Our place in France Chapter 70

Having moved into our house more than a year ago, we decided that it was now high time that we unpacked the last of the boxes which have been stored down in the cellar for all this time. During that period we have established one thing with certainty and that is that the cellar is not damp, which is a good thing because in those last boxes are all our books for which there is simply no room in the house. Having weeded them out ruthlessly before we packed, we couldn’t bear not to have them accessible to us so a plan had to be made. At about the same time as this decision was made we received an advertising booklet in the post from one of the hardware shops in Villefranche – one that we visit quite regularly. In the folder was a large advertisement for workshop shelving at a bargain price. We thought that if the shelving was intended for workshop use, it would probably be quite sturdy and be able to support the weight of the books.

The shelving came in a remarkably small box and was in ‘flat –pack’ form. The sort of thing that boasts that one man with no tools can assemble it in an hour. Okay-y-y-y!  Let’s see. It took two days for the two of us to put it together and I really don’t think either of us is completely stupid. I DO think that it would have gone a lot quicker if the pieces had been marked with the same numbers which were on the assembly sheet but hey! We did it. The shelves are two widths with deeper shelves at the bottom and narrower ones at the top, and it was only once we had got the bottom part finished that we realised that there were legs of two different lengths because the back legs projected above the top of the lower shelves in order to anchor the top part in place. That little detail was also not clearly marked on the assembly sheet, but it just meant taking the back legs off again and replacing them with the right ones before we could carry on. When it was complete it turned out to be very stable and rigid and was perfect for the books. The next day we started pulling boxes around and an hour later we were both dripping with perspiration but everything was unpacked and arranged on the shelves. Another job done. Thank goodness the cellar is always cool because it was a cooking 31 degrees outside. Naturally that also means that in winter the cellar is freezing but it’s just a matter of making the work suit the season.

I think this is why we relish the thought of being on our own and being able to get on with what still needs doing without having to consider anyone else’s needs. If we are busy and only get to have lunch at three o’clock, it doesn’t matter but it would bother me a lot if we had guests.

This week I also had the second of my scheduled five eye treatments. After the shock that preceded the first one and due to the fact that the treatment appears to be working, we could afford to be almost blasé about this one. When I originally saw the eye specialist he was horrified at what e discovered and told us that if we had waited longer, I would have been blind by November and it would have been irreversible. Not the sort of news anyone wants to hear. But he squeezed us into his schedule two days later for the first treatment to both eyes. A month later, this last week, the right eye was done again and next Friday will be the left and then another month later it will be the same again. If progress continues at the same rate as it has been so far, I have no doubt that by November I will have pretty good sight again. I might have to wear glasses all the time but that wouldn’t upset me – at least I would always know where they are.

I have to take my hat off to the medical fraternity in this part of France. I think they are marvellous! Firstly, our GP who recognised what I was describing when I mentioned my sight problems in passing when we went to get a new prescription from him. I had already made an appointment with the eye specialist but the first I could get was in………….you guessed it – November. The GP used the ‘hot line’ between doctors and my appointment was jumped up to two days later. The specialist was calm and unfazed when I saw him but squeezed me in two days later. He only told us at the second appointment how much of an emergency the procedure was. I can’t tell you how grateful I am to all involved.

Apart from that bit of minor excitement and the hard slog of making the shelves and then filling them up, the week has been very quiet.

Our place in France Chapter 69

The hot, sunny weather persisted until Wednesday and the fields around us look quite spectacular. The grass has been mowed and baled and in some places the grass has started to grow again around the bales, which makes it look rather attractive, but I prefer the fields that have just been cut, and baled. Then the stubble left in the field is a wonderful luminous gold with more round bales standing around than one would think possible for that size field. Every corner brings another ‘Kodak’ moment!

Tilly arrived back from the south coast at some unearthly time of the morning on Monday. It really scares the daylights out of me to have her driving around the countryside, at night, on her own but she has no worries about it and seems to love driving. Most of the rest of the day was spent unpacking her car and getting herself organised. However, at about five o’clock we all decided that it was such a beautiful evening that we should really not waste it so took a drive to Cajarc down near the Lot River. Our favourite restaurant had tables empty so we thought a glass of rosé would slide down our throats very nicely and coolly. There was a small band playing some rather weird but not unpleasant music, off to one side and it was completely relaxing to sit and ‘people watch’.

