Very Little Progress

Monday was just like a Sunday.  French people were all preparing for Tuesday's Bank Holiday [ie taking the day off].  I went all the way to Bergerac to get the sump cover put back on the car properly but the garage is taking un pont, ie the day between one day off and another becomes a 'bridge'.  Everyone's talking about Francois Hollande's victory and what it means for the Euro. Views ranged from the Euro falling to 1.30 to the £ to the total and utter collapse of the currency.  We'll see. I had a bonfire, just a small one because I'm fed up with them by now.  The old chap came to cut the grass which was knee-high.  The weather was quite warm but clouded over later.  I didn't really do much because I was 'thinking' about the landscaping.  Not a very productive day.  Good news though - the circus packed up the Big Top. Hooray!

Tuesday was wet, grey, gloomy.  Very quiet.  The second of 4, yes, 4, bank holidays in the month of May.  Some shops were open but not many.  There was a service at the war memorial as it's Victory in Europe Day.  [Most towns and villages have a street called 8 mai 1945].  The circus still hadn't moved on, although everything was packed away.  I fell asleep in the afternoon - obviously not used to all this physical work - which means that I missed the sunny part of the day.

Wednesday started gloomy and wet, for a change.  After a trip to the garage and the bank I returned home to find the weather was lovely and the circus were starting to move off.  It took them all day to leave the Poney Club and it involved a lot of tractors and noise because the large vehicles were bogged down - but at least they've gone.  The temperature got up to 28 in the afternoon so I tidied up some more of the garden and got really overheated.  The lesson of the day was 'If you throw stuff into a wheelbarrow inaccurately the entire thing will tip over and you'll have to start all over again'.  I wish I'd played more netball at school!

Thursday dawned bright and sunny and bought a bill from the digger man.  Deep breath and write cheque!  Waited until 3pm for anyone to turn up. Ian came for a couple of hours and did some useful work but nothing from Darren until 6.30 when he phoned to say that he had been at the hospital with his daughter all day and had to take her to Toulouse tomorrow and Saturday for tests.  Result = no micro station for me this week!  Some sad news from Polly.  Chris has been in Malawi all week having a good time- well, working really - but I can't Skype him, so I've got to make a decision about when Darren does the work [either when I'm there or when I return from UK].

Weather was in the 30s with the same forecast for tomorrow. From the ridiculous to the sublime!  Can't wait to get back to England and have a long, luxurious bath.

Election Weekend

Saturday good ole Darren turned up to sort out the soil pipes. I now have a working loo!!!!  This means that I can take the antkiller packets off the floor as I had left them there to remind me not to flush the loo.

I saw a notice for the circus, it's just Saturday, for one night only, that's not too bad.  It appears to be all horses, which explains the lack of tigers.  I had visions of having to defend myself against an enraged wild animal with just a pair of secateurs or similar.

Anyway, I went to the market, had a coffee, did some shopping then went out for lunch. More bonfire time in the afternoon. Got told off by the neighbour [not Mme B, the other one, Didier] because the JCB driver had churned up the grass at the side of the road and now Didier can't mow it. He's a bit anal but I pulled all the appropriate faces and shrugged a lot.

The circus boomed across the fields so I just sampled a local wine and tried to ignore it.  The noise went on til around 11.30 - not too bad.  The advertisements which had been put up had been more or less destroyed by the rain and there didn't seem to be many people there, which made me happy because that will mean they won't do it again.

Sunday was colder and raining on and off again.  Listened to the news on the radio.  Some pundits are saying Boris Johnson is the answer for the Conservatives - if that's the case, I'd just like to know what the question is!

As it was too miserable to do anything in the garden I took myself off to do some washing but couldn't get a parking space as the boulangerie next door was madly busy.  So I went for a coffee to mix with all the voters exiting the poll stations, it was quite a sociable occasion.  I was served a really overpriced, overstrong coffee at Le Globetrotter [that has to be said with a French accent by the way] which ensured that I wouldn't sleep for at least 24 hours.

After coffee, a return trip to the laundrette, which somehow managed to embed stains into the fabrics instead of removing them, and then home.   My relief at the relatively unobtrusive circus performance last night was completely dissipated by the noise coming from the tent all day.  Techno music until mid afternoon when, suddenly, it changed to Bob Marley which was a definite improvement.

The weather had improved somewhat so five hours of tidying up the garden followed by dinner, marred only by the discovery that one of the caravan cupboards is very damp.  I thought it was due to the slightly wet weather we've had but it could equally be due to a leaky shower.

And I've discovered a great lump of plastic is falling off the underneath of my car.  The garage tomorrow!

Annie's Ark

The circus seems to have settled in, although there have not been any performances yet and I haven't heard any roaring at night.  Despite the meteo, it rained during the night so I decided to finally plant the lavateria.  My arthritis is very bad at the moment, I think it's the continual cold and wet.  Everything takes a lot of effort and pain.  It was exceedly hard work and half way through the morning I thought I had got trench foot as my feet were slopping around in my soaking trainers.  I decided that sweating in my wellies was better than that. 

I saw this, didn't recognise it but thought it was rather nice

Jeremy continued to dig holes and play with his big machines.

Darren popped around to give me the cheque back as when I paid him last week, I had forgotten to sign it.  Felt really stupid.   While he was here as asked him about these pains in my legs.  As an ex-professional cricketer, he knows a lot about injuries.  He said that I really ought to rest it so I gave up the digging - but I had worked for 5 hours and got the plants in.  Yay!  The first positive thing that I've done in the garden - it's all been destruction and demolition up til now.

So after lunch I laid down for a couple of hours then stoked up the fire and tried to do some more clearing in the garden but a storm had blown up.  If anyone ever wants to know how to keep a bonfire going in a storm, it will probably be a chapter in my forthcoming book entitled 'Why I hate France'.

Jeremy tidied up and left, forgetting to replace the soil pipes.  So I still cannot flush the loo.

The rain just didn't soak into the ground - I guess it's too waterlogged. The wind was biting but the sun came out occasionally.  A funny old day.  A sunny evening and I was delighted to see 2 African Hoopoes playing in the garden for ages. 

One of the Hoopoes.

Birds like this garden and particularly at the moment, because a lot of the land has been turned over and there are countless big fat worms around.

Annie's Ark - I expect the circus will provide the animals.
I wonder how Noah managed without the Internet.

The antkiller's worked a treat so that's good.
Oh God, what I would give for a bath................

I am so tired I am not sure I can write this......

