Mad Darby Diaries

Yesterday I took the mincepies I had made to a group of friends, various nationalities.  Three men, 2 English one German were saying that Brexit needed a man to take charge.  I ignored their comments.  I have heard their opinions many times before and turned my attention to the Frenchman and the American sitting either side of me.  The misogynists turned their attention to women in sport.  'Tennis is ok', one of them said.  'Skiing too but not ski jumping and the other winter sports, they are too physical.  And it is ridiculous that women play football.'  'It is like golf, why do women want to join a men's club?   Rotary Clubs were never the same after they let women join and now my club has closed after 100 years.'   Could it be because his Rotary Club refused to let women in? The German reached over and took a mincepie.  'These are beautiful.  If women spent more time cooking and less time trying to do other things...

I decided to clear out a pile of business cards that had accumulated in a folder.  As well as restaurants and an array of cards from Istanbul and Mysore shops, there were several Russians, German, Chinese people of whom I have no memory.  Could I have been a spy in my working life?  I found the name and address of a cousin I have never heard of.  Did I contact her at some time?  Probably not.  I have moved so many times in my life that I find clearing out stuff is cathartic.  I am the complete opposite of a hoarder, but do I do the same with people, just clear them out of my mind?  Amongst this pile of long forgotten people and places I found the following which must have amused me. Grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway The good fortune to run into the ones I do And the eyesight to tell the difference

So last week I escaped the protests in France to go to the UK to babysit only to immersed in the Brexit fiasco going on there.  I took Ryanair.  In the pouring rain, coming horizontally because of the wind all the passengers were hustled out of the terminal so that we could stand getting soaking wet for 15 minutes.  Why?  What reasonable company would behave like that?  We didn't get onto the plane any quicker, we just got wetter and then had to sit for an hour and a hour in wet clothes.  For those at the front of the line who had paid for priority boarding, it must have been more annoying and I would add there was a woman in a wheelchair and parents holding babies and toddlers.  So come on Ryanair where is our dignity? As the protests continue I notice that they have erected wooden sheds at the roundabouts, supposedly to keep warm and dry when there is no vehicle in sight.  Today the students in the school have walked out.  Are they reall...

The protests go on and on.  Whilst I am sympathetic to them on the subject of fuel taxes, the violence is inexcusable and the protest seems to have spread to a general anti-Macron feeling.  In this region the protests have been peaceful but you never know which road, roundabout or garage they are going to be blocking on any one day.  Hence yesterday I left half an hour early for an appointment and the roads were clear but when I returned I was held up by burning tyres, a lecture and yet another petition to sign.  My name must be appearing on so many pieces of paper that I will probably be thrown out of the country for being a political agitator. Brexit, too, goes on ad infinitum with seemingly no end in sight.  Whilst I keep hearing that the EU want and need Britain more than Britain needs them, the reality is that France at least couldn't care a less about Britain and I suspect that the rest of the EU feel the same. Meanwhile on the other side of the pond ...

While waiting for our tennis match one of the men challenged us all to a skipping competition.  I haven't skipped since I was at school but I found that it was easy and really enjoyable.  A few days later I went to Decathlon and asked a young man if he had any skipping ropes.  'How old is she?' he asked.  'HE is 85' I replied, and left him with his mouth open.

The day of protest was Saturday, then Sunday, Monday and Tuesday.  Yesterday I joined the 5 kilometre queue of traffic trying to either get into the town or round it.  Every vehicle was stopped and asked to sign a petition.  I didn't dare ask what would happen if I didn't sign and clearly all the other drivers willingly took the pen and scribbled their name.  I was very late for my tennis game.  As I left I gaily said to my tennis partner, 'At least they don't stop people leaving the town.'  I spoke too soon.  Every driver was again being asked to sign the petition.  Although I had already signed it there was nothing I could do but patiently wait in the traffic jam. Despite everything that is said in the UK on the subject of Brexit and all the false reassurances, the French do what they want.  The latest official French government announcement is that if there is a no deal Brexit then none of the British living in France will have any stat...

Saturday was the day of protest against rising fuel prices, caused not by global oil but by Macron's implementing taxes on it.  This meant that virtually everyone supported the protests. I had a team tennis match to play on Sunday and as it was taking place at our club we had to provide lunch for the visiting team.  The only thing they entrusted me to bring was the drinks.  I left it until Saturday to go and buy it.  Big mistake.  The protesters stopped my car at the entrance to the town and told me that all the garages and supermarkets were closed.  I smiled, agreed with everything they said and asked if I could just be let through as I needed to find food somewhere or I would starve.  It was freezing out so I felt really sorry for them, up to a point.  They let me through, even thanking me for my support and gaily stuck protest stickers all over my car.  The town was a ghost town.  The protesters had blocked all the entrances to all...

Last evening I played a tennis match against an 18 year old.  I suppose it was a miracle that I won the first set as I am three times her age. When I was little my father used to wake me up about 4am to make tea for all my siblings and to clear out the fire.  Yes a true Cinderella.  Other tasks fell my way too so when I was an adult I asked my father why it was always me.  I was after all the fifth child of six, lost in the shuffle of a large family.  His reply was simple, ' You were the most willing.' I have been selected to play in the  tennis club team,  which plays against the other clubs in the department.  Why would they choose me when there are plenty of young fit women in the club and the matches take place on Sundays so they don't interfere with work, college etc.?  I was given the answer, 'You are the most willing.' Can world politics get any worse?  Or can Trump get any worse?  Can Brexit ever be worked out?  ...

