Pottery

A new term for teaching and learning has begun: there was a 6 hour pottery day, which really is 4 hours split by a 2 hour French lunch!
How amazing that 4 people can donate their contribution creating sufficient for 8 or more! Where was the unexpected guest? In fact there were 5 of us, because a friend of a friend also arrived but I think he also bought tomatoes.The assiette looked  attractive with the tabbouleh, potato and egg salad, home-produced tomatoes (two varieties) and lettuce and my contribution of the raw vegetable/fruit salad as mentioned in my poetry of yesterday.  In addition there were pork products and baguette but I don't eat those.

There for afters was my very yummy French scone, baked with the last of my French black cherry confiture, rather overfilled but the jar was emptied! It amused me to serve an English scone, called a French scone. Ha!

I was so absorbed in concentration whilst making two clay flower heads that I forgot to take a photo. It will appear here maybe at the end of October when the biscuit clay has been fired and then refired with glaze.  I didn't have time to glaze the flower I created in June!

Hope

One always needs to see
HOPE in LIFE
as much as possible
for truly
it is often hidden in small gems
just around the corner
out of view
waiting only to be recognised.

I love
rime, rhythm, rhyme,
thyme, time
again
when to create pleasure
I choose and use the flavour
of walnut oil and lemon
roasted seeds of fennel
basil leaves or any herbs
plus crumbled hard goats' cheese
in a mixed raw salad
of beetroot, carrot, celeriac
with slivers of William pear,
It' s a treat to eat and share.

Hoping someone will be there
even if only me.

© RestlessinFrance

Look after the hat and a house will look after itself

Without discussing every detail, first of all the postponement and now the cancellation of the roof repair and replacement is perhaps a blessing in disguise!  It should have been the first project when I bought this house but it was delayed. Apart from everything else that happened when I bought my house, the research to have it repaired is not as easy as it seems.
But then, I seem to not have a simple life. It often becomes complicated!!!!!!!
Now, I am thrown back into the cauldron of research and having to decide what to do about my roof!   It needs repair and the valley between the two roofs is urgently requiring attention!
It's a mansard roof but only half of one with no flat roof.  Common in this area. Evidently, the pitch is insufficient for terracotta flat tiles which currently exist.  But I was going to ignore this fact and replace the flat tiles. I think too many of them are broken and / or fragile and more replacements than at first thought will be required.   So that in itself may cause the price to rise! Technical information indicates that the pitch of the roof and the direction of the wind are important when choosing the roof material. I don't wish to have the rear wall built up higher.  It seems to me that most roofs of this shape are slated but sometimes they have the top part (terrasson) in one material and the brisis in another. I'm almost sure I do not wish to have two types of tiling on the roof.
I think slate will look pretty providing it is high or medium quality slate and is nailed!
The timbers of the current roof frame are bent; cracked under the weight of wet tiles. Rafters are a mixture of pine and poplar indicating patched repair in previous years.
Then there is the matter of the guttering position on the façade which at the moment is incorrect and plastic pipes must be replaced by zinc guttering.
So, back to the planning stage, studying estimates, researching and learning,  plus having to reapply to the Architect de Batiments de France with whom on Thursday I had an hour long conversation about the perceived visual and heritage issues, although I do have official permission to repair!!!!!!!  Residents must have an opportunity to say nay or yay to ardoise tiles if that is what I have changed the plans to!   It seems it will not be done this side of winter!! Aaaarrgh!
I ask too many questions and some artisans do not like this!!!!!! They are of course the experts and I am, by and large totally ignorant, and would not be in the building game for all the tea in China, but I know what I like, though the wallet is almost empty! 

It is my nature to find out as much as I can in order to make an informed choice. I think every client should be able to discuss the detail of a job, until they feel comfortable with their employment of the artisan.

I look roofwards wherever I go in France... to see if I can find a roof edging like mine...... not even the Architect was familiar with this method of finishing the eaves.

