I don't believe it...

Bergerac airport is very small and the only flights that arrive regularly are those of Ryan Air. There is no air traffic control for landing so if visibility is too poor or it is too windy the pilots have to fly on to Bordeaux or Toulouse and that is probably the most exiting thing that ever happens..that is until last week. A British woman had been doing a bit of shopping in the local second hand shop and as a present for her military obsessed husband she bought an old World War 2 shell. She packed this into her hand luggage and as it passed through the rudimentary x-ray machine at Bergerac all hell broke loose! She was arrested, all flights were suspended and the bomb disposal team were called. Her suitcase and its contents formed part of a controlled explosion in a field. She later said that she didn't realise it would cause a problem and was not charged (although I would imagine she was a little embarrassed!). (After all, you can't even bring a bottle of water on, let alone explosives!) It does give me a few sleepless nights to imagine what we might have to put up with in the bed and breakfast!

En retard sur les chantiers

Progress on the house in France is faltering! Our builder was supposed to start last week but our spies informed us that there was no sign! We emailed and left a message on his mobile expressing our desire to be able to progress with the plumbing when we come out in October. We finally had an email expressing his sincere apologies for the fact that he is en retard sur mes chantiers or behind with his buildings, and saying that one of his staff had left (probably the one who had been arguing with his son when we last saw them!) He stated enthusiastically that by the time we get there in October he will be building the walls (which probably means he will start the day before we get there!) Such is life in the world of building I fear!

The green house is now the white house

The 'green house' before



This weekend has been busy. When I bought my house I couldn't fail to notice that the rendering was painted green. Although it did look a little odd I didn't really hate it at first and it came in quite handy when directing people here,"you can't miss it. It's the green one". I soon discovered that all the neighbours also referred to it as the green house, although they didn't all appreciate its eccentricity! Over the last few years it has also become more and more faded and the time had come to re-paint it. Fortunately it was a great weekend and so I chose a more neutral 'almond white' colour and we started Saturday and finished today. You can see the before and after pictures below! The paint is guaranteed for 15 years and Ian worked out that he will be 61 before it should need repainting again!



and after!

PS: we used a scaffold tower, bits of a ladder, no harnesses and after the children climbed up the tower as if it were a climbing frame! No health and safety man to be seen anywhere!

All that we know is nothing really changes

So in the end the governments had to step in and stop the significant economies of the world from going down the toilet. Suddenly people are saying that speculative trading is immoral (which it probably is but no one worried about it when everything was going well and they were making lots of money). I have lived through a stock market crash and house price crisis before. At one time I had significant negative equity in my tiny, grotty one bedroom flat in a not too nice part of London. I was discussing this with a colleague the other day and we agreed that this experience had made us much more cautious so we do not have enormous debts or generally think it is okay to live above our means. If this experience makes another generation more cautious in the future and less inclined to believe the people trying to sell them the impossible then that is not a bad thing. I think these things are just part of the natural cycle of life recorded in the Bible and probably known for time immemorial. You have seven years of prosperity and seven years of famine and you must save in the prosperous times for the famine. Shame those gambling on the money market did not take note.

Distant memories

My summer in France now feels like a distant memory! Work has picked up pace and I am fully into the flow. I can't believe I was ever away or that things continued in my absence! The list of things that I have to do is getting longer and longer and the weekends seem to be getting shorter and shorter! (Along with the days.. it is now dark at 7.00 and pretty soon it will be winter!)

On being totally honest

So Gordon Brown has admitted that his performance lately during the imminent collapse of all Western economies has not been that good. Unfortunately, although I admire honesty in this instance it does not make me feel better! Its a bit like that question they used to ask at job interviews, "what are your strengths and weaknesses?" Now we all know that you have to answer this question strategically and balance your reasoned account of your great strengths with a mention of one or two fairly innocuous weaknesses that will not stand in the way of you getting the job. Similarly, when I was writing my PhD thesis I got to the bit where you have to evaluate and discuss the limitations of your study and my supervisor wisely told me to explain any that were blindingly obvious but not to discuss any of the more minor ones unless compelled to by the examiner. I guess it was bl**dy obvious that he wasn't doing very well but his statement that he 'hoped to do better' did not fill me with confidence!

A gentle Saturday

Yesterday I went on my first mountain bike ride for many months. It was a glorious day; sunny and warm but not too hot. We cycled through one of my favourite views on the North Downs where in the middle of a field, seemingly in the middle of nowhere there is a bandstand with wonderful views to the south. (Actually, I don't think it is a bandstand; more like an observatory) I managed to stop this time and get some photos. I'd forgotten how nice it is to get outdoors and away from cars and traffic.

I've since discovered that this view is Colley hill near Reigate and the 'bandstand' is actually a folly (called Inglis folly). It also has a really impressive ceiling!

To bissou or not to bissou

This refers to the French custom of greeting everyone with a peck on the cheek. Well, both cheeks to be precise. I was under the illusion that absolutely everyone bissoued as soon as they met and although it is something that doesn't sit so well with my Anglo Saxon upbringing I was prepared to indulge for the sake of entente cordiale. However, I noticed that this cheek kissing is not indulged by all and there is in fact a strict protocol as to who and when. As far as I can tell, never biss on a first meeting unless absolutely everyone else is bissing; never biss with anyone older or more senior that you until they biss you first (up until then the handshake is perfectly acceptable), never biss in any kind of business meeting. Biss with friends, people your own age, people who biss with you first and all the English living there who seem to think that now they are living in France they can biss absolutely everyone! I never have got used to it as way of greeting!

Biss Biss

Smelling the panic

My brother works in the City for an investment bank. He has survived in the city for 20 years so I figure he must be doing some things right. Things are hard at the moment although he predicted this at Easter when he said he walked into to work and it smelt different with an air of uncertainty around. He explained how the whole economy was based on faith and belief. A faith that things are what they claim to be and a belief that a £10 note is actually worth £10 and not a just a piece of paper. What seems to be happening now is a lack of faith (and yet still a few people willing to speculate and put other people's livelihoods at risk). I find the whole thing a mixture of reassuring (at the thought that in fact the city is run on basic human instinct) and for exactly the same reason deeply worrying. It makes me think that the correct training for working in the city should include philosophy and emotional intelligence and not just economics!

My knickers

Over lunch my colleagues were laughing about the fact that there had been a pair of knickers on the floor outside someone's office. No one could really work out what to do about them. No one wanted to pick them up and no one came forth to claim them! Eventually someone picked them up using a tissue and put them in an envelope to put in the lost property.

"They were turquoise Lovely. They would have gone quite well with your trousers!"

I thought carefully as I had actually made a special effort that day to put on some matching knickers but I did still have them on! I had also worn matching knickers the previous day but I had cycled home and gone to my French class that night in the knickers and put a clean pair on this morning. Still, the description of these knickers was beginning to sound quite familiar so I thought I'd better go and check and sure enough, they were mine! But how the hell did they get to be on the floor outside my colleagues office?! The only explanation I can come up with is that when I picked up my cycle clothes off the floor this morning (as I cycled to work) somehow they got stuck to a bit of Velcro and were attached to me on the way in, falling off finally as I walked down the corridor. Now as if this wasn't embarrassing enough this morning I had driven my car to the garage, booked it in, chatted to the mechanic, got out my bike, cycled to work..all with a pair of turquoise knickers hanging off some part of my body!