Our neighbours had invited us to a meal on Wednesday evening which was a real honour as it was really a family reunion. Their daughter from near Bordeaux was there with her young son; one son from Canada was there with his wife and two boys; another son from America was also there but they have no children. Also invited was the host, Laurent’s sister and her partner, an uncle from down the road, who brought more family with him, a couple of Laurent’s brothers and their wives, but around then, I lost count and really could no longer work out the relationships. Tilly was with us of course, and she and I tried to do a head count and came to about 30 people. I asked Ann, our hostess, at one time, how many people there were and she just shook her head and said ‘I don’t know’. The parts of the family that were staying in the house with Ann and Laurent had all made the food for the evening and although there were not enough chairs to go around, somehow everyone seemed to have been adequately fed and watered. It was an amazing experience.

It also took a bit of recovery time so we were pleased not to have any plans for Thursday although Tilly worked hard on her computer and the phone most of the day. Apart from all else, she was busy organising her sister’s wedding on Saturday. Oh, did I forget to say? She is also qualified to marry people. Since the wedding was due to take place near Paris, she went off on Friday afternoon, by which time Neels and I had already left for Rodez to collect our new Titres de Sejour. All legal for another year!

Saturday was Ols Day. I have a feeling that it was instituted to commemorate something to do with the Resistance during the war, but it is now a fun day and an evening disco for the youth. We heard the public address system blaring out just after lunch so ambled down to see what was going on. It was a sports day with a difference. When we got there they were busy with a blind-fold relay race. Not as simple as it sounds. To start with, a number of hay bales had been formed into a square, covered with a sheet of black plastic and about half-filled with water. This make-shift swimming pool was in the line of the relay race. So we had four blindfold runners, each with a ‘mate’ to lead them in the right direction. They started off, and had to climb over the ’wall’ of hay, splash through the water to the other end about 12 metres away, climb over the wall again and then the mate released the runner and had to direct him/her to a baton lying in the grass by shouting ‘left’, ‘right’ or ‘straight on’ and then directing back to the mate.  Then, with baton in hand, they made the return trip by which time they were all thoroughly wet and giggling helplessly. A few were so weak with laughing that their mate had to literally drag them through the water on the return trip. A great time was had by all – especially the spectators who didn’t have to get wet! We left shortly after this event and as we walked up past the community hall (Salle de Fetes) we noticed feverish activity as preparations were being made for the disco that evening. We didn’t go a watch later that evening but could hear some of the music and thought we were perhaps a bit old for disco.

Our place in France Chapter 68

What can you call a week when the highlights are sending your granddaughter off to South Africa by plane, on her own; and picking the first tomato! To begin with though, we were shaken out of our lethargy on Sunday afternoon when the neighbours came and invited us to go and play petanque with them. Also known as boulles it is a game that can be played almost anywhere and with any number of people as long as there are enough boulles to go around. So Neels went off to play while I finished doing some work. Later I went to see what was going on and took my camera. There is no set area of play and as long as the ground is fairly level, the game can go ahead. One person throws a small red ball about the size of a pin-pong ball, so that it comes to a rest about 4 to 5 metres away. Players then take it in turns to toss their extremely heavy steel balls, trying to get it as close as possible to the red ball. The boulles don’t bounce, so the idea is to toss it upwards so that it lands with a thump close to the mark. They were playing in the square which has a rather rough surface with lose gravel on it so there were plenty of minor obstacles to send the boulle off course.. The shouting and cheering from all and sundry, was ear-splitting and there was a lot of encouragement being shouted on all sides with Oohs! And Aahs! after each winning , or losing shot. You are never too old to learn.

Courtney left on Tuesday with two plane changes ahead of her, in Paris and Johannesburg but seemingly not at all nervous. She had a nasty moment in Paris, however, when an over officious official came and took her off the plane when she was already seated, demanding her ‘papers’. Hmph! Shades of the Gestapo! But she still wasn’t too worried. Leigh had sent us all the required papers for an under eighteen year old travelling alone, but since no-one had asked for them she didn’t produce them. I think for her, the worst moment was after he had grudgingly let her go, she had to clamber over the other passengers to regain her window seat, and rearrange all her belongings. After that, all went smoothly and she finally arrived safely in Cape Town. The text messages were flying back and forth keeping the whole family up to date on her progress. Sometimes mobile phones are a good thing.