Yesterday I went to the Marie, the insurance office, Lidl and it was only when I went to the ladies in Le Clerc supermarket that I noticed my jacket was inside out. At the Mairie I needed the Maire to sign a paper proving that I was still alive.  This is for the pension service in the UK. I wanted to change my car and house insurance from the useless company I had been using.  I answered thousands of questions, was in the insurance office for 4 hours and had to sign or initial 80 pieces of paper.  It was dark when I left and I had lost the will to live. At Le Clerc I wanted to buy a sim card for my mobile phone.  I had to produce my passport, prove my date of birth, my address  and that I have the right to live in the country.  What?  No blood? Happy days ahead in the States with a split government.  Either Trump will become even more deranged or gridlock will happen. What is this new habit in the UK for people to start every sentence w...

While the world has its eyes on Iran, the American Midterm elections and Saudi Arabia, the French people are concentrating on the rising cost of petrol and diesel.  The 17 November will see the population mobilised in protests.  It started with the farmers but has now spread to the general public and plans are afoot to block highways, close down public services (not unusual here) and call a general strike.  Of course being a Saturday, most things are closed anyway so the disruption may be mooted but on the other hand more people will be available to protest. I have learned that when one comes across an angry crowd burning tyres, you roll down your window, accept their leaflets, agree with whatever they are protesting about and tell them you are on your way to join a protest down the road.  They let you through. This time, however, I am tempted to join them because the cost of petrol is rising fast.  Otherwise the only other march I joined was in Saumur when...

Can Trump become even more unhinged than he has been?  If he got his way over changing Article 14 of the Constitution my son will lose his American citizenship.  He is now sending 15000 soldiers to the southern border and if the immigrants throw a stone at them Trump expects the army to shoot them. Meanwhile the Crown Prince, who Trump believes is telling the truth when he says he knew nothing about the death of Kashoggi,  has told him that Kashoggi was a dangerous Islamist terrorist.  No doubt Trump will believe that too. I decided to go to a ladies lunch that was advertised in English.  It was in a village south of where I live, an area I know nothing about.  There were 30 British women, not one of them spoke any French and they all live either in the same village or in villages close by.  In this environment they have a great social life, mostly to do with alcohol as far as I could gather and are totally ignorant about French life, mixing only ...

I finally went to retrieve my car, an 11 hour round trip.  The length of time it took was partly due to the fact that Hertz car hire in Le Havre and the garage were closed between 12 and 2pm.  If the British think that tailgating is a problem in the UK they should come to France to experience a masterclass.  The taxi ride from my home to Saumur was one of those times when your foot is constantly hitting the imaginary brake as the taxi driver drove at high speed to within a foot of the car in front.  As it was the hour when everyone was going to work what did she expect to gain apart from annoying the driver in front?  On the way to Le Havre I stopped in a supermarket, a very large, very busy supermarket.  When I came out I looked around for the car I had hired.  I was convinced it was black but where did I leave it exactly?  I checked the card key to find the number plate details but there were none.  Now in the UK you would probably find ...

After 5 weeks my car is finally fixed so tomorrow I make the trek back to Le Havre to pick it up.  I could have taken a mechanic's course and fixed it myself in the time it has taken the garage to do it.  Yesterday I played a 40 year vet in a tennis tournament and won.  I felt slightly guilty as she had come all the way to my house to pick me up and then having lost had to bring me all the way back. I have learned a few things during my forced imprisonment.  You don't do more housework, you don't spend hours doing anything intelligent, you don't clear out messy drawers and cupboards and in fact the less you do, the less you want to do.   I prefer going out in the sunshine or riding my bike to being indoors and as much as I like living in the country, next time I move I am going where there is a bus, and shops, a library, a cinema, the odd museum - oh bliss.  Of course I would hate the noise. Even Trump has had to admit that the Saudis killed Kas...

Yesterday was a long day.  I was picked up by Marie-Helene at 8am to take me to our walking group.  As French drivers go Marie-Helene is a careful driver, not tail-gating and not overtaking recklessly.  She doesn't keep to the speed limits but then I have yet to find one who does.  She is a dithering driver, however, someone who can get lost on a straight road.  So when I said take the first exit off  the roundabout  Marie-Helene drove straight past it and said 'shall we take this exit?' heading for the second one.  Well no actually go all the way round the roundabout and take the first exit..  This continued all the way until we reached La Fleche.  Our instructions said to head for the town centre.  Take the first exit, I said.  'Shall we take this one?' she asked indicating the sign that said Angers.  I remained calm and suggested that she take the exit that says town centre.  'Oh alright' sounding disappointing th...

Trump lies every day and his supporters shrug their shoulders and dismiss it as not being important.  No-one challenges him, least of all the Republicans, who are pushed to exasperation, but they don't push back.  Americans live in a bubble and most of them have no idea how he is viewed on the world stage and they don't care. Having said that even Trump has not killed someone in the White House and dismembered him.  How stupid and naive do the Saudis think we are? There are no rogue people in a Consulate.  They are security cleared, including the locally employed staff. Everyone of the security cameras was out of order.  Oh really? 15 men who must have had previous security clearance, flew directly from Saudi to Istanbul and  arrived at the consulate in a black van, leaving several hours later flying straight back to Saudi. The Consul General and everyone else in the Consulate had knowledge and were witnesses of what happened to Jamal Koshoggi. ...

