Again there are concerts at Bonneuil-Matours. This year I paid 15e subscription which entitles me to pay 15e for each concert instead of 22e. I thought I was vieillese at 7e ... Maybe I have that wrong! I am still young! I will have to ask discreetly of the proprietor of the chateau and organiser of these wonderful concerts! Sometimes I am very happy to pay full price.
Last evening was a marathon concert of the 2nd book of 48 Preludes and Fugues by JS BACH. The pianist played two clavichords as well as piano. The clavichord is remarkably quiet and one imagined being in a tiny drawing room heavily curtained against a cold draught, with friends and family gathered around to listen or to play their turn or to be accompanied in song or other instrument. The loudness of the piano was extreme after one's ears had become atuned to the delicate sound, akin to a hand held music box with a handle that turns ... a tinny sound!
I took my piano score. I heard this pianist play the 1st book. He played in order 1st, 2nd, 3rd on the piano, but last evening he played the second 24 in random order which kept me on my toes to find the correct prelude and fugue by listening to / reading the opening bars on the contents page ... with little light it was tricky. I realised I am well out of practice to score reading. I remembered we had to read symphonic scores at secondary school and prove to the teacher the progress of the music by running our finger along the score.
A few of the pieces I knew as I have attempted to play them. They are not easy. The pianist had good concentration, stamina, technique and ability. A lecturer and teacher. Kindly and humble.
In the break we were offered a bowl of tomato soup... nice! I was reminded that I haven't had Heinz Tomato soup for years! It was French and tomatoes were difficult to identify! There was also Chinese tea.. which tasted of licorice and maybe ginger but it was very weak...plus little pieces of the local biscuit Broyé. I sampled the wine from a 2 litre bottle of Lussac St Emilion 2003... hm 'un peu vinaigré'... but it was better once I'd warmed it up in my chilly hands! I left before the encore as I was tired and I'd had a traumatic day ... it had been three and a half hours since I arrived at 19h. Drove home, with only one car sighted travelling in the opposite direction!
My lawnmower has been repaired< The facture wasn't ready for payment so he said he would send it in the post. This is most unusual in France but he said he trusts me! The mower is about to launch into its 4th season and every winter I have paid about 85e for a service... the first year and last it hit stones so it needed the blade to be sharpened. In the first year the lawn was newly growing or cut down from 3 feet of growth... and last year the moles were very bad at throwing up a lot of stone. BUT this year I have had to have the more expensive service with a change of filter and new accelerator cable. I was ready for battle if he charges me for the latter!!! It only mows about 500m2 each 7 to 14 days in the cutting season so I don't understand why it has been so needy!!!!! The specialist shop where I bought it, has taken six weeks to repair it. I would have liked it last week when the grass was dry and before that I was not well enough but the French aren't very quick with their turnarounds and business! When I phoned on Thursday I was told it had just been finished! It is a John Deere machine. I think it was a Friday afternoon machine! Hey ho and off to mow as soon as the weather improves.
This year at the end of my other terrain there is a heavy perfume from swathes of violets. They haven't been there before. Maybe they have liked the grass kept short over the last five years. I try to keep it manageable. My neighbour was impressed by their appearance. I ought to spend more time down there in the evening as the garden bathes for longer in the setting sun than does my courtyard!
Sunday 22 March 2015
Saturday 21 March 2015
Book Review: A Change of Climate
by Hilary Mantel. 1994. This is a personal viewpoint. Found in the books boxed in the attic, I chose to read it for its North Norfolk setting.
It's an interesting tale of two, who linked to 'the family firm', decide to be 'sort-of missionaries' in South Africa and then fall foul of the politics in the 1960s. Rather than flee homeward they have another 'go' to help others in a different culture to their own and it becomes tragic. The chronology of the plot jumps about but events fell into place in my head at the end of chapter 7. A few more twists to the tale and it ends with unanswered questions as do many a good novel! It is a story of love, marriage, family, loss, bereavement, injustices, the weak, frail and misguided, the loyal, committed and persistent. Recommended.
It's an interesting tale of two, who linked to 'the family firm', decide to be 'sort-of missionaries' in South Africa and then fall foul of the politics in the 1960s. Rather than flee homeward they have another 'go' to help others in a different culture to their own and it becomes tragic. The chronology of the plot jumps about but events fell into place in my head at the end of chapter 7. A few more twists to the tale and it ends with unanswered questions as do many a good novel! It is a story of love, marriage, family, loss, bereavement, injustices, the weak, frail and misguided, the loyal, committed and persistent. Recommended.
Friday 20 March 2015
Book Review: A Street Cat Named Bob
by James Bowen. 2012. Borrowed from my daughter.
It is a true story about how one man and his cat found HOPE on the Streets of London. Each cat has its own personality and can be quite individual; they choose their servants and are usually incrredibly loyal. Bob is a blessing and helps 'healing' in more ways than one when he arrives in friendship. They provide reciprocal support. Bob needs to be looked after and gives James the need to care. It is a basic human need. Eventually, even though James had tried to cease his addictions, Bob the Cat gives him 'un raison d'être', a reason to live LIFE. He encounters difficulties... well you would walking a cat through London. There are two more books and there is much online. It's such a HAPPY STORY! A Beautiful Story of HOPE when people or cats are down on the luck.. and currently still devoted friends!
My Big Feet is now 13 but she used to walk miles and was and is still quite traffic savvy. She used to regularly cross a busy street, trot across the pedestrian pavement of the bridge as she knew that was safer, cross the road again to get to The Common where she would hunt rabbits or moles and bring them home! She has also followed my partner and I on two mile walks, even noting the two foxes playing their love dance in the field. She has also travelled with a harness.
It is a true story about how one man and his cat found HOPE on the Streets of London. Each cat has its own personality and can be quite individual; they choose their servants and are usually incrredibly loyal. Bob is a blessing and helps 'healing' in more ways than one when he arrives in friendship. They provide reciprocal support. Bob needs to be looked after and gives James the need to care. It is a basic human need. Eventually, even though James had tried to cease his addictions, Bob the Cat gives him 'un raison d'être', a reason to live LIFE. He encounters difficulties... well you would walking a cat through London. There are two more books and there is much online. It's such a HAPPY STORY! A Beautiful Story of HOPE when people or cats are down on the luck.. and currently still devoted friends!
