe and now drooped over and turning black in anticipation of being harvested)

A belated post.. the journey down

The journey down to the house was not entirely uneventful. The roads were busy (for France) and although there were no traffic jams the services were full and finding a parking spot was difficult. We stopped for lunch in the ‘baise de somme’ which is in the middle of a nature reserve. There were very few parking spots and the only place we could park was on the grass. We set up our picnic in a place that didn’t smell quite so strongly of p*ss as everywhere else.
When it came time to leave Ian cautiously reversed the van out and went to exit just as Mr Frenchman in a Mercedes pulled in. There then followed scenes reminiscent of the standoff at the OK Corralle, with Mr Mercedes refusing to reverse or go up on the grass, the cars behind refusing to reverse back and Ian getting more and more grumpy! After a few minutes Mr Mercedes very reluctantly pulled over and we were able to leave. As I attempted to get in the van Mrs Mercedes said something to me to the effect of ‘it is a one way’ and ‘you stupid English’. Well, it wasn’t a one-way and Ian was now at the end of his fuse and decided to get out and have a row with Mr Mercedes, convincing him that although English his knowledge of French swearwords was indeed fluent.
Eventually I managed to drag Ian away, avoiding an International incident, and we continued South.

Normal service will be resumed shortly

Not sure whether I will get to do much blogging over the next three weeks as Ian has a gruelling programme of work planned and our internet access is restricted to logging in to the neighbours wireless network. We are off on Saturday morning and I need to pack!

More b*ll*cks about Lupus

Related to my post yesterday, there is now talk that Michael Jackson had lupus. Actually this isn't so far fetched and could go some way to explaining his wearing of the glove to cover his hand, his occasional wheelchair use, the umbrella to keep off the sun and maybe even his dependence on pain killers, if that proves to be the case. Initially I felt a little disappointed that he had not been open about this during his life but then when I read this quote from his 'friend', Dr Deepak Chopra

"if children have experienced either physical or verbal, mental, emotional or sexual abuse, then 20,30 years later they can develop these autoimmune disorders such as lupus"

..I was more sympathetic. No wonder he never felt able to be honest about it if this was the kind of cr*p he was being told! There is a link between symptoms and stress, as stress affects the immune system, but this is far from straightforward. Of course there is no reason why people who have been abused shouldn't get lupus but as far as I can see there is no reliable evidence that suggests that they are more vulnerable to it! I have never been abused and I don't drink diet coke but I still have an auto-immune disease.

Seeing red

Chairman Bill has been blogging recently about conspiracy theories, medical quackery and pseudo science. It reminded me of a post I read the other day on a forum that is designed to give information to residents and guests staying in the region around the land. This post appeared under the title 'Food and Wine' and was a tirade against the artificial sweetener aspartame, copied by all accounts from an American website. The title of the post was 'sweet poison' and basically went on to blame every medical complaint known to man on the use of this particular substance. I found most of it vaguely amusing until I got to this part.

"In the keynote address by the EPA, it was announced that in the United States in 2001 there is an epidemic of multiple sclerosis and systemic lupus. It was difficult to determine exactly what toxin was causing this to be rampant. I stood up and said that I was there to lecture on exactly that subject. I will explain why Aspartame is so dangerous: When the temperature of this sweetener exceeds 86 degrees F, the wood alcohol in ASPARTAME converts to formaldehyde and then to formic acid, which in turn causes metabolic acidosis.. Formic acid is the poison found in the sting of fire ants. The methanol toxicity mimics, among other conditions, multiple sclerosis and systemic lupus. Systemic lupus has become almost as rampant as multiple sclerosis, especially with Diet Coke and Diet Pepsi drinkers.

The victim usually does not know that the Aspartame is the culprit. He or she continues its use; irritating the lupus to such a degree that it may become a life-threatening condition. We have seen patients with systemic lupus become asymptotic, once taken off diet sodas."

