St Sylvestre
Thanks Susie. You've introduced me to a new time-wasting occupation. It's not something I should be doing, sometimes it isn't something I want to do, sometimes I find it compulsive because you just never know what the next click is going to bring you, do you?
I just love stumbling. It's great fun. Yesterday I stumbled for a couple of hours. I wonder if that was a particularly productive way to spend a Sunday afternoon but, hell, it's winter, it was mizzling down outside and I was keeping nice and warm and had a few laughs along the way.
I resolve NOT to stumble today.
Oh, go on then, just a quick look.....
... and then I really must start thinking about New Year's resolutions. Or maybe not.
Monday 31 December 2007
Sunday 30 December 2007
Call me! (Blondie, 1980)
St Roger
Happy Birthday to Stephen! (We won't give away your age!)
Our daughter gave us a nice present at Christmas, it's a new Skype telephone which means that if there is anyone else out there on Skype you can talk to us, and vice verse for free (don't ya just love that word?).
If you have a Skype telephone, please e-mail us to let us know your Skype address - we've set up an e-mail account just for this purpose so please, no spamming or phishing - we won't reply unless we know you (or want to know you!). The e-mail address just to let us know your Skype account is smithsenfrance@gmail.com .
If you don't already know about Skype, you can find details here. Basically you set up your account with them and connect a headset and microphone to your computer - or a special Skype telephone with a USB connection, and Bob's your Uncle (actually mine was Bill, not Bob, and Ernie and Dick too). You can call landlines from Skype too, and the calls are much cheaper than from a normal landline. By the way, I'm not on commission, just converted to a new way of staying in touch with the family.
I really must clear out my e-mails though. Not just those I have received but the accounts I have set up in the past and rarely use any more. There are the hotmail account, the Yahoo account, the AOL account that I set up when we had our internet connection with them, and the two Wanadoo accounts, French and English. I don't use half of these any more but, you just never know when an old friend might just get in touch for the first time in years and they only have your old e-mail account. It is just another facet of my hoarding problem. Books, magazines, old balls of wool (to make blankets and soft toys), fabric remnants (to make that patchwork quilt one of these years), not to mention buttons, lace, ribbons. I could go on.
But I won't.
This time.
Happy Birthday to Stephen! (We won't give away your age!)
Our daughter gave us a nice present at Christmas, it's a new Skype telephone which means that if there is anyone else out there on Skype you can talk to us, and vice verse for free (don't ya just love that word?).
If you have a Skype telephone, please e-mail us to let us know your Skype address - we've set up an e-mail account just for this purpose so please, no spamming or phishing - we won't reply unless we know you (or want to know you!). The e-mail address just to let us know your Skype account is smithsenfrance@gmail.com .
If you don't already know about Skype, you can find details here. Basically you set up your account with them and connect a headset and microphone to your computer - or a special Skype telephone with a USB connection, and Bob's your Uncle (actually mine was Bill, not Bob, and Ernie and Dick too). You can call landlines from Skype too, and the calls are much cheaper than from a normal landline. By the way, I'm not on commission, just converted to a new way of staying in touch with the family.
I really must clear out my e-mails though. Not just those I have received but the accounts I have set up in the past and rarely use any more. There are the hotmail account, the Yahoo account, the AOL account that I set up when we had our internet connection with them, and the two Wanadoo accounts, French and English. I don't use half of these any more but, you just never know when an old friend might just get in touch for the first time in years and they only have your old e-mail account. It is just another facet of my hoarding problem. Books, magazines, old balls of wool (to make blankets and soft toys), fabric remnants (to make that patchwork quilt one of these years), not to mention buttons, lace, ribbons. I could go on.
But I won't.
This time.
Saturday 29 December 2007
Arise, Sir Michael
St David
Today the New Year's Honours List has been published and it is to be Sir Michael Parkinson. Well done Parky. Saturday nights, however, will not be the same without him. I never did quite get used to him being on ITV, a channel I confess we rarely watch but on the few occasions we did catch him over there we were pleased to see that the format of his shows had remained the same as when they first started in 1971.
Of course everyone remembers that emu incident but I just loved the way he prompted people gently to tell their (obviously rehearsed) anecdotes. His own favourites were often sports personalities, Muhammad Ali, Geoffrey Boycott, George Best and the lovely David Beckham. His final show, the one before the one where he picked all his favourite moments was rather disappointing. Billy Connelly was his usual magic, outrageous self, but Dame Judi Dench was cut far too short and what, frankly, was Dame Edna Everidge doing there? It was a disappointing ending to his career. I look forward to seeing some of the earlier interviews being released on DVD later, I'm sure that must be in the pipeline. Perhaps he can resurrect interviews with David Niven, always a great laugh, the Princess Anne interview, John Lennon, Peter Sellars, the list would be endless.
I wonder if anyone can take his place as chat show king? Alan Titchmarsh does a good job - time for the BBC to jump in quick and snap up that idea I would have thought.
Congratulations also to Sir Ian McKellern, the lovely Leslie Phillips ('Hello!'), super Julie Walters and gorgeous Kylie Minogue. And one of the most deserved awards to Nicholas Kenyon the out-going administrator of the BBC Promenade Concerts for stirling work over the last 11 years and bringing a wider audience to the Proms.
I know some people think that this sort of thing is a waste of time, money, and space but I love that people can be recognised by their peers for their work whether it is in the world of entertainment or not.
Today the New Year's Honours List has been published and it is to be Sir Michael Parkinson. Well done Parky. Saturday nights, however, will not be the same without him. I never did quite get used to him being on ITV, a channel I confess we rarely watch but on the few occasions we did catch him over there we were pleased to see that the format of his shows had remained the same as when they first started in 1971.
Of course everyone remembers that emu incident but I just loved the way he prompted people gently to tell their (obviously rehearsed) anecdotes. His own favourites were often sports personalities, Muhammad Ali, Geoffrey Boycott, George Best and the lovely David Beckham. His final show, the one before the one where he picked all his favourite moments was rather disappointing. Billy Connelly was his usual magic, outrageous self, but Dame Judi Dench was cut far too short and what, frankly, was Dame Edna Everidge doing there? It was a disappointing ending to his career. I look forward to seeing some of the earlier interviews being released on DVD later, I'm sure that must be in the pipeline. Perhaps he can resurrect interviews with David Niven, always a great laugh, the Princess Anne interview, John Lennon, Peter Sellars, the list would be endless.