My Big Feet is now 13 but she used to walk miles and was and is still quite traffic savvy. She used to regularly cross a busy street, trot across the pedestrian pavement of the bridge as she knew that was safer, cross the road again to get to The Common where she would hunt rabbits or moles and bring them home! She has also followed my partner and I on two mile walks, even noting the two foxes playing their love dance in the field. She has also travelled with a harness.
Monday 16 March 2015
Deadbeat bore!
Whilst listening to the radio I discovered that I am a 'deadbeat' because I rarely incur interest charges on my credit card thus don't provide revenue for banks and the levels of National Debt.
That same day I read that I am a 'bore'.
I also prefer to have a hard copy facture rather than an efacture (invoice).
I don't wish to sign up to apps where I don't have the music in my hands.
I would like to lean more towards handwritten letters to avoid this world of instant email gratification (which I also have become used to) ... but postal charges are high and sometimes if one includes a gift the packet may not be of the correct dimensions!
On another radio programme I heard about the average house has 70 items linked to the WWW!!! Oh, I am well below the average!
What happens when the computer systems crash? What happens when society crashes? CHAOS! What happens to those people who do not own computerised equipment.
Maybe I am akin to a 'Luddite'!
That same day I read that I am a 'bore'.
Jessica Reed in the Guardian was writing about linguistic changes.
"Pellerin’s supporters ... quick to remind us that languages are not monuments – they’re living, breathing systems and, above all, they’re tools for communication. As a result, they constantly evolve – and all those bores whining about the good olde days sound like retirees who still insist on paying their bills by snail mail, with a handwritten cheque."That same day I was not permitted to write a cheque for the car service and repair. Card only or Cash! At one time I used to pay cash rather than making out a French cheque. Now having progressed a further stage I have to ditch the cheque book. BORING!!
I also prefer to have a hard copy facture rather than an efacture (invoice).
I don't wish to sign up to apps where I don't have the music in my hands.
I would like to lean more towards handwritten letters to avoid this world of instant email gratification (which I also have become used to) ... but postal charges are high and sometimes if one includes a gift the packet may not be of the correct dimensions!
On another radio programme I heard about the average house has 70 items linked to the WWW!!! Oh, I am well below the average!
What happens when the computer systems crash? What happens when society crashes? CHAOS! What happens to those people who do not own computerised equipment.
Maybe I am akin to a 'Luddite'!
Saturday 14 March 2015
Violets
This week I am determined to do a morning and evening walk after having lived in almost closed orders! The walks are very leisurely. Bimbling even! There is a little black and white pony in the field that was recently sold. The big GREAT DANE sort of dog seemed playful in his HUGE garden but I am glad he was behind wire fencing...although at one time I thought he was surely able to scale it! Descending down the lane I came upon a beautiful heavy smell and stepped back to identify.. inhale the scent.. deep, melodious, heavy, fleetingly it escapes to return in the nostrils....
And as my mind made the connection with those sweet sugary drops that aunties used to have in their pocket, I saw their purple hue.... violet violets. Later I spied yellow celandines.
Nice to speak French to a stranger and English to an American.
I am beginning to be less 'off the wall'. Is there any hope?
Postscript:
But that was all written a week ago because I push postings forwards. The walks dd not materialise after the good start to the week when I concentrated all Monday, was proactive and clear several piles of "things to achieve"! OK there is more which has stacked up for quite a while... but I am tidying it!!! After a Yoga morning where I had to use muscles `i did not know I had, I idled over copious quantities of tea with a gardener who will help me finish the courtyard project. The larch will go. Thanks Tim for your help on this disturbing decision. Then the GP, bank, Tours sadness, IKEA visit to check out kitchens, a car service and thank goodness the electrics on the remorque are repaired. The bill was within my estimate. No electricity this morning bu then on my frequent search in the street for a helpful resident, the neighbour chez lui only for the weekend turned off all the trip switches until we found the culprit. The steam from the kettle hits the cupboard above, then condenses to the wall prise. Depressed, I rallied to a bath and drove to a plant sale, where plants were 25% more than Leclerc yesterday or so listless one would not have wished to own them! Then I did a walk and now my head feels better! The death of an expat has haunted me to keep things simple... but it seems he's left quite a lot of administrative headaches! At least I do have a UK will.
And as my mind made the connection with those sweet sugary drops that aunties used to have in their pocket, I saw their purple hue.... violet violets. Later I spied yellow celandines.Nice to speak French to a stranger and English to an American.
I am beginning to be less 'off the wall'. Is there any hope?
Postscript:
But that was all written a week ago because I push postings forwards. The walks dd not materialise after the good start to the week when I concentrated all Monday, was proactive and clear several piles of "things to achieve"! OK there is more which has stacked up for quite a while... but I am tidying it!!! After a Yoga morning where I had to use muscles `i did not know I had, I idled over copious quantities of tea with a gardener who will help me finish the courtyard project. The larch will go. Thanks Tim for your help on this disturbing decision. Then the GP, bank, Tours sadness, IKEA visit to check out kitchens, a car service and thank goodness the electrics on the remorque are repaired. The bill was within my estimate. No electricity this morning bu then on my frequent search in the street for a helpful resident, the neighbour chez lui only for the weekend turned off all the trip switches until we found the culprit. The steam from the kettle hits the cupboard above, then condenses to the wall prise. Depressed, I rallied to a bath and drove to a plant sale, where plants were 25% more than Leclerc yesterday or so listless one would not have wished to own them! Then I did a walk and now my head feels better! The death of an expat has haunted me to keep things simple... but it seems he's left quite a lot of administrative headaches! At least I do have a UK will.
Friday 13 March 2015
At the setting of the sun....
It is a terrible thing when Life dies, especially of a human being and someone whom one has known...when one is bereft, when his family and his dear friend E. is bereft....when yet the sun still shines and the birds still sing and Spring springs again indulging on French soil, when Barrie would have been so full of delight for this place that he came to.