 

Evidently it should be more like this: 

This next roof is set back further along the street.

I think it is quite pretty with the same shaped roof structure.

So maybe that is my answer. 

Prelude à L'après-midi d'un faune

At the concert I recently attended where two pianists played a transcription of the orchestral piece Prelude à L'après-midi d'un faune by Claude Debussy 1862-1918), a French Impressionistic composer, we also, beforehand, listened to the poem of Stephane Mallarmé (1842-1898) L'après-midi d'un faune (1865/7) which had inspired that music.  This poem is about a faun who whilst alone in woodlands plays his pan-pipes.  Interested in the nymphs and naiads, he follows them, eventually sadly realising that he is rejected, so returns to dream of them whilst asleep.
Whilst the poem was read aloud we watched the following video of Nureyev performing the choreography by Nijinsky who performed the ballet in 1912 which had been inspired by the poetry and the music.

 

Then of course there was the new modern version by dearest Freddie Mercury of Queen when in 1984 he dances the role of the faun, supported by the Royal Ballet, as he sings I want to Break Free.  

Wonderful History of The Arts!

A lot of controversy over the years!

Irons not in the fire

I can't believe I've walked past irons in panes of glass at least more than 100 times and never seen them!  Must develop better observational skills!
I wonder why this pattern was created. 
Since then I saw another iron pattern .. must re-locate it as I didn't have the camera with me! 

Yesterday

A storm brew up in the evening

after a chilly morning 

with an afternoon temperature recorded at 31C.

 A tempest so they said

in Bonneuil Matours, 

where two pianists played

Debussy: "La Mer" the third movement being  

The Dialogue of the Wind and the Sea

but still no rain where I live.

All about, the sky was different.

Whichever way one turned

the wind was blowing

fresh and warm.

A newly tumbled dessicated tree stood sadly in a field 

as the storm with thunder and lightning rumbled on its journey 

whilst a moon in its first quarter shone brightly.

Stone
invited me to sit down,

made for just my size,
invited eyes to look before me,
at a bridge above a river
to watch English empty barque of water,
whereupon
five people boarded,
rowed
laden, towards a weir,
walked across a dam
laughing, loudly speaking
as English often do.
On an island,

first Sunday August,
if early enough
to bag one's place,
spectacular fireworks can be seen
in an hour of an evening
from the very best espace.

Interesting!

I'd elected to go to the market. Parked my car. Looked back. Looked again. 

Laughed. Camera emerged from bag!

Priests? Choristers? Perhaps the latter!

Returning from Brittany

where skies were often overcast I returned to my own region where at 7pm it was still 25C according to Pharmacy green crosses not far from here. But the following day, the temperature plummetted. I cannot crow about warmth as we head towards the final weeks of September.

With loads to tell, though probably to reduce any indulgence, I must only savour the memory of art galleries celebrating Gauguin and those American and Parisian artists who were influenced by his style.  I understand that Gaugin told them that if it looks green, then paint it green.  If only my attempts at art could be so defined!  The history / geography of how artists, fishermen and peoples of Cornouaille and Cornwall were interconnected, was difficult to absorb.   Previously, I had thought these the same region.
It was wonderful to see ocean, though not the furthest West, even though the warm rain won. Lovely to be near numerous river scenes with harbours and fortified villages within ramparts whilst I glimpsed a fraction of the wealth of vistas.  It was just a few days to see new places but I loved to see the sea, rocks covered in cockles in stunning light. All this confuses thinking about where I should be and why! or where I would like to be and why!
Les Jardins du Botrain was remarkable for the different gardens within a garden and the sculptures therein.  My favourite was a Japanese garden. My cousin will be able to visit in different seasons.

It's a little Japanese fisherman.

Fortunately. you cannot see behind the hedge and to the left.

Rare 18th century Ruchers - to hold bee hives.

Textured stones create a focal point for metalwork and meditation

Giant rhubarb is what I call it!

