Spring has sprung

Well here I am at the end of my 1^st French winter. How have I found it ? Marvellous, bloody marvellous, and confusing too, as , for some reason it appears to me that I arrived what seems like yesterday…..so why am I heading off so soon?.

It’s only when I look around and see, the freezer we bought to stock up in, the fence “Stitch proofing” the garden, the new kitchen unit to take the extra vittles, and the “touched up” appearance of the ruined faux chimney, that I realize I have been here over two months at all. To say it has flown by would be an understatement.  So much so, that it almost feels “unreal” Très bizarre as the locals like to say.

So what were the highlights of my last couple of weeks ?

Coming in as a firm favourite is the annual “flight of the Cranes” that tells folk in the Poitou Charante that spring is indeed on the way. These huge, noisy flocks pass through this area twice a year, flying south in the autumn and north to their breeding grounds at Springtime. They chose four consecutive days at approximately the same time each day, to cross our back garden, forming huge “V”’s of literally hundreds of birds,over periods of up to an hour and a half. A true spectacle of nature.  I looked up on their grus grus(French for crane) site and on the 19^th & 20^th February between 15,000 and 20,000 flew through my region EACH day on their way to Hesse in Germany. No picture can ever capture that moment,well not unless you are Sir David Attenborough, but here are a couple of shots taken with a pathetically poor camera.

Next, thanks to the gradual shutting down of hunting my rambles with the dogs can cover new ground, without risk of being “mistaken” for game !! Something I did not know is how well organised and exact hunting IS here. Hunting is a community event and to break a rule is social suicide. There are firm restrictions as to what you can shoot, and when. The deer, bless their little Bambi hearts, aren’t safe until the 28^th February but pigeons  pheasants and partridges have been popping their heads up without risk of having them shot off, since the end of January. Farmers either agree to "La Chasse" over their lands, or they have Chasse Garde signs up…NO hunting. As I went to Montignac for agility the other day, I was surprised to see in a Chasse Garde field, two gorgeous sleek,shiny Chasse dogs, both Hamilton Stovares, which are highly popular as pack dogs locally. The Chasse meets about two miles down the road in the woods, these had obviously gone off on their own, I just had visions of the local huntsman having to round up the strays in the evening. I hope they were happily reunited with their packmates, who hopefully didn't, “find” anything that day either.

Anyway it was on one of these “new” walks I came upon another huge surprise. I mean, imagine you are just following your nose,on what seems like a nice jaunt, round the edge of a mature wood and out across the unfenced fields of rural France, and suddenly you see in the distance rocks…..big rocks, on an otherwise flat horizon. Colour me curious but off I trundled to, a mini version of Stonehenge, not a worshipping stone ring but a burial site. Two Dolmen. But no fencing, no roads, no anything, just a plaque and a polite notice to say they were religious sites and could you please not clamber about on them.    Neolithic 5000-4000 BC !! not the sort of thing you expect to stumble on,but I expect many more of these discoveries in years to come.

One of my real regrets is to be abandoning my birds. I will be begging my sister in law to be coming in to feed them for me in the coming weeks. Their antics have been more entertaining than TV, and I have got to know many of them individually by sight, and learnt their characters, despite many of them being technically identical. All the usual suspects. Great tits, blue tits, sparrows and robins, that have of late, begun to remind me a lot of the birds in “Rhubarb and Custard”, mainly as they have gained enough weight to look like tennis balls. They line up in the mornings, waiting for a new supply of sunflower seeds, and get quite stroppy if I feed the woofs first. This morning there was a light dusting of snow, and I only ventured out at 7.30 am…. I half expected to be pelted with bird poop. They were not amused, and had formed like leaves in the walnut tree branches, tweeting their avian fury at me for keeping them waiting. Also it’s taken 10 weeks since the 1^st sighting of our Hawfinch pair to get them to actually FEED, rather than just to stop off for a drink in the bird bath, and what are we doing ?? Buggering off.  Mrs Hawfinch is on her umpteenth visit as I write this,her husband,who comes over as a Bob Hoskins Cockney wide boy, is huge and really should not be messed with, as the other birds have found out, and the Woodpecker(Greater Spotted) has just left our peanut feeder. What now ?? Back to the bloody seagulls I guess.