I might have some info incorrect. Forgive me if I have. I write this public tribute to say how much I appreciated someone whom I knew very little.
I hadn't seen Barrie for four or five years. I don't read local blogs on a regular basis but was shocked when I discovered that an Englishman, a sort of friend from a while ago, had died in France. Thank you to the person whose blog announced his death. I respected the man enormously in life so wished to be there to respect him, even in death. I cancelled appointments and drove the distance. He was a wonderful gentle man...different, kind, calm, funny, a man who loved his garden, who loved colour, who loved architecture, who was an engineer, who loved the sea and La Rochelle, who drove to France in his red sports car with his then best friend, his parrot in a cage, who still speaks and will miss Barrie! He helped lots of people to settle in France and enjoyed working in retirement.
D and I met him as an acquaintance a long time ago. I forget how, but it wasn't in order to employ him. I was always fascinated by his immaculate silver-grey hair, his dark brown, nay, black caterpillar eyebrows, his lovely accent, his knowledge and simplicity, his calm but probable, possible naughty demeanour. He had a good taste in music I remember. I was sad for him and his wife when they separated. There was something not quite right, yet they were both fluent in French, had immersed themselves in French village culture, football and belote, happy, but there was unhappiness. Later, I felt their pain whilst I was feeling the pain that was about to descend on me! Since then, he found his companion and was happy. I am glad.
The funeral service was eloquent, like him, but his parrot stayed at home! His family read a well scripted eulogy which evidently he had helped to write. His hat rested on the coffin...he always wore a hat! I sent him my thoughts and those from D as requested. If I had known he was ill I would have gone to see him but didn't know and hadn't known where he was living! On enquiry, I was told that he'd had intestinal cancer for a year that he knew of, but the treatment became worse than the symptoms, so he gave up... I think I would too! When the chips are down I am sure one will know.
IT IS a sad loss for Barrie. He was happy with his companion and happy with his family. It is a sad loss that a man aged 70 has been deprived of the country he loved, deprived of his own happiness and that happiness he shared with others and of course that his family have been deprived of him.
It was a reverential AU REVOIR... it was happily done... he would have enjoyed it, especially when some of us were trying not to dance in the aisle to SULTANS OF SWING!
Thank you Barrie for your advice from time to time and thank the powers that be that enabled me to be there... that one last goodbye. May your descendants be granted 'bon courage' for all the French admin as well as grief and bereavement. You touched the lives of those who live in France. I am sure other people would have been there to say FAREWELL if they had known or if they were here in France. Farewell Barrie.
The setting sun on my way home.
I might have some info incorrect. Forgive me if I have. I write this public tribute to say how much I appreciated someone whom I knew very little.
I hadn't seen Barrie for four or five years. I don't read local blogs on a regular basis but was shocked when I discovered that an Englishman, a sort of friend from a while ago, had died in France. Thank you to the person whose blog announced his death. I respected the man enormously in life so wished to be there to respect him, even in death. I cancelled appointments and drove the distance. He was a wonderful gentle man...different, kind, calm, funny, a man who loved his garden, who loved colour, who loved architecture, who was an engineer, who loved the sea and La Rochelle, who drove to France in his red sports car with his then best friend, his parrot in a cage, who still speaks and will miss Barrie! He helped lots of people to settle in France and enjoyed working in retirement.
D and I met him as an acquaintance a long time ago. I forget how, but it wasn't in order to employ him. I was always fascinated by his immaculate silver-grey hair, his dark brown, nay, black caterpillar eyebrows, his lovely accent, his knowledge and simplicity, his calm but probable, possible naughty demeanour. He had a good taste in music I remember. I was sad for him and his wife when they separated. There was something not quite right, yet they were both fluent in French, had immersed themselves in French village culture, football and belote, happy, but there was unhappiness. Later, I felt their pain whilst I was feeling the pain that was about to descend on me! Since then, he found his companion and was happy. I am glad.
The funeral service was eloquent, like him, but his parrot stayed at home! His family read a well scripted eulogy which evidently he had helped to write. His hat rested on the coffin...he always wore a hat! I sent him my thoughts and those from D as requested. If I had known he was ill I would have gone to see him but didn't know and hadn't known where he was living! On enquiry, I was told that he'd had intestinal cancer for a year that he knew of, but the treatment became worse than the symptoms, so he gave up... I think I would too! When the chips are down I am sure one will know.
IT IS a sad loss for Barrie. He was happy with his companion and happy with his family. It is a sad loss that a man aged 70 has been deprived of the country he loved, deprived of his own happiness and that happiness he shared with others and of course that his family have been deprived of him.
It was a reverential AU REVOIR... it was happily done... he would have enjoyed it, especially when some of us were trying not to dance in the aisle to SULTANS OF SWING!
Thank you Barrie for your advice from time to time and thank the powers that be that enabled me to be there... that one last goodbye. May your descendants be granted 'bon courage' for all the French admin as well as grief and bereavement. You touched the lives of those who live in France. I am sure other people would have been there to say FAREWELL if they had known or if they were here in France. Farewell Barrie.
The setting sun on my way home.
Thursday 12 March 2015
Broken willow tree
Evening spring warmth and light
brings me to the risen river
swollen with clear rushing water.
Purple violets here and there
raise their heads to feel the air
church tower ding dongs the hour.
Here I sit near broken willow
stood majestically tall six long winters ago
where I sat with a Lover for a Christmas dinner in snow.
Our barbecue winter four course meals, whatever the weather
unfashionable, until others as mad as us, announced it 'de rigeur.'
Then it was, that willowy tendril garlands decorated our day to tumble on us there.
Willowy strands reminded us, kept us in touch
with the geographical history of man
but Nature does not stay;
willowy tendrils like love can be broken
as all things pass,
whilst the River and Water of Life flows on and on
carrying flotsam and jetsam.
Walking on
found jazz on a 2cv.
A party.
A glass of white wine and company.
Society.
I am alive.
Like willow I can regrow.