I despair of the American political system.  President Trump has had proven financial dealings with the mafia both Italian and Russian, he lies many times every single day.  He is unfaithful and has no respect for women.  He is surrounded by sycophants and he is being played by the leaders of the Republican party, the Saudis, the Russians and the gun lobby but he gets to choose whether he is interviewed by Mueller and even gets to choose the written questions he is asked.  It is obvious to an idiot that his lawyers will just make up answers on his behalf.  So now do the parents tell their children that if you get to be President you can lie about anything you like, hide your tax returns, alienate your allies etc etc and nobody will do anything about it?  That is my rant for the day. Talking about Americans, I met one in the market on Friday.  I haven't seen him for about 8 years but he remembered me, my name (first and second), where I lived, how ma...

I have never seen the point of doing your supermarket shopping online, especially in the UK where they are open all hours.  Also thWere are corner shops everywhere that seem to stock the essentials.  Now having been without my car for 2 weeks I was beginning to see the attraction, although we don't have online shopping and no corner stores either.  Several people know that I am without a car but no-one seemed to connect that fact with my need to eat and therefore to shop.  Then last night I had 3 offers.  Well what can a girl say? With time on my hands my son suggested I try to do something about the triffids in the garden.  As my garden is not near the house, and I detest gardening, it is easy to forget it exists.  However this morning I went up there and managed to pull enough triffids out to see that there is a path.  I dug and weeded, working like a trojan but really the only result was that I had removed weeks from area only to make a big ...

I live in a flat part of the country.  In August I borrowed a potty from someone who lives 2 villages away for my grandson so I thought I had better return it.  On my bicycle of course.  Why is it that when driving a car all the roads seem to be flat and level but as soon as you get on a bike they take on similarities to climbing Everest?  It took an hour to get there and they weren't even in but at least the ride back was mainly downhill. I used to live in Ventnor on the Isle of Wight where all the roads are steep and there are hundreds of steps to climb.  One day when I was walking the dog I came across a couple of young people, probably about 18 or 19 years old.  The girl was wearing high heel shoes and was standing at the bottom of very steep steps.  'Oh no,' she said, 'not another bleeding 'ill.'

Yesterday was not a great day.  I telephoned the garage where my car is supposedly being repaired and was informed that they hadn't even ordered the new clutch.  The reason I was given is that I haven't signed the devis (estimate) agreeing to the work.  As I haven't received one this was hard to understand.  They couldn't send it, apparently, because they didn't have my email address.  1.  I left it with their manager, who apparently has gone on holiday 2.  Why didn't they phone and ask for it? 3.  Even snail mail would have reached me way before now. 4.  When I spoke to the manager a week ago we agreed the price (not that I have much choice) and the time scale of 2 weeks, no longer he promised. I have now gone 10 days without a car and they are telling me that they can't finish the work until the end of October, another three and a half weeks away. I phoned the garage this morning to ask if they had ordered the new clutch yesterday....

I can't believe my son is 48 today, although I should as my eldest son will be 50 in January.  Now in my book the older you get the later middle age becomes.  I still think of my children as being in their twenties, even though I have grandchildren of that age.  So with everyone looking younger these days, well maybe not all of us, I think middle age now begins when you are 60.  After all what is the point of retiring in your sixties if you are already old and incapable?  So you retire and become middle aged.  There, that makes me feel better because in my head I am in my thirties, it is only the mirror that tells me otherwise, so don't look. My father spent the first 30 odd years on horseback in India and he used to talk about being saddle sore.  I didn't really experience this until I came to France and started riding my bike more often and further.  This week, with no car, I am riding it quite a bit and the phrase saddle sore keeps reverbera...

After more than 2 years  of being told 'non' I have my Carte de Sejour (resident's permit).  In typical French style it says it is permanent but also says it runs out in 2028, which presumably means it can be renewed.  I don't care, I have it in my sticky fingers.  Whether it will make any difference come 29 March when the UK leaves the EU remains to be seen. My neighbour is retiring in January at the age of 62, Macron's new retirement age for normal occupations.  Her husband, who is younger but looks 20 years older, has another 6 years to go.  She wants to move now the children are grown up and settled.  He wants to stay because he has spent years renovating the place and doesn't want to start again.  She has a nice car, he drives an old wreck that keeps breaking down.  She wants to travel, he wants to drink beer and do nothing.  Do you think the cracks of incompatibility appear when people retire? I know I am getting old because y...

I finally managed to catch one of the lizards that was running round my house, and deposited it outside in the garden.  To be fair there was no skill involved.  I think it was getting tired and hungry and so resisted arrest. I don't what is more mad - American politics or Brexit.

1. At the beginning of the year a great big wall dividing my house from my neighbour's fell down.  The insurance refused to pay out because it was caused by rain, not wind.  I paid up. 2. In August I decided I really needed to do something about the degradation of the walls of my house and take urgent action to stop them deteriorating further.   The house is built of tuffeau stone and French houses rarely have a damp proof course.  The combination of this and the soft stone causes the walls to crumble.  So at enormous expense I have had a damp proof course put in.  I now wait six months and if I have any money the walls will be re-done. 3.  I was at the top of the Pont de Normandie in Le Havre, having just got off the ferry when I tried to change gear and instead of it engaging it stayed in neutral.  I cruised down the bridge and let the car follow the road until I spotted a piece of ground between the autoroute and the route nationale....

