Eureka

Ste Carine
Yesterday's weather: bright and cool

We have been on a shopping mission for a couple of months now. Every time we went to a village or town we hadn't been to before we searched out a housewares shop.

We've been looking for a tea tray. We wanted one similar to a friends which is a lovely big deep tray made of wood. Whenever I asked in a shop I was shown a vast array of what they had available. Usually made of anything other than wood, not deep and not big.

I don't think it was my bad French. I would always agree that what they were showing me was very nice but it wasn't what I had asked for now, was it? The shop assistant would look slightly miffed but agree with me.

Sarlat is a town that we have avoided all summer, simply because we know it is such a huge tourist attraction and from March to October it is almost impossible to locate a parking space. And, of course it is in the frozen north in Dordogneshire. We thought that we would pay a visit today, the smaller of their two market days each week.

The poor stall holders were definitely feeling the pinch. We and about another 4 couples wandered amongst the two or three dozen stalls. 'Bonjour Monsieur, Madame!' called a rather good looking young man waving a slice of Cantal cheese at us 'Would you like to try my cheese?'. We refused apologetically and passed on. The next cheese stall was run by a Dutch lady, she ran down the list of all the cheeses on her stall to everyone passing by but we didn't see any takers.

Instead, we headed for the 'spice lady' and found one of the few spices we'd not been able to locate - lucky us, was this an omen for the day? Black mustard seeds will make a good addition to the next curry Jon cooks us. She also had raw cashews, stem ginger and Bombay mix. We added some spicy looking olives for good measure. Madame over measured the cashews.

'Oh, that's OK' I said, 'I'll take those'

'Mais, non, Madame' she replied. 'You asked for 200 grams and I won't give you too many. It's just that it is so cold today that my fingers won't work'.

I sympathised and said that it was the coldest year I'd known. She thought I had said the wrong thing and corrected me.

'Yes it is the coldest day'.

'No, I said the coldest year, the summer was awful' We parted company sympathising over the weather and the bad tourist season.

It seems that every other shop in Sarlat sells either foie gras and other duck products or locally produced liqueurs and wines, we spotted some that we'd not seen before and made a mental note to go back another day.

Finally we spotted a kitchenware shop and, lo and behold, there was just the tea tray we had been searching for. Then we had to go through the usual questions:

'Do you want anything else?'. 'No'

'Is it a gift, shall I gift wrap it?' 'No'

'How would you like to pay? Credit card? No, we don't take those but a cheque will be fine'

I love that you can buy almost anything and have it gift wrapped in a shop here for no extra charge. That could save me hours at Christmas.

Time for a cuppa now, I'll carry it on my new tray. Do you know what this tray could do with? One of those nice old fashioned tray runners like my grandmother used to have. I might just look out for one next time I'm out.

Excuse me if I scream

Ste Mylène
Yesterday's weather: Lovely

We had a lovely morning yesterday. It was market day so we joined the many thousands of others in our little local town - sitting in a traffic jam. The first since we left the UK. We should have known better on a Saturday in August, but we wanted to show off the area to our visiting friend. We did eventually park and, after a quick tour of the market stalls and realising that if I bought anything (cheese, fish) it wouldn't enjoy the walk we intended to do, we set off up the hill to the viewing platform at the top of the town. From here, you can see for many miles in every direction. It really is a stunning view on a beautiful clear day, which is was. Back down in town we bought the few things we needed for lunch and returned home.

After lunch we tackled the pile of wooden jigsaw pieces that is our chalet, planning to check the contents and then move them all over to the prepared site on the other side of our land.

The floor of the chalet is missing.

I have contacted customer services and we are waiting for a reply from them when they have been in touch with the haulier who, of course, don't work on Saturdays or Sundays. Meanwhile we will sit and twiddle our thumbs. Not patiently! We have already waited six weeks for the chalet to be delivered and can't do anything without laying the floor first. We are all set and ready to go and had planned next week's work. Now we are so frustrated and I just don't feel that my French is good enough to have a real rant on the phone. I mean, I could rant away but then I would be so wound up that I won't understand whatever they say in response. I just want to go to the bottom of the garden and have a good scream like I did in the old days when we had three teenage girls in the house. (Sorry girls).

This morning the boy has got me up bright and early again. I wish it was bright. It's pouring with rain - weather to match my mood.

Why we still love weekends

Saint of the day: Ste Audrey
Yesterday's weather: Miserable - 19 degrees, showers and sunshine
Message of the day : Beware the cat with the cobweb face

Funny, isn't it? You'd think that for those of us who are fortunate enough not to have to do the Monday to Friday grind, one day would be much as any other. Strangely, it isn't. We actually enjoy the fact that most people aren't working today and the area takes on a more relaxed feel.

Some of the larger towns have big markets on a Saturday, we might just potter along to one of them some mornings - depending on what time we finish breakfast! We wouldn't dream of doing this in July or August of course (unless we were showing them off to visitors) as that is high tourist season and it is almost impossible to park unless you arrive before 10am. So we have just two more market days before the crowds arrive until September.

Sundays are lovely. There is a unspoken agreement that no-one uses a mower, strimmer, chainsaw or has a bonfire after midday. Even the farmer generally leaves his tractor in the barn on a Sunday but he does pop by to check that the cows are all still in the field. He comes along and counts them before their extended family gather at his house for lunch. At midday everything in the valley goes silent until maybe 3 or 4 pm when people start heading home again and we hear the swish of cars rolling down the hill and off into the distance.

Lofty ambitions

Today we have been looking at the loft again. We are still trying to decide where to put the access, how much work we really want to do in there and what it will be used for. We think we are coming to a sensible compromise (watch this space!). Jon has cleared out the strange aperture which is going to become the only window for the time being. He is currently above my head sawing away to make a fly screen which will hopefully deter any further infestation of flies which then work their way down to the bedroom/study in spring. It is extremely dusty up there, hasn't been cleaned for years, and I suggested we get a couple of dust masks before we clean it deeply.

It is a big space and will make a super room when it is finished but don't expect that too soon as nothing works very fast over here and it is soon August when France closes for the summer holidays - so why start something now? 'Normalement' is a common word in French - normalement something will be done tomorrow, or next week, or even next month but don't expect anything and it may be done eventually.

Figgy came up with us and, of course, couldn't get back down again he eventually managed it by climbing on my shoulder and being carried down the ladder. He is now in the garden clearing off all the cobwebs that were attached to his whiskers (very fetching!).