Thank you willow tree.
brings me to the risen river
swollen with clear rushing water.
Purple violets here and there
raise their heads to feel the air
church tower ding dongs the hour.
Here I sit near broken willow
stood majestically tall six long winters ago
where I sat with a Lover for a Christmas dinner in snow.
Our barbecue winter four course meals, whatever the weather
unfashionable, until others as mad as us, announced it 'de rigeur.'
Then it was, that willowy tendril garlands decorated our day to tumble on us there.
Willowy strands reminded us, kept us in touch
with the geographical history of man
but Nature does not stay;
willowy tendrils like love can be broken
as all things pass,
whilst the River and Water of Life flows on and on
carrying flotsam and jetsam.
Walking on
found jazz on a 2cv.
A party.
A glass of white wine and company.
Society.
I am alive.
Like willow I can regrow.
 | |
| This winter broken |
 |
| with still an eye to view |
 |
| the barque |
 |
| the chateau |
 |
| the church |
Wednesday 11 March 2015
Book Review: The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
My daughter gave this book to me.
Living with February influenza forced my mind to read between sleeping!
There has been a glimpse of Spring. I sat in the garden sunshine for no more than 30 minutes contentedly reading. In the coming days I wondered where I had left the book! Ah, the rain! The pages weren't yet completely stuck together so I dried the book out on top of the woodburner. But it pushed against the hot flue. I wondered what that sweet smell was! Nevertheless, still a little damp it was readable!
It took a while for me to understand the lay-out of the novel, identify with the characters and understand who was relating the story. It wasn't the Book Thief! 'Twas the Grim Reaper! It says so on the back cover! Like many, I am deeply upset at what happened in WWII ... it is the setting of this literary work! It must have been hell for so many! We cannot alter our place of birth! Out of learning grows reward. The ability to play an instrument, to draw, to write, to have a skill are talents which can be shared with others in joy or dire times.
I loved the style and the bold black intros to each section...telling of what was to come.
Incredibly soul-wrenching...souls were allowed to live a while before they were taken / stolen... as well as books, apples and potatoes. The desire to read drew the desire to steal. Out of horror, sorrow, badness grows goodness, delight, satisfaction, love. BUT all things pass and everyone dies!
The fact that my book went through the rigours of the elements, matching some of that which happens in the story seemed to be ironic!
An excellent work of how words can triumph over the extremes of loss. I highly recommend the novel.
Living with February influenza forced my mind to read between sleeping!
There has been a glimpse of Spring. I sat in the garden sunshine for no more than 30 minutes contentedly reading. In the coming days I wondered where I had left the book! Ah, the rain! The pages weren't yet completely stuck together so I dried the book out on top of the woodburner. But it pushed against the hot flue. I wondered what that sweet smell was! Nevertheless, still a little damp it was readable!
It took a while for me to understand the lay-out of the novel, identify with the characters and understand who was relating the story. It wasn't the Book Thief! 'Twas the Grim Reaper! It says so on the back cover! Like many, I am deeply upset at what happened in WWII ... it is the setting of this literary work! It must have been hell for so many! We cannot alter our place of birth! Out of learning grows reward. The ability to play an instrument, to draw, to write, to have a skill are talents which can be shared with others in joy or dire times.
I loved the style and the bold black intros to each section...telling of what was to come.
Incredibly soul-wrenching...souls were allowed to live a while before they were taken / stolen... as well as books, apples and potatoes. The desire to read drew the desire to steal. Out of horror, sorrow, badness grows goodness, delight, satisfaction, love. BUT all things pass and everyone dies!
The fact that my book went through the rigours of the elements, matching some of that which happens in the story seemed to be ironic!
An excellent work of how words can triumph over the extremes of loss. I highly recommend the novel.
 |
| Paper books can suffer water and fire damage but still feel great in the hand and to the eye. |
Tuesday 10 March 2015
Words are what we are
This is tongue-in-cheek.
A verbal selfie!
The modern equivalent is probably "LOL"... does that mean Lots of Love or Lots of Laughter?
It doesn't really matter! Here we are ust trying to lift spirits and laugh at preposterousness!
A dear good friend described me as formidable... But in which sense or all?
A verbal selfie!
The modern equivalent is probably "LOL"... does that mean Lots of Love or Lots of Laughter?
It doesn't really matter! Here we are ust trying to lift spirits and laugh at preposterousness!
A dear good friend described me as formidable... But in which sense or all?
1. Arousing fear, dread, or alarm.
2. Inspiring awe, admiration, or wonder.
3. Difficult to undertake, surmount, or defeat.
- from Middle English, Old French, Latin formīdābilis, from formīdāre, from formīdō, fear.
2. Inspiring awe, admiration, or wonder.
3. Difficult to undertake, surmount, or defeat.
- from Middle English, Old French, Latin formīdābilis, from formīdāre, from formīdō, fear.
Several weeks ago, the same friend described me as enigmatic which I've heard on many an occasion from a number of people, usually of the opposite gender, and have always considered it a compliment and laughed. I don't understand who I am so how do other people have such an insight?
And so...
And so...
ɛnɪɡˈmatɪk/enigmatic: an adjective meaning difficult to interpret or understand!
A Greek and Latin form of being non-conformist.
A Greek and Latin form of being non-conformist.
Synonyms would be: mysterious, puzzling, hard to understand, mystifying, inexplicable, baffling, perplexing, bewildering, confusing, impenetrable, inscrutable, incomprehensible, unexplainable, unfathomable, indecipherable, Delphic, oracular.
Am I all of those? Oh dear! I have often wished I could be more straightforward as the recommended antonym suggests!!! Whoever I am, it seems, has created difficulties in my ability to form and maintain friendships. But I gather I am certainly not alone in that respect! I am not a social outcast. I enjoy the company of people. However, it is true I don't suffer fools gladly! It was a reason given to me during an interview de-briefing, why I wasn't successful! Hm!! I think it was a polite way of telling me not to bother attempting to climb above my station!