Well...it made us all laugh but I don't know how I will cope when I have to go and pick up my car (which incidentally failed its MOT and is going to cost £600 to put right!)

PS: I wonder how many sad bastards will find this post when searching google for lovely knickers!

My heart is changing

When we were in France we were talking with Hazel and Peter on one of our many visits and I was saying how, although I was sure about my decision to give up my job and live in France, the process of doing it from both the physical and the emotional point of view, was quite difficult. I am fed up with my current job but I still have a belief in the career that I have done for 30 years and unlike Ian, who contracts and has no great emotional attachment to his work, I can not say exactly the same. Hazel understood this and offered these words..

"one day you will just know that your heart has changed and you know where you want to be and then it will be more difficult to stay than to go"

I think I am beginning to understand what she meant. Getting back to work this time has been excruciating. Even tales of health and safety man can not lighten my mood enough or enable me to take my current job back into my heart in the way it deserves. I know that this will change to some degree as I get more into it but each time I go away and more aspects of the life in France become a reality my life back here seems more and more difficult. So I think Hazel is right and in the end I will just have to go physically so that my physical body can be in the same place as my spiritual one!

Butterfly day

Today there were butterflies everywhere.. I think they were cabbage whites; probably emanating from the infestation of green caterpillars that devoured all my nasturtiums just before I went on holiday. Aware that butterflies are under threat I let them munch away and was rewarded by seeing them everywhere but particularly on the buddlejas! They say that bees are in trouble this year as well although again, on the buddlejas there is no shortage!

Cats...!

Norma the cat is now suffering from age-related hearing impairment. In her youth she could hear the sound of a tin opener from 100metres and would come running before the lid was off the can. Now even when I call to remind her that it is dinner time she doesn't hear and I have to go up to her, tap her and show her the food before her youthful excitement takes over and she runs to the kitchen, (or at least attempts a run!)

Mandi on the other had has a new game called 'pat the window blind'. He jumps up onto the window sill and pats at the venetian blind so that it makes a noise. This and the 'tap the lever on the office chair' game keeps him occupied for hours.

The llama farmer

Life is full of strange co-incidences. Our new students started this week. As our course in post-graduate the vast majority have done lots of exiting things before they decide to be an occupational therapist (well, I'm doing it the other way round and doing my exiting things later). Before joining us one of our students worked with llamas on a farm for a couple of years in Cornwall and knows a fair bit about how to handle them. I will be offering her extra tuition!

New toy

Well, my new Eeeeee PC has arrived which hopefully should guarantee blogging from anywhere in the world where I can access a wireless network or internet connection. It really is quite a good deal for under £300, with its own built in webcam, windows and a battery that is supposed to last for 6 hours..and it fits into a large handbag! So, one less excuse for not blogging! I am using it to write this!

Life on the border

Our return to the UK via Euro tunnel was not quite so smooth as the outward journey as a busy bank holiday weekend meant extra security and longer queues. We waited patiently, and as we were in a van we knew we would be stopped. We pulled up to the booth and a friendly chap said

"UK border agency..at least that's what we are this week..I think.. can I ask you what you have in your van"

I had sympathy. When I worked in the Health Service I did the same job, in the same place for 10 years but the headings on our notepaper changed six times!

More French

I have found a new French class and started last night. Peter is a native French speaker and teacher and lives locally. He runs classes in local community halls and centres at a variety of levels that don't follow any national curriculum or lead to an exam. The great advantage of that is that I don't have to spend a year learning how to talk about ipods, pop music and going to the disco (as covered by most A level texts) and I don't have to learn marketing French as taught by the universities! I was surprised to see that there were 12 of us in class and all but 3 had been coming for a number of years. The other surprise was that the class consisted entirely of femmes d'un certain âge (The polite way of saying middle aged women in French!). The group seemed nice, Peter was enthusiastic and a good teacher and the class was enjoyable so lets hope it works!

The studio and the commander

I have mentioned before that Hazel and Peter are musicians. Peter is also a record producer and as he informed us last time we were there

"you don't need a great big orchestra and a recording studio to make music now, its all done on a computer"

With that in mind his plan was to build a small studio room in his house and continue his recording work in France. Well, the state of the housing market in the UK put paid to that and has put their extension on hold, so Peter decided to erect a temporary studio where the garden shed was. When we arrived building was at a frantic pace as some musicians were expected the following week and the 'studio' (still looking very like a garden shed) had no roof or soundproofing. Still, where there is a will there is a way and over the next few days the 'studio' was soundproofed with an old mattress and some polystyrene trays from Herman's herbs, the electrics were connected and we arrived while Peter was trying it out with another neighbour we call 'the commander'. The commander runs some nearby gites and in his previous life held a very important and responsible position in the transport industry (something that you are made aware of early on in your acquaintance). The commander also likes singing and I must admit I had imagined him doing some light classical songs, so I was a little taken aback to hear his renditions of John Denver and the like emanating from the 'studio'. (The trouble with a studio is that although the singer hears the backing track those outside don't, so what you hear is the bare vocal with all its imperfections!) Anyway, it seemed to work, apart from the fact that the studio had no air conditioning (and it was 36 degrees at this point) and still no roof, and you couldn't run the pump for the swimming pool at the same time as the recording equipment (so as it was like a sauna you could not stand more than 5 minutes in there at a time). After his 'session' the commander had a beer and lamented about the fact that his 16 year old son couldn't communicate with him any more.

The following day we were planting our trees on the land when Peter and the commander turned up in their cars, each containing some young lads, who were obviously musicians by their indie and underfed look. (In fact, they looked just like most of the students on the arts courses at work!) The lads were pleasant and polite, and looked a little bemused (but then they had spent an evening with the commander after driving 10 hours from Calais). I imagine they were struggling to cope with the reality of the situation! They were promised a recording studio in France, with its own pool and what they got was a shed with no air conditioning, and the company of a John Denver impersonator. I bet it was never like that for Sting!

Night time calm

While on holiday we called in several times to see our near neighbours Peter and Hazel, who have now been living there on and off for 18 months. You couldn't really ask for more pleasant neighbours. They are kind, warm, friendly and their house seems to always be open. One of my nicest memories of our two weeks there was a warm evening where we popped in to see Hazel after we had been working on the land. (Peter was back working in the UK for a few days). We sat outside chatting and after a while we saw Herman's shape emerging from his land and wandering up the path that he had cut to Hazel and Peter's house. (Now we know why he was cutting back the hedges!). We had some tea and some cake, chatted about Madame Delgrano and the local gossip and then we had a glass of wine. Hazel offered us some dinner, just noodles and vegetables but it tasted delicious, and we sat talking some more and watched the moon rise up over the land. We had never been out there at night before and it was so lovely, calm and peaceful except for the sound of the crickets. After a while the peace was shattered when the cat appeared with a large green lizard hanging out of its mouth! We removed the lizard and hopefully it lived to see another day. The cat was cross for a while but soon recovered. We sat there for a bit longer and then Herman left to go and water his herbs! We watched his figure disappearing off into the dark of the field.

Time to go

While away I managed to cut big branches off a tree with a small pruning saw (for 2 hours), cycle for 3 hours at a time, lug Ian's tools back and forth around the land in 30 degrees Celsius, sleep on a bed like a bouncy castle, when I was sitting, sit in uncomfortable campsite chairs; and in three weeks I was not particularly bothered by my stiff hands and joints and muscles.

