Back in Blighty!

David came out to France to collect me and the car, and for a meeting with M. Boyer on 22nd October.

We were putting all the things in the house (beds, fridge, tables, clothes, crockery, etc.) upstairs so that when the various new artisans come to give estimates they can see the house (rather than our clutter).

We're also hoping that before next summer work will have started again, so everything needs to be out of the way for that...

Fingers crossed!

I really wasn't ready to come home, even the week David was coming out, until the Friday I was collecting him from the station.

We'd had 2 cold days up to that point, and Friday was another cold miserable day (13°C in the house, and 13½°C outside!).

With the damp I wasn't managing to get any weeding done outside, and there's nothing inside I can really do (cleaned a lot of woodwork, but that will be an ongoing task; removing decades of grease & grime).

So, by Friday evening I was about ready to pack up & come back home.

Which is a good thing - I get terribly grouchy when confined back into a 1-bed flat before I'm ready!

Thankfully, the weather really turned colder whilst we were packing the house away - one night it got down to -1°C in the house, and -1½°C! OK, so that was upstairs, it only dropped to 7 or 8°C dowstairs.

Still, cold enough that staying there had become endurance rather than enjoyment.

Time to retreat!

We stayed in a hotel (heating, bath, bliss!) on the Monday evening, and awoke to a world white over on Tuesday morning.

Not snow, just an incredibly heavy frost.

Yup, definitely time to go!

I'm readjusting to life with light switches.
Catching up with 2 months laundry was fun!

Good job I have so much stuff - 18 loads doesn't average out too badly, when you factor in the several machine-fulls of washing that David had generated for me.

Now we have to go through the dossier that M. Boyer has prepared to check that it includes everything we want doing...

Still concerned about whether we need RSJs to support the mezzanine level, though...

Apparently, French architects are trained to perform structural calculations, so Nicholas should be able to tell us whether steels are needed.

But I'm still worried.

Do I call an English Structural Engineer?

Fried eggs are more environmentally friendly than boiled eggs…

In the interests of taking better care of the planet, I'm thinking of switching to fried egg butties from egg mayo sarnies (as I'm just starting to take some exercise again, and an incentive is sometimes to eat fatty - rather than 'healthy' - food).

Making the egg mayonnaise mix the other day, I got to thinking about power and water usage...

Fried egg: after the pan is hot, 3-4 minutes of electricity is all it takes to get a cooked white/deliciously runny-yolked egg. End of consumption of natural resources. Oil can be reused a couple of times (or if you run a restaurant of the less hygiene-conscious kind, lots of times!), and very little oil is needed anyway.

Boiled egg: it's much quicker to boil water in a kettle than from cold on the electric ring, so I tend to boil the kettle while the ring is heating (same amount of electricity as getting the frying pan hot + kettle boiling juice-usage). Ten minutes makes the perfect boiled egg for egg mayonnaise (don't want a runny yolk - no soldiers here! - nor do I want to achieve the grey-edged, green-tinged yolk that you occasionally come across in professional catering). So that's another 6 or 7 minutes electricity required. Then, you need to cool the eggs quickly, to stop the cooking process, so the cold tap is running for several minutes. Even if you don't leave the tap running and just fill a bowl with cold water, it still warms up surprisingly quickly and needs replenishing a couple of times. Net result: more electricity (especially if you boil the water in the saucepan) and litres of water used (and I'm guessing no-one is going to save that for another couple of eggs a few days later).

My advice: if you want to save the planet, eat fried food!
Does it show that I've been reading Scott Adams?

Japanese Goldfish Emoticon

<°)))><

I'm not sure what emotion a goldfish conveys, but I like the idea of a goldfish emoticon.

Just hope it's not rude!

Hunting/wildlife

The hunting season started late September, and I hear a few shots several times a week, so know that the chasseurs are out there.

I asked one of the neighbours whether it was safe to walk when they are hunting, and she replied that they haven't managed to ban us from walking, but to turn back if you hear the guns; the huntsmen are so intent on the chasse that they will fire on anything that moves!

Thankfully, I've not heard any guns whilst I've been on a walk!