Monday 9 March 2015
Ah-mund-buns
Last week I baked little cakes for little people with this recipe doubled:
Almond Buns
180g caster sugar and the same of butter beaten together until creamy then 4 eggs whipped in with 80g flour and a sprinkle of baking powder plus 150g ground almonds. You could do 230g ground almonds for gluten free! Then mix in more or less 100g marzipan cut into small lumps. Add milk if necessary. Beat well. Spoon into cases and add whatever dried fruits you have. Unfortunately I didn't have any blueberries / bilberries / myrtilles and I wasn't sure if the kiddies liked ginger, so I used expensive dried raspberries and mini-smarties! mmmmmmmmmmmmm but avoided M&Ms a fave of mine! Peanuts! Bake, 180C, but my oven is just HOT... one stat without a timer... hence one batch got double baked as I gave the buns just a few more minutes (ahem) forgetting they were on the bottom shelf!!!!!!!!!!!! Their daddy said, after I had cut off the paper and we were all enjoying the twice baked cakes, they would be good with custard. I agree! But then they were gone!
We played Connect, magnetic shapes, Kerplunk bees in the tree...drank copious cups of tea.
Almond Buns
180g caster sugar and the same of butter beaten together until creamy then 4 eggs whipped in with 80g flour and a sprinkle of baking powder plus 150g ground almonds. You could do 230g ground almonds for gluten free! Then mix in more or less 100g marzipan cut into small lumps. Add milk if necessary. Beat well. Spoon into cases and add whatever dried fruits you have. Unfortunately I didn't have any blueberries / bilberries / myrtilles and I wasn't sure if the kiddies liked ginger, so I used expensive dried raspberries and mini-smarties! mmmmmmmmmmmmm but avoided M&Ms a fave of mine! Peanuts! Bake, 180C, but my oven is just HOT... one stat without a timer... hence one batch got double baked as I gave the buns just a few more minutes (ahem) forgetting they were on the bottom shelf!!!!!!!!!!!! Their daddy said, after I had cut off the paper and we were all enjoying the twice baked cakes, they would be good with custard. I agree! But then they were gone!
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| Mix up the mixture |
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| Spoon into pretty baking cases |
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| Decorate with crystallised raspberries and smarties |
 |
| or cranberries |
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| Four of the not baked twice buns gifted to each twin |
 | ||
| My-made cards for twins |
Sunday 8 March 2015
An evening sky boils
Saturday 7 March 2015
Friday 6 March 2015
A Poem: I am a Mummy Octopus
Happy 7th Birthday, 6th March to special Francesca!
Happy Felicity Feast day 7th March with babe in arms!
Happy Birthday Party 8th March
Happy Francesca Feast Day 9th March
Happy Birthday Party 8th March
Happy Francesca Feast Day 9th March
This Poem which is absolutely copyright is a tribute to my grand daughter who has a busy mummy making her seventh birthday weekend a memorable happy event.
The Poem was started in 2013 from a song idea from my daughter to her daughter but she couldn't sing enough ideas about what an octopus could do.
She asked Grandmama in France to oblige. She has never had sufficient inspiration or imagination to make it into a children's rhyme or song but now supposes the octopus could find treasures in the sea. A pictorial artist is needed to help develop a story!
A
Poem: A Mummy Octopus sings to Baby Octopus
I am a mummy octopus with many arms to hold
you safe with all my heart until the days grow old.I am a mummy octopus with eight long tentacles
to keep me busy all the time to clear all obstacles.
I am a mummy octopus working hard for family,
I try to give my very best for health and harmony.
I am a mummy octopus, I wrap the world together,
Open - close, hug you tight, embrace shared love forever.
We spread ourselves around the world to reach out arms unfurled,
wide and far, wrap loved ones near, tentacles are curled.
We squish and squirm in Waters of Life, build friendship out of trust,
destroy unwanted nuisances, convert to angel dust.
On your seventh birthday, Mother and Daughter, we
keep our tentacles busy baking cakes for your party.
I hope that when you grow up more
your octopus daughter’s arms stretch to adore
the beautiful world of hope - a kaleidoscope.
One day my daughter you might be
a mummy octopus just like me
with arms to hold ME safe
with all your heart
until my days grow old and cold.
Thank you for letting me be a mummy octopus!
Saturday 28 February 2015
When nightingales sing pleasure
'La grippe'... as a posting title has been altered because at 15h32 on 5 march 2015 there had been 445 views on that day alone....statistics tell me a large audience in France...
Well.. it certainly took a grip! It is said that the flu vaccine would not have fought against this current virus, so I am glad I did not have it, even though the French medical system offered it to me for the first time this year. Such is my age! It is also said that having the 'flu' is the best vaccine against contracting any future influenza virus in the next few years. For that, I hope to be blessed. It is not an illness to be taken lightly and anyone who says they have it when they have only a serious cold is not to be pitied. Yesterday morning I made a few steps to the postbox but returned to the warmth of my room coughing, fit only for lying dormant again. The cough linctus didn't take long to swig but methinks it only pacifies rather than cures.
In the evening, the air was warm so before the sparkling sun set to bed I walked in the opposite direction to town, to descend to the village with sun in my eyes. Quite an exhausted me returned home! It is fascinating how the body and mind insists one closes down all faculties in order to heal. I have slept such a lot and could still sleep more. Now two weeks and three days since this started, it is a wonder how the body and the mind begin to wish to circulate, walk, breathe fresh air, so that gradually, 'pas a pas', one returns to normal life, whatever that is! Fortunately, as the second week progressed I was able to do cerebral activities, to keep some semblance of self-respect about my person and domesticity. To stave off the humdrum of confinement I found several YT videos of Jane Austen novels and it has been good to return to the history and culture of England. Emma. Persuasion. Northanger Abbey. Mansfield Park. (can't find Sense & Sensibility for free). Pride & Prejudice 1995 BBCTV series was an epic watch in small doses. If only there were more Colin Firth / Mr Darcy characters available! Far from being Restless I have been fairly calm, getting on with neglected tasks, lazy, yet looking AT unending chores in house and garden, knowing that in a few weeks time, cuckoos and nightingales sing pleasure and distraction for woodland walks!
