Skip to main content

Tempers frayed

I was woken this morning at 5.30am by a loud knocking on the front door followed by the door bell.  I knew who it was because I recognised the shrill voice talking to herself.  I went downstairs and opened the door to my neighbour, Marie Jo.  She was irate; she frequently is but usually with Jean Pierre across the street, not with me.  'Have you taken the wrong bin?' she demanded, in French of course.  Standing there in my dressing gown I pleaded innocent.  'I heard them empty them about half an hour ago,' I said trying to  be helpful.   'Come with me,' she ordered.  If she had been dressed in a police uniform I would have followed but I draw the line at going out in the street in my dressing gown to look at bins, although many French people do, even to the shop.  I ran upstairs and pulled on jeans and t shirt and followed Marie Jo to  the corner of the street.   I stood staring at the three bins and I couldn't deny that hers was missing.  It was barely dawn but I peered along the road.  'Perhaps they have put it back along there,' I suggested.  'I have checked them,' she said testily.  Why wouldn't she have?   Marie Jo gets up about 4 am.  There was little I could do but take my bin back to my house.   She followed me of course, going on about the world and all its woes.

It was about ten minutes later that I was in the bathroom upstairs when I noticed Marie Jo's bin in Jean Pierre's yard.  Marie Jo was washing her garage doors.  Don't we all before six o'clock in the morning?  I called out to her and told her.  What a tirade.  Standing in the middle of the road she said Jean Pierre was a menace.  He had broken her fence three times and she was so angry with him she had demanded he pay her etc. etc.  Now Jean Pierre is annoying.  After all it was he who unplugged my freezers while I was away for 2 months, with no explanation or excuse whatsoever.   After pretending to listen for about 15 minutes Marie Jo finally ran out of steam.   She marched over to Jean Pierre's bin and pulled it in front of his gate.  I can't wait to see and hear what Jean Pierre is in for when he appears.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Playing by ear

My father could play the piano.  Not an unusual skill but he was deaf.  He lost his  hearing fighting in the army in India in the 30s so he was an adult when he lost it and therefore remembered tunes, even though he couldn't hear him.  However he didn't have the skill to learn anything new so  either you liked the old music or you didn't.  He used to say that he played by ear and then would roar with laughter.  He would have struggled in many ways with modern living but most of all during the pandemic, he would have lost his ability to communicate as he always lip read.  There must be thousands of people like him today who still rely on reading lips to understand,  in fact all of us do it to some extent, so please be patient if someone is struggling to communicate while you are wearing a mask. I went to the supermarket today and at the check out, the cashier asked me to move the trolley into a particular position.  As I manoeuvred it ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Mondays

 Last Monday my son and daughter in law were due to catch the 8.15am ferry from Portsmouth to Caen.  It was 6.45am when I stepped out of the shower and heard my phone  going.  I snatched it up.  It was a video  call.  'Mum, we have big problems here,'  and before I could speak he thrust the phone into the hands of a Brittany ferries' staff member and said, 'Talk  to my mum.'  Barely conscious of my wet, tangled hair and trying to cover myself up with a  towel which thought gravity was fun, I asked what the problem was.  Apparently they had the wrong vaccination certificates and were being refused passage.  I asked what I could do and she said they could go and get a test and take a later ferry.  'Where is the nearest test centre in Portsmouth?'  I asked.  'There isn't one,' she replied, 'there  is one in Southampton, or Havant.'  What!  No test centre in Portsmouth?  They both have learni...
1 comment
Read more

Equality

 I don't want to hear another person  say that women should be equal to men.  There is no 'should' about it, women ARE equal to men but they are not treated equally.  It has never occurred to me that I am  not equal to any man.  Am I treated equally?  Sometimes yes, sometimes no.  It requires a step change in the way women think of themselves as being equal before we can hope for attitudes, legislation, economics to  follow and that is my rant for the day. Ever since I have lived in France I have noticed a stark difference between the French and the British sense of humour.  The dry, irreverent humour of the British is completely wasted on the French, and the Dutch and the Americans sometimes for that matter.  Clearly the British humour is unique.  Yesterday I gave an article to a French friend to read.  It was a humorous piece, self deprecating about a woman suffering an attack by an insect on her face with hideous result...
Post a Comment
Read more