Why is it then that after being home a week, back at work for 4 days where I spend the majority of time seated at a desk that the joints of my feet, ankles, fingers and wrists are so sore that I struggle to get out of my nice comfortable bed in the morning and I can hardly pick up my tea cup? There is a message there somewhere and it isn't too difficult to work out!

France holds some surprises!

One day on holiday we cycled out to Sigoules, a nearby village/town. As we were entering the town I had to do a 'double take' as walking towards me up the road was a group of Buddhist monks and nuns. It really wasn't what I was expecting to see in the middle of rural France! We ended up having lunch in a little cafe in the town (not as lovely as it sounds as the only place we could find was opposite the petrol station in a little arcade). Our fellow diners included two men who were obviously studying something, a couple of younger men on holiday who paid the bill with the French equivalent of luncheon vouchers that are given to the lower paid to help them pay for their holidays and an English group, dressed very smartly, that were waiting for the Mairie to open as two of them were getting married! As we left I asked the chef/owner about the monks. He told me that there is a community in Thenac; a neighbouring village.

I relayed my story a few days later to Herman, who claims he is a Buddhist.
'Yes, there is a community nearby..but they aren't proper Buddhists. They're a bunch from Vietnam. I've been there once.'

I left it at that but on return looked them up and found that there are from a community called the plum village and are pretty much our neighbours, owning several plots of land nearby. I mentioned this to a colleague at work who is a Buddhist and teacher of mindfulness meditation. Far from being a bunch of improper Buddhists it seems that they are a pretty influential and important group!

I like the quote on their home page:
If your cup is small, a little bit of salt will make the water salty. If your heart is small, then a little bit of pain can make you suffer. Your heart must be large.
Thay Nhat Hanh

Back to earth

I heard yesterday that one of our former students who graduated about two years ago took her own life over the summer. She was young and bright and struggled with many things but fought hard and finished the course. In the end she decided that she could not stand the pain anymore.

The ghost machine

Each time we went to land we passed a field with this machine in it. It looked like an abandoned piece of junk from a distance but every time we passed the field I swear it had moved from one side to the other and yet we never saw anyone near it. I decided that rather than a piece of agricultural equipment it was really a ghost machine and once it got dark it moved itself up and down the field in the moonlight. I later decided that it was probably a space probe and moved around to get better communication with the mother ship.

Ian had a much more practical explanation and said it was a thresher cutting strips of hay for animal feed. I like my explanation better!

Ian is quite keen on agricultural equipment and we could not go past a tractor shop without a stop while he had a 30 minute conversation with the owner about the price of tractors and toppers. I used it as an excuse to sit in the van and sleep! I did notice however that he was not the only man looking lustfully at large pieces of equipment!

The village fete

While we were in the tourist information office in Miramont we picked up a leaflet advertising a summer fair at a nearby vineyard. We were looking for something to do the following day and so decided to cycle out to it. The leaflet was in French and English but I must admit the whole thing did have somewhat of an English feel to it. The entrance fee went to support a charity and stalls selling local produce were promised.

The following day was warm so we set off on the bikes in the morning and got to the vineyard at about 2.00pm. Things were just beginning to take off.. We started with a long conversation with the man selling tickets. He had been a keen cyclist and had organised bike races and events in his home town in Lancashire for most of his life. He had also driven the press car for the Tour de France and had once picked up some cyclists from the airport only to realise he had 5 Tour de France winners in the back of his car! After a pleasurable conversation we parted with our 4 Euros and went in. The farmyard was set out with various stalls with arts and crafts, second hand products, books, paintings, tombola, 'fish the grapes out of the bucket' game, and a food and drinks stall selling quiches, salads, ice cream etc. We got a plate of salad and sat at the tables set out in between the vines to eat (and overheard the resident English contingent discussing how busy they were what with the line dancing classes and art class there was just no time for them to go to their French lessons!). After eating we wandered round the stalls. There was a young English chap there who had set up one of the first free-range pig farms in the Dordogne, raising English pigs and selling English sausages made to a recipe he got from the Heston Blumenthal book (Two shelias take note!). He had a whole pig roasting on the spit for an evening hog roast and was selling sausages and home made pork pies and had already been written about in the French Press, as the English farmer showing the French how to develop the free-range market! Unfortunately as we had our bikes with us we couldn't really try the wine but were offered a proper tour on another day. We cycled off with thoughts of strawberries and cream and Morris dancers floating around our heads!

The following day it was raining and I wanted to buy some wine so we decided to take up the offer of a tour and drove over in the van! I expected a half hour tour and a quick tasting, but no.. we got the full 2 hour tour and explanation of the history of the vineyard (bought by an enthusiastic English IT consultant who invested in setting up his own wine making shop and was now forced to work back in the UK to pay for the investment). The vineyard was going organic and the enthusiasm and commitment from everyone was apparent in every detail. The cuves were spotlessly clean and our guide (the owners father, a former chemist) knew exactly what was in each barrel and at what stage it was at. We then got to taste all the wines. I am no expert but I have to say that they really were well worth what they were selling them for. They are not filtered, use no chemicals in the processing and are made with love and enthusiasm from an Englishman the in the wine growing centre of Duras! I bought quite a bit and I must say I can recommend them as they are available via their online store at not much more than we paid for them in France.

You can find out about them here!

Madame Delgrano

Madame Delgrano is one of the few near neighbours that I hadn't met and as her house is almost directly opposite ours we went to say hello. We took her by surprise as she had been eating a late lunch after going to the Assumption Day mass in the town. She had unbuttoned her skirt to make way for the lunch and was just about to make herself a petit cafe as we arrived. She did not let her state of undress stop her however, and invited us to join her, quickly buttoning up her skirt as she did so.

She was probably around 70 years old; dressed unlike any of the the local women in a Hermes shirt, denim skirt, Dolce and Gabbana sunglasses and a pair of dainty stiletto sandals (left by the door). Like all the French neighbours she spent a few minutes on the social niceties before launching into the local gossip. Her topic of the day was Herman, or more pertinently his sheep, which once again had escaped and munched their way through her herb garden. She was vitriolic in her attack, referring to him only by his last name, calling him a cretin, saying that he was more stupid than his sheep and calling him a con which Ian explained as the French equivalent to d*ckhead! I was struggling to keep up with the French at this point as the speed of her attack was increasing and becoming more and more frenzied. I didn't get every word but her next sentence went something like
"well if he thinks he can f*ck with me he's got another thing coming!" (Ian described her of a good example of a French woman who thinks that she is classy enough to swear!)

We left on pleasant terms and made a mental note to make sure that the llama fencing is extra-secure!

We heard from Herman the following day. He had received a visit from the ministry of agriculture asking him to prove that his sheep were tagged and vaccinated and also one from the Gendarme, checking out a complaint that he was working on the black. He suspected that the complainant was Madame Delgrano! Turns out she was also a little cross with him for standing against her in the local election.

This is not a very clear photo but when we were there last I was so fascinated by Madame Delgrano's washing line and the neat row of black thermal vests and long johns that I tried to take a photo!

Sporting glory!