I have a neighbour called Monsieur Tutee but my 2 year old grandson calls him Mr Patootee.  Cute. While I was in Romania with 2 of my sons we went to Dracula's castle, which has little about Dracula but is in a beautiful setting.  As we were heading through the mountains it was pointed out that we were passing the highest mountain in the country.  Ah yes, I thought, I remember it well.  A few years back a friend and I had got lost on that mountain for 2 days and were probably lucky to get out safely. Back in Bucharest the drivers see no point in obeying the rules of the road.  Red lights are a minor distraction and not to be stopped at.  Beware any pedestrian who sets foot on the crossing when the green man shows and if you are a driver don't assume that because you have a green light that cars will not cross your path.  I counted three vehicles where the driver was actually wearing a seat belt and children were standing up in the well of the fron...

I have been travelling for most of this year, sometimes babysitting, sometimes going to other countries.  It has been busy and enjoyable but with every up there are 3 downs and so it has proved to be.  However I am an optimist so humour must take precedence over disaster. I was sitting in a service station on the autoroute enjoying a coffee.  An English couple, who appeared to be stone deaf were shouting at each other, not in anger, just trying to communicate.  The woman spread all her Euro coins on the table and demanded to know how she was supposed to know which coins to spend in which country.  Her husband picked some up and put them down again.  Meanwhile his wife was complaining about how stupid the Euro was and it was a good job that the UK hadn't joined.  I looked around the room to see people's reactions but clearly they didn't speak English so missed the insult to their currency.  After about 10 minutes of the wife's complaining, her h...

I just heard the Irish Prime  Minister give his speech welcoming the Pope to Ireland.  He said and I quote, 'we make bridges, not walls because walls fall.'  Ouch!  Clearly didn't remember the bridge that collapsed 2 weeks ago in Italy, home of the Vatican.

August is notoriously dead in France, unless of course you are one of the thousands of people who take off on holiday.   Just as the tourists pour in, restaurants close their shutters and take off en vacances.  I have tried to contact an estate agent this month.  I went to five in one very small  town and four had notices on their door saying closed until the end of August.  Some said from the 1st August to the 27th August.  A whole month when sellers are not getting any work done by the agent and anyone wanting to buy, including the many people from northern Europe, cannot even get information about a property. I went on their websites.  No mention of the fact that the office is closed.  One said leave your details and we will contact you in 24 hours.  Fat chance, but I left my details anyway.  That was over 2 weeks ago. Now we all  love France's laid back attitude to life, unless they are protesting against the governmen...

I called one of my sisters yesterday.  We were talking about Brexit deadline looming in March next year and its possible consequences.  She had been referred to the Ear, nose and throat specialist two months ago and because she hadn't heard anything, she understandably telephoned to find out what was happening.  The woman looked up her records and said it would be another 36 weeks.  36 weeks! Brexit will happen before I get my appointment, my sister said, resignedly. And talking of Brexit a new message has appeared on the Prefecture website.  No appointments are being made for Residents' permits until after March next year.  That is after Brexit so will they turn around and say 'too late'?

Today I set off very early to get to the Prefecture in Niort, an hour and 45 minutes away.  After trying for 2 years I had finally been granted an interview to get a resident's permit and I was leaving nothing to chance.  I had every piece of paper required by the Ministry of Interior and I also had documents that the Prefecture in Niort told me on the phone that I would need. The woman asked for my birth certificate, the original and a copy.  I pointed out that this requirement was not on the official list.  She took it from me, read it, shrugged her shoulders and said, 'we have our own rules'.  I wanted to point out that the Minister's rules are their rules as he is their boss but I held my tongue and handed over my birth certificate. She demanded bills, tax returns and proof of income for the last five years, originals and copies.  She wanted to see my carte vitale (health card) and my top up health insurance with copies.  Joyfully I handed ove...

My bank has informed me that they will not longer deal with cheques.  I do receive cheques sometimes but it is a very long time since I wrote one, in the UK that is.  Yesterday I went to the market in Saumur and I saw at least 8 people writing cheques to pay for their fruit and vegetables.  It is the same in the supermarket when the queue waits patiently while the people in front laboriously write out their cheques.   I still have to write cheques in France. We must not jest or sneer, however.  This 'progress' has another serious side.  Not everyone has a credit or debit card.   Not everyone has the capability to manage their finances except with cash.  Not everyone has the capability to use internet banking.  There are thousands of people with learning disabilities who can only manage their finances with help from someone else.  Many people still do not use computers or the latest versions of mobile phone.  Some people...

I know how big business feels when considering their future after Brexit.  What should we be doing to prepare for it?  I have no idea.  Should  I try and sell my house?  Should I move to yet another country, in which case which one?  It has been recommended that British citizens get a permanent resident permit.  For most Brits this has been fairly easy but for me it has taken 2 years to finally get an appointment, reluctantly granted after I told the Prefecture that I had an e mail  from the Minister of Interior. So on Thursday I have a 2 hour drive to a town I have never been to for my interview.  The Prefecture gave me a list of documents I should bring, but only after I asked what I would need.  Their list bears no relation to the official list from the Minister of Interior but I am not taking any chances, I am going to take everything.  I have always said that French bureaucracy is fine as long as you have the right documents...