But I did surprise a couple of deer - they bounded off into the wood before I could get close enough to take a photo (from experience, I know my camera's zoom won't make it that far).

They were lucky I wasn't after venison!

We see (what seems to someone used to England) a lot of wildlife round here: red and roe deer, herons, buzzards, other birds of prey (I'm no good at telling them apart - just know that they are incredibly noisy to have round the garden!).

I wonder whether that's because they are so keen on hunting in France that they make proper efforts to preserve wildlife habitat?

Being vegetarian, perhaps I should be against hunting? But I'm not, as long as it is people killing animals that they intend to eat, and killing them cleanly.

Let's not get into why I find it disturbing that some people enjoy the sight of a living animal being ripped apart for fun...!

Changing Seasons

It's getting colder now; definitely feels like Autumn, even on the warmest days, rather than "Indian" Summer.

It was 5°C yesterday when I got up, and 3°C this morning.

Yesterday, when the mist had cleared, the garden was steaming...

I felt as though I lived near a hot spring.

It's too wet to do any gardening (there's no power in the sun to dry the soil, and I don't want to compact it any more than I absolutely have to), but thankfully dry enough to go for a walk.

That's assuming I don't mind the occasional mud-removal stop, which I don't.

So much nicer that the city equivalent: dog-sh!t-removal stop!
The advantage of nice sticky mud is being taller without having to have shoe lifts!

The trees and vines are starting to change colour, and I'm catching a whiff of woodsmoke now and then (and feeling jealous when I do!), and have resorted to wearing my lightly-tinted sunglasses to keep the wind out of my eyes.

I don't want people to think I'm crying when I'm lovin' it!

I LOVE the internet!!

Where else could I get a (free) nostalgia trip as I washed the windows?

Incredible String Band for free!

Cleaning the windows to try and generate some warmth, in case anyone thinks I've gone domesticated!

James Gang, Robin Trower, Joan Baez - I'd forgotten I liked stuff like that...

Remembered I like artists like Nick Drake, Mamas & Papas, Beach Boys, so had quite an entertaining time.

Think I might get an iPod thingy...


Bizarre being able to share my random thoughts, not to mention my sartorial elegance (HeHe), with anyone who might happen across this blog...

Total strangers, friends, alien life?

Doing a blog feels like the broadcasts from I can't remember whom - they broadcast into space in case extraplanetary lifeforms are tuning in (presuming the greys are interested in the ramblings of earthlings!).

Doesn't matter who pays attention, or who doesn't.

I feel I've made the effort to communicate, and that makes me happy!

Happy meandering, all!

[The gear in case anyone is wondering is an effort to get/stay warm in the kitchen.

I could go in the bedroom and light the gas fire...

... but Dominique's lack of care/attention to detail extended to not making any attempt to rodent-proof before insulating the bedroom.

I know the little buggers use the space behind the plasterboard as a playground, but I have a nasty suspicion it has become the final resting place of one of them...

There's enough of a hint of, ahem, "disintegration" that I'm reluctant to sit in there longer than I have to!

I could go to bed with a hottie (water bottle, not top tottie, in case my beloved is reading. HeHeHe!), but 5.30pm seems a little early to give up!]

The internet radio has just stumbled across Shawn Phillips, whom I'm enjoying - is he famous?

Miscellaneous:

When we got back here after going home for a couple of weeks, it felt weird, but in an indefinable way. I couldn't work out what was wrong...

Until David pointed out that the clock wasn’t (or more precisely, the bells weren’t) working. It was almost eerie!

It was a few days before they fixed it, and I really missed it.

We spoke with the neighbour who has some vines at the back of our meadow, but lives in another village, and he said their clock only strikes the hour through the night (not the quarters, nor the hour twice) and they only have the midday and 7pm Angelus.

I suppose that’s what you get when you have Parisian second homers in the village!

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It was down to 5°C at night in early September – a reminder that autumn starts early here. They say that after 15 August, summer is finished.

Last night was down to 4°C, after a day when it was 11°C at midday. Sadly (for those of us who have turned into nesh Southerners!), it was 12°C upstairs & 13°C downstairs in the house.