Today Ian did his first triathlon. As you can see from the picture it was wet! The swim was hard and he swallowed several mouthfuls of water but managed to get to the end and seemed okay on the bike and run. He struggled to walk back to the van and had to drive back to London early to avoid falling asleep on the chair! I expect by now he is fast asleep in bed!

Progress report

Well the house has not really progressed above the foundations which did not surprise me. Ian was a little disappointed; especially when the builder said that he could not continue with the build until the 20th September but I guess these are the realities of building a house and at least we have something done. The promise is that walls, roof and windows will be done by the end of October but I will not be holding my breath (Ian is more optimistic!). We still got a lot done with regard to arranging the electricity, arranging someone to mark out the land, cutting and clearing the entrance and planting a few trees out the front. (See our line of carefully staked trees below)

After work we clambered on to the foundations and had lunch in the 'dining room' and an afternoon drink on the terrace!

Campsite man

I feel I should say a little more about campsite man (Pierre-Henri). We first met him last year when we stayed on the campsite for two weeks. He got on well with Ian because they are around the same age and both had had financial problems related to ex-wives. Last year Ian and him spent a lot of time moaning about women and money! Campsite man 'rents' the campsite from the commune (local council) for a nominal amount and maintains and runs the campsite. He is pretty much on his own which means that he is on site 24 hours a day 7 days a week from April until October. Last year he lived in his tent but this year he has upgraded his accommodation to a wooden garden shed the size of a small garage. Outside the garage doors he has created a small garden where he grows a few tomato plants and flowers and sits on his garden chairs to enjoy his morning coffee!

We dropped by to say hello to him earlier in the year, something he seemed to appreciate, and he welcomed us back this summer, when we got to know him a little better. As well as an ex-wife he has two ex-restaurants and a two houses in addition to his garage. One is lived in by his ex and one by his current girlfriend (although I would imagine that over the summer he gets little opportunity to further that relationship as he is surrounded by campers). He has just been given the permanent custody of an ancient camper-van whose ageing owner has finally decided to part with it (as he is no longer capable of driving it back to Germany). Campsite man will live in it from now on and so is trying to sell is garden shed!

Campsite man is essentially very French but, like most French people in the area gets on well with the English immigrants, even though he likes to tease them about their dreadful food and the fact that they (and the migrant grape pickers) are the only ones brave enough to stay in the campsite after September! He likes his coffee, his wine, and is quite knowledgeable about planting and the seasons. We learnt two things from him. Firstly, if you hear the frogs croaking after 10.00pm then it will rain overnight (this was certainly true) and secondly that anything planted on a saints day in October (I can't remember what one it was but it was around the 25th!) will take root and grow. We are hoping that there is some flexibility here as we planted some tree saplings while we were there and we are hoping that they manage to survive!

Tournesol

or.. in English, sunflower. When I have been to France before in August the sunflowers have been past their best and have just looked like fields of sad, black heads pointing over towards the ground. The poor summer did bring some advantages however and this time the sunflowers were in full flower. It has always been my favourite image of France in the summer. This picture was taken from near our neighbours gites (on one of the days when the sun shone!)

French Cuisine

We are now beginning to return to a more 'normal' and non-French diet! I know French food is meant to be amongst the finest in the world but whenever we are there we are always struck by the lack of fibre and the increase in protein leading to a seriously bunged up state! This must be a common condition in France evidenced by the size of their toilet rolls, which for me would only last a day but seem to cope with the average French bottom for a week! Breakfast of croissants, lunch of steak and chips and cheese or ham for supper (accompanied by large chunks of white bread and salads full of hard boiled eggs) does nothing for the alimentary system and as if to prove the point the French have amongst the highest incidence of colon cancer in Europe. Mind you, as if to compensate they have a admirable selection of yogurts with bifidus actif, guaranteed to improve alimentary transit in 15 days!

Campsite man Pierre-Henri told us that he ran two restaurants before deciding to run the campsite. His mash potatoes and vegetables were all bought from the frozen food man and boiled in the bag!

Back to blogging at last!

Got back today about two hours ago! Have missed blogging and feel humbled that I could not get it to work from the campsite even though campsite man (Pierre-Henri) let us log on to his wireless network from our PDAs. Problem.. no cookie (whatever one of those is if it isn't a hard baked thing covered in chocolate) to let me get to the sign in page and I shamefully did not write down the details on how to blog by email! So I am feeling very frustrated as every time something interesting happened I thought.. I must write about that on my blog..but I couldn't! I did make some notes and I hope to make up for it over the next few days.

Next purchase.. a small laptop that works with windows and has bluetooth! (I have just been told that I also need 'wireless').

French ladies who don't get their hair wet

As the rain decided to continue unabated we found the local municipal swimming pool. It is open from 10.00 a.m. until 8.00 p.m. and the best time to swim is between 12.00 and 2.00, when any self-respecting French person is at lunch. The pool was clean, relatively modern and the swimming pool was deep, probably 6 foot at the shallow end and 10 foot at the deep end, so hence it was only possible to swim in it! There were a few ladies in there over retirement age but they put our ladies that don't get their hair wet to shame! Two proceeded to do 25 metre lengths treading water (no easy task!) and one made Ian and I look like we were learning to swim, with her expert tumble turns. She was still in there when we got out! The lifeguards were also unlike any I have seen in England. The man was about 60 years old with a long grey beard and hair and the woman was probably around my age and did not have the build of a swimmer! They spent the time sitting between the children's pool and the main pool, passing the occasional glance in the direction of the water!

When we returned the rain had stopped a little so we decided to take the dogs for a walk. We got half way round the walk when the heavens opened, so I am sitting here in slightly damp clothing, waiting to dry out. (Ian is trying to get his 30 year old tractor started!)

Il pleut comme une vache qui pisse

....or roughly translated it is raining like a urinating cow, which aptly describes the weather here! It started the day we arrived and looks like it will be with us for at least a week. Driving further south tomorrow is unlikely to make much difference as the low pressure seems to be affecting the whole of France! The dogs are depressed as they don't get much of a walk in this weather. Every time I come to France it rains so I am beginning to wonder whether the planned move will result in a sudden change to the French climate, making it worse than in England.

Tomorrow we are off to the land and blogging will be restricted by my ability to find somewhere to charge my PDA and the availability of a wireless network.

Flying dogs

This morning we have been relaxing and hiding from the rain! We have brought the bad weather with us and rain has set in, but it is an excuse for a rest and we both need it! We have also been playing with Zoom and Appy; Roger's collies!

Chocks away!

Yesterday was the first day of our holiday! Three weeks of no work; at least not the sort of work that makes up the regular weekly routine! The plan is a few days with Ian's friend Roger who lives in the Yonne and then to head down to the land for a mixture of work and socialising (and hopefully some cycling). Blogging is not a problem here in the Yonne as Roger has laptops, computers and network connections in every room in the house. The problem is more navigating your way around the system that he has customised to protect his system from all know invaders!

The holiday started with a drive through Sussex and Kent and a visit to a little cafe in the White Cliffs of Dover literally on the cliffs with a great view over the Channel. We went there once before about three years ago and weren't sure whether we would be able to find it again, but our memories did not fail us this time and we found it at the first attempt! Unlike our last visit however, it was pretty windy up on the cliff top and we had to hold on to the toast that came with our all day breakfast to prevent it from blowing away. I also had the added problem of my hair blowing around my face, usually coinciding with my attempt to take a mouthful of food; thus I ended the meal with a layer of tomato ketchup and fried egg on my hair! Never the less, it was a nice start to the holiday as I think the view has got to be one of the best in the South and beats the Eurotunnel cafes hands down!