Venus fly traps

The Spiral Triskele

 We visited

 where sailing vessels tinkled on the river,

 and Goose wished to be fed baguette.

Quimper, Port-Aven, Concarneau, parts of the Nantes-Brest Canal were enjoyed and on the return journey I stopped at St Maire du Mer for a picnic on the sand, then Pornic for an Italian ice cream! 

France is so huge with Brittany to the West. The coastline doubles and loops back on itself creating havens for people, flora et fauna, salt marshes, defence fortifications as well as a myriad of things too long too list! And I still have not yet seen the pink granite.

Two years ago

A tale from September 10, 2010

As she scraped up the cork effect vinyl flooring which had rested there for 25 years, she knew she was causing RSI in her piano playing wrists. Alternating hands scraped to lever linoleum to reduce strain.  She knew that soon she would have to stop and change activity. Her mind pondered on a muddle of matters. The brain-voice chattered, on and on and on, about all sorts of things.  She began to wonder if other brains do this.

Thoughts are like people boarding a train at a station.  The train draws up to the platform and stops. People get off.  People get on. Thoughts arrive into and depart out of the brain.  In the mind they chatter on unless interrupted. The train continues its journey, just as the mid does. She tries to train the thoughts to go another journey and not to board the train and to board her mind!

She began to hear her inner voice talking incessantly about everything, except the about-to-happen priorities.  She was certain that emotion and mind got in the way of the NOW, the PRESENT, the CURRENT.  However, these thinkings or thoughts WERE her own needs and therefore Priorities to her,  even though not related to the task in hand or what was going on in other parts of her house.  Sometimes those happenings in another room blurted into her brain and caused her to respond with action.  Someone was asking for attention, for assistance, or whatever!  The voice would intrude into her mind and not actually say “Jump”, but SHE would have to say to herself "JUMP" because the other voice, the not-her-own-voice was demanding HER.  She needed to wake from her reverie, from her reflections, from her thoughts, those which pulled towards attempting to heal her inner soul.
Those which conundrums existing in her head were perhaps not part of the real reality. She tried to resolve the difficulties.
But how could she? In reality. Tread on eggshells. Jump hurdles. Meet the needs.

If there were to be music maybe any internal chatter would stop.

The room in which she was working and the whole house exude quietness and peacefulness, except for the clink of the scraping tools and an electrical sander in another room. Yes, it was as if this house needs her to be calm..... CALM...........

She is tired, very tired WITH renovating and OF renovating.
How did she arrive here?

On a different day or a different moment she will be excited.
She will be glad to have her house finished and habitable or even one step nearer towards that day! She will be happy to fight against what apparently seems to be the impossible and achieve Paradise even within this Hell that abounds.

Hence a muddle… a confusion - not knowing what she wants or how to solve dilemmas.

It’s hard work.  Relentless.  Restless in France.

She looks at the two seas of flooring lifted and flooring glued to the ground and desperately finds reasons to raise herself, up from her knees on concrete, to every now and then do something different.
To sweep, or gather the floored shapes and bin them, to look at the clock, to take a tea break, tp remember something to make a note of, in order to create sense out of chaos.

Eventually after several days, nay weeks, trying to develop a technique to rid the house of  flooring material strongly glued to  house floor, now crumbled like flour in places, only paper and glue are left.

He intends to grind it off with the ‘ponceuse’... the electrical grinder!
It is heavy and a beast to back injuries. She feels for him.
Garbed with ear defenders, mouth masks, woolly hats and work gear, he and she.
Noise, dust and an acrid smell of metal on concrete, paper and glue exude to fill the room as the grinder deafeningly screams at the floor and a huge waft of a cloud of dust fills the air, even though the doors are wide open.

Hee hee,  maybe, in another 25 years, someone will be cursing her for the floor that she will glue down!   (Post script: Excepting that the oak floor was secret-screwed and never glued.)