Then there are the dogs, Phee high on life, yet also clinging onto it, Kif who lives for the countryside and his walks, the pace and volume of life is kinder to him here it seems, and The Bug, well he has a new love in his life…..whose name is Pimpernel. Pimpernel is Stitch’s pet mouse, who lives outside our back door in the flower border. He is called Pimpernel as “he seeks him here,he seeks him there,that Stitchy seeks him everywhere, is he in heaven ?,is he in hell?,that damned elusive Pimpernel”  No Bug,he’s under the calor gas cylinder dude !!!!!!

And don't even get me started on "the spoiler" Richard.....regard if you will his "lunch-plate,......and he says they are MY dogs !!!! Those mini sarnies are lined up for you know who.

Luka - Stitch's French Bulldog Buddy

I guess in the last few weeks, I too, have just become a creature of habit , and the habits I have formed, and have got myself involved with, suit me. I will miss my new friends at Vallee du Salles, they tolerate my poor French, and my loco terrier, I will miss shopping at odd times, and suiting myself when I do almost anything you care to mention. I will even miss the looks of exasperation, as my poor command of verbs and tenses make something that sounded in my head like it made sense, perplex the heck out of my French neighbours. I will miss the sheer quirkiness of french life, sights sounds and tastes... yes I WILL miss it all .  

Odd items in Phamacy windows !!

Eclairs as they should be - filled to the MAX

I am however ALSO looking forward to catching up with our children, and seeing old friends and new puppies(especially THAT),back in England. I’m beyond excited to see Voodoo’s progress and dear long suffering Hex’s ginger head in my hands again. 

Is life back in the fast lane really for me these days ?? Well that remains to be seen. See you all soon x 

 

Shit happens (even in France)

One of the things that I have had said to me repeatedly since we bought the cottage in France, (although interestingly enough NOT by my children)and more so since we have decided to try moving here permanently is, : You have to be careful with your judgement….,"it’s not like living there is it ?? it’s a holiday !!!”  Well take it from me the last two visits have proved to me beyond doubt that the honeymoon is over, and “living here” is exactly what we are doing. How do I know this ? because shit happens, and it’s no less soul destroying despite the climate,the wildlife,the relaxation and the hopes and dreams of a happy retirement.

Does leading a dream life stop your pain, or allow you to reduce your medication for it?,…no, do new challenges and experiences fall at your feet and cause you no stress…,no, do the endless walks in spectacular countryside spare you from the tears you cry, knowing the dogs you swore you would share it with, never made that final trip, or does discovering you love gardening, and want to tell that to the “green fingered” parent you lost long before this experience in France started, who YOU called bonkers for spending hours and hours on her hands and knees weeding, make you happy, …No…..because life isn’t a holiday, and no matter where you lay your hat, trouble and strife will eventually follow. But that’s life isn’t it,imperfect and unpredictable, but you have to make the most of it. And making “the most of it” will be my focus from now on whatever is thrown my way.

For example:

Take my beautiful woodburner, installed at fair expense and complimented by a faux chimney that my other half and I had a gas laugh riot “creating” behind it. What happens this visit ??? Well I will give you the before and after photo so you can see for yourself.  Thick tar gunk running down our walls after the first full week of usage. Was it the chimney ??? Replaced/rejigged…No…..rainwater? no, condensation ??maybe….would an airbrick fix it….no… would adding Vermiculite do the trick ??…. Finally Yes after a month of staining my masterpiece beyond belief !!! It’s  bleached now and doesn't look that bad. But for me it’s ruined…. And always will be.

A near miss: Finding out that due to a cock up with a direct debit I have been driving an uninsured car since December and was blissfully(although you can’t use that expression in this case) unaware of doing so, on the slippery single track roads I have been sharing with the lorries modifying the TGV(railway)locally,and the slightly loopy impatient French motorists who aren't used to sharing their space with other motorists, when two cars on the same road at the same time represents total gridlock !!!

Wildlife: Watching during the course of a day(My birthday,) a goldfinch who had become so tame and who fed daily on our kitchen window sill, puff out his or her feathers and spend a last day not leaving our garden,only to finally perch on our window sill for once last moment at dusk before flying off, to never reappear. Illness,old age,victim of a close encounter with cat or bird of prey ?. I will never know but it broke my heart.