I have been in the UK where it was surprisingly hot, not hot hot but hot for the UK.  They complain a lot about the heat and the country almost grinds to a halt.  Why?  It is much hotter in most of the rest of the world and somehow they survive.  The first lesson the Brits have to learn is that you open the doors and windows at night and early morning and then you close them, trapping the cool air inside and the hot air out.  Close the curtains to stop the sun shining in and voila you have a cool house.  The other problem the Brits have is that they don't drink enough water.  I don't know how many times I have heard them say that they drink it sometimes in the summer.  Water is a life staple, not a summer drink. The French have lowered the speed limit to 80 kilometres an hour on ordinary roads.  There is a 50 limit through my village and they go through it at 90 plus.  Do you suppose they will reduce their speed to 80? While waiting...

When you come from a large family I suppose it is inevitable that our politics would cross a wide spectrum.  We range from far left (get rid of the Royal family and stage a revolution) to far right (get rid of everyone who isn't of pure English, not even British, stock).  The latter is a surprising one since we ourselves are a mixture of several races, including Indian and Irish.  Then there are Moroccans, Welsh, Scottish, American and goodness knows what else.  As I say we are a large family and scattered across the globe. I digress however.  The trouble with being on the far left or the far right, or even an avid liberal democrat, is that you only read their side of the story, buy the newspapers that support your point of view and believe anything on social media that either praises your side or denigrates the other.  There is no reasoning that perhaps in some cases the opposing view may be right, it couldn't possibly be, and so healthy political debat...

I went flying on Friday.  Not in the conventional sense, I actually flew off a stationary bike and landed ungainly on the ground injuring my left foot, knee and thigh and strangely my right hand.  My sister, torn between laughing and showing  sympathy, did a superb job mopping up blood and dispensing ice to all the injured parts.  Yesterday going up and downstairs was excruciating, today it is tolerable.  Tomorrow I shall be back to normal.  The bike is on its way to the Salvation Army.  The way my sister thinks of it is if I fall off it when it is not moving, there is no way she is going to ride it.  I told her to buy an electric one. I tried phoning the Bognor Regis branch of Sainsburys but the number was unavailable.  I phoned directory enquiries but they said it was ex-directory.  Ex-directory?  A supermarket?  This could be a clue as to why Sainsburys financial results have been floundering.  It was  important...

I have been toilet training my 2 year old grandson this past week, with some success I might add, but it takes perseverance and a keen eye.  You have to be fleet of foot, persuasive and a certain amount of bribery and incentive also come into play.  I set up a star chart for him so each time he used the potty I put a sticker on his chart. In a rare week I also managed to see all three of my sons and 3 of my grandsons.  My eldest son was full of his sarcastic humour and good conversation.   My second son, when shown the fruits of my labour with the toilet training, looked at the long row of stickers and said, 'that's impressive'.  I  preened.  Praise at last.  Then he added, 'how does he manage to pee that many times in one day?'  

I am looking after my 2 year old grandson this month so no time to reflect, or write much.  The weather in the UK is unusually dry and hot but I don't mind that, although running after a 2 year old and pushing him uphill is challenging.  I sleep in the attic, which has 2 windows, one on each side and keeps up a nice temperature during the night.  It isn't the heat that keeps me awake it is a pesky pigeon.  It sits outside my window and repeats over and over and over again that same boring 3 note sound that all pigeons make.  What is it doing there in the middle of the night?  Don't birds sleep?  If I was a kid I would probably get the old fashioned catapult out and if I was Donald   Trump I would grab my shotgun, or order one of my lackeys to shoot  it.  What do I do?  I ineffectively go shoo, shoo, and then when it inevitably returns to my window I end up talking to it. t

My visitors have departed and I am once again packing my bags and heading off.  But wait a minute, my son would like me to bring a bookcase with me, solid wood and heavy.  Will it even go in the car and if I do manage to carry it out to the car and lift it single handedly into the car will there be room for my suitcase?  It is a work in progress.  I managed to get it to the car, a neighbour waved bonjour,  and drove off in his car.  Did he not notice me struggling with a bookcase 4ft by 3ft?  I always meant to be one of those helpless women whom everyone rushes to help but somehow I never quite made it and frankly it is usually easier to just 'do it yourself'. A wild boar strolled past the house this morning, perhaps he could give me a hand.

Finally the sun is shining and normal weather has resumed service.  I hadn't realised how much water had flooded into the car and after 2 weeks I am still trying to dry out the floor and the storage spaces.  My adult grandchildren and their girlfriends are here this week and although the bank is truly broken they too brought the sunshine with their good company, good humour and enthusiasm. On Thursday we took advantage of a non strike day to go to Paris.  As we were walking down the Champs d'Elysee we spotted a duck and three ducklings heading for the pedestrian crossing.  We were impressed.  The mother duck had a confident look in her eye. She knew that she wanted to get to the river and the crossing was the safest means of doing so.  All was going well until some  silly woman decided to shoo the duck family off the crossing and back to the pavement.  The duck, clearly more intelligent than the woman, kept trying to get round her and as a cons...