Well.. it certainly took a grip! It is said that the flu vaccine would not have fought against this current virus, so I am glad I did not have it, even though the French medical system offered it to me for the first time this year. Such is my age! It is also said that having the 'flu' is the best vaccine against contracting any future influenza virus in the next few years. For that, I hope to be blessed. It is not an illness to be taken lightly and anyone who says they have it when they have only a serious cold is not to be pitied. Yesterday morning I made a few steps to the postbox but returned to the warmth of my room coughing, fit only for lying dormant again. The cough linctus didn't take long to swig but methinks it only pacifies rather than cures.
In the evening, the air was warm so before the sparkling sun set to bed I walked in the opposite direction to town, to descend to the village with sun in my eyes. Quite an exhausted me returned home! It is fascinating how the body and mind insists one closes down all faculties in order to heal. I have slept such a lot and could still sleep more. Now two weeks and three days since this started, it is a wonder how the body and the mind begin to wish to circulate, walk, breathe fresh air, so that gradually, 'pas a pas', one returns to normal life, whatever that is! Fortunately, as the second week progressed I was able to do cerebral activities, to keep some semblance of self-respect about my person and domesticity. To stave off the humdrum of confinement I found several YT videos of Jane Austen novels and it has been good to return to the history and culture of England. Emma. Persuasion. Northanger Abbey. Mansfield Park. (can't find Sense & Sensibility for free). Pride & Prejudice 1995 BBCTV series was an epic watch in small doses. If only there were more Colin Firth / Mr Darcy characters available! Far from being Restless I have been fairly calm, getting on with neglected tasks, lazy, yet looking AT unending chores in house and garden, knowing that in a few weeks time, cuckoos and nightingales sing pleasure and distraction for woodland walks!
Tuesday 24 February 2015
Oh. What a Way
OhWAW
MAIN RULE: never have WAW people at the last minute without a full and proper investigation as to why they wish to arrive so soon, who happen to be newly met 'Romeo & Juliet", who happen not to have any apparent onward plan, who did not reveal that they secret smoke, hence who lied on their profile, who say they can and can't, who say they will and don't, who say they are willing but aren't at the least sign of me doing something else, and who, when fully tested when I was unable to control their lack of initiative, did absolutely nothing, not even clear the kitchen or put away tools, who did not ask me what they could do to help, who had not fulfilled the tasks requested, who did not consider that the old biddy might need to be checked as she hadn't surfaced from the bedroom during the day! Ah, they could hear incessant coughing!
So... Oh. What a Way to end three weeks. I have examined facts for truth. I was not perfect. I never am. I did annoy them. If I wasn't monitoring, helping, working alongside, giving instructions (quicker to do it myself as English spoken language differences did not match! ... Bossy me! ) they were lazy, distracted. They told me so!! When I asked what his plan would be if, when properly employed, his boss asks him to do something and discovers he hasn't done it, he shrugged his shoulders!!! He did not seem to make the connection!
In the classroom, good T.A.s were worth their weight in gold. The supplementary ones or trainees that came from time to time, one trained them because that was our role - to educate. It is my role as a host to pass on skills, to train to educate... BUT NOT TO DRAIN ME! I drained my SELF! I could have moved them on after week one! but there still would have been the same discontent from them. If I have any other WAWs there will be a very different approach.
For three weeks I made allowances for language, youth, inexperience, an injured knee, refusal to see a medical specialist... but when hours were not made up from a man and woman who told me they were happy to work more than five hours a day and all the rest... I wanted them to go. Influenza told me I wanted to be in darkness without knowing that people in my house were doing nowt but being in their 'love nest'... hey ho what do they do? They shout at me whilst I am in my bed, say that I am unfair to rise from my sick bed and take them to the town in six hours, accuse me of giving no warning. That last part is true! I am asking them to go one day early! They shout at me in my kitchen and tell me I have not fed them! What? Threaten to make a mess of my house and garden project started! Then the truth is revealed. THEY HAVE NO PLAN AND NO WHERE NEXT TO GO, except she was supposed to be going home. Suddenly, ACTION. They spend twelve hours on the computer checking for travel and other unsuspecting hosts. No one knows where they have gone, except heading North.
When they arrived I learned that I had accepted them from a different bad scenario! Someone had threatened to kill them! Alarm bells rang but insufficiently to alert me they were kids! My name will of course be part of their future 'bad time' story! Eventually, my logic decided it wasn't worth giving him, who has a policy of not giving feedback, any feedback. But I have notified the WAW Team. She was naive, scared like a rabbit and should have been sheltered in her family home.
What riled me when I surfaced to get a hot water bottle on one occasion was that he shoved her out of the way so that he could wash up, then allowed her to finish it because he didn't like to wipe, nor wash up! I found her washing one plate and then wiping it.. and so on! My plates in the cupboard were dripping wet or greasy with fat! Cutlery and crockery have all been rewashed. My two remaining wedding teaspoons were in their bin parcel. THEY HAVE GONE...and left labouring tasks for me to achieve, but I don't mind!
Let's look at the positive: they widened the lavender border, moved logs, forked and dug, gave me courage to buy a chainsaw, chainsawed timber, felled two trees, dug out one tree root, created timber surrounds for 4 part potager, moved heavy concrete plant troughs using roller wood I found, helped take garden waste to dechetterie, did hard labour prep of courtyard... all stuff I couldn't do plus she sorted a lifetime of postcard collection and photos. They sang and played guitar, we played board games, enjoyed a long walk... had a laugh... ate delicious food. I praised them often and at every supper ..."Well done you". Yes I developed trust issues, suspecting they were not moving on, but had no regrets telling them the honeymoon was over! I think I have the right to not allow people alone in my house if I do not trust them. I have regrets that it ended unpleasantly! But I have received KARMA!