After lunch we set of for Eurotunnel. The was my first time and I must say it beats the ferry any day. The whole thing was quick, smooth and easy (and they let us on a crossing 40 minutes before the one that we had booked on). We arrived in France at about 6.00pm and started the 5 hour drive in the old white van. I drove the first few hours and then Ian took over south of Reims for the last bit. As it got dark the light made the cut fields look spectacular and numerous insects committed suicide on the windscreen. However, the most exiting thing that happened occurred when we got off the motorway and on to the windy roads through the woods and fields. By this time it was totally dark and by the side of the road we caught sight of a large animal. We initially thought it was a deer but then realised it was wild boar! We were quite exited as I had never seen one before and were gleefully discussing the dangers to white van of hitting a boar head on when Ian screeched the brakes. Slowly moving away from the side of the road was mummy boar and 4 baby boars! Later we saw a deer by the side of the road, seemingly unbothered by the cars!

We arrived at midnight and slept well!

Ooops

Two days before we leave for France Herman (the hermit neighbour) telephoned to Ian to say that while he was cutting back some bushes on the land (why?) he cut through the cable that the builder had rigged up to the mains electric supply! So..now we have no electricity so just as well we weren't planning to camp there.. Going on holiday is stressful!

Mutant buddleja

I know that buddleja grows easily in most places but here in the chalky soil of the downs it seems to excel. Every house has one and the bushes get to 6 foot tall within a year or two if not cut back. They also grow in the most unusual colours. As well as the standard lilac they come in black, dark mauve and white. No one can recall planting them.

Puss Puss

This is a picture of my neighbour's cat. He is called puss puss and is mostly very friendly although you wouldn't think so looking at him here. He is sitting on top of the empty rabbit hutch looking very contented!

On using 'foreign words'

I have just been reading a most amusing section in the 1950s guide to modern manners about using and pronouncing 'foreign words'.

This refers to what I can only assume was 'de rigueur' at the time, substituting French phrases into everyday English. These are referred to in the text as 'foreign' words but in fact all those cited are French!

"Today no one thinks any less of a person who employs no foreign expressions at all, and if she uses a foreign one where an English one is just a explicit, she is liable to be thought a trifle affected...."

and

"Even more disconcerting are the French words you may meet in conversation, especially since a good many of these have acquired a slang meaning which often has little in common with the dictionary one"

What is then interesting is that the list of 'foreign' (i.e. French) phrases that they give as examples are so much part of everyday language now that I would imagine that few people would identify them as 'foreign' at all!

(Such as ambiance, banal, bouquet, buffet, clique, corsage, de luxe, elite, entourage, finesse, foyer, gaffe, penchant...)

Pre holiday blues

I am currently in that horrible period prior to going on holiday! I have three weeks off starting on Friday. On Saturday Ian has invited all his friends from work to a barbecue at my place for which I am apparently organising the catering (as well as cleaning the house and getting everything sorted so that we can leave on Saturday!) We are going via Euro tunnel this time as we have booked a 'season ticket'; meaning we get 10 crossings for £300. We are driving down to Ian's friend in the Morvan for two days and then going down to the land. I am also preparing lots of 'presents' to take to the neighbours to keep them sweet. Whiskey for the farmer, and for a couple of the English neighbours, home made cake, jam, and English biscuits for the couple who run the nearby gites and tell us they miss them. On top of that I am trying to finish off at work and it seems that everything needs to be done before I go away! After yet another dreadful meeting today I told my close colleagues that the length of official notice that I give will be dependent on how those in power behave! Now I have unofficially been telling them of my plans for a year now but it does not seem to have impacted on future planning in any way. I am required to give 3 months official notice although as far as I am aware this is not legally binding and as I will not need a reference then technically I could decide just not to come back...

Lovely is not the only one having a joke at work

Well, I must admit I was well and truly wound up today by a health and safety joke. We all received this email:



Dear All,
I am sorry to ask you to consider risk assessment at such a busy time of year. However I would be grateful if you could cast an eye over the enclosed risk assessment which includes the areas of manual handling and infection control. Should you require more information on either the manual handling involved or infection control please do not hesitate to contact me.
Many thanks for your kind assistance
Best wishes Miranda

I must admit I felt a little peed off and didn't look at it immediately. However, temptation got the better of me and I looked at it at this afternoon! I was straight away on the phone to colleagues saying "can you believe this...." and then when I had nearly been incontinent with laughter I saw the fist line and realised it was a joke! I was had!

School / Department: Health Date of assessment:July 31st 2008
Activity / area: Movement of Mugs to the dishwasher\kitchen

Next review date:July 31st 2009 Assessed by:Miranda Cupp RA Ref No:1/J/O/K/E

What are the hazards?

1. Movement of Mug to dishwasher.
2. Infection due to non washing or incomplete washing of mug. Example 6 unwashed mugs removed from the “clean” cupboard on one occasion.
   

Who might be harmed and how?

1. The user of the Mug
2. Any innocent subsequent user of the Mug particularly those with poor immune systems

What controls do you already have in place?

1. and 2. The Provision of a dishwasher

Risk (H/M/L)

1. Very Low
2. Very high
   

What further action is necessary to reduce the risk to Low?

1. a.Weight training to increase the Power and endurance of the dominant upper limb of the mug user. b. mobility exercises for the joints of the dominant upper limb for the user of the mug.
2. Movement of the mug from the sink/drainer to the dishwasher (See advice above)

Action by whom?

1. and 2. The user of the Mug

Action by when?

1. and 2 Immediately

This of refers to the bad habits in the staff kitchen of leaving dirty mugs on the drainer rather than putting them into the dishwasher! As a post script, Miranda got a lot of replies but the best one was sent around for us all to see and is duly reported below!

From: Carlton Ruth Sent: 01 August 2008 08:53 To: Cupp Miranda RE: Risk assessment

Thank you Miranda for a most comprehensive report which highlights some very interesting concepts surrounding one of our most important tasks.

I feel that the issues raised should be formally discussed at the appropriate committee meeting. I therefore humbly propose that we form a sub group immediately to consider the issues you have raised and report our findings to the relevant committee who can then forward potential solutions to the relevant school sub group who in turn may formulate a plan which can be taken to the divisional board for amending before it can be produced for the school management team in readiness to present to the relevant University management group. I envisage that we should have an answer for you in approximately 18 months to 2 years depending on the dates when the groups meet and how many are in each group who like the sound of their own voice.
I hope this time scale meets with your approval.
Ruth

Mad Cakes

I have decided to start a new label called 'mad cakes'. I quite enjoy making cakes, especially for friends and family and special occasions. Unfortunately I have never been that good at getting them right. They are always a bit wonky, with the decoration being a bit odd and mad and, in essence they are rather eccentric. I have just made one for my mother for her birthday. Here is a picture of it.

I know; it is mad but I like it. In my case I don't think I will get better with practice!

Lovelys' adventure 2

Work on the grand design has had to be temporarily suspended and the site is currently sealed and secured. Someone cut through a pipe and found asbestos so now they must await an inspection from specialist asbestos removers! C'est la vie!