Agility: A lovely bunch of people, welcoming and jovial. Do they use modern methods? No. Are their relationships with their dogs a partnership or a dictatorship ?? Well I think you know the answer. They aren't mean to their dogs but they don’t lure,shape and reward exactly like we do.There is an element of positive reinforcement in that they will let them work to a toy, or throw a toy,but on the whole although not overtly harsh,they think the dogs should do X,Y or Z because they say so, and they are pretty immovable on that subject. In the long term will I be able to turn up week after week and watch them struggle(which they think they aren't), persuading a dog to jump a jump by insisting that it does so, rather than dropping the pole to the floor and praise and rewarding it’s efforts, before progressing gradually ?? well that remains to be seen, save to say I am already looking at properties with larger terrain to offer people the opportunity to train on a 1-2-1 basis should they wish to so. There is no better incentive to achieve better fluency than to have a goal such as taking the exam to train French agility (You have to have a  French certificate to have permission to train at ALL) to improve their relationships with their dogs.

So to summarize am I under any illusion that this is all “very real” ??  Yet strangely does it dampen my enthuasism.?  My other half is always going on about this challenge to him being, “Lifes last big adventure”  and in itself are adventures always smooth,trouble free, and without risk? Of course not.  Being outside your comfort zone after the best part of thirty years of happy family life is scary, especially when in your opinion you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.  A very wise woman(My Mum) once told me “life is about change” and I never really understood that one as a child !! Does a change mean you were unhappy or discontent with your life as it was.? In my case certainly not, I love my life just as it is. I am proud of my children ?, immeasurably.  I totally applaud the changes they have made to their lives in way of career and love their choices of personal relationships. But I guess I now am facing the fact that their adventures are now “theirs” and only shared with me secondhand whether or not I was 10 minutes down the road.

So here I am…..having an adventure of my own. Will it all be endless, sunshine, lollipops and rainbows ? Will there be days when I want to be “beamed up Scotty” and for it to be back as it all was ?  Hell yes. But then I have those days in UK. We all do.

Like I said “That’s life”   and I am not sticking my head in the sand folks. Merde happens

P.S. Normal service to be resumed on the next post, I promise xx I just felt it had to be said.

  

SO………………………….who stole my winter ???

We bought Le Tardis in 2004 and have holidayed “En France” several times a year to date, infact two of my collies, Tod and Tippy, used to consider themselves Condor Ferrys’ foremast frequent flyers, and used to bark their heads off when they reached French soil, somewhat to the bemusement of the passengers,(foot and car), lined up waiting to go on the ferry…..we got a few funny looks that’s for sure.

But in this whole time our breaks were concentrated in the summer months (yes I did miss a show or two) Holiday No:1 each year) Out to France but back in time for Kernow K9…..Holiday No: 2) Out but back in time for Caerphilly’s dragons and 3)Out but back for Dashing Dogs…..you get the picture. Hope my husband doesn’t read this….I ‘m almost certain he was unaware at the time …..oops !!

Now in all these years we have never ventured during the winter, and as we now have “plans” and a woodburner, (to add to the electric central heating we already had) it seemed an excellent opportunity to immerse ourselves in the culture and spend the Winter. This was all perfectly well planned,…..or so I thought.  

This area,the Poitou Charante, experiences short cold winters….my sister in law was in her shirt sleeves gardening in the first week of December,…we ourselves got a tan in October !. The winter is expected to arrive sometime during December, and peaters out in February,….leaving spring to blossom early, mild and bright. However what USUALLY happens in between, is cold, crisp weather, and SNOW…..lots of SNOW…..snow that last days….weeks….sometimes a month.  Cold weather and winter japes….. and what do I get ?????

RAIN……lots of rain…..”cancelled agility”rain……and who gets my snow ???? You do. Nuff said.   

On a happier note,just kidding, I loved watching all the happy shiny snowmen you built, lol,  how is my winter break going ?????