I wonder if anyone can take his place as chat show king? Alan Titchmarsh does a good job - time for the BBC to jump in quick and snap up that idea I would have thought.
Congratulations also to Sir Ian McKellern, the lovely Leslie Phillips ('Hello!'), super Julie Walters and gorgeous Kylie Minogue. And one of the most deserved awards to Nicholas Kenyon the out-going administrator of the BBC Promenade Concerts for stirling work over the last 11 years and bringing a wider audience to the Proms.
I know some people think that this sort of thing is a waste of time, money, and space but I love that people can be recognised by their peers for their work whether it is in the world of entertainment or not.
Friday 28 December 2007
December's reading
St Gaspard
Not content with finishing one bathroom, Jon has now started work on the downstairs 'smallest room', also known as the reading room as we have bookshelves in there. Storage was one of our major concerns when we moved in with the boxes of books, already reduced in number from the vast collection we had in the UK.
We seem to have shelves of books in most rooms whilst still trying to keep the number down to a reasonable level and, finally, beginning to get over the compulsion to keep every book we have read over the years. Now we are more willing to part with books after we have both read them, although so far they have only got as far as the garage. Our original intention was to take some back to the UK to charity shops there and the better ones were going to be sold on Amazon, unfortunately we filled the car so much with other things that there was no room for them.
There are a couple of charities here that will take English books, and there is also a recently discovered small library run by a French/British association locally so we may be able to offer some of them there. Just as long as we remember to put them in the car one day when we go out.
We have just read the latest reading group read. Alan Alda's autobiography 'Never Have Your Dog Stuffed'. We both really enjoyed this insight into the actor's childhood and his strained relationship with his mother who suffered from schitzophrenia and an alcohol problem. His book isn't the usual 'I'm a celebrity, look at me I'm wonderful' type of book littered with references to other actors and actresses. Instead it is the story of his unusual childhood, his struggle to get work as an actor leading to his success in the series M.A.S.H, and the story of his love for his wife and family.
Now we move on to Lionel Schriver's 'We Need To Talk About Kevin' which, from first glance through looks rather more challenging!
Not content with finishing one bathroom, Jon has now started work on the downstairs 'smallest room', also known as the reading room as we have bookshelves in there. Storage was one of our major concerns when we moved in with the boxes of books, already reduced in number from the vast collection we had in the UK.
We seem to have shelves of books in most rooms whilst still trying to keep the number down to a reasonable level and, finally, beginning to get over the compulsion to keep every book we have read over the years. Now we are more willing to part with books after we have both read them, although so far they have only got as far as the garage. Our original intention was to take some back to the UK to charity shops there and the better ones were going to be sold on Amazon, unfortunately we filled the car so much with other things that there was no room for them.
There are a couple of charities here that will take English books, and there is also a recently discovered small library run by a French/British association locally so we may be able to offer some of them there. Just as long as we remember to put them in the car one day when we go out.
We have just read the latest reading group read. Alan Alda's autobiography 'Never Have Your Dog Stuffed'. We both really enjoyed this insight into the actor's childhood and his strained relationship with his mother who suffered from schitzophrenia and an alcohol problem. His book isn't the usual 'I'm a celebrity, look at me I'm wonderful' type of book littered with references to other actors and actresses. Instead it is the story of his unusual childhood, his struggle to get work as an actor leading to his success in the series M.A.S.H, and the story of his love for his wife and family.
Now we move on to Lionel Schriver's 'We Need To Talk About Kevin' which, from first glance through looks rather more challenging!
Thursday 27 December 2007
No room at the freezer
St Jean
Weather: At last a little milder! And no rain.
I just discovered that it is St Jean today, so I had better plan a little something for Jon's Saint's Day. I don't think I will be decorating Millie Mehari with lace ribbons and bows in the French style though!
The weather has turned a little milder. I have no idea how long this will last, having given up many moons ago on the accuracy of Mr Meteo who never seems to get anything right. Now we just look out of the window in the morning and if we can see the home of dear Mrs Veranda, then the weather must be OK. If it is all white between here and there then it's cold and if we can't see it, then it must be foggy. Et voila!
I made the mistake of going shopping this morning. Just for a few bits and pieces, nothing too desperate, but there were lots of special offers on that were too good to resist so the freezer is now fit to bust again - and there are various ingredients waiting to be cooked ready for the Reveillon (New Year's Eve to you) and our visitors arriving on 2 January.
I also restocked on birdfood again since the greedy little blighters have finished up everything we had. A few weeks ago we met someone who complained that since his wife started feeding the birds he was now spending an extortionate amount of his meagre pension on bird seed. We'll have to look out or we'll be in the same boat.
That will be my mother's fault of course, she suggested it would be nice to have a little bird table in the fig tree.
Jon has spent the morning finishing the redecoration of the bathroom which now looks clean and shining again with no signs of condensation or the resulting muck that goes along with it. Long may it last.
Next job .......? Don't know just yet, there are too many to choose from.
Weather: At last a little milder! And no rain.
I just discovered that it is St Jean today, so I had better plan a little something for Jon's Saint's Day. I don't think I will be decorating Millie Mehari with lace ribbons and bows in the French style though!
The weather has turned a little milder. I have no idea how long this will last, having given up many moons ago on the accuracy of Mr Meteo who never seems to get anything right. Now we just look out of the window in the morning and if we can see the home of dear Mrs Veranda, then the weather must be OK. If it is all white between here and there then it's cold and if we can't see it, then it must be foggy. Et voila!
I made the mistake of going shopping this morning. Just for a few bits and pieces, nothing too desperate, but there were lots of special offers on that were too good to resist so the freezer is now fit to bust again - and there are various ingredients waiting to be cooked ready for the Reveillon (New Year's Eve to you) and our visitors arriving on 2 January.
I also restocked on birdfood again since the greedy little blighters have finished up everything we had. A few weeks ago we met someone who complained that since his wife started feeding the birds he was now spending an extortionate amount of his meagre pension on bird seed. We'll have to look out or we'll be in the same boat.
That will be my mother's fault of course, she suggested it would be nice to have a little bird table in the fig tree.
Jon has spent the morning finishing the redecoration of the bathroom which now looks clean and shining again with no signs of condensation or the resulting muck that goes along with it. Long may it last.