MAIN RULE: never have WAW people at the last minute without a full and proper investigation as to why they wish to arrive so soon, who happen to be newly met 'Romeo & Juliet", who happen not to have any apparent onward plan, who did not reveal that they secret smoke, hence who lied on their profile, who say they can and can't, who say they will and don't, who say they are willing but aren't at the least sign of me doing something else, and who, when fully tested when I was unable to control their lack of initiative, did absolutely nothing, not even clear the kitchen or put away tools, who did not ask me what they could do to help, who had not fulfilled the tasks requested, who did not consider that the old biddy might need to be checked as she hadn't surfaced from the bedroom during the day! Ah, they could hear incessant coughing!
So... Oh. What a Way to end three weeks. I have examined facts for truth. I was not perfect. I never am. I did annoy them. If I wasn't monitoring, helping, working alongside, giving instructions (quicker to do it myself as English spoken language differences did not match! ... Bossy me! ) they were lazy, distracted. They told me so!! When I asked what his plan would be if, when properly employed, his boss asks him to do something and discovers he hasn't done it, he shrugged his shoulders!!! He did not seem to make the connection!
In the classroom, good T.A.s were worth their weight in gold. The supplementary ones or trainees that came from time to time, one trained them because that was our role - to educate. It is my role as a host to pass on skills, to train to educate... BUT NOT TO DRAIN ME! I drained my SELF! I could have moved them on after week one! but there still would have been the same discontent from them. If I have any other WAWs there will be a very different approach.
For three weeks I made allowances for language, youth, inexperience, an injured knee, refusal to see a medical specialist... but when hours were not made up from a man and woman who told me they were happy to work more than five hours a day and all the rest... I wanted them to go. Influenza told me I wanted to be in darkness without knowing that people in my house were doing nowt but being in their 'love nest'... hey ho what do they do? They shout at me whilst I am in my bed, say that I am unfair to rise from my sick bed and take them to the town in six hours, accuse me of giving no warning. That last part is true! I am asking them to go one day early! They shout at me in my kitchen and tell me I have not fed them! What? Threaten to make a mess of my house and garden project started! Then the truth is revealed. THEY HAVE NO PLAN AND NO WHERE NEXT TO GO, except she was supposed to be going home. Suddenly, ACTION. They spend twelve hours on the computer checking for travel and other unsuspecting hosts. No one knows where they have gone, except heading North.
When they arrived I learned that I had accepted them from a different bad scenario! Someone had threatened to kill them! Alarm bells rang but insufficiently to alert me they were kids! My name will of course be part of their future 'bad time' story! Eventually, my logic decided it wasn't worth giving him, who has a policy of not giving feedback, any feedback. But I have notified the WAW Team. She was naive, scared like a rabbit and should have been sheltered in her family home.
What riled me when I surfaced to get a hot water bottle on one occasion was that he shoved her out of the way so that he could wash up, then allowed her to finish it because he didn't like to wipe, nor wash up! I found her washing one plate and then wiping it.. and so on! My plates in the cupboard were dripping wet or greasy with fat! Cutlery and crockery have all been rewashed. My two remaining wedding teaspoons were in their bin parcel. THEY HAVE GONE...and left labouring tasks for me to achieve, but I don't mind!
Let's look at the positive: they widened the lavender border, moved logs, forked and dug, gave me courage to buy a chainsaw, chainsawed timber, felled two trees, dug out one tree root, created timber surrounds for 4 part potager, moved heavy concrete plant troughs using roller wood I found, helped take garden waste to dechetterie, did hard labour prep of courtyard... all stuff I couldn't do plus she sorted a lifetime of postcard collection and photos. They sang and played guitar, we played board games, enjoyed a long walk... had a laugh... ate delicious food. I praised them often and at every supper ..."Well done you". Yes I developed trust issues, suspecting they were not moving on, but had no regrets telling them the honeymoon was over! I think I have the right to not allow people alone in my house if I do not trust them. I have regrets that it ended unpleasantly! But I have received KARMA!
Sunday 22 February 2015
J.O.Y.
I have rushed to write.
The sun is shining... I spent thirty minutes in the sun, warming my face and heart, starting to read The Book Thief". Then, gathered all the strength I could muster. to do what had to be done.
LONG STORY!...but...the mains drainage backed up into the garden.
I am cleaning a brick that has the word "SPECIAL" incised into one side...how silly and funny!... it's literally had a pile of poo on it, as have others. This brick will have to take pride of place in my garden and not be hidden from view, to serve as a reminder of madness. I am cleaning the area where a clematis struggles and maybe I shall plant a rose there!
HARK!
JOY mounts within my soul when I hear those cries.... those sounds I always associate with where I live and the passing of the seasons. Les grues. Apart from death there is one certainty, that whatever the shit in one's life, the seasons will come and go; they will bring forth LIFE and DESIRE to live. Spring will arrive to climb the ladder from recent despair and influenza.
Too late for the camera... but I heard them. I opened the gates to Fort Knox, searched the sky from my street and there they were, towards the north / east flying, heading that way .. several v shape forms... SPRING AT LAST!!!! I am in tears of JOY. They are JOY.
It's a long haul but I can get there., wherever I have to go! Death hasn't wanted me yet!!!!! I defy it! The last ten days or so have been absolute HELL and WILL (who is he?) has been more than rock bottom, battling with trying to keep me warm, stop me coughing, stop me crying, help me to sleep ... I am not ashamed! Being ill needs a nurse, needs creature comforts, needs need to be pampered. It's hard! I am human. Dramatic? Maybe but I don't care. I am who I am!
SPRING SUNSHINE... LET ME HAVE IT! Let it shine into my house. I need someone to instal a velux or sun tunnel.
The sun is shining... I spent thirty minutes in the sun, warming my face and heart, starting to read The Book Thief". Then, gathered all the strength I could muster. to do what had to be done.
LONG STORY!...but...the mains drainage backed up into the garden.
I am cleaning a brick that has the word "SPECIAL" incised into one side...how silly and funny!... it's literally had a pile of poo on it, as have others. This brick will have to take pride of place in my garden and not be hidden from view, to serve as a reminder of madness. I am cleaning the area where a clematis struggles and maybe I shall plant a rose there!
HARK!
JOY mounts within my soul when I hear those cries.... those sounds I always associate with where I live and the passing of the seasons. Les grues. Apart from death there is one certainty, that whatever the shit in one's life, the seasons will come and go; they will bring forth LIFE and DESIRE to live. Spring will arrive to climb the ladder from recent despair and influenza.