Well it’s fabulous, truly fabulous.  I am fast becoming an avid Twitcher having come from an area that boasts a zero variety of birds, save seagulls, more seagulls and the starlings whose corpses I find on my garage roof having been killed by, you guessed it, seagulls,and it is of constant amazement and wonder the super birds you get to see for the first time. Now I know a lot of you are fortunate to live in areas where you too see some beauties ,but I for one, as aforementioned, am not. So colour me amazed to see, Hawfinches ,Bramblings, Spotted Woodpeckers and Wrens that have suddenly started arriving within yards(in France but still not metric)of my French windows accompanying all the usual suspects, chaffinches, goldfinches, greenfinches, house and tree sparrows, tits(no giggling)blue, great and pied. Not to mention the multitude of different hawks and field birds I see out and about, when I am going too fast and don’t have an “I spy”book of Birds … (whose old enough to remember THOSE) to identify them with.

I used to be horrendously sad at all the road kill birds I saw on the verge ,until I discovered that  500 or more chaffinches can rise from a field, and dice with death, as you drive past ,and missing them ALL is tantamount to veering off-road, or performing an emergency stop on muddy single track lanes. It’s a good job the roads are so quiet, as I have done both,……several times, and after six weeks still thankfully have a zero headcount to my name.Phew.

And are the dogs happy ???  Well, I will let you judge for yourselves.  

Phee is forever defying Veterinary expectation of her somewhat limited projected lifespan. Would she actually make TWO, due to her poor heart ??? Well she is now NINE, and lives life to the full. To say she is un-affected  would be untrue, she has had a couple of blips since she got here, but then she has those in England. I contacted my Vet after a particularly worrying episode she had the other day, but his advice was, you know the score, just let her be a dog.  We can’t give her an anaesthetic, (too risky) and the first bout of anything she catches won’t be easy for her to cope with, but she’s come this far with her positive swing on life, just let her carry on. As for Mr “just call me autistic” Kif, he still doesn’t move a muscle from the safety of his Castle of Comfort Bed until it’s time to go out, and then as you can see he is more than up for a good old run and herd. Jekyll /Hyde ?, undoubtedly, but again at seven he’s more than set in his ways, however weird they might be. What’s it like to live with a dog that never shows you that he loves you, in ANY form ?? Ask me !!! I had hoped out here he might have lightened up !  Gee, I love him to bits, but to have him even look in my direction willingly, without having to throw in a calming signal, would be a plus. No cuddles, no kisses, and absolutely no eye contact, he’s weird …..W-E-I-R-D.  Yet if any of you walked through the door, he would bend himself in two to suck up to you, wiggle, wag his tail, smile. I don’t know if that hurts more, save the fact, that I know he’s throwing the behaviour as defence. Was he born that way, and that’s why he was in rescue, or did someone make him act this way, and he just can’t leave it behind? Whichever, at least the life I can offer him out in the fields seem to whisk his troubles away, ”anyone say WALK Mum ??”

As for “The Bug” well he’s being, dare I say, relatively reliable on walks,(touchwood… and I did) it was always a grey area as to how much I would trust him. He may be all collie when he works, but he is definitely all terrier out on his walks. Until recently, he has had a less than 100% recall, and anyone who read my piece on  Agilitynet’s FB page, in response to a post regarding recalls, will know, it’s not like I haven’t TRIED. He is nearly four and I still can’t trust him completely. Little bugger. But I have built up to letting him off in open areas, and put him back on a 26’ flexi (giant breed one)only when in woodland, which is his usual downfall .Luckily I have a vast amount of choice walks available to me, so I am getting braver by the day. I did have him off lead when he flushed out five Partridges the other day, and I didn’t lose him to the chase, so I am pleased there is progress being made. 

One of the biggest worries for me is the incredible number of gunmen out, both Kif and I wear Hi-Viz this time of year. 

You couldn’t just plug in a ipod and ramble around, you really have to concentrate on signs all about you, but the main times to avoid are weekends(organised hunts) and early mornings and evenings. I am very glad Phee is keen on barking, she is always announcing our arrival, I am sure they curse me when I am about, as every bit of wildlife within a mile radius vamooses, what with Stitch’s input as well !. 