Next job .......? Don't know just yet, there are too many to choose from.
Wednesday 26 December 2007
White Christmas
St Stéphane
I don't think this is quite what Bing had in mind when he sang that lovely song
White, it certainly was, snow it wasn't but it did look very pretty. This is when it was -10 degrees C.
And this, from another angle
Later on it warmed up to -2 degrees C and the feeding frenzy began. Not us, these little chaps
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I don't think this is quite what Bing had in mind when he sang that lovely song
White, it certainly was, snow it wasn't but it did look very pretty. This is when it was -10 degrees C.
And this, from another angle
Later on it warmed up to -2 degrees C and the feeding frenzy began. Not us, these little chaps
I shall refrain from putting up any pictures of our own delicious lunch. The reason being that I did follow the nice market stall holder's instructions to stuff the neck of the goose. Unfortunately it did look rather, well, how can I put this? Well, actually, erm ..... phallic. (Sorry, Mum)
As we fell about laughing, Jon only looking slightly worried having checked first (?), we imagined people giving theatrical winks in kitchens all over France. Ooh, err, Missus. Lots of nudge, nudge, wink, wink jokes going on.
We had a very nice, quiet and relaxed day, took several hours to eat our 7 small courses the only disaster was the completely defrosted basil sorbet which had been left out of the freezer to soften slightly. Not to worry, I replaced it with an exotic fruit one instead. Now I have to remember to serve the refrozen basil sorbet another day!
Monday 24 December 2007
Food preparation
Ste Adèle
After days of planning to make this Christmas special, since it is the first Christmas Day we have spent alone for over thirty years, I think I have finally cracked it.
We went down to Cahors market this morning, hearing it was particularly special on Christmas Eve, and we were, frankly, rather disappointed. We bumped into friends who were equally surprised to find so few stalls and we wished each other a Happy Christmas. A very nice man found me a goose small enough for two people and proceeded to do things to it that I won't offend the vegetarians amongst you by describing. He told me exactly how to cook it, and I listened attentively even though we have had goose for Christmas dinner several times in the past.
We topped up the 'decent' wine cellar (as opposed to the everyday wine cellar), threw in a bunch of flowers for good measure and returned to a slap-up lunch of .... a hot dog.
The hard work will start this afternoon. I've picked a special fish menu for tonight, 5 courses in total but all light courses. I will try to get ahead for tomorrow's rather more ambitious menu too.
Happy Christmas one and all.
After days of planning to make this Christmas special, since it is the first Christmas Day we have spent alone for over thirty years, I think I have finally cracked it.
We went down to Cahors market this morning, hearing it was particularly special on Christmas Eve, and we were, frankly, rather disappointed. We bumped into friends who were equally surprised to find so few stalls and we wished each other a Happy Christmas. A very nice man found me a goose small enough for two people and proceeded to do things to it that I won't offend the vegetarians amongst you by describing. He told me exactly how to cook it, and I listened attentively even though we have had goose for Christmas dinner several times in the past.
We topped up the 'decent' wine cellar (as opposed to the everyday wine cellar), threw in a bunch of flowers for good measure and returned to a slap-up lunch of .... a hot dog.
The hard work will start this afternoon. I've picked a special fish menu for tonight, 5 courses in total but all light courses. I will try to get ahead for tomorrow's rather more ambitious menu too.
Happy Christmas one and all.
Saturday 22 December 2007
Why, oh why?
Ste Xavière
Why am I making terrines, sausage rolls, Christmas biscuits, spiced pears, spiced muffins, stuffing, gingerbread, and on and on and on?
It's just like I never have got into the swing of cooking for two, there's always enough for 4 and half goes into the freezer where it ends up at the back and gets forgotten about until too late.
The last of the girls left home in 2000. And we're spending Christmas just us two.
Anyone fancy dropping in for left overs? There should be some to spare!
Why am I making terrines, sausage rolls, Christmas biscuits, spiced pears, spiced muffins, stuffing, gingerbread, and on and on and on?
It's just like I never have got into the swing of cooking for two, there's always enough for 4 and half goes into the freezer where it ends up at the back and gets forgotten about until too late.
The last of the girls left home in 2000. And we're spending Christmas just us two.
Anyone fancy dropping in for left overs? There should be some to spare!
Friday 21 December 2007
Lesson to be learned - always take the camera with you
St Tomaz
Travelling north yesterday to shop for some nice goodies in our favourite shop, we were stunned to see, in the not so far distance, snow topped mountains.
Further investigation leads us to believe that these are the mountains of the Auvergne, the very centre of France. Framed by a stunningly azure blue sky, these peaks demand your attention (unless you are driving of course) and, at that time of the morning it was all very heart-lifting. Until you get out of the car. Then, the wind coming from the north east, the direction of these mountains, recommends you to don hats, gloves, ear muffs, thermal underwear and a fur coat (synthetic, naturally).
Unfortunately, story of my life, I didn't have my camera with me and my phone camera just wouldn't pick up the mountains in the distance.
I had thought I would pop out this morning to photograph them but, wouldn't you know it, there is a very thin veil of cloud over this part of France today and the sky isn't as perfectly blue as yesterday.
I really must put the camera in my handbag and leave it there.
Travelling north yesterday to shop for some nice goodies in our favourite shop, we were stunned to see, in the not so far distance, snow topped mountains.
Further investigation leads us to believe that these are the mountains of the Auvergne, the very centre of France. Framed by a stunningly azure blue sky, these peaks demand your attention (unless you are driving of course) and, at that time of the morning it was all very heart-lifting. Until you get out of the car. Then, the wind coming from the north east, the direction of these mountains, recommends you to don hats, gloves, ear muffs, thermal underwear and a fur coat (synthetic, naturally).
Unfortunately, story of my life, I didn't have my camera with me and my phone camera just wouldn't pick up the mountains in the distance.
I had thought I would pop out this morning to photograph them but, wouldn't you know it, there is a very thin veil of cloud over this part of France today and the sky isn't as perfectly blue as yesterday.
I really must put the camera in my handbag and leave it there.
Thursday 20 December 2007
Following yonder star....
St Théophile
*So, last night we went to a little church in the middle of nowhere to sing carols in French and English.