It is the tennis tournament this week.  There are more men who play singles tennis so they get split into groups of under 35, over 35, over 45 and even an over  55.  The ladies are thinner on the ground and so we have to take our chances.  I am the oldest lady so I know my opponent is going to be younger than I am, it is what degree of youth is going to face me across that net. My first match took place on a sunny Sunday afternoon when I played a Vet in her late thirties.  No problem there.  Clearly she was worn out from dealing with all those animals and I beat her easily.  The next match was Monday evening and this is where I now suspect that I am in fact fairly old.  I cannot play tennis in the evening.  I was due to play at 6.30pm, which I thought I could probably just about handle but of course I didn't take into account that irritating French habit of always being late.  She eventually turned up at 7.30pm, a springy 29 year old,...

What woke me up this morning was the fact that a truck was passing the house very slowly.  When I drove back from tennis last night I noticed the river had burst its bank but it is a long way from here so was not that worried.  However as a precaution I left the car on higher ground.  I am so glad I did because the road is flooded.  At five this morning I was talking to my neighbours from our upstairs windows, watching the water rise.  Monsieur Toutee, a neighbour, appeared in the middle of the road in high boots, which were rapidly filling with water.  The other neighbours ducked inside their houses while I waved to him and said bonjour.  He raised his arms like King Canute and shook his fists then went to move his tractor.  The other neighbours opened their windows again. I am moving stuff upstairs just in case.  Their are 3 steps up to the front door and the water has covered one of them.  I am lucky.  My neighbours opposite a...

The tax office sent me an email saying they had queries about my tax return.  In France everyone has to file a tax return every year even employees, although they are making moves to change that.  Anyway I went to the tax office wondering what I could have done wrong, especially as my income is very straightforward.  I showed the email to the receptionist, who instead of giving me a number to join the queue, sent me upstairs where I joined one other person.  Eventually it was my turn to enter the inner sanctum of the tax office but when I explained that I had been called in to answer queries, the woman stood up and said I have to see the manager, and she left the room.  I waited 10 minutes before the manager walked in and I explained who I was.  She went to find my tax return and came back holding a red pen.  She then proceeded to cross out all my entries, telling me off as she went.  This is on the wrong line, this has an incorrect code. ...

I don't close the shutters at night so I wake up in natural daylight.  Yesterday I woke up and glanced at the clock.  Ten to ten!  I leapt out of bed and ran downstairs.  In a couple of hours guests were coming for lunch and the meat would take that long to cook.  I ran into the kitchen but noticed all the shutters were open downstairs.  Those I close every night.  'The house guests must be up already',  I thought and went to the cooker.  Then I noticed a very bright moon in the sky.  My mind could not compute the circumstances.  I glanced up at the clock.  Ten o'clock.  The young may not be able to read regular clocks  but that is all I have.  And as I stood there in my befuddled state I realised that it was 10 o'clock  at night, not  morning. I staggered back to bed promising to invest in a 24hr clock.  Now I know why the young need them when they stagger out of nightclubs.  You will...

This morning my brother in law was desperately trying to get the top off the milk carton.  After a while he handed it to me, defeated.   I opened it.  We looked out of the window and saw my neighbour, who drinks like a fish and smokes,  lift a washing machine out of his car and carry it into his house.

The south of France has seen some furious storms this year from torrential rain to huge hailstones which have decimated the Bordeaux vineyards. As a consequence my visitors who set off to enjoy the balmy weather near Carcassonne got bogged down in mud, froze in the house they were staying in and escaped back here to my light,  sunny home.    More visitors will arrive in a couple of weeks and in the meantime I have a tennis tournament to play.

When my grandfather was killed on the Kyber Pass he left behind many children, about 8 or 10, all boys except one girl.  He was only 43 when he died and several years later my grandmother married a Major in the British army and had four more children.  My father and all his siblings died decades ago so imagine our surprise when told that the last of the 4 half brothers and sisters has only just died at nearly 100 and her funeral is today.  My sister is going and she will meet two of the children (our half cousins?).  I vaguely remember them as the whole family had that slightly peculiar accent that the colonials in India had.  One cousin had lost her eye and wore a glass one that stared straight ahead.  She and her sister went to the States where she married a wealthy man and had the eye replaced with one that moves and apparently doesn't look false at all.  I have never quite discovered why I was born in Waterlooville when we didn't live anywhere n...

It is that time of year when I have people çome to stay.  On Thursday we went to Puy de Fou, which is a great day out.  For the journey there the gps took us on a mystery tour through small french villages and narrow country lanes. On the way back, and without changing any of the settings, it took the usual more direct route along wide dual carriageways.  This makes me wonder if machines are developing into wilful independent beings because they know they are more intelligent and that we have been lulled into a false sense  of thinking that we are in charge. The other visitors are the house martins who  sweep in, building nests under the eaves,  and leaving a mess, but clinging on to the walls until their young are ready to fly away. 

So who unplugged my freezers and fridge while I was away?  The mason says he never stepped foot inside the house.  My neighbour says the mason unplugged them to put his tools in.  Who to believe?  I am extremely disappointed in whoever did do it and doesn't have the moral fortitude to own up and it chips away at my faith in human nature and honesty. For the last 18 months I have been asking the prefecture to give me a carte de sejour permanente, which is an identity card and gives me the right to live in France.  Their answer is always 'non'.  My prefecture is in Niort, a two hour drive away so I asked if I could go to the one in Angers, which is 45 minutes away, but they said I must go to the prefecture in my  department.  Angers have been willingly granting carte de sejour to all the Brits who applied. I asked the Maire to intervene but they got the same answer 'non',  So I wrote to the Minister of the Interior and he replied with the ...