Too late for the camera... but I heard them. I opened the gates to Fort Knox, searched the sky from my street and there they were, towards the north / east flying, heading that way .. several v shape forms... SPRING AT LAST!!!! I am in tears of JOY. They are JOY.
It's a long haul but I can get there., wherever I have to go! Death hasn't wanted me yet!!!!! I defy it! The last ten days or so have been absolute HELL and WILL (who is he?) has been more than rock bottom, battling with trying to keep me warm, stop me coughing, stop me crying, help me to sleep ... I am not ashamed! Being ill needs a nurse, needs creature comforts, needs need to be pampered. It's hard! I am human. Dramatic? Maybe but I don't care. I am who I am!
SPRING SUNSHINE... LET ME HAVE IT! Let it shine into my house. I need someone to instal a velux or sun tunnel.
Wednesday 4 February 2015
Far and near a witches' rock
Tuesday 3 February 2015
Shepherd or Vineyard Worker Huts - Posting One
In the very local surroundings of my village, Angles sur L'Anglin, you may discover on private land, or along a chemin, the vestiges of ancient dry stone wall buildings that have a small entrance. Evidently, they are found only in this region and in Provence. Several years ago the Office du Tourisme conducted a tour of these on one of the Patrimoine days, therefore, I am reporting what I understood when my French language skills were poorer than they are now! I know where many of them are, and as far as I can remember there are no more than 20 or so. I shall do further homework as I am not exactly sure of their title. However, this is a post posting sentence; they are called 'Loges' but in Provence are called 'Bories'. They were built to shelter shepherds or vineyard workers or those who worked in fields from the onslaught of the heat or inclement weather. Many are in ruins.
This is one of the largest that I know and in a private field.
Maybe I should make a map of where they are!
Monday 2 February 2015
Glorioso Weekend Feastings
SUNDAY: Sleepy head on the first day of the month got up late as did the Workers...
At about two thirty we had something to eat but none of us were hungry until we started to eat...
from the freezer a leftovers rice dish from October served three with raw carrot strips and a bit of lettuce, the last of the Ciabatta rolls and the last of the Pear Meringue tart... A FEAST...
Then we partook of a WALK for an hour and a half to 'Le Roc à Midi'. On the return journey I found a route I haven't taken in years!!!!!! Splendissimo! I also started to learn the days of the week in Italian and Spanish! Tricky!
Pics to follow tomorrow......
Two Roasted chicken cuissons stretched to feed three persons with potatoes, garlic and parsnips roasted. They had not ever eaten the latter! More carrots. I made a gravy with roasted red pepper out of a jar, swished with apple juice, carrot juice, pesto, cream and a little flour to thicken. I don't do gravy cubes or powder. YUK! We were stuffed! No one wanted apple crumble. Good oh.. it is for tomorrow!
In addition, I cooked a casserole of three chicken legs on a bed of onions and potatoes, lemon and ginger......that should feed us for two days... AND I made BREAD, which was started Thursday night using left-over Ciabatta mix and flour scraped out of the bowl and off the kneading table. It had kept covered with a cloth whilst the wild yeasts grew... then I added flour etc on Saturday night, kneaded it Sunday morning, cooked it late Sunday evening! YUM!
SATURDAY, they brought the trailer to the house, filled it with weeds, emptied my front-of-house plant troughs brought into the outhouse last November as they
are not frost proof... One cannot have everything as they were only 3e
from SuperU. All the soil is in black bins ready for Spring plantation! Some geraniums etc show signs of life, so we
extracted the living and repotted them into three troughs in my
kitchen hoping to flourish!!! Give life I say! They had also moved more logs into drier storage. My lovely workers managed 3 hrs labour and I called it a day as I was tired. They left me alone so I took opportunity to indulge in a bath and to test where shower water now spatters to... will still have to be careful!
Yesterday we ate beef casserole... it is a Bourgninon (spelling?) cut of beef and for 3.50e served four ( one portion in the freezer for me at a later date!). We had rice and carrots! The Italians were complimentary!
At about two thirty we had something to eat but none of us were hungry until we started to eat...
from the freezer a leftovers rice dish from October served three with raw carrot strips and a bit of lettuce, the last of the Ciabatta rolls and the last of the Pear Meringue tart... A FEAST...
Then we partook of a WALK for an hour and a half to 'Le Roc à Midi'. On the return journey I found a route I haven't taken in years!!!!!! Splendissimo! I also started to learn the days of the week in Italian and Spanish! Tricky!
Pics to follow tomorrow......
Two Roasted chicken cuissons stretched to feed three persons with potatoes, garlic and parsnips roasted. They had not ever eaten the latter! More carrots. I made a gravy with roasted red pepper out of a jar, swished with apple juice, carrot juice, pesto, cream and a little flour to thicken. I don't do gravy cubes or powder. YUK! We were stuffed! No one wanted apple crumble. Good oh.. it is for tomorrow!
In addition, I cooked a casserole of three chicken legs on a bed of onions and potatoes, lemon and ginger......that should feed us for two days... AND I made BREAD, which was started Thursday night using left-over Ciabatta mix and flour scraped out of the bowl and off the kneading table. It had kept covered with a cloth whilst the wild yeasts grew... then I added flour etc on Saturday night, kneaded it Sunday morning, cooked it late Sunday evening! YUM!
Yesterday we ate beef casserole... it is a Bourgninon (spelling?) cut of beef and for 3.50e served four ( one portion in the freezer for me at a later date!). We had rice and carrots! The Italians were complimentary!
Sunday 1 February 2015
What will the days of the blackbird bring?
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
 |
| with thanks to rspb for image |
In Italy, the days of the blackbird or 'i giorni della merla' are traditionally the coldest days of the year...29, 30, 31 January, sometimes including February 1st. Folk-lore says that the colder those days the better Spring weather there will be! Fascinating to learn something new, if true!
Here are three links for you to read if interested!
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
‘giorni della merla’ (days of the blackbird).
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