Well, as one of the writer's so called 'victims' of a disease very similar to lupus I can say that it is this kind of unhelpful b*llocks that really p*sses off people with lupus and other auto-immune diseases. Auto-immune diseases are not caused by a toxin but by the body's immune system malfunctioning and starting to attack and destroy healthy cells. The exact mechanisms are still a little unknown but there is definitely a genetic component. And.. yes.. there are more people being diagnosed with all these diseases but this is not due to artificial sweetener but to the fact that more doctors know about auto-immune diseases and diagnosis is easier (and there are many more treatments available). My grandmother (who lived until she was 98) would get a rash on her face in the sun. This was almost certainly lupus but when she was young no one knew what it was and so she was never diagnosed. My own illness was only identified in 1976 so before then the numbers of cases were obviously limited.

Auto-immune disorders are characterised by flares and remissions and so if anyone did feel 'cured' after stopping the diet coke then I would guess that it was most likely due to a natural remission or placebo!

I can only hope that no one with lupus is stupid enough to believe that cr*p and stop their medication in order to try the aspartame free cure! If it was really that easy to cure lupus don't you think we would all have done it by now!

I would like to conclude my moan by saying that personally, I have never really seen the point of artificial sweeteners myself and never drink coke or fizzy drinks unless they contain alcohol (now there is a proven poison!)

On a totally different note, Ian got an email from his agency today telling him that it was company policy that if he became ill with swine flu he must stay off work until he is better. Now as the only way you can be sure that you have swine flu and not the more common illness of man flu, is to have a blood test, and these are not being carried out routinely this seems to be an order that is impossible to enforce! (Of course man-flu would require a week off work anyway!)

A working holiday

Our three week trip to France is approaching fast and we are planning, packing, and organising to make sure that we have enough tools and materials to do all the work that Ian has planned. Ian always thinks we will do more than we actually manage, but even if we just do half the things on this trip then we will have worked hard! This time last year all we had was a concrete base and now we are plumbing, wiring, insulating and building walls, so we are moving forward. We are meeting Warren on Monday. Warren is an English chap with a digger who is going to dig the hole for our septic tank and various other trenches and drains. He arrives first thing Monday morning.

One thing that I did last year was to contact the head of the school of occupational therapy in Bordeaux. It was a long shot and something I wasn't even sure that I wanted to pursue as my plan was to be a full time llama farmer and bed and breakfast landlady. Anyway, my first approaches were warmly welcomed and to cut a long story short, when we are away this time I am taking a trip to Bordeaux to meet her and her colleagues and to consider the possibility of some sessional work! The winters there are long and cold and I will need something to do!

A French wedding

We had a very quick trip to France at the weekend to attend the wedding of Ian's friends Jacques-Paul and Madeline. Ian had only ever been to one wedding before in France and I had never been so it was a new experience for us.

We arrived at our hotel after lunch and checked in. We settled down to watch the penultimate stage of the Tour de France from the bed, showering and changing in the ad breaks. It was probably the most crucial stage but the Mairie was calling us and we could not be late so reluctantly we left half an hour before the end to make our way to Jacques-Paul's village. We arrived at his house just in time to join them in their 100 metre walk to the Mairie.

There was only room for about 20 people in the room so most of us stood outside while the Maire conducted the official ceremony and then we all escorted the couple back to their house.

After the signing of the papers (very important in France) the children appeared with carrier bags full of confetti, which they proceeded to throw over everything, with great relish, leaving a carpet of coloured paper all over the pavement.

There then followed something called a 'vin d'honneur', where we had champagne, sangria, brioche and sort of sweet chou pastry buns. This went on for about 2 hours with no drying up of the bar and then in true French fashion those that were invited to the meal got in their cars and drove to the 'Salle de fetes' (village hall) 4 km away. Well they had to drive since most were too drunk to walk!

There was then more drink and a few snacks and then a bit of a hiatus in the proceedings due to the non-arrival of the caterer with all the food! We never did find out what happened but when he eventually arrived at 10.00pm we were all relieved. A 5 course meal commenced with each course interspersed by dancing. Most people danced themselves sober. Unfortunately we let the side down and had to give up and return to the hotel before the cheese course at 2.30 a.m! Desert and cake were still to come!