Whoopee!  Removed!  Celebrate? Oh no!  Continue to Clear is the next process.  Then to level the concrete floor with 'ragreage' or levelling compound. 
She should be joyous but depression leaves her flat.
She tries try to rise above the darkness, the depth and tiredness, taking vitamins B and B6, Co-enzyme Q10, Rhodiola (Arctic Root) and also she knows the anti-depressants are raging, adding ti the depressional vaguaries.
Struggling above a surface of support, she lifts herself to an upright position off the floor, to tell herself to get on with it!   IT being the next task.
She should feel glad that she will be able to do something different on the next of these renovation days.
Were those days any better than the days of anxiety when she could justabout search for a house to buy? All the days when she knew something was desperately wrong  not knowing how to solve the bizarre oppositional dilemma without losing her dream.

Restless in France wanted to be free from muddled anxiety and free to live. But her work in life was to become what she is doing. There is and was no escape.  She has responsibilities.  She is the caretaker of a French maison.

Back to thoughts to make her cry, to make her laugh, to make her ponder as she struggles to let them pass.  For thoughts make the anxiety and if she could let t go she would have nothing to worry about!!!!!!!

This tale is the end of those few hours on that day two years ago! 

The French are Funny

When I set off on the road bike I noticed that the front wheel direction did not align with the handlebars. Something was not quite right and I didn't have the tool to fix it.  Cycling the hybrid bike which I have not ridden for over a year,  I  flew easily through the village and began the long steep run up the hill nearby the exhibition building of the Magdalennien frieze.  One man from the group approaching,  says "PUSH PUSH" in French of course,  as I come to a halt, uncertain of whether my gears were the same as my other bike. The last rider, my daughter had left it in the lowest gear anyway!  Horrified to hear the whole group of about 15 people saying "POUSSE, POUSSE" I mounted quickly to press the pedals and get going.  Then it was so funny, as one person started to actually push me faster and faster and they and I were all laughing in such FUN!
Now, I don't think the English senior citizens would do that!!!!!!

An understanding of self-sabotage

Procrastination, a form of self-sabotage which I have been a master or a mistress of for some time has blighted my inaction and lazy day syndrome as I busy myself with less prioritised tasks.  I have been increasingly unhappy and ashamed that this situation exists in my life when I think it has got worse over the last several years.   I have read that people struggle with procrastination because they are not living life in the now and not living it in the way it’s meant to be lived. 

My source of information suggest that one has to go with the flow of  life. Hm?  Well, yes, actually I have been trying to live life more like that especially in the last two years.  When it does not flow, I know that I really do struggle not just with procrastination but with an imbalance of thoughts and emotions.  It is suggested that people should believe they can have what they want.  Well, I would always agree with that. However,  I have being learning about this more and more in the last two years and I do believe 'The Law of Attraction' exists.  It is true that I have been seeking an easier daily life (doesn't always happen) and I have been seeking an easier relationship with my friends (again, it aint easy)  I am lucky that I've nearly always experienced good health,  although I know I could work more on personal fitness.  My stamina levels are not strong.

Struggle occurs when you want one thing and one's true beliefs go against the flow of life. So the subconscious has to be tapped into using:
1. affirmations (things one says)
Choose something one would wish for and reaffirm it in the present tense as an I am or an I have.
2. visualizations (things one imagines) 
Imagine being successful with something one dreams of. I am able to......

So maybe I'd better start... JUST START!! Just DO IT!! and move away from this computer!

Mouse Trap Game

I am reminded that recently I passed on my daughter's treasured game of MOUSETRAP to my granddaughter but she was expecting the modern  battery operated version! So we talked about HISTORY starting with "When mummy was a little girl and when Grand ma was a little girl there weren't many toys with batteries and at that time MOUSETRAP was made like this! ..."
She was unimpressed!  We never played the game as intended... for the game was slow to build if you threw a dice and took a piece each time... we just used to build the construction, then race the mice!
We were only one vital piece missing, the spring, but my daughter found one in a pen!