Not warm enough!

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I’m getting used to driving again. One day, I even enjoyed myself! Mostly it’s still not enjoyable, although I have taken to using fifth gear occasionally!

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I saw gentians whilst out walking near the motorway – I was following a track that doesn’t really lead anywhere, but goes under the motorway & there they were by the side of the “road”.

Lovely!

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Is it just coincidence that the people who throw their food wrappers out of car windows eat rubbish?

I haven't seen a single packet for anything organic, cold-pressed or additive-free!

Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose

We had a reminder of “Old” France the other day – we overtook an old gentleman (in very faded “bleus” & beret) on his Mobylette (itself a rarity these days) pulling a trailer.

I’m sure there are EU laws against that sort of thing! But it was a heartwarming reminder of times gone by in this lovely country.

The “New” France seems well illustrated by my neighbours: after a lot of shouting, one of the children dragged the bin down the drive to the road (50m? 75m?). More shouting, and then the mum drove down to the bin and dumped three (pretty light – I’d have got more than that in one!) sacks of recycling.

I thought she was on her way out somewhere, and was dropping off the bags on her way, but no, she turned round and drove back to the house! They usually wait for the father to visit to get the bin back (he drags it by holding the handle whilst driving up to the house).

Makes me wonder whether I should get the car out to take my compost to the snail pit?

The only problem is the car is in the barn, and I’d have to walk nearly to the snail pits to get it!

Creatures: latest…

Chouette:

We’ve had a visit from the owl in the grenier (feathers, owl pellet & droppings tell a clear story!)…

I had hoped he’d gone elsewhere (especially when I found owl pellets in the barn – quite happy for him to be there), as I’m in the process of cleaning the floor up there.

Frog:

I went to the loo one night, & my eyes had been really watery, so when I came back into the bedroom I was only slightly surprised to see a drop of water by the door.

I didn’t think I could have had a teardrop quite that big, so I had a closer look.

When the “teardrop” blinked at me, I knew I’d have to wipe away the tears properly!

Needless to say, he got turfed out pretty pronto!

[No, it’s not true they turn into princes if you kiss them!]

Bêtes volantes:

I saw a dragonfly – I’d swear he was in camouflage gear, but he was gone too quickly for me to get the camera, so I’ll never know. Pretty impressive size, though.

Brimstone & chalk hill blue (I think) were another couple of butterflies I can add to my list, but probably won’t as they weren’t in the garden, but in the fields behind…

Aoûtats: that’s harvest mites to you & me. Trust me – these chaps are to be avoided!!

You think it's just a cloud of (virtually) colourless little flies, but they carry passengers...

I was in the pharmacy asking whether they had any insect repellent that I could spray on my clothing (they seem to get trapped under waist-bands, bra-straps, knicker-elastic – anywhere it’s constricted – and try to bite their way out!), when an older lady came over to help.

Fortunately she asked all the right questions. My mixture of improvisation & mime is usually successful in communicating what I want, but I didn’t relish doing: “And they lodge under my knicker-elastic and everywhere my bra touches” without knowing the words for “knickers”, “elastic” or “bra”! Underwiring I couldn’t even begin to guess at…

Thankfully, the combination of cooling weather (the only reason I was happy for the temperature to drop), and changing seasons meant that I only had one bite after spraying my clothing with the insecticide.

Next time I work under the trees I will buy the insecticide first!

Birds:

We had a green woodpecker on the damson tree in the garden; almost enough to make me want to keep it…

But then when you think why the woodpecker was so keen (the middle of the tree is rotten & has become an ants’ nest), I still haven’t changed my mind.

M. Lorin says he will come and chop it down in the winter – he doesn’t want to damage too many of my plants, which is sweet of him.

I saw a flight of partridges (well, I think they were) the other day when I went for a walk.

This was prior to the start of the shooting season, mind you!

3 blind mice:

One evening I was enchanted/infuriated by three baby mice (let’s face it, they probably weren’t blind) nervously skittering out from behind a box on the floor.