The morning didn't live up to the forecast, although it was quite pleasant. I felt quite optimistic [you know it's going to go wrong at this point].  I was up and doing things in the garden early.  Thought I'd better have another bonfire, haven't had one for days.  Got it going well and lobbed a few trees on it.  Jeremy was in his JCB - the new pecker has stopped working!  Darren passed by on his way to another job because there's not much he can do until the holes are dug.  I moved a lot of debris, watered the plants that are still waiting to be planted and then carried on moving rubbish around and generally tidying up.  

About 11.30 I went back into the caravan and realised we had no power.  I tracked the power cable and realised that the cable had been pulled out of the socket. Unfortunately, that was the final straw for the socket but I managed to find another one.

Once the power was reconnected, I was having major problems connecting with the internet and couldn't find the password so I tried to phone Chris but couldn't get through. I texted and in the end he managed to get through to my cell phone but reception is so shite here that we couldn't hear each other.  I did what I always do in times of stress I went to see Kevin and Judith and ask their advice.  Jeremy had gone to lunch by this time so I had to throw water over the fire to put it out [luckily we do seem to have plenty of water], I had to shower and went to their house to ask their advice but everything seemed all right there.  I went to our local town Ste Foy la Grande with a view to having something decent for lunch. Got some fruit and veg inside me for once.  I was in a better reception area and had a chat with Chris and then with Kate.  I tried to get through to Darren but couldn't.  Chris suggested that I check to see whether Jeremy had cut the telephone line as well.  Good idea I thought. 

It's very pretty for something that's 750 years old!

I made the most of the, now, summery weather 24C and took some photos of the town and the river then headed home around 2.30.  

The River was in full flow

Jeremy still wasn't back from lunch so I had a look at the telephone line and, lo and behold, it was snapped clean through.  OK so now I know what the problem is but don't know how to get it repaired.  Back to Kevin and Judith's to use their internet connection and Chris suggests that I ask Patrick the plumber/electrician.  He said he'd come and have a look.   I was pretty frazzled by now but things seemed to be working out so I was quite upbeat when I got home to be told that Jeremy had gone through the water main!  The hole for the micro station was now looking like a reasonably small and rather manky swimming pool.  Oh God!  Jeremy phoned the Town Hall [I don't know why, that's apparently what you do in times of crisis here] and we waited for an  hour or so for someone to turn up.  I lit another bonfire, out of habit and did some more clearing up. 

In the meantime Patrick turned up, sorted out the electricity and the phone line and when the water workers arrived, he got stuck in with them.

Lots of men deciding what to do.

  The pecker man arrived with the third pecker of the week.  A bigger one, isn't it funny how men alwas think bigger will be better.  I left them all to it and went to see Mme B to explain why she didn't have any water.  She was fine about it.  Patrick left without being paid.  I'm sure he'll be back some time.  I asked Jeremy to cover the telephone line with wood.  He said yes but he hasn't done it yet.  I asked him to replace the soil pipes so that I can flush the loo and he said he would do it tomorrow when everything has been tidied up.  I know that I should have insisted but I was too tired so still no loo in the caravan.  

The combination of some hard physical work and  the stress of everything has left me totally exhausted.  I dragged myself around the house to lock up, made a meal of cold ham and tomatoes [yuk!] and then I emailed Darren "Taken to drink!  Knock gently on caravan tomorrow morning." 

I had to wait for the fire to die down enough before I could go to bed.  But then the circus started playing music at around 10pm and I've lost all my earplugs...............

Work recommenced and stopped again

A bright morning, no wild animals in the garden and nothing appears to have been nicked.  A JCB appeared out of the morning mist like something out of The War of the Worlds.

I buggered off to the laundrette in the hope that clothes would end up slightly cleaner than they started [a forlorn hope as it turned out].  I also bought some ant killer which they tucked into with gusto.

By the time I returned there was Darren, Jeremy with the JCB and another guy with a digger with a 'pecker', which is supposed to smash the rocks at the bottom of the trench for the micro station.

One man and his pecker!

That broke so he went to get a bigger one.  There has been a lot of discussion about the possible need for dynamite, which is going to cost a helluva lot of money so we are hoping we won't need it.  I think it's that French thing where they want you to be very grateful so they imply it's all going to be worse than it is.  And then they finally do what you originally asked them to do and you're so relieved you think they're brilliant.

Discussing whether or not dynamite is needed.

Sadly, it was time to get rid of the prunus trees, which I love and which were just about to fruit, but which were in the way of the JCB.

Bye bye trees

Jeremy went home later this morning because he was unwell.  I went to buy a number 2 to put on our letter box.   Apparently a world shortage.  I ended up going into Bergerac and arrived just after midday so everything was shut.  I had two hours to kick my heels so I had a disgusting sandwich and cuppa at the garden centre and lusted over plants [prunus trees are 100 euros] until the shop was open and finally returned triumphant to stick my number 2 on our post box.

The pecker guy appears to have come back for a bit but he was definitely gone for good by the time I returned at 2.30.  So, to recap, the day started well but everyone buggered off by lunchtime and left me without a toilet.  A bit of weeding, a bit of gardening, a lot of clearing up. 

We have discovered a big attractive arch which was half-uncovered by the demolition.  A rethink of the plans is required.  That reminds me I asked the architect for an appointment 2 weeks ago and haven't heard back.  Still, we owe him money..........

Finally finished my twelfth doughnut, it was a bit of a challenge but I lived up to it. Now have to get through the night without a toilet - a bigger challenge.

The circus tent is now up, but it is right over the other side of the Poney Club which isn't too bad, but I'm still concerned about it.

I was just pouring a glass of local red when Chris Skyped.  How does he do that every bloody time?  Can he hear the cork from the other side of the planet.  But I did get an hour in the garden [ie building site] watching the sun go down through the bottom of a glass.

Public Holiday 1 mai and I really didn't see this coming

A night with no rain, creepily quiet.
The fridge seems to have got over its hissy fit yesterday.
I should have done a few jobs in the garden but wasn't in the mood.  I just got ready for Joris and Patricia to arrive as they had agreed to accompany me to the festivities in the village.
A repas dansant starting at 12.30pm.  I had warned Patricia that we had to se munir de son couvert ie bring your own stuff but when I checked with her it seemed that she thought that meant to bring your own cutlery but previous experience led me to believe that it meant cutlery, plates, glasses, napkins etc. so we packed everything just in case and headed off.  We arrived around 12.40 to find the outside deserted, everyone seated at their tables and ready to go.  Just 3 sad little empty places remained, each marked by a sad little plastic cup. There was a frosty atmosphere and our smiles were ignored, although our money was accepted!!  Luckily we had all the stuff and settled ourselves down.  The overall atmosphere was not welcoming at all. We had some nice neighbours although the man to my right seemed to have some sort of speech impediment.