Mouse no. 2

It had a little friend 

who also met its end! 

Should I laugh
when in the bath
I caught a thought
that
I can't be squeamish
When a little peevish.
I can't be amorous
when there's more than one mouseamus
mus musculus in my old stone houseamus.
Poor little mite, because
it didn't have a speedy loss
of life like its friend
but bait number 3 is set for another end.
It's really not a laugh!

Belated Happy Birthday

on 5th September 2012 as my blog reaches it's first birthday. 
I have actually written this on 19th September 2012!

I have kept this blog fairly private even though it's in the public domain. This has been for reasons of cautiousness, protecting a friendship, and my insecurities. Here though I have found within a space a place where creativity can unfold and heal the past whilst I confront the present and the future. It is where, within a certain anonymity, I can feel brave enough to record a diary of events.  I can challenge and correct a mild dyslexia using word processing combined with visual book style presentation.
I know that I find the public sharing of my life a difficult one.
With my previous blog I had an alias which I continue to this day.  I like it very much.
I rarely had my profile on that blog.
I am not  fan of Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn, etc where I have to share my real name and statistics!
But here I can be RestlessinFrance!!!!!!!

Homage to a Mouse

I am sorry little mouse

that I killed you in my house

In truth I had no choice

For you had no human voice

To tell me you were sorry and were alone like me

Far from all your friends and mousey amity.

Possibly you knew

that your shelter in the wall

was doomed to meet your fall.

I truly am most sorry pretty little mouse

That I had this deed to do in my lovely old stone house

To hear the trap snap shut

Whilst your precious life was cut

‘Twas the end of mousey company

With your small sweet face staring up at me.

I saw your body throbbing

It made me shed a tear

For YOU never had much fear.

You were a brave and sturdy mouse

Friendly it is true.

Now I hope that in my house

There isn’t another mus musculus mouse like you.
Je suis desolée. 

It was Day 5 of Mousey living in my house and today I bought new smaller traps with bright shiny metal parts and a packet of mouse paste in paper sachets. I hadn't seen these before.  
A sad evening! 

Sturdy Mouse

Next day     Eeeeeeeeeeek!!!!!   

Mus musculus hasn't popped its clogs!!!!!!
The battle continues to be fought!
I declare it is the same mouse and it will have to go clip clippety clop and hop it! 

I'd heard sounds with no sighting, then screamed slightly as it/he/she surprised me earlier than anticipated this evening, as it scampered across the floor.  It scurried to the ledge behind the wall under the sink cupboard which has no door₁. I've removed all the gubbins so I can see where it goes!  Whilst I ws out all day it touched the bait, making several piles of seeds across the floor.  Maybe not to his taste. He would prefer Cheddar!

I have a bucket, a slippery-sloped, wooden runway reaching from the floor to the opening of the bucket, plus a gardener's kneeling pad as a not-so-steep runway, (better to get its claws into), where the humane trap is perched with peanuts inside, ready to topple into the bucket, when the little mouse with clogs on weighs in! The theory is that it will not be able to leap out of the orange B&Q bucket, which I recommend are the best unlidded buckets in the world! 
Footnote ₁     
There now exists a very good reason to instal a modern kitchen sooner rather than later. Cupboards and drawers that cannot be accessed by mice and spiders are a necessity! 

Of Mice and Men

Steinbeck wrote a brilliant story but perhaps Robert Burns should be respected for his contribution to my post title.

Yesterday I was tired of mouse.

In the morning the good news was that I found my granddaughters's lost toy cat wedged between the wall and the iron bedstead where she had wanted to share with gran'maman on the last two nights of her stay.  How sweet!!! We did 'top and tail' like I used to do with my sister when we stayed at my nanny's house when I was little! She liked to have her feet stroked!

Now, I need a real cat.