There in spirit

I followed the stage of the Tour de France on television while my brother and sister-in--law watched it from the roadside. Although you get all the atmosphere and excitement when you watch it live you also have to stand still for ages, you see them go by in a few seconds and then its all over! So, my brother had to resort to text messages to find out the situation. Here is what we said to each other.

Last night
Lovely: Hope u r out there writing Bradley Wiggin's name on the road 4 when he comes by 2morrow as he is third overall.

Lovely's brother: Will write it just below Lovely, will be in Chinaillon village to see it.

This afternoon:
Lovely's brother: We are at the top of the Col (de la Columbiere).

Lovely: They are 40k away. Brad Wig still there but they will try and shake him off. P.S. Am watching live!

Lovely: Brad holding on

Lovely's brother: Who's ahead? We are on the right on a small slope 30ft from the peak.

Lovely: Changing all the time. They have dropped Wiggins.

Lovely: Contador. Sclecksx2 (they are brothers) and Kloden. Wigs trying 2 get back with Armstrong.

Lovely's brother: How far? Jude (sister in law) needs the loo!

Lovely: 30 mins

Lovely: Heading down 2wards the final climb. Wave!

Lovely: If Brad Wig is not too far behind at top he could make up time in time trial 2morrow.

Lovely's brother: Lot of support 4 him here

Lovely: Sarkosy was at the finish

Lovely's brother: He's a knob, who won and where was Wig?

Lovely: Schlek. Wig 3 minutes down. May pick up more time 2morrow. Armstrong did well.

Smile

Someone sent me this at work today which made me smile!

I don't know where it originates from so can't credit the maker I'm afraid!

Wish I was there

I have been watching the Tour de France every evening and have been delighted to see that Bradley Wiggins is doing so well; being in third place overall and with a pretty good chance of placing in the top three by Paris. I have also become a 'fan' of Lance Armstrong on facebook. Well, I have been a 'fan' for years as it was the story of his heroic recovery from testicular cancer that gave me hope that I would get some kind of life back when I was ill myself. OK, my illness has no 'cure' as such but is controlled. Tomorrow is the longest and hardest stage of the Tour this year goes from Bourg-Saint-Maurice to Le Grand-Bornand and, as you can see from the profile picture below, is a rather mountainous route!

However one thing that I am deeply disappointed about is that I could have been there at the end! The peleton pass by the front door of my brother's chalet on their way down from the Col de la Columbiere, the final climb. I cycled up it two years ago, a year after my illness. It was the first time I had really tested my body and although it hurt like hell and I had to stop a lot I am pleased to say that I got there in the end and have the picture to prove it! We went up the easy route however! The tour is going up the other side which is steeper and more twisty! Good luck Bradley!

All jammed out

I have rather neglected blogging over the past few days in favour of fruit picking and jam making. This year my blackcurrants and redcurrants were even more prolific than last year and I could leave the picking no longer. So.. last weekend I picked the blackcurrants and this weekend the redcurrants (3 hours to pick all the redcurrants!)


I have been trying to empty out my freezer so I can defrost it and I still had some of last years fruit in there. Not wishing to add more from this year I started on a bumper jam making extravaganza that ended up requiring 4 trips to Lakeland to buy more jars and lids, as many trips to the supermarket to buy sugar. The result so far is 42 jars of jam. I have jellies and jams of both flavours and now have to think of something to do with the stuff as it is beyond my needs! (I still have 2 kg of redcurrants to use up!)

This is just four of the 42!

All in a days work

One of my colleagues has the flu. No one says it is swine flu but then in July it's the only kind of flu likely to be going around. She feels a bit ill but seems to be recovering fast and so should be able to enjoy the end of the week at home as she has been signed off work until next Monday!

Ian has been working hard in France; mostly nagging the builder and other people to give him quotes. He has however plumbed in a temporary shower and toilet so we will not have to resort to going to the neighbours for our daily wash!

!

I have been enjoying watching Mark Cavendish win his forth stage of the Tour de France!