Joris and I were the only non French people as far as I could tell and people commented on the fact that Patricia is of Parisienne origin.  She was definitely the youngest there, followed by Joris and then possibly by me.

Patricia and Joris watching the dancing

Most of the men had emulated Jackie Charlton, or is it Bobby?, or didn't have enough hair to worry about.  The Paso Doble was the dance de jour, along with something called the Madison, which all the ladies did in a line.  They were adorned in a range of knitted tops, hair pieces and false teeth and each serveuse was a dead ringer for Mrs Overall.  If the cultural reference of that escapes you, then sorry!  Suffice to say that I got hit on the head a couple of times by a shaky serving tray.

The band, the dancing girls and our table

Well the food and drink came fast and furious, toasts, omelette a l'aillet [omelette and garlic stems in equal measures], pork with orange, salade, cheese and copious red wine.  After the cheese course, we decided the heat of the room, the enticing sunshine outside and the dreadful music meant that we should beat a strategic retreat.  We went without dessert and coffee.

A singularly depressing experience. 

Now for the bit I really didn't see coming.
After settling myself back in the caravan and sitting down to write my blog, I was astonished to see a number of circus vehicles go up the road and turn into the Poney Club.  An animal vehicle, a dismantled big top and several other lorries and caravans.  I like being amongst people and enjoy having people around, but a circus...........      No circus has been advertised so I don't understand what's going on.  I bet it's not good news though.  The next field is full of wild animals and gypsies.

April showers, my a**e

Guess what?  Weather cold and very wet.  I find myself talking to the birds.  I've decided this can't go on.  I need to do something energetic so I launch myself into spring cleaning, then had a brainwave.  I wait til the rain eases off a bit then clean the windows and caravan outside.  All covered in mould - hardly surprising.  I only wash and don't rinse and I will let the rain rinse everything off.  I KNOW that there will be no more rain!!   Ha!  Fooled you, weather Gods.  Bastard weather Gods get their own back by recommencing the relentless downpour.  Still, at least the windows are clean.  I then clean all the venetian blinds, each little slat at a time.  Then clean anything else that doesn't move. 

The fridge appears to be on the blink.  Or perhaps it just thinks it's so cold that it doesn't need to bother. Not sure.  I brave the rain to go to the shops for cleaning stuff [twice as I forgot to get teatowels the first time and ours are all manky as hell!!].  I seem to drive sideways out of the garden but at least we get out both times.  I promise the car I will give it a much needed clean if it doesn't rain tomorrow.  I snort in derision at the thought of a sunny day and I imagine the car does too.  See, I'm even talking to the car now. 

Tomorrow is a public holiday so the shop was heaving but I got to have a bit of human contact with a man who wanted me to give blood and then turned me down flat once I told him I'd had malaria in the past.  But I did get a result, mini doughnuts pack of 8 with 50% extra free.  Twelve doughnuts to nibble while I sit in the caravan this evening.  Unfortunately they are filled with some sort of artificial gel which manages to curl my toes before it's even got to my oesophegus, so I'll have to cut that out before I eat them.

After 5 [doughnuts, that is, not the time of day] I gave up and decided to go for empty calories in the form of alcohol.  There was an hour when the rain stopped in the evening. I cleaned the car windows because I'd sort of promised and because I can hardly seen through them.  God, these caravan windows are clean!

By 10pm it hasn't rained for four hours, the silence in the caravan is eerie.  I've lost all sense of perspective of a world that isn't semi-submerged.  I am very happy that Kate spent the weekend in 30C in Cannes, but I wish she hadn't told me!

If it's raining tomorrow, I don't think I'll be able to stand it.

ps  Darren still hasn't built an Ark.  Very remiss of him, he could have made a lot of money this week.

More of the same but worse

Thursday, Friday, Saturday, the days all merged into one long unpleasant memory.  The caravan's a greenhouse,  the car struggles to to get out of the quagmire which used to be our garden.  The flower beds are unworkable and it's even difficult to have a bonfire, but I keep trying. Clothes are caked in wet mud which eventually turns to dry mud.  It's still raining. No work being done in house or garden. Trying to plan the garden but have to do it from photos as it is too wet and misty to go out there and pace it out.  Lots of early evening glasses of wine. The forecast is for heavy rain, punctuated by light showers. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get through this.  Sometimes I feel like I'm in solitary confinement.  Now I've started talking to myself to help me through the days, as often the rain is too heavy to be able to hear music or the radio.  No electricity in the bedroom, so cold at night. A bit of an ant fest in the kitchen and lounge.  This really has been a very difficult time -  but little did I know that it was going to get worse.

By Saturday evening the continual heavy downpours had formed a hole in the roof of the house over what was, at some point in its history, the kitchen.  The water spread through the house and eventually the electric wires on the floor gave up and the whole system died.  It was around 9.30 pm, and very dark.

The garden was churned up by the machinery and, in parts, 20 cm deep in water, the house was taking in water at a rate similar to the Titanic.  I lifted the electric cables out of the water, [NB I have since been told that that was a very stupid thing to do as I lifted them by hand and I was standing in a couple of inches of water] checked that they were unlikely to get any wetter, locked the house  - God knows why I bothered - grabbed some clean undies, a toothbrush and my laptop and handbag and got in the car, praying that I would be able to get it out of the boggy mess that used to be the garden.  With luck and a prayer I got out.  I had been faced with a choice, a night in the caravan with no heating, lighting, phone or a night in a chambre d'hote.  My first port of call was Judith and Kevin, who offered me a bed for the night and the offer was far too good to turn down.  They're not without their own water-related problems.  The water table is so high that their gite has water coming through the floor and their ceiling is leaking.  A restless night, and not a happy one, but at least I had company and warmth.

Sunday started with the sun shining through the rain, for a while at least. I got up and went straightaway to the house, where things were looking [a little] better.  I checked the fuse box but couldn't see anything that might help.  After discussion with Judith and Kevin, and a look at their fuse box, I went back and had another try and voila, I managed to get everything working.

More mud and rain

Darren came around this morning to tidy up and tell me that he's not really able to do anything else until the man turns up with the big digger.  I knew it was going to happen but I felt really low.  So I took myself off to see a man about a second hand above-ground pool.  Complete with all accessories, filter and chemicals for 50 euro.  Bought it!   Chris can put it all together when he comes in May.  God bless the internet!