My garden isn't next to my house.  It is along the road, up a lane and across an overgrown path.  It is very large but I hate gardening and because I can't see it from the house it is a case of out of sight, out of mind.  It is at least 5 months since I went up there so I wasn't surprised to see that the triffids had once again taken over and had completely buried the lavender bushes, the fruit bushes and were desperately trying climb up the fruit trees. However on parting the triffids I was surprised to see that the lavender bushes were trying to survive and there were even blue flowers appearing on them.  Further over there were big, fat red strawberries just waiting to be eaten, if only I could get to them.  What a sorry sight but also encouraging that nature continues to attempt survival despite my best efforts to annihilate it.  I was impressed but not enough to plunge in and try to clear it.  The task is just to huge and I did cut the bushes b...

I have spent my years in France resisting the temptation to play tennis wearing short skirts, which barely cover your bottom  or figure hugging shorts that definitely don't.  Not a difficult decision for me.  It was hot the other day so we decided to play tennis on the outside courts, which are situated in a public park full of children, joggers, dog walkers etc.  My tennis partner arrived wearing cut offs and a tee shirt.    I turned to her to ask which end she wanted to play and she was standing there in her underwear.  I looked across at the two men playing on the adjacent court.  They waved, said bonjour, and didn't seem to notice I was standing next to someone in  tiny bikini pants and a very revealing bra.  I turned back as my tennis partner was putting on the smallest skirt you could wear without it being a handkerchief, and an even smaller crop top.  She might just as well as stayed in her underwear. I went into the ...

A few years ago I convinced the maire that we needed 50km signs in our hamlet.  They were duly installed and the only  person who does 50 is me.  Now Macron has decided to lower the speed limit on regular roads from 90 to 80 to cut the enormous road death tally. As I have never seen a policeman  or speed camera in this area I suppose that we will just have to trust the drivers to obey the law just like they obey the 50 signs. It is quiet though this week.  With 2 bank holidays in one week why bother going to work at all?   Even the schools decided it was a waste of time so abandoned opening this week.  It is quiet in the house too as Jean Pierre, my neighbour climbed up into the roof and fixed the noisy extractor fan.

There are 5 bank holidays this month.  No wonder the French economy is so dismal.  I have just thrown a bottle of white vinegar across the hall and steps outside to try to stem the invading army of ants.  They have resisted anything else I have in the house, which boasts that they will kill anything insect like.  To be fair they do kill, in their millions, as I have witnessed, vacuuming up the hoards of dead bodies, but they don't actually stop them coming in. I went out and looked in the bin.  No sign of maggots yet but this is day 3 and there are 3 more to go.  I am sending an email to the mason asking him to compensate me for the loss of a month's supply of goods in my freezer.  I could add starvation as all the shops are closed.  It is quiet though.

My return home has not been an auspicious one.  While I was away a wall had fallen down due to buckets of rain.  The insurance wouldn't pay because it fell down due to rain not wind.  Apparently they would pay if I contacted the French meteorological office and get proof that the wind was blowing at more than 100km an hour at the moment the wall fell down.  Really? Life is too  short and why do I pay insurance for anything when they never pay out.  So I asked my neighbour if he could organise a mason for me.  The wall was rebuilt and I signed away my savings to pay for it. The first thing I noticed when I opened the back door was the smell and what looked like blood running across the kitchen floor.  As there was not sign of a body and being a reasonably calm person, I looked for another explanation.  Some idiot had unplugged both freezers and the fridge!  Grabbing a garbage bag I emptied the freezers of all its contents, even throwin...

It is 2 days of farewell before I return to France. Sisters,  sons,  daughters in law and grandsons.  It won't be long until I see them again though.  yesterday I spent the day with my grandson in London. When we are together we run races, hide and seek, silly games and somersaults.   Is that why my grandson looked up at a  tall tree and said, 'when you grow up grandma you'll be able to climb that tree.'  Mm tempting

The bizarre stay at the pub continued.  Customers continue to help themselves,  no one pays and even when I offered £15, which I guessed would probably cover my dinner and wine, I  was given  £5 back.  The whole experience was hilarious and long may it last but economically it seems unlikely.  Today I am in Sussex,  tomorrow in London and on Sunday I return to France,  to strikes multiple May bank holidays, empty roads and peaceful Sundays.  The strikes will stop during July and August when the French go on holiday.  They need trains and pllanes  to get from a to b.

Are we losing British eccentricity? I am in Cornwall staying in a very old pub where nothing works,  customers help themselves to drinks and no one seems to pay.  If you ask what time dinner is the landlord replies 'whenever you want '. If you ask what is on the menu he says 'whatever you want '. The same four customers who were propping up the bar 2 years ago are still the only customers.  A woman came in and started canoodling with one of the customers.  'Are they an item?' my sister asked  innocently.  'He's gay' said a customer as he popped behind the bar to help himself to another pint of beer.  The woman started to discuss going away for a long weekend in a 6 berth caravan.  The landlord asked the gay man if he would be taking his mother,  with whom he lives apparently.  My sister and I were becoming more and more bemused  and confused.  From time to time a customer would go ouside to smoke a cigarette but after a few ...