Past catches up with me

I posted earlier about our family reunion. My second cousin and I are the same age (a complicated state of affairs!) and as children we used to play together. My cousin was about 15 years older than me so when we were about 5-6 he was around 20 and apparently liked to try to impress his girlfriends. Now I don't really remember this bit but he didn't deny it so I assume it was true! At our reunion he had some old photos from those times which thanks to the wonders of modern technology (a scanner) and clever people (his young employees) I can now publish for posterity

!

This is me (on the right), my second cousin and my cousin. What better way to get a woman than to show your caring side either by taking your dog for a walk in the park or taking your young cousins out for the day! Here we are at London Zoo. It obviously worked as there are not one but two lovely ladies!

Finally here is a picture of my second cousin and me looking delightful!

A little bit of France in England

I'm a little fed up at the moment as Ian has gone to France and I don't have anymore holiday left so on this occasion I can't join him. Having a weekend to myself is always a bit of a double-edged sword these days as although I relish the time to get on with jobs and things in the house the lack of company means that I am less productive than I should be!


Anyway, yesterday I attempted to make jam from last years blackcurrants and redcurrants before picking this year's crop. The rain gave me a good excuse not go outside and the Tour de France gave me another excuse to relax in the afternoon! However, today the sun shone. One thing about living by the sea is that you hardely ever go there and as it was a nice day and I had heard there was a French market on the seafront, I decided to go. I thought that somehow going to a French market would make me feel almost like I was in France! When I got there I found there were more treats in store as it was the annual 999 rescue show! This, according to the website promised:
" a fantastic array of emergency service displays including the HM Coastguard, RNLI, Ambulance service, Fire and Rescue and the Police Service.."

Also there were representatives from the French Gendarme which made me feel a little closer to France!

Unfortunately the promised demonstration by the RNLI had to be postponed as they got called out to a real rescue! (Although it was quite sunny there was a strong wind and the sea was a little choppy!

The French market proved to be about as French as the cheese section at Tesco! This stall selling sausages (along with a couple of cheese sellers with dodgy French accents) was about the most French and they competed alongside a fudge stall, a pick and mix sweet stall, a stall selling African looking Kaftans and a man selling Greek pastries!

The town itself has tried hard to rid itself of its Costa Geriatrica image in recent times and there was some evidence to that effect. Note the advertising potential..

and row of Mediterranean looking sunbeds (but without the Mediterranean bodies on them I'm afraid!)

All in all it was a pleasant day and I enjoyed it more than I have on previous occasions. It's funny how the sun makes everything look good!

Doris Elmer

The family party at the weekend went well and it was good to see people after so many years. When you first see people after a long time you are instantly struck with how much older they look, but this lasts a matter of seconds and then you don't notice it anymore. It just goes to show how little of peoples' appearance is due to their physical features.

After a while we started talking about family parties of old. My aunt May (on this occasion I will use her actual name as she died some time ago) was a real party person. She would cook vol au vonts, cheese and pineapple on sticks, cucumber sandwiches and flans and keep the wine flowing for the adult guests. She would organise party games, sing songs and usually would dress up in fancy dress. (I have a photo somewhere which I will try and work out how to scan and post). She was always accompanied by her friend Doris.

Doris was a family friend. She married her husband Bill during the second world war. They had been married 3 months and he was killed in Normandy. She idolised his memory and never forgot him or remarried despite plenty of prompting from May. My cousin, who knew her better than me recalled that after the war she went to France and found Bills grave. She also found the farm where he died and made friends with the people that lived there. Every year she went over to visit Bills grave. She used to live in Camden Town and when I was working around that way I remember visiting her in her small council flat. Far from leading an isolated and lonely life, she was quite a key person in her community; representing the local senior citizens on various committees and attending many local clubs and groups.

After she died her friends asked my cousin what they should do with her ashes and he immediately suggested that they be scattered over Bill's grave in France. As far as I know getting official permission to do this was getting complicated so they just went over and did it anyway without permission!

Summer is here

I know that summer is really here when the Tour de France starts. We have just watched Mark Cavendish win the second stage in a great sprint finish. For the next few weeks my evenings will be governed by the highlights on ITV 4 or Eurosport.