Well that’s it, a little bit of an update. Next I will be “experiencing” a French haircut, the appointment made in French, a visit to a dentist, ditto, and will be submitting my Montignac Club de Canin application. I’ve been twice weekly for nearly a month and they haven’t taken any money off me yet. They always say French red tape is baffling, but I have to say they appear very laid back about money!!!   So lots hopefully to look forward to, in the meantime ………………

………….can I have my SNOW back !!!!

Vive la différence

Balançoire, Palissade, Passerelle, Pneu ,Slalom, Saut en Longueur ….these are all words in my new agility vocabulary…..luckily, tunnel  rigide, tunnel  souple, and table sort of speak for themselves….phew.

So how did I find French agility ?? Well surprisingly WET if I’m honest. The Clubs grounds are on the banks of the river Charante which although hasn't had to cope with much in the way of local precipitation,HAS received the bulk of the water descending from the flooded North of France which has in itself enjoyed(if that’s the word)the same sort of weather as England. The result ?? Well the need for football studs for starters !.

My two trips so far, once my “paperwork” was in order and we could “play”, have plastered me in mud and left my Nikes reminiscent of the 2012 Tuffley weekend. I have been told it’s not “usual” for this much of a quagmire (where have I heard that before?) in January and that usually it's snow we are grappling with, but I just answered that I’m more than used to it and "where do we start ?".

My fellow agility enthusiast’s are all French, no English spoken, thank God, as I have to find the incentive to expand my vocabulary somewhere. A real variety of dogs,only ONE Border Collie (so far) but a Bull Terrier (!!) 2 Belgium Shepherds, a Rough Collie, a Setter Cross, a Norfolk Terrier, a Chihuahua, a French Bulldog, 2 Jack Russell’s, a Retriever………..etc ,etc,  in other words a real mixed bag. They all seems to have English names though, like Dora, Elliot,(that’s right Sarah Campbell) Magic, and Gadget….go figure, yet they struggle with a name like “Stitch”. Which maybe should be “Point”(Stitch in French)

It’s a good job everybody’s dogs mingled well as of course being in France everyone performs “La Bise”,(the French gesture of kissing each other on the cheek), before the lesson started. Imagine THAT at every class in England with a bunch of worky collies. I was introduced and “kissed” the entire group, including the instructor Michel,which left Stitch looking quite confused….I must remember to tether him up upon arrival next time. I think he was beginning to wonder whether I wanted HIM to pucker up too, so he was glad when the agility started.

The agility itself, same spec equipment, weaves ,tunnels etc, although the tyre was the dreaded old “slung” type on chains,although well padded,and of course,the European obligatory table,they laughed like a drain when Stitch went at it like a steeple-chaser on his first run and refused to “throttle off”  and therefore hit the brakes just as he fell off the back ledge. Oops. We don’t use them ourselves often enough maybe !. He gauged it better the second time….once bitten and all that. One thing that took me by surprise was their obsession with “UPS” . Imagine my horror when unleashing the beast on his very first run when he got criticized on the see-saw for only having a toe on it !!  I could see the instructor doing a charade of “only just” and it caught me so much by surprise that I thought he was challenging my 2o2o…sort of difficult when the dog is still on the bloody thing in the classic “Look at me Mum” pose. It was only then that I realized he meant the “up” which caused me to reflect after the run, has Stitch ever got marked on an up ?? Answer, no never. No one seems to sprint past their dogs on contacts as they are fannying about checking their stride pattern before they commit. They seemed quite surprised that I really appeared not to give a Merde but he didn't miss any, so I presume they will get used to my lack of concern.  

Handling systems, hmmm they appear to have got caught up somewhere in the 90’s, plus they have an unreal reluctance to rear cross, and the much publicised “European”Ketschker  was nowhere to be seen (So I threw in two just to stir things up) ! Certainly at my club they don’t seem to “drive” hard but seem happy to “accompany” their dogs around a course. They get the job done, and the dogs are keen, motivated, and competent. The handlers too are kind, considerate, fair, and use positive reinforcement, but there is a real lack of frenzied excitement generated, they prefer instead to keep the dogs calm and low-key. Seeing Stitch running around like a headless chicken at full chat screaming at the top of his voice must have been a real shocker. He did however achieve what I like to call the “grin” factor, as he hit the weaves at an impossible angle 15 feet ahead of me directly infront of the assembled masses and I heard an audible gasp as I picked him up on the end having run in diagonally at him.  He didn’t let me down he is,..... after all, .....a superstar.