As I mentioned, the other highlight was picking our first tomato. It was a good size and colour, and when we cut it, extremely tasty. When we bought the plants, we selected two plants each of three different varieties, but as they were not marked individually, we could not plant them out in pairs, as I would have preferred. There were two that produce large single tomatoes, two that produce something that is called ‘grappe’ here with several fruits on a single stalk, a bit like grapes and then two beef heart tomatoes which are very fleshy but less juicy. I have a feeling, looking at the rest of the crop that we are going to have to wait for a while and then we will suddenly be inundated. Oh well, in this house we can never have too many tomatoes.

As there is so little news this week,  thought I would just tell you a bit about things we have had to become accustomed to here in France. Probably the first one is the two hour lunch break that everyone still takes, except the supermarkets. When one’s day starts rather late anyway, and with  the main shops being nearly half an hour away, this has always been a problem for us, but we have solved it by getting up even later and doing all our shopping in the afternoon. Everything closes at 6 or 6.30 pm so it makes good sense.

Then there is this thing about kissing everyone when you meet. If it is business or someone you really don’t know, a handshake will do, but everyone else gets kisses and here in the Aveyron the custom is for three kisses although in other areas it is sometimes two – one on each cheek. Three is, of course, right, left and then right again.

On a quiet day, while walking along the pavement, passers-by will greet you. Children are taught to do this too, and there is something quite charming about being made to feel that one is part of the community, at every opportunity.

Post is delivered daily to the postbox at the gate, but so are parcels, so if we are expecting a parcel that may need to be signed for, we need to be up and decent by the time the postman arrives which is relatively early. I’m not quite sure what happens if there is no-one here to accept the parcel – perhaps they take it back and bring it back the next day. We have certainly never had a little illegible slip of paper left in the box telling us to collect a parcel from the post office. In fact, one day Neels was driving down the road and met the postie on the way up the hill. They stopped when the cars drew level and Neels was asked if anyone was home. Knowing I was still in bed when he left, he asked why and was handed a parcel through the car window, and signed for it too. I think we rather enjoy living in a very small village!

Bread! The French can’t make bread that will keep. Baguettes are delicious but have to be eaten at once unless you pop them straight into the freezer and reheat them later. They do sell standard square loaves made by various commercial bakers, but mostly they taste like cardboard. Kept in the fridge they will still be good after two weeks with no noticeable change in texture or flavour! A sandwich is very seldom two slices of a square loaf with a filling, more often it will be a length of halved baguette with a filling which makes a lot more bread to get through.

The grocery items I miss most are buttermilk, (they have never heard of it – even after I had found the correct word for it);  Cremora, (For our morning coffee in bed);  Bisto Instant Gravy powder ( I am a lazy cook and anyway, it makes great gravy)  Actually the Bisto can sometimes be found on what we call the ‘English Shelf’, where imported goods are displayed. Apart from that, we are spoilt for choice.

So for those of you who feel that we have forgotten everyone and everything and don’t miss anyone or anything, it really isn’t true. We do miss all our friends terribly but the choice has been made and there is no going back. In any case, I really do think that the pluses outweigh the minuses and we are slowly making friends here too.

Our place in France Chapter 67

Quite an active week for us especially as the activity only began halfway through the week.

Courtney arrived back safely from her two week stay with a friend who lives in the Aude department of France. For those who know where some of the French towns are, she lives near Carcassonne which is a completely restored medieval walled city, and a huge tourist attraction. They seem to have had a good time and she came back full of bounce and good spirits.

On Thursday Tilly arrived  to stay for a few days. As usual she brought with her a hurricane of busy-ness. Always so much to do and no time to do it. However we did all manage to fit in a lunch in Villeneuve, sitting in the slightly cooler ar of the square. It is always so picturesque and at the moment they have the whole square bedecked with pennants ad flags which makes it look even prettier. Of course we over-ate and came back home again to recover. But that was not to be as, a short while later a young lady came to the door and introduced herself as our neighbours’ daughter in law from Canada, and added that we had been invited for a drink. And to just come as we were. So off the four of us went and and discovered that apart from the daughter in law with her two sons aged 9and 7 years, her parents were also there. We sat  and chatted for a while out on the lawn at the back of the house and suddenly our neighbour, Laurent, said …..”And now, you stay for supper’. In spit of the fact that we had come empty handed, and our four people added to their seven made rather a crowd for an impromptu meal, he hear no protests and very soon we were all sitting down around a big table on the front verandah, in the last of the sunlight. We enjoyed a delicious meal of cold barbecued pork fillets, the remains of a roast chicken, salads and scrumptious farmhouse style bread, followed by about eight different cheeses and then melon slices or fresh nectarines. Certainly a meal fit for royalty and company to go with it. I’m sure I have said this before, but aq charming couple they are – so generous and hospitable.