Summer in Brighton

Today I was in Brighton. Sometimes I find Brighton a bit much and I can't wait to get home but today it was nice. It was warm and sunny but not too hot, there were people walking around taking photos, sitting in the park, sitting outside cafes and generally looking happy. I was at the student graduation in The Dome and as I left there were some Jazz musicians playing just outside. They were trying to promote their show that evening (and I'm sure from what I heard they will be sold out!). It was a good day!

Dogs

As well as llamas, when we eventually get to France Ian and I would like a couple of dogs. I have wanted dogs for ages but my lifestyle has never made it possible. We have been debating many options, from rescue dogs to breeding West Highland Terriers, Miniature Schnauzers, Jack Russells (Ian's favourite not mine) and Collies (my favourite). I was initially put off the idea of acquiring a rescue dog through a French rescue agency on the grounds that we would probably not have much idea of what we were getting and I suspect that the agencies in the UK would not like to re-home a dog that was immediately going to be transported to France (to people that are not experienced dog owners). Anyway, while looking for something else I came across details of an organisation in the Dordogne (run by English people!) who rescue dogs from the French rescue organisations. They have some rather cute looking dogs so it looks like at the moment the rescue dogs are back on!

Thunder

We have just had a thunderstorm that nearly took out all the lights and caused me to need to re-boot my net-gear box. This is something I can now do myself (with occasional prompting from Ian) and it seems to fix most problems. The first time I had difficulties getting my Internet connection to work I made the mistake of calling the SKY helpless desk. 10 minutes later, £5.00 poorer the customer support person told me that the problem was nothing to do with them and was caused by Microsoft and I should contact them! (How does anyone contact Microsoft!). I tried to argue that if there was some problem with their system and Microsoft then surely they should sort it out as it would affect a lot of people. I asked them to explain the nature of the problem to me. At this point I got the robotic reply "it is a problem with Microsoft madam, you must contact them" in answer to all my queries! In frustration I hung up and called Ian who told me to unplug the box, leave it for 10 seconds, plug it back in and reboot the computer if necessary. It worked and my connection was restored!

The storm has not cleared the air and it is still humid and sultry.

Tour de France

So..the tour de France has finished for another year. Carlos Sastre won. It was the usual mix of good days, boring days, break-aways, sprint finishes, drama, seediness, excitement, good luck, bad luck, serious accidents, the predicable and the unpredictable. I will watch it again next year!

London to Mongolia car rally

The London to Mongolia car rally does not seem quite such a breeze after all! I watched a TV programme tonight where they reported that Mongolia had only 80km of tarmac! The roads looked worse than the things I mountain bike on!

Dangerous Dick

It has been a lovely warm weekend. On Saturday a friend of Ian's came down during the day and we went to the beach. I sat there for a while while he swam and she paddled! It was quite busy on the beach but pleasant! We then went to a cafe at the far end of the promenade to have some lunch. I decided to try and revive my roller-blading skills. I was pretty cr*p as I never have managed the art of stopping properly and getting back on the 'blades' is a bit like riding a bike again after a few years..the first 10 minutes are scary but after that you remember how it goes. After lunch Ian and his colleague walked back along a different route and I roller-bladed along the seafront. I had to laugh because I swear at the age of 50 someone tried to chat me up! I moved out of the way to allow someone else on roller blades to get by and he said 'don't worry, I can go either way.' I replied that unfortunately I was not so good, to which he said that he would show me how to do it on his return! At that, I sped up considerably, aiming to get to the pre-arranged rendez-vous point with Ian before that happened. He 'headed me off at the pass' however and gave me a free and quite helpful reminder on how to stop, turn, slow down etc! I thanked him and said goodbye, he said he came down there most days at 4.00 and that his name was 'dangerous Dick'. I then met up with Ian and while I was trying to get my boots off dangerous Dick skated past several times! I was secretly flattered although couldn't help wondering whether, if I hadn't seemed so cool, he would have been that interested! I was also quite amused by the incredulous looks I got from the over 55s at the sight of this obviously middle aged woman teetering along on her roller-blades!

PS: And in case you wondered Dangerous Dick was also the wrong side of 45.. or else he had aged badly! This is apparently how the middle-aged meet now!

Fur balls

Mandi has fur balls again! This is a regular occurrence but this time they seem to have got worse and I am currently picking up one a day. As he does not seem to be moulting that much I got a bit concerned and looked it up on the Internet. Amongst other causes I learnt that the
most important cause of fur-balls is over-grooming and in Mandi's case I'm sure this is explained by his neuroticism! This quote says it all!

"watch for the times that your cat seems to want to do something and is thwarted: they will often stop and perform a vigorous licking of their fur in mid-activity, this is obviously nothing to do with real grooming but may be an expression of frustration."

I'm afraid this is Mandi all over!

However I liked this explanation best from Catastrophes:

Furballs: A cat's point of view

We've talked a little bit about the psychological dangers of excessive licking, but there are practical considerations as well. Licking and furballs go paw in paw. Like the human phenomenon known as "a hangover," a furball is a warning signal of overindulgence for a cat. And also like our human counterparts, the medicine can be as bad as the sickness. Quite frankly, the cures for both are disgusting. Furball medicine is nasty, but at least it's not a raw egg floating in tomato juice in your bowl. The truth is that furballs bother the Higher Power more than they do us, particularly because they seem to strike mostly in the presence of fine furnishings. If you don't want to call attention to the problem, be smart and hack discreetly. If drawing attention is the real cause of your furballs, then there's work to be done.
Fur belongs on the outside, and I will keep it there by any means.

London to Mongolia car rally

Driving over to my brother's last Saturday we passed a convoy of strange looking cars heading down the Old Kent Road. On the side they had a banner saying London-Mongolia rally. The cars were a real mixture of vehicles, but most looked pretty old; there was a fair number of clapped out looking Ford Fiestas, Citroen 2CVs and even an old Austin All-aggro (I didn't think any of them had survived as they were amongst the most cr*p cars I have known!). I must admit at first I wasn't too interested in the whole thing but as the cars got more and more weird I took more note. (My favourite car had what looked like an old phone box strapped to the roof!). I read up on it when I got back and actually thought it looked like fun. Competitors can go from Hyde park to the capital of Mongolia any route they like. This may take them through Iran, Turkey, China, Uzbekistan, Russia and/or part of China!The cars must be no bigger than 1 litre and all teams must raise at least £1000 in sponsorship for the chosen charities, which help to support deprived children in Mongolia. On second thoughts it actually looks quite fun. You can read more about it here.

Stopping for a photo

One of the things that goes through my mind when I think about moving to France is that somehow I will miss all the beautiful English countryside and the changing seasons here in the South. That is why I like to put photos on the blog of things I have enjoyed looking at.

On the way back from Ian's I stopped off in Mayfield. I have driven past the town for about 2 years so I thought it was about time I stopped to see what it was like. On the whole I thought it was a nice Sussex village/town but didn't feel inclined to hang around. I did take this photo of the view from the car park, which struck me as 'typical' view of the English countryside.

Summer swimming

Ian's triathlon training continues and yesterday he decided that he wanted to go freshwater swimming, so he collected his wetsuit, I put my bike in the car and we headed off to Leybourne lake.