We went with friends who offered to drive. They have a new toy. It's one of those virtual ladies who tells you which route to take in a rather bossy voice. Unfortunately she was temporarily switched off because they set her from their house and turned her on again when we left ours.
This caused the lady to go into a sulk. She just refused to speak to our driver again. The lights were on and the directions were shown on the screen, but she did not want to say 'In three hundred yards, turn right' to him at all. Eventually though she must have thawed out because one we hit Dordgneshire she started chatting again and, in revenge, led our driver down a series of very narrow, twisty, turny roads until he was worried that we would end up in a farmyard where he might come face to face with a farmer and his gun.
Luckily (?) though, she took us to the coldest church in the history of the world. Now, we've been in some cold churches in our time and no-one really expects to find a warm one now do they? But this particular little church took the crown. In fact I sat there thinking about the article I heard of the radio just a few days ago about the snow village .
The service began. There were no hymn books, no printed sheets, but the words were displayed on an overhead projector. The service was led by one of the chaplaincy of Aquitaine and a French padre. The readings were alternately in French and English, and so were the carols, sometimes we sang the carols in both languages.
There were about 50 hardy, frost-bitten souls in the church and we made a good noise. Except when the carol completely defeated us or the organist played the wrong tune, or the chorus twice. It was quite a challenge fitting in the French words to one of the verses of 'Hark, the Herald Angels Sing' but we all sang out loud.
The few children of the congregation dressed in the obligatory dressing gowns and tea towels to perform their little Nativity tableau. Joseph had his hands full with a lantern and staff and when Mary asked him to pass the baby to her, he grabbed the poor (fortunately plastic) mite by the middle and thrust him into her hands. As a show of good measure and affection he then patted the little thing on the head (quite hard!).
The three Kings wandered down the aisle with their gifts, tinsel turbans on their heads, one of them dancing a little jig to 'We Three Kings' and we were surprised by two of the oldest shepherds we've seen for many a year dressed equally in their dressing gowns and tea towel headgear. We decided that they wanted to relive the Nativity plays of their youth.
After the service, we all piled into the Salle des Fêtes for some well-earned, warming mulled wine and a slice of stollen cake (no, not STOLEN, Mr Anonymous commenter).
We thoroughly enjoyed our evening. The mixed French and English group at the little church were friendly and welcoming. We may well visit again.
In the warm weather - but we may still need to wear thermal underwear.
* PS: don't you just hate people who start a conversation with the word 'So...'?
*So, last night we went to a little church in the middle of nowhere to sing carols in French and English.
We went with friends who offered to drive. They have a new toy. It's one of those virtual ladies who tells you which route to take in a rather bossy voice. Unfortunately she was temporarily switched off because they set her from their house and turned her on again when we left ours.
This caused the lady to go into a sulk. She just refused to speak to our driver again. The lights were on and the directions were shown on the screen, but she did not want to say 'In three hundred yards, turn right' to him at all. Eventually though she must have thawed out because one we hit Dordgneshire she started chatting again and, in revenge, led our driver down a series of very narrow, twisty, turny roads until he was worried that we would end up in a farmyard where he might come face to face with a farmer and his gun.
Luckily (?) though, she took us to the coldest church in the history of the world. Now, we've been in some cold churches in our time and no-one really expects to find a warm one now do they? But this particular little church took the crown. In fact I sat there thinking about the article I heard of the radio just a few days ago about the snow village .
The service began. There were no hymn books, no printed sheets, but the words were displayed on an overhead projector. The service was led by one of the chaplaincy of Aquitaine and a French padre. The readings were alternately in French and English, and so were the carols, sometimes we sang the carols in both languages.
There were about 50 hardy, frost-bitten souls in the church and we made a good noise. Except when the carol completely defeated us or the organist played the wrong tune, or the chorus twice. It was quite a challenge fitting in the French words to one of the verses of 'Hark, the Herald Angels Sing' but we all sang out loud.
The few children of the congregation dressed in the obligatory dressing gowns and tea towels to perform their little Nativity tableau. Joseph had his hands full with a lantern and staff and when Mary asked him to pass the baby to her, he grabbed the poor (fortunately plastic) mite by the middle and thrust him into her hands. As a show of good measure and affection he then patted the little thing on the head (quite hard!).
The three Kings wandered down the aisle with their gifts, tinsel turbans on their heads, one of them dancing a little jig to 'We Three Kings' and we were surprised by two of the oldest shepherds we've seen for many a year dressed equally in their dressing gowns and tea towel headgear. We decided that they wanted to relive the Nativity plays of their youth.
After the service, we all piled into the Salle des Fêtes for some well-earned, warming mulled wine and a slice of stollen cake (no, not STOLEN, Mr Anonymous commenter).
We thoroughly enjoyed our evening. The mixed French and English group at the little church were friendly and welcoming. We may well visit again.
In the warm weather - but we may still need to wear thermal underwear.
* PS: don't you just hate people who start a conversation with the word 'So...'?
Wednesday 19 December 2007
I am only a mere woman (with apologies to Susie)
St Urbain
It has come to my attention that when I don't blog some people get very upset.
So, please accept my apologies for not writing every day. The trouble is, I have to do other things too.
Today it has been shopping. Now I'm writing a long Christmas e-mail to all the people who don't read the blog - and those I forgot to send cards to this year for whatever reason (?). In an hour or so's time, some friends are coming to collect us and we are going to a Carols by Candlelight service followed by mulled wine and stollen (I think this is because the church we are going to isn't heated so they are trying to bribe us to go).
Jon has decided to redecorate the bathroom again - this before the major decoration, ripping out the bath etc which will happen next year.
There's the washing, the ironing, meals to cook, cats to feed.
Yes, I am a woman, I can multi-task. I apologise for not learning to type with my toes. ;-D
Forgive me. I'll be back tomorrow morning.
It has come to my attention that when I don't blog some people get very upset.
So, please accept my apologies for not writing every day. The trouble is, I have to do other things too.
Today it has been shopping. Now I'm writing a long Christmas e-mail to all the people who don't read the blog - and those I forgot to send cards to this year for whatever reason (?). In an hour or so's time, some friends are coming to collect us and we are going to a Carols by Candlelight service followed by mulled wine and stollen (I think this is because the church we are going to isn't heated so they are trying to bribe us to go).
Jon has decided to redecorate the bathroom again - this before the major decoration, ripping out the bath etc which will happen next year.