One of the conditions of staying for a meal was athta we could leave straight after eating as Tilly had a very early start next morning, so at nine-thirty we made our excuses and said our thank yous and staggered off to bed having certainly eaten and drunk far too much for one day. I have to admit that I didn’t even hear Tilly leave at 4.30 the next morning but I so admire her dedication. The early start was to attempt to miss some of the weekend traffic on the way to her destination  - Cannes. She called us later to say that she had already arrived there so presumably the plan worked.

The rest of the weekend was spent helping Courtney sort out her clothes for her return to South Africa on Tuesday. It is so hot here that it is difficult to imagine that one might be very cold in SA, but she has sorted out her wardrobe and I have said I will pack for her, which I will probably do tomorrow. Tonight some of her friends are throwing a party for her because she is flying off which more or less gives one a picture of the kind of girls they all are. She is lucky to have blended so well with her fellow school mates.

Our garden is at last beginning to show signs of repaying the effort put into it, and although the rockery garden is a bit slow, and surrounded by weeds at the moment, it is coming along at last. However the veggie garden is Neels’ pride and joy. The sweetcorn is taller than Courtney, who is taller than I am, and there are about 7 or 8 cobs beginning to form. Yum! Yum! The tomatoes though are fantastic! I haven’t counted them but at a guess I would say there are in the region of 15 to 20 fruits in various stages of development. He is really thrilled to see how well the stuff grows. We are now trying to work out how to install an outside tap to make watering less of a mission. It would be quite a simple matter if we could just lead a hosepipe out of the workshop (where the tap is), through a small window at the other end of the area and down to the garden, but unfortunately, that little window looks out over the neighbours garden and is about two metres from our boundary. We’ll think of something, I’m sure.

Our place in France Chapter 66

My Goodness! This weather is crazy! Last week I was complaining about the heat – the excessive heat – and this week we are back to winter woollies and putting the duvet AND the bedspread back on the bed. Last week’s average temperatures were in the thirties, while since Tuesday we have been shivering in  high temps of fifteen. Personally, I’m delighted as I prefer cold to hot but it really is crazy. And the rain!! But then again, we don’t have to water all the flowers and vegetables. Silver linings all round, as you can see.

It wasn’t a madly exciting week this week. Most of it seemed to be spent in wasted time in waiting rooms of one sort or another. Wouldn’t you think that if a consultant of any sort was habitually delayed by his clients, causing successive clients to have wait for ages for their turn, that consultant should allocate more time to each client when the appointments were made? Seems simple to me but then what do I know; I’m just one of those waiting clients, wishing I’d done my shopping first instead of worrying that I would be late for an appointment.

Then of course, it poured with rain for most of the week, and as I have already mentioned, the temperature dropped to almost wintery levels. The lower part of our property has become decidedly mushy and the ground squelches when one walks on it. I get the feeling that the weatherman hasn’t really ever got the hang of ‘Everything in moderation’, as a maxim for life.

The house next door has had holiday tenants in it since Monday and we feel very sorry for them. It was still relatively warm when they arrived and I am sure they were looking forward to some lazy days by the pool, and that night the weather changed and it has been miserable ever since. They won’t have a good impression of the area at all. It has been very foggy too at times so going to visit some of the view sites was definitely out, but hopefully they will come again some time and see how wonderful and beautiful it is around here at this time of the year.

On Saturday afternoon we were engrossed in watching the start of the Tour de France when we became aware of an unusual amount of hooting going on outside. Ever curious we ran out to find out what was going on. It turned out to be a wedding procession and the lead car was doing a type of motorised ‘Conga Line’ through the village. The front car had a klaxon horn and everyone else was hooting madly – all thirty of them. Not sure where they ended up but it must have been somewhere in the village but away from the square, as we heard fireworks going off later in the evening and faint sounds of jollification.

Next morning, just before eleven, the church bell started tolling solemnly, one clang at a time. This time we didn’t go running out to see what was what as it could only have been a funeral and was pouring with icy cold rain. As Neels says, this may well be a very quiet little village but there is always something going on.

Todays picture is of the hanging basket of petunias on the front verandah taken, luckily before the rain and windstorm. They look a little sad now but I am hoping they will perk up again.