I then went to see someone who had given me a load of cardboard last week but she was out and by then I was cold, windswept and grumpy so I thought I had better eat.  I went to a little restaurant that Chris and I sometimes use but the food was just OK and the service was the same, don't think I'll go there again.  I had intended to go to the Laundrette again as I seem to have anther bag of smelly, muddy clothes but I couldn't face it so I went home, unloaded all the pool stuff and decided to have a cuppa and a sleep to make up for all the hours I've missed in the past couple of nights.  I was just settling down when a chap arrives chez moi with a box.  It's the plants I've ordered, which got here in double-quick time precipitating a crisis as they are rootballs and not in pots and the beds aren't ready and the soil is to heavy for me to lift.  I dragged myself to 3 shops to try and buy small plant pots, just plastic or degradable ones and eventually found some in the fourth shop.  So when I got home I opened up the house and got a bag of compost.  I had intended to pot them in the house but it was freezing so I decided to do it in the caravan, white carpet or no white carpet.  [Don't worry, Chris, the carpet hasn't actually been white for over 2 weeks].  I was just getting dragging a bag of compost from the house to the caravan when the phone rang and it was Jeremy who is the man with the big digger[!] who wanted to come and look at the job.  I managed to get hold of Darren and let him know so he raced back from wherever while I kept Jeremy entertained in the meantime with fascinating stories of how I managed to find myself living in a freezing cold caravan etc etc.

Upshot is that Jeremy thinks he can do it at the beginning of next week so that means there won't be too much of a delay.  Now all we've got to do is find out how much it's going to cost.

Returning to the plants, I realised that the pots I'd bought were too small so I hared off to the shop again, got there just before it closed to find that they don't have any bigger ones AT ALL.  So I swallowed my resentment at living in this backwater and drove 25 kilometres to a garden centre where eventually I found some plastic plant pots. Yay!  Drove 25 km back, made a jacket potato and sat looking at 22 very sad looking plants and a giant bag of compost which were together taking up almost the entire kitchen floor.  Had a hissy fit and threw the bag of compost outside.

I looked at the long-term weather forecast.  Apparently the sun is due to shine a week next Sunday.  Honest!  I think I'm going to go to bed.  It's all getting too much for me.

Tomorrow's a new day and I need to sleep.

The worst day so far.

It got off to a bad start as several very heavy showers during the night prevented me getting a decent night's sleep.  I was fed up as I waited for the dumper driver [due 8.30, arrived 7.20 and didn't come to get his money].  I tried preparing the 40 metre bed but the ground is so wet it's like clay.  I had to give up as my boots were too heavy to walk in.  So I glooped and sloshed my way back to the caravan, very despondent.

The dumper driver brought another skip, which we hadn't asked for and I washed my wellies and got water in them.

By 9am I was ready to crawl back into bed. Thought I'd try looking on the bright side.

The good things in my life:
1. the caravan is waterproof and windproof.
2. this can't go on forever.
3. Beth's doing well
Oh well, that didn't take long.

When Darren and Stuart turned up, the weather was diabolical again so they came in the caravan for a cuppa.  Things are always better when there's someone to chat to.  But unfortunately it looks like they're going to have to desert the job as the site is pretty much unworkable, particularly as Darren has to re-lay the cement terrace once the micro station is in place.  The 15-day weather forecast is, basically, rain and more rain with some showers and a few storms.

I braved the temperamental shower and did feel a lot better after a good clean up.  Headed out to the hypermarket to stock up and to the bank to stock up!  At midday in Ste Foy la Grande it was 7degrees.  That's not even a daytime temperature unless you're in an Arctic region. Maybe that's it.  Perhaps I'm in the wrong country.  I went for lunch at the usual restaurant, where I was greeted as an old friend and he enquired after Chris's whereabouts and wished me Bon Courage as I left.

But we did have half an hour's sunshine later when I ran out and took these photos of the terrace being dismantled.

It will eventually run the whole length of the front of the house, but only 1 metre wide.

One day, this will be half my kitchen

The demolition is practically complete and tidied up, despite the appalling conditions.  They have worked really hard and Darren has often worked late in the evening but the weather has made it really difficult for them.

A brief burst of sunlight in the early evening meant that I could go out and shovel organic manure into the raised beds, oh bliss... not!!

This one's for Chris showing the area where the
pine, bramble and pyracantha [which he hated] have been removed

My hands are all blistered, my toenails are falling off, everything aches.  I want to go home.

My car's anniversary

Today's our anniversary, one whole month with my own little car.  Yay!!

I was woken up by the bad tempered dumper driver.  I knew that I knew him but couldn't remember who he was.  After a couple of embarrassing minutes, he dropped the skip and left.

The plumber arrived, looked at the tap and left without a word but he was back within the hour to replace it.  Manure arrived, man came to clean the old fosse so that Darren can decommision it [after the new one arrives....].  There was a drama with this as he said he couldn't possibly bring his lorry onto the garden as it is so full of shit that it is incredibly heavy and the ground is too soft.  Eventually parked his lorry at the front and ran a pipe around to the fosse.  We always knew he would but the shoulder shrugging and deep sighing are things that just have to be got through!

Bit of male bonding before the fosse is cleaned out

So far, not a bad day except the guy didn't turn up to give us a quote for the big digger and Mr bad tempered dumper driver didn't come back til late afternoon to take the full skip and he didn't leave us an empty one.  He also made a drama out of the whole thing by saying that the skip was too full and therefore too heavy. Cue for more shoulder shrugging and sighing.  He loaded it fine!  Quelle surprise! He finally returned with an empty skip and said he would be back at 8.30am tomorrow to collect it.  I think Darren and Stuart just wanted to get rid of everything so they agreed. 

I was intending to prepare the 40 metre bed for the imminent arrival of the Lavateria plants but it was too damn wet and cold.  I didn't achieve much at all apart from overcoming my conviction that fires will do something nasty the minute your back is turned, which meant that I could run a big fire in the house and a bonfire in the garden in the morning.

The view from the caravan 2 weeks ago.

More or less same view today

The sun finally came out for a little while in the early evening, just a few minutes to encourage us to think that maybe the weather was turning, but then the rain came back with a vengeance.  It's really difficult to hear anything in a caravan during the driving rain so DVDs and podcasts were out of the question.  I snuggled up with a book.

So, more rubble to dispose of

Darren was out there til after 7, getting all the rubble in the skip.  I hope the weather's better tomorrow because I am going to have to work in the garden.

A quiet weekend in the country

Despite a healthy [or unhealthy] dose of alcohol on Friday evening, I didn't sleep well so Saturday morning I opened the curtains and watched the sky lighten and listened to the rain on the caravan and the birds singing in a determinedly joyful way.  I wondered whether I had woken up at Glastonbury, boggy fields, mud up to my knees and debris everywhere.  It looks like every photo I have ever seen of Glastonbury, minus the music and drugs.  Even I know that my collection of 2 CDs does not amount to a music fest.  In addition, my bloody arthritis is getting worse. The weekend was a mixture of a sudden burst of housekeeping, taking my bag of smelly muddy clothes to the laundrette, collecting cardboard, and completing distribution of said cardboard in the raised beds in the middle of a downpour [this done in my mac and wellies over my pyjamas, which goes to show that living in the middle of nowhere can have its advantages].