There's the washing, the ironing, meals to cook, cats to feed.
Yes, I am a woman, I can multi-task. I apologise for not learning to type with my toes. ;-D
Forgive me. I'll be back tomorrow morning.
Tuesday 18 December 2007
Weather again
St Gatien
Yesterday's weather: ........
I'm fed up with saying that it is cold, so I thought I would look for an alternative in Roget's Thesaurus.
So the weather yesterday, the day before and many days before that has been algid (?), arctic, below freezing, below zero, benumbed, biting, bitter, blasting, bleak, boreal, brisk, brumal, chill, chilled, cool, crisp, cutting, freezing, frigid, frore, frosty, frozen, gelid, glacial, hiemal, hyperborean, icebox, iced, icy, inclement (to say the least) intense, keen (keen??), nipping, nippy, numbed, numbing, penetrating, piercing, polar, raw, rimy, severe, sharp, shivery, snappy, stinging and wintery. (I missed out sleety and snowy because it hasn't done that - yet).
There, now I'm not going to mention it again until it warms up and the frost finally disappears from the area below the trees which doesn't get the sun.
Yesterday's weather: ........
I'm fed up with saying that it is cold, so I thought I would look for an alternative in Roget's Thesaurus.
So the weather yesterday, the day before and many days before that has been algid (?), arctic, below freezing, below zero, benumbed, biting, bitter, blasting, bleak, boreal, brisk, brumal, chill, chilled, cool, crisp, cutting, freezing, frigid, frore, frosty, frozen, gelid, glacial, hiemal, hyperborean, icebox, iced, icy, inclement (to say the least) intense, keen (keen??), nipping, nippy, numbed, numbing, penetrating, piercing, polar, raw, rimy, severe, sharp, shivery, snappy, stinging and wintery. (I missed out sleety and snowy because it hasn't done that - yet).
There, now I'm not going to mention it again until it warms up and the frost finally disappears from the area below the trees which doesn't get the sun.
Sunday 16 December 2007
Au secours!!!!
Ste Alice
HAPPY SAINT'S DAY ALICE!!!!! X X X X X
Yesterday's weather: no better, freezing fog, ice, cold.....
They've come at last.
The chugging of a car was heard climbing the lane towards out house - I scowled, I usually do at strangers, but I nodded and mouthed 'Bonjour'.
Three men unfolded themselves from the car and I noticed that they were wearing the same jackets, black with a reflecting stripe across the middle. The pompiers had come to wish us a Merry Christmas and offer us their calendar. Having heard about this, I was ready with some money to offer them.
The firemen are all volunteers, they attend not just fires but road accidents and other emergencies too. They apparently do not deal with wasps nests as has been widely reported in the past.
These three were not the glamourous men in uniform I had been hoping for. Mr Grumpy was their leader, asking who we are, how long we had been living here and who the neighbours are. All of which was noted in his little black book, along with the note that we had given them a little donation in exchange for the calendar. The other two chaps were equally nothing to write home about but looking at their team photo on the inside cover of the calendar it seems that they were hard pressed to find some nice hunky firemen to send round collecting donations.
Now I am racked with guilt.
Did I offer enough money?
What is the norm?
Will I sleep tonight?
Who else should I expect to come calling?
PS I'm still waiting on the French rugby team.......
HAPPY SAINT'S DAY ALICE!!!!! X X X X X
Yesterday's weather: no better, freezing fog, ice, cold.....
They've come at last.
The chugging of a car was heard climbing the lane towards out house - I scowled, I usually do at strangers, but I nodded and mouthed 'Bonjour'.
Three men unfolded themselves from the car and I noticed that they were wearing the same jackets, black with a reflecting stripe across the middle. The pompiers had come to wish us a Merry Christmas and offer us their calendar. Having heard about this, I was ready with some money to offer them.
The firemen are all volunteers, they attend not just fires but road accidents and other emergencies too. They apparently do not deal with wasps nests as has been widely reported in the past.
These three were not the glamourous men in uniform I had been hoping for. Mr Grumpy was their leader, asking who we are, how long we had been living here and who the neighbours are. All of which was noted in his little black book, along with the note that we had given them a little donation in exchange for the calendar. The other two chaps were equally nothing to write home about but looking at their team photo on the inside cover of the calendar it seems that they were hard pressed to find some nice hunky firemen to send round collecting donations.
Now I am racked with guilt.
Did I offer enough money?
What is the norm?
Will I sleep tonight?
Who else should I expect to come calling?
PS I'm still waiting on the French rugby team.......
Saturday 15 December 2007
I can hear the trees shivering
Ste Ninon
Yesterday's weather: this cold is getting boring
This is one COLD azalea!!!
I just noticed on this photo it looks a bit like a tombstone - if I don't keep the azalea warm perhaps it will need one!!!We have new residents in the hedgerow. Around 100 starlings have just moved in, chattering away all day long. It would be lovely to see them doing their famous roosting 'dance' but as we are nowhere near reed beds I think that unlikely. However, it's lovely to have them along.
The bird table is still attracting the one blue tit, but there are other birds showing an interest too now. Hopefully it will be as busy as the hedgerow before long.
Friday 14 December 2007
The postman always rings twice
Ste Odile
Yesterday's weather; Still bloody cold
I've been expecting the postman, the fireman or someone at least to come round and sell me a calender.
I've been reading that one should expect a call, other people I know have had a call, but the postman doesn't even knock once on my door. I don't even know where the nearest firemen are so that I can go and knock on their door and ask to buy their calendar. It's all a bit of a let down really. I've had a little stash of cash just waiting for them to pop in and offer me their calendar and wait patiently for a Christmas tip but still nothing.
Of course, what would be the best thing would be if the Stade de France popped in to offer me their calendar (click here for details). I'm ready with my 10 Euros, my offer of a cuppa or something stronger.
In my dreams.
I'd have to find a suitable calendar for Jon though, it wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it? I did a little search, carefully mind you, expecting graphic images and not wanting to view anything that would offend. There was the 'Calendrier des Miss', which I thought might have a few scantily clad ladies but they are all well covered up. Other options were the calendar of angels, the calendar of little fairies (?) and all the others were pop stars or TV series. Very boring.
So I'll have to forgo the Gods of the Stadium for this year.
Now, where were those firemen again?