Reunion 2

My second weekend of reunions approaches quickly. My cousin emigrated to Australia 40 years ago. We are not a close extended family and I think the last time we were all together was at my father's funeral 25 years ago. My cousin came for a visit 5 years ago but I was too ill to come and meet everyone. However, this time I have no excuse so we are picking up my mother tomorrow lunchtime and heading off to meet with cousins and second cousins that I haven't seen for a very long time.

Unfit

We really haven't been doing much cycling this year as we have had to concentrate on the house most weekends. In fact, until yesterday I hadn't ridden my mountain bike for a year or so. We had planned to ride at the weekend, initially on the road with some of Ian's friends, but they had dropped out. Ian would have been happy not to have cycled but I insisted so to make me suffer he suggested a mountain bike ride! All the routes from my house involve going uphill rather suddenly. I picked what I thought was the easiest one but even so I had to stop twice going up the 12% hill to get my breath back! I am not very fit at the moment! Once at the top and after my heart rate had calmed down I really enjoyed being outside although I think need to get fitter so that it doesn't hurt so much! I guess it didn't help that it was the hottest day of the year so far! We cycled out to Birling Gap, which was packed with visitors.

I was exhausted and Ian was a bit bored since he can cycle so much faster than me. We passed on tea and ice cream (although I did take some photos) and headed home. I did not find the journey back quite so difficult and Ian had cheered up a bit! Despite being neat the sea the air was sultry and the sea calm but hazy.

I had a follow up appointment with the rheumatologist today. Despite my lack of fitness I am feeling quite well although he was concerned about the fact that my hands are rather puffy and seem to be getting quite tight. The decision was made to try increasing my medication and try to stretch them to keep them flexible. I also have to go and have another load of blood tests since one test I had a few months ago had a dodgy result. The trouble with having regular tests is that sooner or later one of them will be a bit strange and that triggers off a whole round of investigations which usually turn out negative. Well, I hope that is the case this time.

A sad tale

Chairman Bill writes that although he liked Michael Jackson's music none of his songs have any great meaning for him in relation to events in his life. I cannot say the same. Michael Jackson was the same age as me and so when he was singing 'Ben' and 'Got to be There' I was a teenager like him. I can remember calling down the stairs at the youth club disco for my friend to come back upstairs as they were playing our favourite Michael Jackson song. Over the years I have continued to listen to his music although have had some ambivalence about his reported lifestyle.

I will always remember where I was when I heard he had died (in bed and just about to drop off to sleep when Radio 4 news reported that it was believed that he had died) just as we can all remember where we were when Diana died and when we we heard about the 9/11 terrorist attack. (Psychologists call this flashbulb memory).

I have heard many opinions about him and his music over the last few days but this sums up my view. The whole situation was very tragic. Even as a young boy his talent was obvious but he was brought up in an abusive home and it seems never had a childhood himself. He then spent the rest of his life making amazing music but also trying to recreate the childhood he never had and getting himself into trouble as he went. After all, two boys sharing a bed together is fine when they are both children but when one is a child and one is a man with the psychology of a child then this becomes something else. He likened himself to Peter Pan, who never grew up. Although you can hide your age when you are 25, 30 and maybe for some at 40, I know for a fact that at 50 whatever you do, it shows! So, whether he died of natural causes, addiction to painkillers or some other more sinister hand, I don't know, but I would guess that he would never have coped with being a child in an old man's body.

Reunions

I am feeling quite tired after what feels like six months of socialising in the space of a few days! The day after the wedding I went to the 25th birthday party of the choir I used to sing with. In my day we were a community choir with no auditions and do-it-yourself performances but now they have moved onto bigger things. The party was in Kings Place, a new arts venue near Kings Cross station. The building was lovely and the evening was great but not nearly enough time to catch up with the 20 odd people that I hadn't seen for about 8 years! My voice was hoarse and I was getting a bit fed up with repeating the same information time and time again! I was also not very good at walking in my sandals with a heel and was disappointed to see that the venue had few seats and we were expected to stand all evening!

