Put it in perspective

Put it in perspective

It’s been three weeks since my last entry and I have to say that having our little garden house has made a world of difference to our quality of living standards.

Who would think that living in a shed could be so satisfying? If you had sat me down a year ago and told me that I would be nothing short of ecstatic to have a shed to live in during the daytime I would probably have told you that you are mad!! Or sworn!! Or probably both to be honest.

Indeed, I am sure that there are people who are amongst our group of family, friends and acquaintances, both this side and the other side of the English Channel, who must think that we are a bit strange for being so pleased. And there have been a few quizzical looks, and some slightly sarcastic sounding comments about shed parties, but we have just ignored that and been content in our happy little bubble!

Of course, it is all down to perspective isn’t it?

When you are living in a lovely house somewhere, and someone says to you “here you are – a 17m² shed – put some furniture in it and away you go” well, I suppose that idea isn’t very appealing really. But when you have been living in a cramped, increasingly untidier motor home – suddenly the prospect of doubling your living space overnight is a very exciting prospect indeed!! And as such we have been treating our new space just like home – making it a cosy little space, adding some little touches – putting proper spot lights up, buying a bed settee, and most important of all – creating a Gin Den!!

Now, I’m a bit of a light weight where it comes to drinking alcohol as I don’t drink regularly or often (which yes I know is strange in France) so when I do it tends to go straight to my head. Especially with the large measures which are often poured by friends (my mind is now thinking back to the time when Bernard poured me a G&T which I am convinced was not Gin at all – probably rocket fuel – and was at the very least a quadruple measure – and hey ho!! I was pissed before 4.30pm in the afternoon).

But I digress from the Gin Den……

So, I am partial to a nice G&T and like the boutique gins that are widely available in the UK but no so much in France – so I have been collecting bottles – but not using them up – and when I finally got around to putting all the gin bottles in one place – I counted up no fewer than 13 bottles of different brands of Gin!! I just need an excuse for a party now to get some help in drinking them. gin den

Which leads to a dilemma – we now have a little space in which to entertain – which is exciting – but of course we don’t really have toilet facilities for guests. Back in the Autumn we did attempt to erect a toilet tent for when we had a large gathering – but reports back stated it was not a particularly pleasant experience. So, we are mulling this one over as to how we can overcome this – as being a sociable butterfly I really do want to start offering some return invitations to all the people who have been so kind and generous in inviting us over for coffees, meals, over night stays, shower use, washing machine use and so on.

Anyone who has ever been in a caravan or motor home will instantly understand why these toilet facilities are not suitable to offer up for guests. But, for those of you who are not sure…I might expand on this in more detail one day – but for now, please just know that what goes in has to be emptied out by my dear husband. And as much as he loves all our friends – he doesn’t want to know what you had for dinner last night…if you catch my drift. So, if anyone has any ideas for installing a civilised toilet system as an en-suite to a garden room, but without a sewerage system in place – answers on a post card please.

On the house planning side of things not much has happened of late – we are still waiting for some reports to come back before we can submit the house plans. We have had some site plans sent over for us to review but we were not happy with the perspective that the position of the house gave us. So, we’ve had a bit of too-ing and fro-ing between us and the architect. From his perspective he needs to get our house in the plot with the best orientation to utilise the solar power and also to be able to turn cars around without the need to reverse (apparently that’s a French thing) but from our perspective we (especially me) need to satisfy ourselves that we will get the view that we want from our bed – without cricking our neck!! So, we have been out on the land – looking this way and that way – gauging the necessary angle to get the right perspective!! Hopefully we will get there soon, in the grand scheme of things it is better to spend a bit of extra time to get the right result. .

As Duffy says “It’s been a long and uphill journey…getting to where I am today…..it’s been real tough and I’m still learning, that working hard’s the only way ….Put it in Perspective”

Click here to play Put it in Perspective

We have both been busy, me with painting the garden room with wood treatment as we are very keen to get the wood protected before the weather changes for the better – as it is in a very sunny spot so would not take long to get sun damaged if we don’t treat it – so that’s a must for finishing soon.

Martin has had the interesting task of starting to clear out the ruin in preparation for our fur family to get bigger. We are hoping to adopt a couple of barn cats which will be semi-wild and can live in the sheltered part of the ruin. But first, there is about 100 years’ worth of rubbish to remove – and that’s not just the load of old stuff my dad and step-mum put in there – there is disintegrated render which is just powder, rotten tree trunks, mulchy leaves, tiles, stones, bricks…. you name it – we have it. Oh, and cobwebs that are straight out of Arachnophobia III……. shudder! pile of rubble in ruin

It has been all I can bear to stand gingerly by the door and watch poor Martin shovel up spade after spade of shit into a wheelbarrow and then go through the painstaking task of sorting it out into piles of tiles, stones and then rubbish. wheelbarrow

We are keeping the stones as we hope to use them in the dry-stone walling around the edge of the raised terrace of our house, and we think the tiles might make a nice mosaic path somewhere – not sure where yet – but it will definitely need to be a mosaic as the majority of them are broken.