A few days ago as I sat in the kitchen I saw the "sweet little mouse" (give me a sugar mouse) run across the courtyard into the grand salon.  Whoosh, it was in!  I managed to shoo it out immediately...but creatures of habit it ventured in again, when it would not oblige to be caught or go out of the door. It then played hide and seek with me as it ran around the grand salon!  I thought I'd blockaded it into that room by closing all the doors, when a few days later I saw it scamper across my kitchen floor one metre away from me, as I sat, quiet as a mouse, looking at the internet! I was convinced it was the same one!
This morning I heard a new noise in my kitchen as i silently sat. I tracked it down to a kind of nibbling by the side of the fridge. As I stood there listening, my foot involuntarily kicked the side of the cabinets, after the noise had stopped.  Later, being concerned and feeling silly because I should have taken action a few days ago, even though I thought that this room, a laundry-cum-larder had absolutely no holes at ground level or indeed anywhere.  Nevertheless I started to investigate.  I opened the buanderie door and there were the nibblings ... it had eaten the plastic sheeting below the kitchen floor tiles.  A small finger sized hole was there, so I mixed up some cement and scraped it into the hole.  This part of the wall was revealed when we had to remove the wooden panels from the disgustingly, awful room to make it serviceable. There is a step down from the kitchen to the laundry/larder.  Although my friend had roughly and temporarily sealed this skirting board type area it had never been completely finished on account of the door butting up to it AND because I was waiting to see what improvements I would make to the kitchen floor. If you have ever renovated then out of view is out of mind!!!!   
After two hours I am tired of mouse!  VERY tired because  one thing leads to another.
The mouse has travelled through the tunnel of a grey plastic pipe carrying the copper water pipe to the washing machine and boier, where, on the other side of the wall, which is about 60cm thick,  it has nibbled at the plaster and/or polystyrene in the wall to make an entry into the larder!  It is a tiny finger sized hole in the corner of the room behind the copper pipes.  So, I have stuffed the hole with aluminium foil, as the hole is awkwardly positioned and why it has no plaster in it!  Mice evidently don't like aluminium!  On the kitchen side I stuffed the grey plastic pipe with more aluminium foil.
Not only that, I removed the base boards of the hideous kitchen units, vacuumed and mopped whatever rubble, spider webs and grunge has been under there since before I moved in.  I checked that there was no food there!  The plastic legs look better and more IKEA style (haha) and now little mouse can't run back in for safety... 'cos that's where I saw he went!!!
Then  I checked my flour.  Fortunately, it is untouched, BUT the little *&$$%*  has nibbled my pat biscuits!!! 

That's it .... open warfare prevails

The mouse trap is set! No more Mrs Nice Lady with only the humane rescue trap I bought this morning to capture it and set it free 10 miles away.  Oh no!  Now it's the French guillotine and French mouse bait!  I realise mice are classed as vermin, carrying disease. 
Normally, I have rescued many a shrew or mouse in my hands from the claws of Big Feet and Little Feet, queens in the feline world!  It is kind to rescue a living creature, but now I'm aware that it/he/her could be anywhere along the polystyrene backed plasterboard forming my interior walls, chewing away.....I hope it gets constipation and starves to death!!!!!!!
About 19h 30 / 20h I watched Houdini mouse go in and out of the humane mouse trap collecting peanuts in butter and a piece of ham. I hope it chokes! And still I think it's cute!

The following day becomes Warfare day!    
1. I emptied drawers and washed the cutlery that was in one drawer as mouse has been eating the plastic straws!

2. I put mouse bait on pieces of aluminium foil in the kitchen, laundry room, grand salon and courtyard as I am not sure if I have one or many!  
3. Plus there is an inhumane wooden Lucifer mouse trap set with a piece of cheese!
As I edit this posting, it, that is, THE MOUSE, has stolen the cheese from the trap despite the fact that it was LOADED. 
AND SO....
4. I have removed the trap from the floor and left the poison bait, which it has been nibbling as scattered seeds have been disturbed from the aluminium tray.