This week I have been at a the College of Occupational Therapists annual conference in Brighton. We are manning a stand in the exhibition with the aim of promoting our courses and the University. It has been successful but relatively hard work as we have been busy. I have also been delighted to catch up with colleagues I haven't seen for several years. A good bit of reminiscing about old times and our drunken exploits at previous conferences had ensued although this time I have been 'tee-total' as alcohol seems to make my hot flushes worse!

The big day

Yesterday was my sister's wedding so I am quite tired today (read a little hung over)... We spent the night in the guest room at my mother's apartment block, which was extremely comfortable and good value at £15.00 per night for Windsor during Ascot. Getting ourselves and my mother ready proved to be no easy task! My mother is not one to enjoy dressing up and even at her own wedding insisted on removing her headdress and washing out her set hair an hour beforehand. She was happy enough in the trousers but insistent that the hat had to go! We were under strict instructions from my sister to make sure she wore it so there was a bit of a battle with the hat coming on and off several times. In the end she wore it for some photos and to go into and out of the Guildhall and then managed to abandon it for the rest of the evening!


My sister looked very happy and my new brother-in-law's parting words were "and don't put this on your blog". So I won't.. just a few unrelated pictures and stories! (The picture is of Ian, me and my mother in the communal room at her place. Several of the ladies had come out to see the rare sight of my mother dressed up!)

My sister's big day

I seem to be a bit busy at the moment with work and other things. My sister's wedding is on Friday (it seems to have come around rather quickly) so I am rushing around trying to get myself organised to finish work tomorrow and drive over to Ian's in the evening. I was hoping to learn my reading off by heart, but I don't think it is going to happen ass there is not enough space left in my brain! This is what I have to read:

Captain Corelli's Mandolin

Louis de Bernieres
Love is a temporary madness,it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides.

And when it subsides you have to make a decision.

You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part.

Because this is what love is.

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion.

That is just being "in love" which any fool can do.

Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.

Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.

Initial discomfort

Ian and I are quite different in some ways. I like to clearly see where I am going and like to know how things will work. If the situation changes as I go on then I am quite good at adapting but I like to see the plan. Ian on the other hand is happy to visualise the end product and what is happening today but doesn't need to have all the details filled out in between. I think you need that kind of approach to build a house as I would never have got off of base if it was up to me. However, the down side is that at times, when things seem to get stuck, Ian gets fed up. Fortunately I am quite good at seeing the positives at these times so, unless we both happen to be low at the same time, we generally keep each other going.

For the past week Ian has been a little demotivated and I have been trying to look for positives. We were discussing these issues at the weekend and both agreed that things are quite hard in that we have our houses 60 miles apart, both houses are in need of some work before we can sell/rent them, we both have busy and demanding jobs and we are trying to co-ordinate and work on a home that is a 12 hour drive away (and we do not have enough money to just give it all up and go now). We agreed that this really was too much for anyone, although we still have a clear view of where we want to be in the end that keeps us going. The problem is we both want to be there now and our respective houses no longer feel like home. 'Home' has become a building site in France. This is in a way a great feeling as it means that our spiritual selves have shifted in the right direction but unfortunately our physical selves cannot join them just yet (causing a little bit of discomfort).

Grand designs

This weekend was spent doing a long promised job for Ian's mother. She has a large garden and six water butts and Ian had promised to connect them all up to collect all the rain water from the roof and thus make sure she had enough rain water to water her plants. The first stage involved making a plinth along the side of the house to stand the water butts on. This was relatively straightforward. The next job however, assembling something Ian called a 'manifold' out of various bits of copper pipe, brass taps and hose seemed rather more complex and the finished product looked like something found in a engine room. Various lengths of plastic hose were connected up between the taps, the water butts and the downpipes from the gutter. A test-run was commenced and unfortunately the connections seemed to leak due, according to Ian, to the inadequacy of the hose clips. Hence I was dispatched forthwith to Toolstation to purchase some more of a different size.

Toolstation is a warehouse outlet for all building, electrical and DIY materials. Ian discovered it recently and we are now regular customers as they are quite good value. The staff are usually helpful and unlike their rival Screwfix they usually keep most things in stock. However, today as I entered the store the young woman near the counter disappeared in the other direction. From the rows of supplies I could here someone talking to a mobile phone. The conversation continued a few minutes more before, exasperated, the woman said "You have a customer. Can't you call back later?!" After a little while the man on the phone appeared, still talking on the phone.