I think the geese were much more at home than him and I watched them for a bit before heading off around the lake on my bike. The nice weather had brought out the crowds and cycling around required concentration to avoid hitting anyone, however, I managed to find a quieter track and came across this swan family happily swimming in this little stream next to the sewage works! They were obviously used to being fed as they came over to see me as soon as I stopped to look!

After my modest exertion and Ian's more strenuous swim we sat and had bacon sandwiches from a little van that did a fantastic trade to all the divers. (The man explained that scuba diving makes you exceptionally hungry!)

The bathroom 2

As promised here are some pictures of the bath that my brother has literally unearthed while stripping out the old recording studio. We know the recording studio was there since the 1950s and the bath has probably been covered since just after the second world war. The bath takes up the whole room and originally had a fire at one end with taps all around the far wall. It wasn't particularly deep but I can just about imagine it, with the light coming through the giant glass ceiling lantern, steaming hot water, tropical plants everywhere...

They are going to try and see if they can incorporate it into the design and the renoovation but it requires a great deal of imagination and in places it is quite damaged. The worst that will happen is that it will be covered over again.

The apprentice

This time it was my brother and not me who observed this but I think it deserves a semi-public airing! He was on the underground and two London Underground employees got on and sat opposite him. One was a large, East End man who by all accounts had been working for LU for years. The other was a younger man from overseas who was definitely very much the apprentice. The conversation went something like this..

"so ..Sergei..'ave you worked out yet 'ow t' fiddle the system?"

Sergei (looking embarrassed) "no, not really"

" Well, this is 'ow you do it right.. you ave to sign off by telephone at 4 o'clock right? Well, there are three of you in a team yeh? So, simple.. two of you go off at lunchtime and at 4 the other bloke makes 3 phone calls! Easy"

"That Bob Crow.. e's bloody brilliant e is. E fights the management for every little thing e does. Brilliant..!"

I hope Sergei is smart enough to know who he should listen to!

Relief

My increased dose of tablets has finally started to work and for the first time in 2 months my hands don't hurt! Mixed feelings..glad it has worked but not glad that I will have to take tablets for ever!

On another note I found a fellow blogger today who also has mixed connective tissue disease and have added her blog to my blogroll.

Lunch

I was in town mid-day today and so decided to have some lunch in a cafe that is in a large haberdashery store. It is an old fashioned store and the only place around where you can buy knitting needles, wool, fabric, dressmaking patterns etc. Its the sort of place that tends to attract an older crowd and today was no exception. I did arrive in time to get a place to sit (just) but then proceeded to feel very guilty for taking up a seat when the elderly and infirm were queueing up! As my food arrived the lady behind me said
.."Oooo look, she's 'aving a jacket and chilli.. it looks quite nice..perhaps we should have had that."

As I quickly ate my lunch so as to free up a seat she continued talking about the food they had ordered

.."Well, I'm having a ham and pineapple toasted sandwich.. I mean it isn't something I would ever have thought of having so I have no idea what it will be like.. I'll just have to wait and see... Your having a cheebatter thing aren't you? Goats cheese and tomatoes? Well goodness knows what that'll be!

Someone then complained because the tables hadn't been cleared away, (even though the staff were running backwards and forwards trying really hard), the queues got longer and I hurriedly drank my coffee and left!

The bathroom

Ian is going over to my brother's place tomorrow to see if we can use any of the wood that they have stripped out from their building. In the process of stripping out one of the rooms they have uncovered the original hydropathic bath. What is currently the recording studio was a squash court and the anti-room with its big glass lantern in the ceiling was a big bath house. Given the history of the building (artists studios) I like to think of it as the prototype of the San Francisco bath houses! I will try and post a picture of it when we go over there next.

A typical day at the seaside

Today I had a day off. The plan was to spend it doing things in the area that I have not done for a while. A nice bike ride and a trip to the seafront, sitting in the sun, exploring the area etc. I was slightly less enthusiastic when I woke up as the promised heatwave had not materialised on the south coast and there was just one of those murky sea-hazes over everything. I spent the morning 'pottering' but by afternoon thought I had better venture out, as the sun appeared for a brief while. I soon realised why I don't go down to the seafront in the summer. Perry mortem tours had made a conference booking and were promenading en mass. I had never seen such an array of mobility equipment in my life (and my life has been spent prescribing it!). You had to have your wits about you to avoid being run down by a motorised chair or the dotto train! To escape the stress I sat down and ordered a coffee in one of the coffee bars on the seafront (run by a couple of surly but beautiful Latvians who were more interested in closing up as soon as possible.) After coffee I decided to take advantage of the toilet. I stood in the queue and listened to the shouts of a lady who really was 'locked in the lavatory'. I decided to wait! On the way home I stopped off in a park that is only 15 minutes walk away but I have never visited it. The Perry Mortem bowls afternoon was in full force. The 'whites' were truly brilliant, the lawn was the most vivid shade of green and immaculate, the roses were a brilliant shade of red. Concentration was evident on the faces of the players, the club room was lively, I overheard the end of a conversation between two players saying how tired they were. One was smoking a cigarette and the other was talking through an electronic voice box. A typical summer day in a seaside town!

Signs of ageing

I got a a letter the other day inviting me for my first mammogram. Now if Nessienora is reading this after her experience she will be encouraging me to go, and I will as I appreciate the value of free screening. Its just that I am not 50 until later on this year and somehow I was hoping I would have a gentle passage into the next decade and not have my age thrust into my face at the earliest opportunity!

They sent me an appointment for next week in the middle of Tuesday morning. Do they not think that people of 50 might be working and that it is quite difficult to arrange to have an hour or two out of the day with such short notice? The mobile screening unit is only in the area for two weeks and they had no other times on offer that I could make so I asked to re-arrange it for September.

"Well, we won't be in your area then..you'll have to travel"

"That's ok, its getting time off work that is more difficult. Do you do any evening sessions?"

"No, I'm sorry we don't. I'll cancel your appointment for you and you can phone us nearer the time."

I don't think they understand about forward planning!

A good victory

A 24 year old Italian called Riccardo Ricco won today's stage of the Tour de France. He put in what appeared to be a superhuman effort to speed past some of the best riders in the world going up a mountain. As Ian said "he went up that mountain faster that you would go down it". (This is a reference to my dislike of going fast downhill!). Ricco also won a stage on Thursday and when interviewed about the win he said that he had a brother who was killed in a motorbike accident and now he dedicates every success to him and his other brother, who is a footballer dedicates every goal. He said that he likes to think that he is there with him and enjoying his success. For me it sums up the motivation and determination that you need to succeed in the Tour. The other thing you need is a good team and Mark Cavendish certainly had that when they led him to within 100 metres of the finish line yesterday and he repaid them by out-sprinting everyone else to the line. He is only 23 and it is good to see such talent in the next generation. I only hope we don't learn later that it is drug fuelled.

17.07.08
I have to add a post-script here. Ricco has just been sent home after testing positive for EPO. I had my suspicions but am very disappointed. It does make me feel less inclined to watch it.

Teaching and learning conference

I am currently at a teaching and learning conference in a workshop on using blogs in assessment! Needless to say the topic has created much controversy about whether blogs are really suitable for higher level academic study. Someone has just accused blogs of being ephemeral and lightweight (and hence unsuitable for higher academic endeavour!). There was uproar but it didn't last long as it was time for coffee.