Yesterday's weather; Still bloody cold
I've been expecting the postman, the fireman or someone at least to come round and sell me a calender.
I've been reading that one should expect a call, other people I know have had a call, but the postman doesn't even knock once on my door. I don't even know where the nearest firemen are so that I can go and knock on their door and ask to buy their calendar. It's all a bit of a let down really. I've had a little stash of cash just waiting for them to pop in and offer me their calendar and wait patiently for a Christmas tip but still nothing.
Of course, what would be the best thing would be if the Stade de France popped in to offer me their calendar (click here for details). I'm ready with my 10 Euros, my offer of a cuppa or something stronger.
In my dreams.
I'd have to find a suitable calendar for Jon though, it wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it? I did a little search, carefully mind you, expecting graphic images and not wanting to view anything that would offend. There was the 'Calendrier des Miss', which I thought might have a few scantily clad ladies but they are all well covered up. Other options were the calendar of angels, the calendar of little fairies (?) and all the others were pop stars or TV series. Very boring.
So I'll have to forgo the Gods of the Stadium for this year.
Now, where were those firemen again?
Thursday 13 December 2007
Chilling with blue tits
Ste Lucie
Yesterday's weather: cold, cold, colder
Happy birthday to Vikki x x x x xx
The fig tree outside the kitchen window has always been full of birds. It's lovely watching them, blue tits, great tits, chaffinches, robins - all sorts of small birds come and visit.
Sitting watching them the other day, Mum suggested putting a bird table in the tree. I was worried that the cats might enjoy this as a new playground but Mum seemed to think that they would just ignore the birds.
Never one to let the grass grow under his feet, Jon immediately got up from the lunch table and went to the garage to create a bird chateau for gourmet feathered friends. He duly put it in the tree and we waited for the visitors.
And waited.
And waited.
Aiming to tempt them a little Mum had put out some cheese, bacon scraps and bread for the little dears. I added a fat ball which I bought in the garden centre and some bird seed, interstingly labelled 'Meusli' - well, we thought we would attract the gourmet birds with this house.
A lone blue tit appeared, ignored the chateau and headed straight for the fat ball which it seemed to like very much thank you.
A week later and the blue tit is still visiting.
No other birds, just the one.
I just have this feeling that one day I'm going to look out and find a blue tit bigger than the tree shouting at me to feed him.
Yesterday's weather: cold, cold, colder
Happy birthday to Vikki x x x x xx
The fig tree outside the kitchen window has always been full of birds. It's lovely watching them, blue tits, great tits, chaffinches, robins - all sorts of small birds come and visit.
Sitting watching them the other day, Mum suggested putting a bird table in the tree. I was worried that the cats might enjoy this as a new playground but Mum seemed to think that they would just ignore the birds.
Never one to let the grass grow under his feet, Jon immediately got up from the lunch table and went to the garage to create a bird chateau for gourmet feathered friends. He duly put it in the tree and we waited for the visitors.
And waited.
And waited.
Aiming to tempt them a little Mum had put out some cheese, bacon scraps and bread for the little dears. I added a fat ball which I bought in the garden centre and some bird seed, interstingly labelled 'Meusli' - well, we thought we would attract the gourmet birds with this house.
A lone blue tit appeared, ignored the chateau and headed straight for the fat ball which it seemed to like very much thank you.
A week later and the blue tit is still visiting.
No other birds, just the one.
I just have this feeling that one day I'm going to look out and find a blue tit bigger than the tree shouting at me to feed him.
Tuesday 11 December 2007
Deck the halls, tra la la
St Daniel
Yesterday's weather: Boring. Well I suppose it is December
I've been decking the halls today. Well OK, they aren't exactly halls but they've been decked anyway.
I do enjoy getting the decorations out every year. Some have good memories from years gone by. I remember buying certain items. The Santa character from the MoMa shop in New York; The reindeer candle holder from Maplewood, NJ; the garlands from Santa Fir in Shamley Green, the best Christmas tree shop in southern England; there are the knitted decorations I made when the girls were younger and I was going through a knitting phase (I'm going through another right now) and their knitted stockings. We even have a little bell that Jon says was on his Christmas tree when he was a child. I think that is the oldest one.
It seems odd putting these decorations up in our new home here in France and I wonder what the people on the other side of the hill will be thinking of our twinkling lights across the valley - we never close our shutters, preferring to look out at the night sky.
All the villages locally have their own Christmas lights up now, they do look remarkably like the lights that were up during the summer when each village in turn was en fête but then, why not recycle them in winter? Some houses have lights outside, mostly the tubes of lights that have become popular in recent years. And then of course there are hanging Santas all over the place.
I feel very sorry for Santa, it just looks like they don't like him much over here. He is thrown from windows willy-nilly and dangles from the end of a piece of string as if he has just been convicted of some heinous crime and sent to the gallows. I don't think they are at all festive but rather a sorry sight. I must try and photograph one to prove my point.
Trees have appeared outside houses rather than inside and they are decorated with coloured paper bows - I wonder how they will stand up to the torrential rain we've had recently, not to mention the high winds.
My next task is to try and find the Christmas CDs that Jon carefully hid in a safe place ........
Yesterday's weather: Boring. Well I suppose it is December
I've been decking the halls today. Well OK, they aren't exactly halls but they've been decked anyway.
I do enjoy getting the decorations out every year. Some have good memories from years gone by. I remember buying certain items. The Santa character from the MoMa shop in New York; The reindeer candle holder from Maplewood, NJ; the garlands from Santa Fir in Shamley Green, the best Christmas tree shop in southern England; there are the knitted decorations I made when the girls were younger and I was going through a knitting phase (I'm going through another right now) and their knitted stockings. We even have a little bell that Jon says was on his Christmas tree when he was a child. I think that is the oldest one.
It seems odd putting these decorations up in our new home here in France and I wonder what the people on the other side of the hill will be thinking of our twinkling lights across the valley - we never close our shutters, preferring to look out at the night sky.
All the villages locally have their own Christmas lights up now, they do look remarkably like the lights that were up during the summer when each village in turn was en fête but then, why not recycle them in winter? Some houses have lights outside, mostly the tubes of lights that have become popular in recent years. And then of course there are hanging Santas all over the place.