It would appear that dad placed old cupboards on top of the really old rubble before putting their carefully wrapped bundles of belongings on top of that, so the stuff underneath is really, really old. Martin became quite preoccupied with the question “I wonder where the owner’s poop is” as he was shovelling the stuff up. There’s no sign of a bathroom anywhere – but we think we may have sussed out where the original cooking area might have been. Martin also discovered hanging from a beam a tiny, very old key! We have no idea what it’s for – it’s not either of the doors.

Old key

It’s all very exciting as it unfolds, but also very poignant think that my dad’s dreams ended here in this ruin. At some point in time they packaged up their belongings to store here – knowing he was very ill, but at that time not realising they would NEVER return here to complete their dreams. There are really well packaged and labelled up parcels of stuff – which as of yet I have not been in the right frame of mind to even start unpeeling to reveal the contents – but that will come – soon, I think. But there are also piles and piles of damaged items – bags that have begun to decompose once exposed to the sunlight and boxes crushed under the weight of the floor that collapsed in when at some point a huge tree trunk fell straight through the roof!!tree through ruin roof

 

So much stuff damaged – and to think that this was once their life.

The saddest image for me was the sight of dad’s old brown working shoes peeking through a damaged black bin bag.shoe

His shoes that he would have packed away – hoping to return soon to pick up where he left off. And that breaks my heart in some ways, but equally I know that Martin and I would not be living our life here in this way if his dream had not come to an end. So I suppose, again, it all depends on which perspective you look at this from – is it the sad tragedy – or is it the amazing opportunity!!

I know which perspective I prefer to look from.

 

 

Deux Petite Canards

 

Deux petite canards

It’s been another busy week in this 24/7 city that never sleeps ha ha!! Who would have thought that life in a sleepy little village in rural South West France could offer so much in the way of entertainment during the winter months?

I touched on the Birthday Drinks Bar Crawl in my last blog mentioning that we had been out until the unearthly hour of 2am drinking, and that I had a hangover the next day. To be honest I thought that would probably be my last night out this side of Christmas.

But no!! Or should I say “mais non”? This week has seen lots of adventures and late nights. Firstly, we went to celebrate Carol’s birthday at Carole and Bernard’s house on Monday evening where they made us a lovely vegetarian curry, and lots of gin and tonic and red wine was drunk. That was a lovely evening – and very good to see Bernard looking so well after his recent spell in hospital.

Then Tuesday evening we went to play pool – which wasn’t a late night as such, nor a drunken one as by then I had decided to make a concerted start to my December “Pre-tox” in preparation for January’s “De-tox” (for me this means eating no meat (easy as I am a veggie), no wheat, no dairy, and no processed food, and no alcohol for the whole of January. In December I plan to do a “light” version of this which means following the plan for any day which is not a special occasion – so as to avoid it getting in the way of the party season. Anyway, my “boisson de choix” on Tuesday was “Thé Vert Menthe”. I played one game with Peter which was not my finest hour, but then when my second game came around with a bit of coaching from my trainer “Mr Traynor” I managed to surprise myself and everyone else in the back room of “Café de la Poste” by getting a few balls down in one go!! It was my closest game ever…well at least in this decade (I used to play quite well for a girl in my misspent youth). I got down to 1 ball but I still lost!! Peter won 10 games in a row that night – he was on fire!! Sharon playing pool

On Wednesday I decided that now my knee is feeling much better it is about time I started to join Martin on the evening dog walks down to the village. In our former life in Chandlers Ford we used to walk each evening in December after dinner and count how many houses had their Christmas Lights on. Although the houses with lights on are few and far between, the village in itself has some really awesome lights – which we think must be funded and organised by the commune, and are really quite lovely to see. Starting at the end by the Rugby Club bar there are lights which are sort of in the shape of a tree but not quite tree shape – which I have nicknamed Christmas Pile – as it’s reminiscent of a pile – although a pile of what I do not know. Christmas Pile

We can actually see Christmas Pile from our small deck outside the motorhome up on the land and it is very reassuring and comforting to see how close we actually are to civilisation now that the Winter is drawing in.

Then as you walk through the high street there are lights on the Halle, and over the arches of the Hotel du Commerce, in the windows of most, if not all of the businesses as you walk down towards the end. Christmas Lights collage

It all finishes up at the Mairie which has a rather spectacular Christmas Rocket and a Blue Tree. I love it!! The whole walk takes us about 45 minutes if we stretch it out and pause to look at any new lights each evening. It’s great entertainment for us – they say that the best things in life are free and it certainly gives us some fun to look at them. Christmas Rocket and Blue Tree

During this walk we passed the hall where the choir meet – and yes, I did say that maybe we would go back, and then Martin said he would go back even if I didn’t, but actually as we listened to them practicing inside and it was the same “O Salutarius” as before we realised that the choir probably is not for us!! Never mind – we gave it a try but it was not to be!