There they are, just waiting for some horse manure

I could have lit a big fire in the house or I could have read through some of my gardening books or I could have done some cooking but I did none of those things.  I slobbed.  I did briefly visit Joris and Patricia for a coffee. But basically, it was a 'nothing' weekend for me.

The Poney Club held a spectacle on Saturday night, starting at 9.30, with a band.  I put cotton wool in my ears, took a tablet and didn't wake til morning.

Darren didn't come on Saturday as it would have been almost impossible to move the digger around. I asked him to build me an Ark next week if the rain doesn't hold off a bit.  On Sunday he took the pine roots out, although, unsurprisingly, it was not without its problems but he managed most of them.

Oh good! Yet another bonfire

At the time of writing, I am expecting that tomorrow I will see Darren and Stuart, the plumber, the arrival of the skip, a load of manure and possibly receive some plants by mail order.  I am confident that I will see Darren and Stuart but let's see about everything else...............

It felt gross...................

Weather continues cold and showery with the odd sunny spell.  This morning it was so cold that my arthritis made my hands zing, not in a good way.

I continued with my cardboard hunt and headed off to the supermarkets and the wine shop before going to pick some up from a chap who had offered it via the Internet [honest!].  Anyway, he lived quite a way away but I thought it would be a good opportunity to have a drive around and it was quite pleasant.  However when I got to his house, which was in the middle of absolutely nowhere, 8 kms from the nearest village, it looked very rundown and overrun with cats.  I wandered around, knocking on some of the windows and eventually found him.  He was old, very grubby,in  filthy clothes, unshaven with weepy eyes and there was something terribly unsavory about him.  I was really spooked and with every passing minute, the feeling got worse.  I was very aware that no one on earth knew where I was, my nearest relative was 8 hours away and I probably wouldn't be missed for a long while if I disappeared.  He wanted me to drive my car around the back but I said that I didn't want to and just kept loading up the cardboard.  My unease grew - I just don't know why - after all I'm a bit long in the tooth to be kept as a sex slave!!

I took my cellphone from the car and started talking into it as if I were talking to Darren, saying  'Yes, I'll be back as soon as I can.  You know where I am, I'm about 8 kms from xxxx on the road to xx, picking up cardboard.'  Then I put down the phone and had a bit of a rant about builders.  Despite repeated requests to come into the house for coffee, I refused, saying that I had to get back by 12 or Darren was going to walk off the job, rolling my eyes at the general stroppiness of English workmen.  I revved up and rushed off.   It felt gross!!

Poor Darren was slogging away at the house, totally unaware of course.  But we did laugh about it later.  I said  'Maybe I overreacted, maybe I'm a bit mad.' and he replied 'Well, yes but that doesn't make you a bad person.' which was not my preferred response.  Perhaps he's been taking lessons from Chris.

Anyway, back in the real world.. Seal does not do it for me after Adele, although I bloody love some of the tracks.   So in the car, I'm listening to Adele again.

I bought some wine for emergencies, like thirst, celebrating the weekend, etc etc and then I went out for lunch as I thought I deserved a treat.  I went to the same restaurant as last week as the food is always good and this time the waiter treated me like a long-lost buddy and then asked if I were on my own.  Resisting the temptation to do a John Cleese and look around in amazement as if my coterie of hangers-on has just disappeared into thin air, I agreed with him that I was, indeed, on my own.  The food was delicious and I relaxed after my overwrought morning.

The afternoon was less exciting and more productive.  We received a very official looking letter from the Prefet, which always turns the stomach to water, but in fact it was just to say that we don't need permission to demolish the 4 rooms that we have just demolished.  Lucky break!  I smashed some more tiles in the potager, spread the cardboard and paper over the tiles in 3 of the 6 beds.  It was backbreaking work but I guess it's good exercise.  Darren has been digging away and started the hole for the micro station, next to the caravan.  It's not quite as bad as he thought it might be but we're still going to have to get in a majorly enormous bit of kit to deal with the over-engineered paths behind the house!

Darren, the demanding demolition man!!  Taken from the caravan

I visited both sets of neighbours to ask if they minded us having the machines working on Sunday. Mme B was fine about it and also donated some old newspapers for the potager and showed me the tent which has been blowing around her land since last Sunday and has now settled in a valley.  Didier was also fine about it but he was a bit worried because Chris had given him the impression that we were going to plant a hedge on the boundary.  I explained that we are planting lavateria which grow to about 1 metre and he was a lot happier.  I also explained that Chris knows buggerall about gardening.  We had a little chat and I found myself again doing all those funny little French shrugs and signals [easier than trying to speak the language!!].  Actually, things must be improving.  I no longer wonder whether they will understand me, I wonder how they will react to what I say.

I phoned the plumber and left a message asking him to put in a new tap on the front of the house as the present one leaks like buggery and he phoned back later and said he would be around ce soir
to have a look and would do the job on Monday.   However recent experiences with this plumber left me less than convinced that he would turn up.  In the event, experience triumphed over optimism!!

Around 6pm  the weather degenerated, which is good for the garden, especially for the cardboard, which needs to mulch down.  [I must say this organic business changes your view about a lot of things].  It's not so good for me as it got colder and I couldn't hear Radio 4's finest so I opened some wine...  Not so good either for the Poney Club who are rehearsing for their spectacle which takes place tomorrow night.  I wouldn't mind going but it doesn't start til 9pm so think earplugs are a more likely option.

The weather improved a bit and faced with a choice of evening activities, it was either to have some wine or develop my mental health issues so I decided to make life easier for my immediate family [long-term] and go for the alcohol option.

Weather forecast for tomorrow - grim!

Bad news or disaster?

The view from the caravan today

A lot of demolition got done today.  The weather continued to fluctuate between heavy showers and warm sunshine.  The wind continues cold.

The back rooms come down

The two back rooms were completely demolished and a good start was made on digging up the path around the house in order to sort out the drains. 

I spent the day either smashing up roof tiles in the raised beds with a sledgehammer or searching in all the supermarkets and the local dump for cardboard to use in the very same organic raised beds.  Consequently my arms are feeling very odd and I am feeling very rejected as apparently asking for cardboard rates on approximately the same level as asking for drugs - and it elicits more or less the same shocked response.  I also phoned the dumper people several times on Darren's behalf but the lady in the office had definitely taken against Darren and was determined to be as unhelpful as possible.