"Sorry mate, just got to serve a customer.. what did you want?" (to me but still talking on the phone). I told him, he typed a few things on his computer, continued his conversation, typed a few things more, asked me again what I wanted, continued on the phone, asked me my address and postcode, continued on the phone, went and got my order, took my money and was still talking away on the phone (arranging his night out) when I left the store. Who says men can't multi-task!

Postscript: even with the new hose clips the 'manifold' still leaks. Back to the drawing board!

Job Interview from hell

It's the interview season at work and we have been busily recruiting new fodder for next year! Here are a few things I would recommend that you don't say at your interview....

I think I can be a good therapist because I had to deal with some serious shit with my friends at Uni and so I think I can do it

I find alcohol helps me when I am stressed.

I want to come here because you are all so nice.

God wants me to be a therapist.

I wanted to be a doctor but I don't think I am clever enough so I thought I would be a therapist.

I wouldn't have to work with really sick people would I?

I went out with a therapist once and he/she said I would be good at it.

I want to do a job where I can really help people (far too unrealistic).

House naming 2

We finally got round to erecting the house sign when we were in France; or at least we found a temporary home for it hopefully far enough away from anywhere where a buldozer could knock it over! I must admit I think it looks rather like a grave!

Natural beauty

I have been spending a couple of days working in Limerick and so last night I watched a documentary about 'The Calender Girls' 10 years on from my hotel room. We were commenting this morning on how beautiful these women are. Despite their age, lack of make-up and far from perfect bodies their naturalness and contentment really shine through. Another thing I did last night was write this blog entry although technical difficulties (lack of drivers for the dongle!) prevented me from accessing the wireless network at the hotel.

The most amazing thing for me about our trip to France this time was the wildlife and flowers. We were awoken the first morning at daybreak by the sound of tweeting. This was not the internet variety but real tweets from birds. Closer investigation revealed a bird's nest in the roof. The mother bird did not seem to be particularly bothered by our noise and continued to go in and out for food tirelessly from day break to sunset. Looking up into the nest we saw three little chicks poking their heads out. Even the sound of Ian firing his nail gun into a wall did not deter them and they continued feeding throughout. After a few days the noise got less and less frequent and the baby birds seemed to have moved around in the roof. By the end of the week they had flown the nest but were not far away as we saw them learning to fly from the safety of the llama house. Our neighbours had also had a nest in their outhouse and from discussions and subsequent internet research it looks like they were black redstarts. We were also woken the first morning by another strange noise that I had never heard before. It was a kind of low grunting noise and I sent Ian out to investigate! It turned out to be a rather randy male pheasant trying to attract the two girls that live in Herman’s farm. We didn’t hear him for the rest of the week so I assume he got lucky!

The rain and sun had caused the plants to grow. The dock was 4 foot high!

Ian and I walked around the land. Herman had told us that the end meadow was full of wild flowers in May but we had never been there before and couldn’t see much from the house but thought we should wander over to look. Well, we were not disappointed. Coming over the slope in the field we were got our first view of a sea of pyramid orchids and daisies. I would say that there was about two acres altogether of totally untouched meadow.

The pictures really do not do it justice. Within that we also found some of these which I think are bee orchids and probably a whole lot of other things that I don’t know about.

Unfortunately the field was also full of ragwort, which is toxic to horses and llamas so will have to go!

Girl with power tool

While Ian was plaster boarding I had a go with the power tools. I quite enjoyed strimming (well Ian calls it a brush cutter and says that strimmers are smaller and what you use in garden but it looked like a strimmer to me!). Health and Safety man would have been proud of me in my Kevlar gloves, hard hat, ear protectors, face guard, steel capped boots, heavy duty trousers and dust mask (I am allergic to grass pollen!) The only problem was that it was 30 degrees and after 20 minutes I was in danger of collapsing with heat exhaustion!

(PS. Lets see how many accidental hits I get with this title. I am sure they will not be looking for a picture of me with a strimmer!)