I feel very sorry for Santa, it just looks like they don't like him much over here. He is thrown from windows willy-nilly and dangles from the end of a piece of string as if he has just been convicted of some heinous crime and sent to the gallows. I don't think they are at all festive but rather a sorry sight. I must try and photograph one to prove my point.
Trees have appeared outside houses rather than inside and they are decorated with coloured paper bows - I wonder how they will stand up to the torrential rain we've had recently, not to mention the high winds.
My next task is to try and find the Christmas CDs that Jon carefully hid in a safe place ........
Monday 10 December 2007
Don't talk to me
St Romaric
Yesterday's weather: more rain but no more indoor streams!!
A funny thing happened on the way to the forum - sorry, got carried away - actually it was England, going and coming. We decided to stay overnight half way from here to Calais since we didn't fancy driving in the dark (it's an age thing, I have decided, the eyes just don't work as well as they used to and we both find it a bit of a strain).
We decided to lodge at our usual posting house near Orleans to give the horses (horse power) a chance to rest and to give the driver (Jon) the chance to be fed and watered and have a sleep before the rigours of our round Paris route and face up to the nightmare that is the M20 and M25.
We have stayed at the same hotel, one of a large chain, many times and have always found it quite acceptable, the food very good, the room adequate and the main pulling point, a bath. Here at home we have one of these small French apologies for a bath, a sit down with your feet in the deep end affair which leaves the top half cold and the toes scalded.
Not very satisfactory at all.
So we looked forward to a bath that would take almost the full length for a decent soak.
We decided to put it off until after dinner and went to the restaurant. Here we found the difference between weekend and weekday, summer and 'off season'. The restaurant, instead of its usual hubub of couples and families eagerly discussing their journey and the possibility of visiting one of the great chateaux tomorrow, was full of single men, one per table, contemplating their plate of food and looking neither left nor right, up nor down. There was none of the usual 'bon appetit' between tables, the body language said 'Don't talk to me, or else'.
So we didn't.
The food was OK, not up to the usual standard, but OK. The wine was very good for the price.
We retired to our room and indulged ourselves one after the other in the long anticipated soak in the bath.
Then we discovered the other problem with this hotel 'off season'. They close half of the rooms in the part of the hotel we usually stay in. The half that is at the back of the block. The back of the block that doesn't face the road.
We didn't sleep more than 10 winks between us. The road, even though it was in a suburb of a suburb of Orleans was noisy all night.
We rose at 6.45, propped our eyes open with matchsticks, gulped down a cup of tea in our room and pointed the car in a northerly direction.
Travelling back from the UK and having had a bad experience at our usual hotel, we decided to change plan and stay elsewhere, a different chain this time but another that we had enjoyed in the past.
At this one the food was disgusting - very strange for France. The restaurant this time was equally full of single men but instead of staring at their plates they were watching a boxing match on a strategically placed television.
The only thing it it's favour was that the room was quiet in this hotel and we didn't need the matchsticks for our eyes.
There must be lessons to be learned:
1. Don't travel midweek
2. Don't travel out of season
3. Don't stay in a hotel chain
4. Maybe just don't travel.
Must be better for the carbon footprint, but then how do we get to see the family? Another one to think on for another day........
Yesterday's weather: more rain but no more indoor streams!!
A funny thing happened on the way to the forum - sorry, got carried away - actually it was England, going and coming. We decided to stay overnight half way from here to Calais since we didn't fancy driving in the dark (it's an age thing, I have decided, the eyes just don't work as well as they used to and we both find it a bit of a strain).
We decided to lodge at our usual posting house near Orleans to give the horses (horse power) a chance to rest and to give the driver (Jon) the chance to be fed and watered and have a sleep before the rigours of our round Paris route and face up to the nightmare that is the M20 and M25.
We have stayed at the same hotel, one of a large chain, many times and have always found it quite acceptable, the food very good, the room adequate and the main pulling point, a bath. Here at home we have one of these small French apologies for a bath, a sit down with your feet in the deep end affair which leaves the top half cold and the toes scalded.
Not very satisfactory at all.
So we looked forward to a bath that would take almost the full length for a decent soak.
We decided to put it off until after dinner and went to the restaurant. Here we found the difference between weekend and weekday, summer and 'off season'. The restaurant, instead of its usual hubub of couples and families eagerly discussing their journey and the possibility of visiting one of the great chateaux tomorrow, was full of single men, one per table, contemplating their plate of food and looking neither left nor right, up nor down. There was none of the usual 'bon appetit' between tables, the body language said 'Don't talk to me, or else'.
So we didn't.
The food was OK, not up to the usual standard, but OK. The wine was very good for the price.
We retired to our room and indulged ourselves one after the other in the long anticipated soak in the bath.
Then we discovered the other problem with this hotel 'off season'. They close half of the rooms in the part of the hotel we usually stay in. The half that is at the back of the block. The back of the block that doesn't face the road.
We didn't sleep more than 10 winks between us. The road, even though it was in a suburb of a suburb of Orleans was noisy all night.
We rose at 6.45, propped our eyes open with matchsticks, gulped down a cup of tea in our room and pointed the car in a northerly direction.
Travelling back from the UK and having had a bad experience at our usual hotel, we decided to change plan and stay elsewhere, a different chain this time but another that we had enjoyed in the past.
At this one the food was disgusting - very strange for France. The restaurant this time was equally full of single men but instead of staring at their plates they were watching a boxing match on a strategically placed television.
The only thing it it's favour was that the room was quiet in this hotel and we didn't need the matchsticks for our eyes.
There must be lessons to be learned:
1. Don't travel midweek
2. Don't travel out of season
3. Don't stay in a hotel chain
4. Maybe just don't travel.
Must be better for the carbon footprint, but then how do we get to see the family? Another one to think on for another day........
Sunday 9 December 2007
A river runs through it
Ste Guadelupe
Yesterday's weather: Nice morning, wet afternoon
We always dreamed of a little cottage, roses around the door, you know the sort of thing, and a stream running by.
It's a chocolate box image and when we found this little house and saw the roses around the door we thought we were almost there. The stream is missing, unless you want to walk down the lane to the road where there is a little stream running, except in the summer when it dries out completely - very annoying when one wants to partake in a little game of Pooh Sticks with the grandchildren.
We also have a little 'source' a freshwater well complete with pump just opposite our land and on the communal footpath that runs alongside us. So who could ask for more?
Well, obviously we did ask for more.