On the plus side, I doubled the size of my CD collection when my new CD arrived.  Sorry, Adele, you are not the only game in town any more.  The Seal CD was not as jaw droppingly spine tingling as Adele's masterpiece but his rendition of Stand By Me was pretty wonderful.
I did manage to get one of the raised beds covered in paper and cardboard in between heavy showers.
Darren didn't leave til around 7pm, partly because he wanted to get a lot of the demolition done and partly because he discovered that the floors in the extension are all around 20 cm thick with steel reinforcing rods all the way through.  His machine cannot possibly deal with that.  This has led him to believe that the floors in the back rooms are VERY thick reinforced concrete and could not be dug up without the use of such a large machine that we could have to knock the walls down to enable it to enter the house.

Everyone's gone home to reflect on today's findings

We can deal with the interior problems, maybe by installing the underfloor heating on top of the existing floor - the ceilings are high enough - or at least we can consider when we know the exact state of the floor.  But today's problem means that Darren can either run the drains around the outside of the demolished rooms or we can hire a proper mega enormous bit of kit and get all those external floors up now and he can do the job properly.  We are talking a few thousand euros so a big decision.
So all I had to do now was explain the situation to Chris in Angola....

I had intended to go out and have a meal tonight but I wasn't really in the mood, so I made myself something from the freezer and sat silently in the gloom, the noise from my BBC podcast drowned out by the rain.  I ran out of wine.  Not the best evening of my life.....

As they say in the film, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, 'It'll be all right in the end, if it's not all right, it's not the end'

Decent rains at last

I intended to get up late today but I was thwarted by the builders turning off the electricity to move the cable.  Consequently I was so cold I had to get dressed.  My arthritis is really bad as a result of the cold weather so I wasn't the happiest bunny in the world.

The heavy showers that had lulled me to sleep last night continued all day, with sunny periods in between.  Great for the garden but not so much for the builders.  The wooden rafters were pretty slippery but they carried on regardless except when things were really dire and the rain was sheeting down. 

Cutting through the rafters [between showers]

They had another bonfire and I lit a big fire in the house to warm it through a bit.  After 10 days of almost continuous burning, I now find I have slightly more wood than I started with.  It's Hellish.

The micro station hadn't arrived by lunchtime, neither had the empty skip so tempers were a little on the short side.

Getting there!

In the afternoon I attempted to get a hot shower, I managed a tepid one, which turned very hot and finished with a flourish of freezing water.  It's the gas boiler's way of showing who's boss!  But, even so, after a shower and hairwash I felt substantially better.

They started the demolition which was noisy - to be expected - but it did seem to involve a lot of stonework landing on the caravan.  I felt totally under siege, even when they shouted 'Sorry' and I was stressed anyway because I was still trying to decipher the instructions on how to put the brushcutter together.  It wasn't a linguistic problem, the instructions were in English.  I just couldn't understand the sodding pictures.  I think I've managed it now.

At the end of the day

Thank God the weather turned bad and they gave it up around 4.30 and went home, still without micro station and the skip.

Both of these last 2 photos were taken from inside the caravan - too damn wet to venture outside!

A long lonely evening beckoned so I decided to get to grips with all my websites on French gardens, no-dig gardens, lasagne gardens, irrigation, ecological pools etc etc.  It needed doing and it was helped along with a drop of French finest and some hot soup.  I only gave up when the cold threatened to send my arthritis to unacceptable levels of pain. 

Sleep was prevented most of the night by the rain pounding on the roof.  I keep telling myself that it's good for the garden.  I really could not have forseen a retirement like this!!

I'm living on a building site....

..... and I'm definitely not complaining, I've been waiting to write those words for ages!!

Work started today on demolishing another four rooms, so we'll be left with half the number we started with. 'We'll have 9 big rooms instead of 19 small ones.  One of the rooms, pictured below with a ladder at the window, has no door!!  It had a load of old tat in it dating back almost 40 years and it all had to be thrown out of the window and then I was put in charge of - I can't believe it - burning the rubbish.  Oh well it's got to be done.  I reckon that the next time they elect a Pope, they'll invite me to do the smoke signals, I've had so much practice.

There was lots of personal stuff there and it seemed such a shame that it was being chucked onto a fire by a total stranger but I guess if they'd wanted it, they'd have taken it when they left.

View from the caravan door towards the area to be demolished

The roof tiles were removed and put into the raised beds.  At the moment they seem to fill them up but once they've been smashed up and they've settled down a bit they should be fine.  So another step towards our organic garden.   Hooray!

The guys worked steadily all day and it was nice to have some company.  Falling roof tiles caused 2 holes in the soil pipe which goes from the caravan to the septic tank, but that should be a thing of the past very soon, I hope, once the new micro station is installed.  So it's not a disaster.  Seven hours later, thank God, it started to rain heavily so I crawled into the caravan in the hope of a hot shower.  Got a tepid one!

It's difficult to tell from this picture but the roof tiles have all been removed from the 4 rooms, just the rafters remain. 

Despite the steady rain the bonfire continued to burn for hours so I sat in my bedroom watching it, just in case [I'm not sure just in case of what though].

The weather forecast is cold and wet for the next 24 hours, if not I'll be burning wood again! We could do with a decent bit of  heavy rain otherwise the laurels won't get planted til Autumn.  But by 7.30 the rain had stopped.

Kerry's 41 today, I'm gobsmacked, where did the time go?

Three out of two today!

The wind continued so high on Monday that I couldn't have a bonfire and the weather had definitely taken a turn for the colder so, after getting dressed under the duvet, I took myself off to the laundrette just to warm up because the cold is playing havoc with my arthritis.

Joy of joys - the builder turned up late in the morning so that he could do some measurements and he assures me that work in earnest will start tomorrow at around 8.30.  I explained that I don't get up until 10 because I would die of hypothermia.

Then the gardener came in the afternoon to finish off the lawn.  Two out of two.  Yay!!

A beautiful sunny day but I did very little work in the garden as, even with my sheepskin jacket, it was too cold to stay out there for long.  [By the way, not sure it was a real sheep that donated its skin, I didn't ask in Primark and the label's in Chinese].  It seemed a waste of a day but I pottered around the garden, tidying up a bit and moving a lot of wood into the house in the hope that we get the torrential downpour that is forecast.  We need more really heavy rain before I can plant the 30 metres of laurel hedging in the trench I have prepared.  All we've had recently is the sort of drizzle that seeps into your skin and bones but leaves the garden still gagging for water.