I am watching it this very moment and have taken snaps!  Pity it didn't snap into the trap so I could release it 10 miles away!  Hopefully it will die! I am letting it have a good feast as I finish this posting.  Meanwhile I am unable to prepare my own evening meal. Better for Mouse to have a feast and for me to go hungry!

Earlier this evening.
Whilst on the telephone, I heard tinkerings in the bedroom wall so after the call, I took off one sandal, used the upper surface, (last time I used the sole creating dusty foot prints over the paintwork), and thwacked the wall, so much so that plaster has fallen off the wall.  Whatever was there is eating or moving the polystyrene backed plasterboard.  My advice would be not to use that!!!!! but it was here when I bought the house and the stone walls were drylined in 1985.
If it is a foine they do not like noise so it had better scamper elsewhere before it hibernates. 
I heard it last Autumn and in the Spring!
If it is a mouse it had better scoot quickly to the mouse bait or traps.

MICE DEBATE: Is it better to kill, rescue or transport a mouse to another habitat? 

A Tale of Two Duvets

Today is the day when duvets will be cleaned at the launderette as a treat because although they are not dirty as such they have not been cleaned for more years than I would like to confess.  This has been for a number of reasons,  too lengthy to mention.  However, with a second comfortable bed with its own duvet in another room and with warm weather forecast for the next few days, it’s time for transporting two bulky luxury king size feather duvets.

I had already discovered that at the launderette in the larger town, 30km journey, the cleaning of one duvet would cost me 32e, Nearer , 7km journey, it would cost about 26e. Without procrastination, I head to the launderette at a nearby market town, 8km, because in the past I received courteous and helpful service. Being petrol conscious, the drive could incorporate a visit to the market to purchase vegetables, fruit and fish because I am TRYING to keep to a diet.

On arrival, I enquire cheerfully about the price and am told 40 euros per duvet.  Oh dear! With an um and ah I decide to go ahead, even though, perhaps, I could buy a new one, appreciatively lesser quality, for a little more than 80 euros!  He is going to wash the duvet rather than chemically clean it and is telling me that the feathers will bulk together. I understand!  I ask him why he is not going to chemically clean it ... but I do not fully understand, yet he says it would still be wet. Then having filled in his form and taken my name I ask when they will be ready.  I have not yet paid!  He announced September 15^th, which is in 20 days!!!!!!!  I exclaim that this is far too long as I am expecting visitors and the weather might change but NO… the monsieur is not for turning!  I decide this is an unacceptable period for an unacceptable amount and tell him nicely that it is not possible and go to gather up my duvets.  As I do this, he surprises me. He BANGS his hands down on the counter and screws up his form, throwing it across the room behind him!  I quietly say “Ooh la la monsieur, Ooh la la”. As I exit the door I call breezily “Bon journée.”  
What amazed me is that:

Le monsieur was working at his crossword page when I arrived and clearly was not pressed at Le Pressing!  

What is it about a very teeny, tiny proportion of French people who appear to not wish to accommodate a service for their business!!!!!!!!

This happened with a local restaurant recently. We arrived at 20h30 and were refused service because although they were only three people, they had been working since 8am, were tired, plus the proprietress said they had run out of food as it is almost the end of the season and close at 21h!   It is still hottest August!!!!  However, at least they sold a take away pizza as this seems to be about all my 4 year old grand daughter who rarely sleeps wanted to eat!!!!!!!! 

At that restaurant I expressed surprise, saying that I thought custom is important for the survival of a business!  We would have spent at least 60 euros but it was their loss and ours too!
I made an omelette! 
LESSON OF THE DAY
In our region of France decide to eat earlier in the evening and book a table!  I know that but it was difficult to impress my family with this idea. Now they know!

A Festival of Books, Paper and Paraphernalia