I’m terribly squeamish about killing things (flies, mosquitoes, slugs & snails I’ve managed to make an exception for, but it took years for me to stop feeling guilty about killing them), so despite their lack of awareness, I didn’t stamp on them…

Next morning when M. Boyer and his daughter (who speaks very good English and came along to translate where necessary) were sitting in the kitchen, I wished I had squished the little buggers…

Completely gone was any timidity – they were scampering across the floor: from the fridge to the shower, round the table, to the front door, back to the table, round M. Boyer’s feet!

My French is nowhere near good enough to say: “I’m really sorry/massively embarrassed by this. I wish I could stamp on the little blighters, but I can’t! No, they are too light for the mousetraps to kill them – see where they have eaten the apricots without setting off the trap?”

We’ve tried poison, but very little interest in that… And I’ve only had an “odd” smell a couple of times… So I think that’s more likely down to natural wastage than the poison working.

Have bought a couple of rattraps, but suspect it’s dormice/garden dormice that we’ve got rather than rats…

Oh, and shrews don’t eat apricots!

The traps have been completely ignored every time my unwelcome visitor has been a shrew…

I don’t know whether they eat walnuts or not…

There was sustained (and irritating) rustling yesterday – enough to stop what I was doing & try and find (and eject) the culprit.

Usually when I get up & go towards the noise that is the signal for silence. This time, however, the shrew in the bag of walnuts wasn’t paying attention! I couldn’t face the prospect of this noise going on until the shrew got bored, so I grabbed the bag and shook it.

I hate killing things I don’t have to (as I’ve mentioned), but that was going to drive me potty! I couldn’t then cope with the thought of a decaying body (however small) in the bag of walnuts, so I had to find it & remove it…

Only I hadn’t killed the shrew, he was still in the bag I was emptying to try and find his corpse!

Tub-trugs are wonderful! I was down to the last few walnuts into the third trug, when the shrew popped out.

Knowing (from experience) that small rodents have sharp teeth, I caught him in my Pyrex jug – and dropped him into the last trug (no chance of him climbing the sides & escaping.

He was re-homed in my pile of rotting wood – plenty of nice insects there to eat, hopefully!

Vanishing brush

I’ve hurt my wrist – throwing a stick for David. Some may say that’s just desserts for leading him a dog’s life, but it wasn’t like that…!

We hired a chipper/shredder for three days, which was too big to fit in the car, so we also hired a trailer.

Given that it was nearly £100 a day for the combo, we were trying to get all the chipping done in time to return the machine on Friday evening.

The money that would save would pay for my (much dreamed of) night in a hotel. And, more importantly, that soak in a bath! So quite an incentive to keep going when we’d had enough.

I was already quite achy from chopping down the trees/pulling up the ivy and hauling all the remains to the piles to be shredded or the compost heap, and after about four hours was getting tired.

I threw the stick, but caught my thumb in the pocket of my boiler suit, so the stick sailed off at right angles, and I jarred my wrist!

David needed the stick to prod into the chipper to clear any leafy residue that would block the machine. [Given that everything was sodden – intermittent, but heavy, rain being order of the day – and that we’d cleared blockages a couple of times, we were keen not to have to poke around the blades another time. Yes, motor turned off, spark plug removed!]

When I was doing the chipping, I just prodded with a long branch to clear leaves and then let that go through the machine, but each to his own.

Needless to say, the Law of Sod was fully operational; we finished the chipping about 15 minutes too late to be sure of getting the chipper back to the hire shop before it closed.

As we’d got so close, David kindly sent me off to have a shower, while he tidied up the fallen leaves and cleaned the chipper as much as possible (without getting out the power washer). We also loaded the chipper back onto the trailer to be able to get going early the next day.

In a way, it worked out in our favour: the nice man in the hire shop only charged us two days hire (it was one of those “could go either way” choices – we’d been told the machine would be available after 10.30 on the Thursday, so we did have it a little less than 2 days, but we were returning it on day 3...); we visited the depot vente and bought three flat irons for less than a tenner; we got to have lunch out in Troyes.

So, no complaints then!

And it looked lovely when we got back to a clean tidy drive/garden.