British cycling

I watched Cavendish win yesterday's stage of the Tour de France. He is currently the best sprinter in the world and the first British stage winner for 5 years. It was great to watch and he really deserved it after last year when he was well placed to win the second stage in Canterbury until a female spectator walked in front of him and knocked him off his bike. I don't know whether he would have won or not but the dream of a British stage win on home ground was ended there and then by a stupid and selfish act.

Cycling was also in the news yesterday after a cyclist on a mountain bike was fined £2000 for knocking over and killing a young girl who either stepped in front of him or refused to get out of his way. The story is quite complicated and it is hard to work out exactly what happened. It does sound like the man didn't make any attempt to stop when the teenagers were in the road and that can never be condoned; and I can also fully understand why the girls parents feel that the punishment was grossly inadequate. However, this story led the papers and press to publish a whole collection of anti-cyclist articles. There was quite a nice balance in the Times presenting what I thought was many sides of the argument. As a driver, cyclist and one time regular commuter on the bike I feel I have the right to add my bit!

1. Not all cyclists break the rules in the same way that not all motorists are mad psychopaths whose one aim is to knock off every bike rider they see.

2. In order to survive as a cycling commuter you have to believe the latter so that you can protect yourself against the one that is!

3. Sometimes it is safer for everyone if as a cyclist you bend a few rules. For example, it is safer to position yourself just ahead of cars at a junction so that they can see you and it is safer to be a little out from the side of the road for the same reason. It does make some car drivers annoyed but at least they see you.

4. Most cyclists are insured; either through their household insurance, car insurance or through membership of a cycling organisation.

5. It is quite possible to accidentally kill someone when you are riding a bike. Downhill the bike will go as fast as a car (something that often seems to infuriate some car drivers who feel like they should overtake no matter what).

6. The consequence of any scrape between me on a bike and a car will always be worse for me (so it is in my best interest not to get into one).

7. Cyclists do pay tax that adequately covers their use of the roads, either through income tax or through motor vehicle tax (most cyclists own cars as well).

8. Sometimes pedestrians just don't look out for bikes. When they see me (and I do not cycle on pavements unless it is legal for me to do so) they jump and say 'get a bell'. Well, I have tried a bell and it is not heard above the traffic! If it is, it also causes people to jump out of their skins and in their shock and then they usually walk in front of me! I have tried coughing loudly, squealing my breaks, saying politely 'excuse me please' or 'just behind you' and all of it produces a startled response.

9. Pedestrians sometimes think that if I cycle more slowly it will be safer. This is not necessarily true as at very slow speeds it is more difficult to control the direction of the bike.

10. It is very difficult to hand signal as you are going down hill and braking!

Graham the grasshopper

This little creature was on my car this morning when I left the swimming pool. He seemed to like it and didn't want to leave. I thought he would go when I drove to work but I was surprised to see him on the roof at 5.00pm. He stayed with me to the supermarket, hitching a ride on the bonnet, and he was still on the car this evening. He shows no sign of leaving and I can't really understand why he likes the car so much. I think he is a grasshopper and I have decided to call him Graham (although I am a bit worried that he may be a girl!)

Speed dating

Brief Encounters That Last (Research Networking/ "Speed Dating" Event)
Middle Street, Joan Bakewell Theatre24th July 2pm
Final places remaining - Deadline for applications - Friday 6th July 2008

This message (with the accompanying picture) was circulated at work recently. We have now moved on from the sandpit to the latest trend in management speak and that is 'speed dating'!

According to wikipedia

speed dating is a formalized matchmaking process or dating system whose purpose is to encourage people to meet a large number of new people

and it goes something like this:

Men and women are rotated to meet each other over a series of short "dates", usually lasting from 3 to 8 minutes depending on the organization running the event. At the end of each interval, the organizer rings a bell or clinks a glass to signal the participants to move on to the next date.

Based on this principal a special event has been organised to enable people from across the university to introduce themselves to each other and decide if they like each other enough to work togther. If it is anything like the real thing then I am very glad that I am busy doing something else on that day! I think the people in the research development unit have been watching too much Sex and the City!

What's in a name 2

One of the slightly irritating things about emails is the jingoistic signature lines that employers add at the end of every message sent from their server. One of my students works for a local NHS trust. On the bottom of all her emails she is forced to put this little line: Help us to be the best we can be ...A rather strange comment and does not fill me with confidence at the level of care I might expect! It is like the one we all had to use about 10 years ago Working towards equal opportunities which basically meant we can continue to employ you without offering you a full time contract, insist that you sign away your rights to redundancy although you must give us two months notice if you want to leave!

Also, when I used to get letters or emails from various parts of the NHS I could tell where they came from by the name of the Trust or organisation. Therefore, people working and providing a service in Enfield would work for Enfield Trust and if you worked in a hospital the chances are the location would be in the title. Now things are not so straightforward!
Try to work out where these are!
2gether NHS Foundation Trust (by far the most irritating)
5 Boroughs Partnership NHS Trust
Calderstones NHS Trust

The 5 Boroughs Trust is committed to helping staff acheive a work-life balance and spends money publishing a newsletter called the juggler where you can read about managing your stress and making a will (at a 10% discount). I hope the two events are not connected!

Hairy llamas

One of the places that we went through on our bike ride the other week was a rare breeds farm. They had the standard strange cows, sheep and pygmy goats, but also these.

They caused much confusion amongst the visitors. Were they sheep, goats, llamas? I think I now know enough about the camelids to say that these fine looking creatures are alpacas; in need of a good haircut! You can pick up a male alpaca in the UK for £250 although top quality breeding suri alpacas, the ones with the ringlets, go for £6000 and more! Might be tempted to have a couple in France to add interest!

(Thanks to Simon for the photos)

Tennis

I'm quite glad Nadal won the men's singles at Wimbledon this year but I'm afraid I just can't watch tennis. The atmosphere is so tense that I feel my blood pressure increasing by the second and as much as I can appreciate the fantastic match I just have to make myself busy doing other things during the rallies and call out to Ian all the time "who won that point?" I think it's that I can't bear to see the look of dejection on the face of the looser and the intense concentration and frustration as the points go too and fro.

Getting money for old rope

Over the past week I have been anxiously watching my first ever item for sale on Ebay! I have bought a few things from there in the past but this time I had something to sell. When I moved into my house the previous owner had left an old fireplace in the shed. She told me she had found it in a skip and decided to rescue it with the idea of restoring it or using it somewhere but had never got round to it. It had been in my garage for 5 years and I had never got round to doing anything with it either so decided to either try and sell it or give it away. I took a picture of it, set up an account, wrote a brief description and listed it for sale with no reserve as I just wanted to get rid of it! It was a pretty tatty looking original 1930s fireplace but it seemed to generate a lot of interest and I was delighted when it sold today for a good deal more than I had hoped! Now I truly have the bug and am desperately looking around for other items to sell! I want to get a digital camcorder and have seen a nice one for £400. I need to sell quite a lot of junk to get enough to buy that! Truth is, if I really wanted to buy it I have the money but I am quite enjoying the idea of 'earning' it!

The proper start of summer

I know summer is really here now as today was the first day of the Tour de France. I shall be in front of my television every night to watch the highlights. Ian and I still have a souvenir from last year; a road sign 'tidied up' from the side of the road somewhere in South London! We will find a nice place to put it in the house in France!