Are we meant to be married to the same person for 50 years?   My friend of 66 years has been married that long but her circumstances are somewhat unconventional.  While she lives in the family home her husband lives in a wooden cabin in the woods that surround, the house.   The reason for this is not coventional either.  They see each other every day,  they eat meals together,  they have a joint bank account and neither wants a divorce.  So why do they have this arrangement?   why don't they just have separate bedrooms?  Well the reason is my friend is incredibly untidy while her husband prefers a certain amount of order and minimilism.  Did it really take 50 years to discover this?  I don't think so.  Had it been acceptable to live together 50 years ago then no doubt they would have discovered that they were incompatible.  Or would they?

I have been living out of a suitcase since January and I have two more weeks to go until I get home.  I have slept on blow up beds, 2foot 6inch wide beds, floors, trains and planes and occasionally a luxuriously large bed in a posh hotel.  I don't mind this way of life and am wondering what exactly are the advantages of keeping your clothes in a closet and all the 'stuff' that is in my house, not that I have much as I am a bit of a minimalist.  Bad news for burglars.  I am a nomad and enjoy it.  My children at various times, have suggested I live in a narrow boat, a caravan and a wooden lodge, none of which really fit the bill.  So in May I shall go home to France and see how long I can I stay before I am packing a rucksack again.

It is so beautiful up here. Yesterday I went to 9000feet where you can see across to Afghanistan,   Pakistan and Kashmir.  I could look across to the Kyber Pass where our grandfather was killed and presumably buried there.   This is yak country but it is the monkeys that rule with temples to the monkey god.  They are very aggressive though,  like the barbary apes in Gibraltar.  There are also many tibetans and nepalese in this region. Today i take the trains back to Delhi ready for my flight tomorrow.

After 2 tiring days I have reached the cool of Shimla in the foothills of the Hymalayas.  The scenery is stunning all the way up the long slow 'toy' train. It takes a minimum 5 to 6 hours.  Monkeys abound here and opening windows is not an option as they walk right in. The weather can change instantly which is probably why a man knocked on my hotel room door and handed me an hourly weather forecast.

I am in the pink city of Jaipur, which is maharaja territory  but the Amber fort impressed me the most. The days are hot 39 degrees but not uncomfortable.  i have stayed in several hotels now and they have all had the same lighting system. In my present room there are 15 light switches. I have sussed out that there is always a master switch but it takes half an hour to work out which one it is. Even  then it doesn't help when you wake up in the middle of the night and press every switch you can find in the dark. This morning I was woken up at 5 am by drums, very loud , very repetitive.  After 10 minutes I made a cup of tea. I am now eating fruit and curry for breakfast,  skipping lunch unless I am on the train where hot curry is brought to your seat, and curry for dinner. Occasionally I find Indian red wine which can be very palatable.

Internet has been hard to find the last couple of days and Atms that work seem to be non existent.  Twice I managed to put my pin in and the amount of rupees I wanted but no money appeared so I hope the transactions haven't gone through my bank. Yesterday I travelled by train to Sawal Madhopur, near the Ranthambore national park.  I had a good laugh with 3 guys who were travelling together and staying at the same hotel.  This morning I went on a safari landrover looking for tigers.  After 3 hours of bone crunching discomfort I had seen lots of deer, 2 peacocks, several monkeys and a wild boar. I have just spoken to someone who went this afternoon and yes, she saw tigers. 

Last evening there was a huge storm, lightning,  wind and torrential rain in Agra. This morning the devastation was clear. No power, 50 dead and hundreds of trees down. On the way to the taj mahal  I could see crushed cars, flooded streets  and so many trees.   Then out of all this destruction I arrived at the taj mahal. It doesn't matter how many pictures you see  they cannot compare to seeing this exquisite building rising up above you.  I have waited so long to see it and  it  is far better than I could have imagined. 

I took the train to Agra today. Having experienced the balancing act of hole in the floor toilets on a moving train I thought I would be ok even though you can end up with wet feet but I was  not prepared for the train doing an emergency stop while in the crouching position. The result?  Elegant it was not.  So food that was destined for passengers 'lunch ended up on the carriage floor.  For those who had already been served  I imagine they suffered  most. Having dispatched the cow that had wondered onto the line we went to the next station where a street trader was dispatched to bring food. I was given a carton of steaming vegetable curry and rice.  I am in a small 'green' hotel, no air conditioning,  just ceiling fans but in a lovely setting.  I have lost count of the number of people who want a selfie with me. Apparently they like grey hair. Of course I have to make sure their hands aren't dipping into my rucksack!

Here I am in a lovely hotel in Delhi  with a lovely view. But hang on a minute  sitting by the window I also have a lovely view of the bath, shower and toilet and if I sit on the loo I have a  lovely view outside. A glass wall separates the bedroom and the bathroom.  I am  glad I am not sharing with anyone. At least in a hotel room you have a toilet roll not the 2 sheets handed out in most public toilets.

French railway workers are striking 2 days in 5 for the next few months in protest against Macron's reforms.  To launch these strikes huge protests were organised in Paris but oh dear the strikers couldn't get there because the trains weren't running due to strike action.