So why the gap in technique and attitude ? Especially as these folk have represented the Poitou Charante and the Instructor has run for France ??  Well I put it down to the size of agility in our area. The Poitou Charante has 4 CNEAC(the KC equivalent) registered clubs, and is an area larger than WALES!!!!!. As I understand it to compete you cannot do so as an individual, but do so for your club and Region. Also not just anyone can train you, they have to hold a very specific certificate to do so. Added to this the need to travel vast distances to attend shows in other regions and the non-existent grading system, making every class a 1-7, isn't IMHO particularly conducive to the growth of the sport. The club I now belong to runs a CNEAC show each year and is applauded for people coming from all around France making numbers totaling nearly 100 competitors !!!!!!!!!  Could you imagine that at any Kennel Club show. LOL

But this isn’t me having a downer on French agility…FAR FAR far from it. Having started agility myself over 20 years ago I find the social side of it very refreshing as it is very similar to how it was back then. Lots of folk having a lot of fun with their dogs not taking it too seriously and welcoming foreigners with ballistic terriers into their midst even though the only language they speak fluently is, agility itself.

Who has the time for this retirement lark?

One of the things that seems to have obsessed people when telling them about our proposed life in France is : what were are going to “do”. Well take it from me folks, this relaxed lifestyle is sort of,…. time consuming…. !!.

Take a “normal” day. Now the nice French folk have managed to get their clocks one hour infront of ours in Blighty so, technically, your eight o’clock is actually our nine. Happy as I am to be an early riser, there isn’t much point if it’s still pitch black at 8am local time, so a cozy little cup of tea in bed seems like a much more sensible idea.

Stitch too has gone from being an early morning nightmare, (whine, scratch, moan) to the sort of dog you have to prise out his doughnut bed to have a wee, so popping down, putting the kettle on, and returning to my dosing (that’s not DOZY) hubby has now finally become an option.Hooray. Safe to say after re-warming my tootsies and swallowing my 1^st batch of “meds”, clambering back out of bed seems pointless until 1) they have kicked in and 2) there is actual daylight to be seen.

Hello NINE a.m.!  ….. Downstairs for muesli and a cup of strong coffee to ready myself for action. What action you ask ?…..well decide if you need to go grocery shopping or need something more specific for the houses’ revamp from holiday house to permanent residence ?. Well the shops shut for lunch at 12 (until 2pm) so you better make your minds up fast coz there is nothing more frustrating than trying to fit a weekly shop into a 30 minute “window”. It fast beings to resemble “Supermarket Sweep”

You have plenty of time until 12.00am I hear you say, well not really, as there is also under consideration the “W” word ie: are canine breakfasts required immediately upon our morning decent and W relegated to an afternoon activity or, are they “good to go” before you go out?. Try fitting a W in before the shopping and beating the lunchtime deadline.??? Nope, afternoon it is.

So now your morning has degenerated into dashing around before the shops shut, your afternoon understandably pandering to your dog’s needs ……before you know it, it’s clean out your wood burner, get in some logs, do your Snow White bit to the increasingly grubby floor tiles (as a result of the W) flick around a duster,peel some veg and bingo it’s getting dark.

I announced this morning (in bed with a cup of tea) at 9.38 a.m. OUR time that on Tuesday we have been here a month,we then spent a good ten minutes trying to remember what we had ACTUALLY done during that time. Needless to say the “things needing doing” list had barely been started, and we’re not consoling ourselves that we still have another umpteen weeks. We seem to have been flat out for the last four.!!! Priceless.

Anyway,one of the things that prompted this blog was my blog or lack of it. So I will promise you that I will do my piece on French agility in the next couple of days. I have attended once,last Wednesday,and am due another visit tomorrow (Saturday) so no excuses, I will find the time…….just probably when it’s dark !!.

Post script: My last two blogs had no pictures...that sucks, so here are a couple to keep you going and to assure you it does cloud over here sometimes....even rains........   

Winter sunset 

Double rainbow 

Phee barking at puddles(before splashing in them big time) 

It's beginning to look a lot like Noel !

