It's Not What You Come With

The Gods of Used Electrical Goods are smiling down on us this week. Hard on the heels of the washing machine comes a telly.

Visiting friends we mentioned our theory that French tv would help us with the language and they promptly produced not one but two tellys surplus to their requirements. We chose the smaller of the two. As my grandma used to say it's not what you come with it's what you go home with that counts.

Now we just need to get some kind of televisual signal to it (I'll leave that to Tech Support). Yes the theory is that watching things like quiz shows where a formula is repeated and where the conversations go "Hello, who are you, what do you do" etc etc should boost our command of the language no end. No doubt I will become profficient at phrases like "come on down". Whatever, it will beat asking for socks of apples at the bakers when I mean apple turnovers.

In fact thinking about it "come on down" could of been useful the other day at the DIY having ordered and paid for our roof insulation we went round the back to the collection point where I boldly pressed the buzzer on the intercom (being the person in charge of communicating in an official capacity with French people) then said "aaahm bonjour aaahm je aaahurrrrm" and then got a fit of the giggles . Luckily the warehouseman was fluent in useless English woman trying to buy stuff and came out to get my receipt.

Seriously though I would like to extend my conversations with Madame next door beyond "yes isn't it a nice/horrible day you are welcome to the eggs yes the chickens are laying very well what? your dog is on the roof?" I have been watching various DVDs in French with English subtitles. Buffy the Vampire Slayer is one of my favourites but I don't seem to be picking up much vocabulary, anyway to my knowledge we don't have a big vampire/demon problem round here.

So if we ever get more than snow on the tv I shall teach you some useful catch phrases for your holidays.

The Washing Machine Goes Round and Round

Washing, clothes that is, has been something of a problem around here. Well washing full stop if I'm honest we have only just this week cured the leak on the shower.

But back to the clothes. Today took me back must be oh more than 35 years, to the day my mum got her first automatic washing machine. Like most families we had a twin tub. For anyone who doesn't know this was a washing machine that had, well twin tubs, one for washing the clothes in and one for spinning them. You moved the clothes from one to the other using a giant pair of wooden tongs (because clothes were boiled to within an inch of their lives in those days and yet my school socks were always greyish not like those girls who always had brilliant white socks and the elastic was always a bit shot probably due to the boiling I still have issues with white clothes) anyway when I say spinning boy do I mean spinning. It certainly got the water out but you then had to peel your creased beyond all recognition clothes off the side of the drum and they would have all the marks from the littles holes permanently in them.

I had a twin tub when I first got married. The spin on that was so vicious that it would come dancing across the kitchen to get you disconnecting the hose on the way and flooding the kitchen.

So anyway, mum got an automatic washing machine and we all sat mesmerised watching it go round, even the dog. It was a day of firsts actually because we also tried instant mashed potato that day (not a success).

Today we did the same except for the instant mash and the washer is in the cellar not the kitchen and the cat watched as well as the dog. After six months of hand washing we are the proud owners of a new to us washing machine. My life is transformed.

No, seriously it is. Honest. I don't know how my mum felt all those years ago but after six months of hand washing everything I really really appreciate having a washing machine any washing machine. I draw the line at a twin tub though.

Bat out of where?

So it's Thursday already I don't know what we've done with this week so far. I could swear it's only Tuesday.

The local wildlife is continuing it's invasion attempts. Last night we were watching The Land of the Dead (not a bad zombie film as zombie films go) and a bat appeared from somewhere (the windows were shut) and flew off upstairs. Perhaps it was just trying to enhance our spooky film viewing experience.

The cat thought it was her birthday oooohhh mouse AND bird combined and ran up the stairs after it with TS in hot pusuit. The gardening gloves were found but the bat was out of reach on one of the beams. We got the step ladders but Mimo thought they were for her to reach the bat so the gardening gloves were used to hold on to her while TS opened the bathroom window to let it out.

Sorry no pictures we never think of the camera in moments of drama.

Anyway are you sure it's Thursday?

Oil Yer Cat Missus

A cautionary tale.

Today TS decided to paint the metal plate at the base of the hearth (round the Rayburn that wasn't moving).

The kitten was playing outside. Now she has had all her jabs we've rigged up a plank so she can come and go from the kitchen window.

Our first mistake was not to lock her out of the way in the bedroom.