I decided to light a fire in the house, which is always fun because the house seems to enjoy each fire and melt a little into us.  I know this sounds fanciful but it takes a while for a stone house to warm, even though the fire seems big enough to roast a suckling pig on [I don't know what a suckling pig is exactly but I am sure I could roast it over our fire].  It was probably the wrong decision because the wind died down later but, what the hell, I'm not a meteorologist!

Well!!! 3 out of 2 today because in the afternoon a [relatively young and gorgeous] Frenchman arrived driving a large vehicle with a skip on the back.  The only drawback was that the skip was full of rubble.  He insisted that Darren had ordered a skip full of rubble, I said that Darren had ordered a skip FOR rubble but a] I am not male and b] I couldn't get hold of Darren on any of the 3 numbers I have for him so I was on sandy soil when I insisted that I would not accept it.  Eventually he left and I sat in front of the fire being a wise woman on my own [accompanied by a bottle of the finest local wine of course].

Chris had a worse day, in Angola, where the Delegation was flooded, particularly the IT room.

The forecast was for below zero temperatures overnight.  For once it was right!

One out of two ...

Saturday I was expecting the builder and the gardener.  Well, one of them turned up and it wasn't the builder!  Well, to be fair he did say Saturday or Monday.

The gardener is a small, ancient, weathered man with only 3 teeth.  He speaks with such a strong accent that he is almost incomprehensible but he lives next door to an English woman and can say YES and OK so thinks that he's multilingual!  He couldn't understand me very well either but we got by with a lot of head nodding and smiling.  He did a good job of the lawn and the smell of newly-cut grass did its usual trick of lifting the spirits, temporarily at least.

Sunday it is forbidden to light bonfires, what a relief!  I went for a wander around the garden centre and then tried to prepare the trench for the laurel hedge [30 metres] but we need a decent downpour instead of all this insipid constant drizzle.

I was feeling pretty tired, guess I'm not used to all this exercise, so I took the afternoon off.  Listened to Radio 4 and read my kindle while the wind howled around the caravan.  I must say it was a particularly forceful and bitterly cold wind.  I felt quite protected although the caravan was definitely making lots of creaky noises.

I was only disturbed when Mme B battled against the wind from next door.  Wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown, scarf knotted around her neck [stylish even in moments of stress!] and without even her cigarette holder, she tottered to the caravan.  I was really worried that something serious was wrong because it was a horrendous day.  But it transpired she had fought her way through the strong, cold winds to ask me if I had a blue tent as one was rolling around her grounds.  Not guilty!  I sent her back off to the warmth and safety of her house before we both froze to death.

I always knew that the cold would be an issue but I didn't realise how difficult I would find the solitude.  Most of the time I am actually quite happy with my own company but it would be nice to sit and have a wind-down drink and a chat in the evenings.  Chris did Skype but he was keen to get back to the football and I was in the middle of trying to assemble a brushcutter.

By mistake I put the fire and the kettle on at the same time and the electricity went off so I had to wrap up and make my miserable way through the biting wind, unlock the house, run back for the torch and try and remember everything Chris had told me about the fuses.  Luckily it was just the trip switch and I ran happily back to the warm caravan, ready to crawl into bed early and hope that Monday would be a more productive day.

The wind howled around the caravan all night long, it was really creepy! And really really cold. And, if anyone's interested, my nails are totally buggered!

Friday the 13th

Mme B, my  neighbour told me that it was 3 degrees overnight.  I knew it was cold because my face  was so cold it woke me up and I had to hide under the duvet til 10 o'clock when it was warm enough to get up!  Mme B is the first person I have had a real person conversation with for a couple of days but it wasn't a long conversation as she was off to her gym class, not bad for 82.

I went to buy some garden tools and didn't swap much more than the usual pleasantries so I decided to go out for lunch in the hope that I'd have a chat with someone.  Unless you count a superscillious waiter questioning my decision not to have wine with lunch, then the expedition wasn't much of a success.  Despite all weather forecasts, it was sunny when I got home so I did some more branch-burning until it got too cold. I remind myself that I am in a foreign country, living in a caravan and freezing cold for much of the time because I am doing this for my grandchildren, so that they have somewhere lovely to come and stay.  I am not sure I believe myself.

Read the 14 day weather forecast, which is more rain and colder.  Finished the day with a Skype fight with Chris.

Glad to get to bed

Home Alone

I'm trying hard to settle into life alone here in the middle of nowhere.  Doing a lot of sorting out, cleaning and I even tackled the laundrette run again.  When I left my washing, it was deserted, but by the time I returned from a visit to the station to find out about a Seniors Railcard [too expensive and demeaning, I'm really not ready for it yet], the laundrette was full of people I did not wish to share a bank holiday afternoon with, nor did I wish them to watch my smalls rotate in the dryer.  Why are laundrettes always so depressing??  Anyway, I lugged the laundry home and set it up in the middle of the lounge so I now have to skirt around it if I want to go anywhere or do anything.

Although the weather was OK I didn't dare light a bonfire as apparently it is a sin worse than most to light up on a Sunday or jour férié.   It was nearly 9 o'clock before the sun went down, wow!

I found it hard to settle down in the caravan and kept making excuses not to go to bed [one more cup of tea etc] but eventually I had to give in!

Life has settled down to a routine of getting up late so that it's warmer, then housework, shopping, administration at the Mairie, gardening, visiting our newly-widowed neighbour to get smoked into incoherence, bonfire-making on the rare occasions it's not raining and firelighting in the lounge when it is.  Food is as fast as it can get, at the moment I can't be bothered to cook for myself.  I have put all my shoes in the car, it's a much better idea as I have to wear wellingtons to get to the car, or even to get to the house,as I gloop through the mud.

The neighbour is very kind and thoughtful but I find it difficult to understand what she's saying as she talks fast and moves her dentures around her mouth at the same time. She's not a woman who takes kindly to criticism or disagreement so I generally nod and agree and that seems to be OK all round.

I haven't gone back to the French dancing class as I have lost a bit of my spark at the moment. But I sometimes light a big fire in the house and have a dance there.

I have been listening a lot to Radio Nostalgie in the car. But I don't think I can take it any longer.  They appear to have a portfolio of approximately 50 records which they play in whatever order they please.  One is by Gilbert O'Sullivan!  Today, with no hint of irony, he played 'Raindrops keep falling on my Head' and I almost crashed the car in fury!

The builder has promised that he will be starting on Saturday.......................we'll see!

My intention to stay off alcohol for a while has hit a very sticky bit!  Thank God for the internet, I can communicate with people, listen to Radio 4 and get a penis enlargement!!!!

The sad thing about my life..........

is that I am always saying goodbye to people I love.