Well I started this blog pre-Noel and obviously didn't finish it before the big day, but that was because I had a lot of pre-conceptions about Xmas in France and I just wanted to see how the whole event “held up” under close scrutiny. I had been told, and I quote, “they don’t really bother” but I knew they ate their Christmas dinner Christmas Eve and opened their presents afterwards at midnight, that they don’t have a Boxing Day and only had one day off work (the 25^th itself) but I was eager to see how it panned out.

My findings: Well they DO bother but prefer to go for the old fashioned, decorations up for the week, leading to the big day approach. No light strewn grottos or floodlight house frontages, modest lights (white) and occasional wreaths. The shopping centre's go more to town but, as a whole, it’s less like the United States’ festive jamboree and more like the Christmases I remember back in the late sixties, low key and low budget. Therefore, in my humble opinion as chairperson of the WTF society of naysayers it suited me down to the ground.!!

I know a lot of people actively enjoy Christmas running from the 1^st November until 12^th night but save to say I am not one of them and Christmas morning found me out in the fields and woods behind my cottage playing “dodge the partridges” with my motley K9 crew of Phee, Kif (and this visit) Stitch, and having one of THE best Christmas mornings a washed up old agility crone like me could ever have.  Don’t get me wrong, I am BIG on Christmas, like it, love it, shriek with delight, cry like a baby, feel overwhelming joy, sentiment, nostalgia and love……….but can only manage it for about the same amount of time as the French it seems !  3 days MAX.

Glad I have Facebook, glad I have Skype, glad I have a husband that understands my need to keep in contact on both. It allowed me to enjoy the festive cheer with my (not so) near and dearest and be invited into their lives and homes. Did I miss my children ? (now adults) yes like crazy, but there always WAS going to be a first “none” children Noel( New Year and birthday), I just took a little longer getting round to it than most parents.

Thanks though to modern technology, half way round the world is no longer that far, and the South West of France is seriously closer. One of the oddest things to be missing was Olympia, as that was always part of Christmas to me. Groomed twice for Diane Graves in past years and had serious aspirations to get there myself but again modern technology allowed me to wish people luck, keep in touch with the goings on, AND to view the rounds themselves, thanks to the tireless efforts of those filming and posting. Thanks everybody xx  I will fix that next year of course, I will have installed Sky, Eurosport and with any luck will be grooming for my daughter, that’s if she’ll have me now I have deserted her !!

Anyway bonne fêtes, I am off to have yet another meal of the festive turkey I made my husband buy at an exorbitant price when it’s only me who really likes it. Oops !!

How the French “party”

Much is made of the divide between the English and the French. To be honest, my personal experience of the phenomenon reveals it’s the English that are to blame not the French. Personally I can’t understand why anyone would want to live somewhere if they didn’t want to embrace the local community and culture. To consider “living there” tantamount to accosting all the local English people and creating a ”Little England” mentality by surrounding yourself with no one else but your kinsman is in my opinion ludicrous  !!. Having droves of English friends that you are only drawn to because they speak your language is, I have to say fraught with problems. I mean would they be your choice of buddies at home? Probably not,after all if the average English populous were so bloody marvellous I for one wouldn’t have spent the last 20 years hiding from them in the happy shiny land that we call AGILITY…inhabited by like minded folk who DO give a shit about me and with whom I can carry on a halfway decent conversation without reaching for the nearest loaded gun.

So what is MY experience of the inhabitants? Well take the other day, Dominique our French friend (brother in law to Marie-Claude our original next door neighbour) was back from Bordeaux where he works these days. We had told him that we would be around for 7 weeks so we hoped he would come back into the area prior to our return to the UK so we could catch up. To clarify  in the last 8 years we have never encountered a French person who speaks fluent English, all our neighbours speak a little gleaned from school 40 years ago like my French, or none. So an ability to sport a smile, a dictionary, a good sense of humour and perform a passable Charade is a MUST. But remember this is a two way street, so do French people flock together and exclude the Brits ??? Do they heck. !!

Contact from Dominique was short and succinct. Meet me at the Intermarche Supermarket at St Amant de Boixe at 10 am on Sunday we're are having an Eclat. Fine, rendez-vous established…..Richard to me “What’s an Eclat? “ Me to Richard, after looking in a dictionary “It’s a bursting”….Richard to me “WTF” or similar.