The problem with living in a house that is built into rock on the lower level is that you have to put up with the occasional indoor water feature appearing.
Thus, this morning when I went looking for milk in the fridge in the cave (cellar) I found a newly created stream running down the back wall and across the floor.
Anyone got a spare fishing rod?
Yesterday's weather: Nice morning, wet afternoon
We always dreamed of a little cottage, roses around the door, you know the sort of thing, and a stream running by.
It's a chocolate box image and when we found this little house and saw the roses around the door we thought we were almost there. The stream is missing, unless you want to walk down the lane to the road where there is a little stream running, except in the summer when it dries out completely - very annoying when one wants to partake in a little game of Pooh Sticks with the grandchildren.
We also have a little 'source' a freshwater well complete with pump just opposite our land and on the communal footpath that runs alongside us. So who could ask for more?
Well, obviously we did ask for more.
The problem with living in a house that is built into rock on the lower level is that you have to put up with the occasional indoor water feature appearing.
Thus, this morning when I went looking for milk in the fridge in the cave (cellar) I found a newly created stream running down the back wall and across the floor.
Anyone got a spare fishing rod?
Friday 7 December 2007
Honey, we're home
St Ambroise
We're finally home after what can only be described as a whirlwind trip to the UK. 2000 miles in total, an average of 5 hours a day in the car, a different bed every night, a couple of hours with family here and there and a shopping afternoon in Guildford is all we managed.
We saw far too many motorways and too much weather (mostly rain) but at least we missed the high winds the days we were on the ferry.
It is sooooo lovely to get back to our own bed.
We've only been out of the UK for 10 months but were surprised at how we had changed. The shops were far too hot, noisy and crowded (even making allowances for Christmas shopping). There was too much traffic on the roads and everywhere was noisy. We did love the fact that no-one was smoking in restaurants and pubs (not that we were in them very much) but noticed that all the pubs now have a little tent affair outside to accommodate those who did want to smoke. I suppose that this will just make smokers even more likely to catch bronchitis or pneumonia in the cold and damp - not quite sure how this is going to help the health service!
Having had every intention of finishing our Christmas shopping, we didn't succeed. One turn around HMV and we had had enough, couldn't think straight and didn't buy anything - Waterstone's was just as bad. I used to love Waterstone's, I'd spend my lunchtimes 'just browsing' (usually not leaving empty-handed) but we were surprised that the three (yes, two in Guildford) we visited had different books on display and we could never find the same book twice - therefore, trying to take advantage of 3 for 2 offers was difficult.
Waterstone's #1 - Jon was alone, didn't have enough time to make any purchase but spotted 6 or more books that he wanted to buy.
Waterstone's # 2 - I found one book, Jon found another but only one of the first 6 books.
Waterstone's # 3 - Bought 3 for 2 - (only one of the original 6) and next month's book group selection which was full price.
We also managed to find some books in charity shops. Charity shops in the north of England are (surprise, surprise) so much cheaper than those in the south. In fact, for many books it is cheaper to buy them second hand on Amazon and pay the shipping to France than to buy them in a charity shop. Oxfam's second hand bookshop in Guildford was most disappointing - not only did they have a very poor selection (we didn't buy anything there) but they were badly arranged and overpriced.
Oh, well, back home to France and just awaiting the credit card bill which I know will be quite painful. I made the mistake of joking with a lady in one shop that Mastercard must be quite concerned that I hadn't used the card in a year and it was getting quite a hammering. In the next shop the transaction was 'denied'. Just a little moment of panic that we didn't have any more cash or a cash card and may not be able to do any more shopping but luckily it was just a blip and the card worked next time (and the time after and ........ well, you get my drift).
And now there is just the pile of washing to deal with ................ Actually, lovely Jon is doing all that while I sort out a home for all these new books!
We're finally home after what can only be described as a whirlwind trip to the UK. 2000 miles in total, an average of 5 hours a day in the car, a different bed every night, a couple of hours with family here and there and a shopping afternoon in Guildford is all we managed.
We saw far too many motorways and too much weather (mostly rain) but at least we missed the high winds the days we were on the ferry.
It is sooooo lovely to get back to our own bed.
We've only been out of the UK for 10 months but were surprised at how we had changed. The shops were far too hot, noisy and crowded (even making allowances for Christmas shopping). There was too much traffic on the roads and everywhere was noisy. We did love the fact that no-one was smoking in restaurants and pubs (not that we were in them very much) but noticed that all the pubs now have a little tent affair outside to accommodate those who did want to smoke. I suppose that this will just make smokers even more likely to catch bronchitis or pneumonia in the cold and damp - not quite sure how this is going to help the health service!
Having had every intention of finishing our Christmas shopping, we didn't succeed. One turn around HMV and we had had enough, couldn't think straight and didn't buy anything - Waterstone's was just as bad. I used to love Waterstone's, I'd spend my lunchtimes 'just browsing' (usually not leaving empty-handed) but we were surprised that the three (yes, two in Guildford) we visited had different books on display and we could never find the same book twice - therefore, trying to take advantage of 3 for 2 offers was difficult.
Waterstone's #1 - Jon was alone, didn't have enough time to make any purchase but spotted 6 or more books that he wanted to buy.
Waterstone's # 2 - I found one book, Jon found another but only one of the first 6 books.
Waterstone's # 3 - Bought 3 for 2 - (only one of the original 6) and next month's book group selection which was full price.
We also managed to find some books in charity shops. Charity shops in the north of England are (surprise, surprise) so much cheaper than those in the south. In fact, for many books it is cheaper to buy them second hand on Amazon and pay the shipping to France than to buy them in a charity shop. Oxfam's second hand bookshop in Guildford was most disappointing - not only did they have a very poor selection (we didn't buy anything there) but they were badly arranged and overpriced.
Oh, well, back home to France and just awaiting the credit card bill which I know will be quite painful. I made the mistake of joking with a lady in one shop that Mastercard must be quite concerned that I hadn't used the card in a year and it was getting quite a hammering. In the next shop the transaction was 'denied'. Just a little moment of panic that we didn't have any more cash or a cash card and may not be able to do any more shopping but luckily it was just a blip and the card worked next time (and the time after and ........ well, you get my drift).
And now there is just the pile of washing to deal with ................ Actually, lovely Jon is doing all that while I sort out a home for all these new books!
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