Playing Adele in the car on the way back from the airport might not have been a wise move.

Still only 41 days til I see my little Beth and 54 til I see Chris, and maybe I'll see Kate in the meantime too.


**** Got the dates wrong!! It was 46 til I see Chris and 34 til Beth.  Chris told me, he must be counting too.

Chris's last weekend

Saturday it continued to rain and we valiantly tried to plant the laurels but gave up around lunchtime when Simon came to finally remove the radiators and boiler.  He's pleased and we're pleased to get rid so definitely a win-win situation, especially as money changed hands and also as the demolition is supposed to start on Monday.

We had just retreated to the caravan absolutely soaking and really cold when the neighbour's daughter turned up with her daughter and her exchange student from England.  They stayed until I started violently shivering and then they gave me a few odd looks and headed home for lunch.  I had a shower to try and get warm.  I spent some time trying to convince myself that gardening in the freezing rain is good for the skin and will give me a lovely glow. So far, the mirror seems to indicate otherwise.

Rain prevented much more work, although Chris had a go at making the raised beds because he'd like to get them finished before he leaves on Monday and we pottered around the house trying to convince ourselves that progress is being made.

The man of the house having a coffee break before heading back out to the cold and damp

The sun came out around 5pm but by then we didn't care, Chris was totally sodden and mudsplattered and fed up but still had chores to finish before he goes and he also had to give Simon a hand to move the enormously heavy boiler and radiators.  Water had naturally leaked everywhere so the ground floor was about 2 inches deep everywhere.  I just returned to the caravan!

We went out for dinner and returned to find Simon and Frederic still trying to load the last of the stuff.  It was after 9.30, cold and dark.   I began to wonder if perhaps money should have changed hands in the other direction before they took everything away!

Sunday dawned just as grey as miserable and we finished planting the laurels and then constructed the raised beds.

Raised beds starting to take shape. We are on our way to an organic garden!

The sun came out for less than 5 minutes!

As we were so wet and cold and fed up again, we decided to go to a hotel in Bordeaux and spend hours in the bathroom.  I packed an entire carrier bag of toiletries because I may not see a bath for some time in the future.

When we arrived the hotel was pretty average so we decided to go out for a few drinks.  However something weird had happened to France between midday and 4pm.  It had shut down.  The
shoulder-shrugging, garlic-loving. Gaullois-smoking country was about as exciting and accessible as the Marie Celeste.  At midday on Easter Sunday, it dies, with one remarkable exception. The boulangeries/pattisseries were all open and doing good business.  Yes, you could buy a cake, pastry, bread and chocolate in almost any shape known to man but getting a drink and meal was completely out of the question.  Well, almost...........we ended up eating at McDonalds, which served as a reminder of just how awful food can be, and we drove to the airport to drink overpriced beers.

However the anticipated bath more than lived up to expectations and it was wonderful to feel clean again.

Something really nice happened on Wednesday but Friday not so good

The weather continues to be cold so on Wednesday we gave in and bought an oil-filled radiator for the bedroom. I've just got used to getting dressed under the duvets.  The radiator in itself was nice enough but I also received a letter from a cousin of mine, Irish but lives in London, in which she enclosed some photos of some of my Irish relatives, cousins, aunts, grandparents.  It was a lovely surprise - the biggest one being that I am a dead ringer for my Auntie Eileen, except she had thicker hair.  I really liked her, she was generous and very, very funny.  Of course, she was beautiful too.

Later on Wednesday we met with the architect who has all sorts of good ideas and I can see the price climbing by the minute.  He has convinced us that the contractor should demolish 4 rooms instead of 2 when [if] he arrives on Monday as it will be more cost efficient.  The other rooms would have to be demolished later anyway to make way for the extension.  We'll wait and get an estimate and then decide.  The man with the mini digger couldn't come as arranged as he had lost the keys to his trailer so we've booked him in for Friday.  The laundrette was the usual horrible experience, once more I feel as if I've slipped back 35 years and it's not nice.  Had a bonfire.

Thursday was spent with Henriette and Jackie, the parents of the lad that Chris did his school exchange with 40 years ago.  We have kept in touch regularly with them and visit whenever we are in France.  We had the usual 17 course meal accompanied by 5 wines.  We tried to do some work when we got home but it was difficult....too tired by the midday excesses!  We had yet another bonfire until it got rained off.  Funny, we haven't even scratched the surface of all the cuttings we have to get rid of, and then we have to demolish and burn the sechoir, which may well keel over before we get round to it.  We spent the evening on paperwork: Chris on a form for Permission de Demolir which takes 3 months to process [remember the demolition is due to happen on  Monday] and me on trying to get a cheap flight back to the UK in May for some sanity time. Problems with that, oh well, there's a surprise.  We also read a book on the French taxation system, just how exciting can life get?  This DEFINITELY is a rhetorical question. 

Well it got exciting on Friday, Good Friday it definitely wasn't.  I woke, put on the heater and the kettle and - whoops - all the electricity went off, so no warmth and no internet.  I had no choice but to get up and go to the shopping centre to access the email from the contractor that is doing the work next week [we hope].  On the way I stopped at the ATM but our Belgian bank card wouldn't let me have any money so I had to use the English card and I am so mean that I HATE having to change money that way and pay extortionate charges.

But Ian turned up with his digger and some work did actually get done for once. Chris went shopping for some fuses and returned half an hour later to get some money to pay for them.  Slow progress!!  The sound of the digger in the garden reassured me that some small progress was being made while I prepared the supper on the [thankfully, gas] cooker.  Chris eventually returned with fuses which solved the first problem.  Accessing the internet showed me that we had just paid a credit card bill which had taken us overdrawn so at least I knew why I couldn't get money out.  Second mystery solved!  Ian dug a big hole and buried a lot of crap. Yay!!  He also went to the dechetterie and got loads of free compost and dug some trenches in the right place.  I think Ian is a God among men in French artisan terms, he turns up when he says he will and does the job, charges a reasonable amount and then buggers off.   Same can't be said for the electrician who turned up to remove the electrics from the rooms to be demolished.  He didn't do that but he did move the earth thingy, which is apparently important.  So only half a result there and he left everything where he dropped it, charged 50 euro for less than an hour's work. 

We bought 18 trees.   Had a bonfire.  Today was very expensive.

The sun gave way to thunderstorms and rain so heavy we couldn't hear each other speak in the caravan.  I guess it watered the new trees which are waiting patiently to be planted. 

But compared to a week ago, we have a working toilet, a new radiator [that cannot be used in conjunction with the other radiator], 18 new trees [which have yet to be planted] and an intimate knowledge of bonfire law in France.  This is progress of a sort.