In the meantime a close friend from England who we had always asked to pop over did just that. Sent text to Dominique explaining, reply, bring him along. So on Sunday we set off for the village of St Amant de Boixe, met with Dominique and disappeared down into Centre Ville to shop at the outdoor market and go to a Bar/Tabac for coffee. The market was a typical French affair, wine,cheese,fruit,veg,honey,meats all locally produced and sold in the usual haphazard, relaxed,sqeeze it, smell it, taste it, shopping experience by two shopkeepers and a fabulous looking merle collie boy who didn’t seem to care if I didn’t speak French either. Nobody formed a queue of any description, no-one tutted, pushed, barged, or stormed off despite the fact that the simple procuring of a half dozen items took about 30 minutes !!. Next to the bar/ tabac for an Espresso, a bet on the gee gees and an opportunity to take in the feel of France on a Sunday. Every single generation was accounted for. Dad’s out with their under fives giving mums a well deserved Sunday morning rest, couples, youth groups and pensioners. No raised voices, tears tantrums just the gentle hubbub of general conversation. We sat by the door….SO obviously English I felt like I wanted to hide yet everybody coming in and going out the door said hello. We were watched with curiosity but never disdain and when we rose to leave were wished a good day by all.  

  

With that we were then taken to a town house close by. Greeted by the lady of the house,who was, I later learnt a Granny and yet looked so young and chic I could have poked her eyes out. We were lead through to the back garden, a back garden that was full of French folk young and old who greeted and kissed us in true French tradition and we saw… wait for it……..A table……A HUGE table surrounded by many hands hard at work.

Rather than try and describe the next two hours …. I will lay it down in pictures…..save to say we were treated to the most unbelievable traditional experience, the centrepiece being 15 kilogrammes of Mussels cooked in a most “original” fashion.

3 nails are hammered into the table, then mussels are “placed” with acute precision, having been selected and their beards removed (and any discarded that weren't up to scratch) This selection process interesting enough performed by the elders in the assembled group. The mussels begin to form a circle.

 The process takes a long time, as the circle grows to over a metre, but thankfully there are “refreshments” provided….for those that aren't designated drivers like me.  

Once the circle is complete it is covered in pine needles....cones and all !!

 A portion of the circle is covered in fig leaves underneath the pine needles as this creates a different flavour

Much discussion,(and alcohol ) is needed to assure correct placement of the  needles

Then you set fire to it !!!

At full flame water is poured on the perimeter to stop the table going up !!

Buckets at the ready !!

When the fire dies out (when all the needles are burnt) a card is used to fan away the ash

The lovely hostess, (the Granny,don't say i didn't tell you) arrives with rustic bread  and the feast begins.

Tradition at this point dictates that you rub your hands in the wet ash and plaster your  guests with it !!  Thats fun  if not somewhat mucky

Then you drink some more and sing a variety of  revolution anthems and football songs.

  

      At that point I left the party for a hour to pop back to the cottage to let the dogs out, leaving Richard and our friend to fend for themselves not realizing that I was still covered in soot as I walked back through the packed village square....Oops !!!     In my absence the "serious" eating and drinking started, apparently the moule were just the appetizers.  When I returned they had worked their way through the cold meats,jugged hare, pasta salads and rice and were stuck into a phenomenal array of desserts (the French masterpieces) flans,tarts and pastries......glad I made it back just in time. !!!  

Next the almost obligitory, boule de petanque which is taken with upmost seriousness and competitiveness whenever played. I myself have had some previous experience and success in the beloved French sport so was looking forward to being paired with a Frenchman to excel at one of their native games....... or so I thought. Colour me totally surprised when confronted with SQUARE boules !!!!!!!! Apparently historically when the playing surface is a "courtyard" not hard dirt ,gravel or grass, the square pieces allow the games to be played whereas round balls would render it impossible....who knew ??? I still got to the quarter finals but ultimately the finals became a French affair.

So there we have it.....A party that started at 10.30 and ran well past 6.30 pm which was when we stole ourselves away. Unique and priceless memories to join our countless other French experiences and THAT my friends is why I will keep hanging out with "le français" as long as they will have me !!