Our second mistake was not to lock her out of the way in the bedroom when she came to see what TS was doing.

Our third mistake was not to lock her out of the way in the bedroom when she came back for a second look having been pushed away.

Our fourth mistake was to make a grab for her when she decided to go tripping across the freshly painted hearth.

Mistakes one through four resulted in a kitten with green paint not just on her feet but all over her belly from when she crouched down.

Now mistake number five was to try soap and water. It didn't work and did nothing for kitten human relations.

It was time to appeal to a higher authority (thanks to whoever posted info on unpainting cats on t'internet)

This is the secret of unpainting a kitten

1) get sturdy garden gloves (wet from soap and water optional)
2) get bottle of sunflower (or other vegetable) oil
3 get kitten
4) apply oil to affected areas (your clothes, walls and ceiling optional)
5) rinse off oil and paint mixture with warm soapy water
6) rinse off soap
7) spend the rest of your life atoning

Mongoose, gooses, goosi, geese

You are married to someone for more than a quarter of a century and just when you think you know everything about them you make a stunning discovery. The conversation goes like this.

"What is a mongoose anyway?"

"You've never read Riki Tiki Tavi?"

"No"

"You have! Rudyard Kipling. It kills snakes "

"No"

"We could Google some pictures"

"No that would spoil it"

Perhaps I'd better rewind a little.

There is something or some things that visit our attic. We can hear it/them at night tippety tapping about. During the day the only evidence is bits of beetle carapace and little droppings but not mouse droppings.

TS says it's a mongoose. I had been working under the assumption that he knew what a mongoose was.

When Mimo starts venturing up the attic steps he tells her to watch out for the mongoose. When we can't find things the mongoose has taken it.

The mongoose is up there now as I type.

I don't quite know what mythical beast the word mongoose conjours up for TS I only know he doesn't want to know what's in the attic. He's happy for it to be a mongoose

I'm happy that we've got a door on the bedroom. I'll be even happier when Mimo is of a size to go mongoose hunting.

Menhir and Chips

We decided to have a random drive round and sightseeing trip today cos we never go anywhere and we felt we should for a change.


First new place was Mortemart a really pretty village. They have a country market Friday mornings apparently. So of course we rolled up on Thursday when the tumble weed was blowing down the main street.






Seeing a sign for megaliths we followed it to the Menhir de Ceinturat. Sissy and I are in the picture to give some idea of scale. Set a good way along a track, just when you think you've gone the wrong way you see it looming through the trees. Excellent place.





Then we followed the autre megaliths sign to the Stone of Sacrifice. Quite frankly I think it was just the baldy bit at the top of a hill but an interesting looking stone for all that.






Then on to Confolens mainly because we've never driven in that direction before. It looked quite nice but I'm afraid our appetite for sightseeing was on the wane by this time. We were seduced by the aroma of Le Chippy where we had pie, chips and mushy peas washed down with a can of pop. Sissy was particularly impressed by the chips. Then we came home.

Chicken Run

"It's like this chicken I'm a predator and you're prey"

"Come on girls there's three of us"

"Ooooooh . . .














. . . sh******t"





















"So anyway I said come on you three chickens if it wasn't for this wire fence you'd be KFC"

That's What I Call Cool

A surprising star has arisen from the ranks of our permanently rained upon veg. It’s the Wautoma cucumber.

While the other veg has been swooning and demonstrating that it can’t possibly perform under these conditions especially with amateurs like us in charge. The cucumbers have been quietly getting on with it. Hiding their harvest under their sprawling leaves. Providing us with tasty little cucumbers in the face of adversity.

Even among this doughty crowd there is one little chap/ess who stands out. Barely half a dozen leaves have escaped the slugs but undaunted it has made it’s contribution.

Ladies and gentlemen I give you . . The Little Cucumber That Could

Change

Today I've changed my (blogger) name from Karen to Breezy, it's more of a wish than something I feel right now.

Tasha 1993 to 2007

My Princess Puppy, so called because no matter how high you piled the cushions she had to lie right on the top (think of the fairy story the Princess and the Pea). We found her when she was about six months old tied to a tree in the woods. She was mostly some kind of terrier. She loved sneaking under the duvet for a lie in and having the comfiest chair in the house, she hated lying on the floor like a common dog and going out in the rain. She died last night.