Thursday heralded the arrival of the replacement doors for the garden house at last!! This means that we can finally crack on and get the raised deck for this, and then the actual garden house erected. And not a moment too soon!! As always, a week or so away does us good but then when we return to this life in the motorhome it doesn’t take long before we feel the strain placed on us through life inside a 21m² home. Two large wet and muddy dogs contribute to a, let’s say “difficult” situation, and tempers sometimes get a little fraught!! Occasionally, an ill-timed comment can lead to a furious exchange of words. For example, Martin discovered that to say the words “why didn’t you bring that in before you started cooking” to an extremely stressed woman who was attempting to cook up a lovely, healthy, nutritionally balanced meal from scratch, with fresh vegetables in approximately 12 inches in total of food preparation space – was not the best thing to say!! He was reminded in no un-certain terms that he would travel far and wide to discover another woman prepared to live in these conditions AND deliver 3 meals from scratch a day and that if he preferred to live in a yurt and eat out of tins he was welcome to try that out…..or something similar…there may have been a few extra words…I can’t quite remember!! Anyway, we won’t dwell on that and are friends again, and he has been working hard on getting the deck done since. This is what we are hoping it will look like when complete, and hopefully this will bring us some reprieve in the way of extra space (and dare I say it the chance to not be in the same room as each other all the time). Garden house

Friday was “cinema date night” for us. We went to watch French film Grande Bain in the village. It’s amusing to say the least that back in the UK we were spoilt with the choice of no fewer than 10 films which each ran a few times a day for many weeks – yet we rarely went to the cinema. Yet here in VduP we get excited when it comes around – the monthly film!! In French, no English sub-titles – just our own imaginations to work out what is going on. This one was quite easy – very similar to The Full Monty but involving a group of fairly lost, middle aged French men who formed a synchronised swimming team! It was very funny and definitely had some “laugh out loud” moments in spite of the language difficulties. And in any case, the cinema is warm and dry, and has comfy seats and enough space to stretch our legs out comfortably!!

And then to conclude our very full week of entertainment, whilst strolling around the village on Saturday morning after popping down to see what all the fuss was about for the Telethon (a fundraising event) and seeing the Pompiers doing a charity car wash and having a guided tour round a fire engine, Fire Engine we bumped in to Beatrice and Bruno who invited us to the Bingo that evening. Now, during the Bar Crawl when I was, let’s say a little tipsy, I had a conversation with Beatrice about the possibility of becoming her Bingo caller at the campsite next season…so this seemed the perfect opportunity to find out more about French Bingo. So, we said we would love to go!!

Beatrice said doors open at 7pm but Bingo starts at 9pm, so we arranged to meet them there about 8pm. We figured that if it started at 9pm we would be finished by 1100. We got settled down, had a cup of tea and a crepe, and a chat with Beatrice and Bruno whilst we waited. The French system involves buying Bingo cards as it does in the UK, but instead of marking the numbers with a pen you re-use your card – and cover the numbers with counters. The regular Bingo goers all have a fancy magnetic counter holder, but we had to borrow some counters from Beatrice and Bruno from their campsite game.Counter holder

Like the UK though the players often have a lucky charm to touch to bring them luck. There was a lady at another table with a little Buddha, and the French lady next to me had a little duck. I told Beatrice that in the UK I might have had a lucky pen, but as we didn’t need pens that would not be the case. I quietly wondered if now might be the time to consider my knickers to be “lucky pants” but once I found out what some of the prizes would be, I changed my mind and decided that tonight it would be the taking part that would be important and not the winning!!

Just before 9pm the very lovely Vicky announced the Bingo would soon start and the balls were placed into the dispenser. All went quiet…eyes down…. you could hear a pin drop. The numbers were announced one at a time …in French of course!! Beatrice and I soon worked out a system that would not only help me improve my understanding of French numbers, but would also ensure that I did not miss any. I listened to the number…attempted to work out what it was, clarify with Beatrice and then she would place her counter after I placed mine. So, each time a number was called I would say, quietly…what I thought was the number in English. I hoped I was not distracting the French lady next to me but she didn’t seem to be annoyed. We had a lot of giggles during the games, and I discovered that I have some serious mental blocks with certain numbers – including 84 – which is quatre-vingt-quatre – I was convinced that this was 88 each time – which raised a laugh and Bruno’s eyebrows!! Both Martin and I found the way that Vicky said the number ten – Dix, Cinq et Cinq (10, 5 and 5) to be hilarious and couldn’t really understand why, until Beatrice explained that Dix sounds a lot like Six (6) and then we really cracked up laughing when Vicky announced Six, Trois et Trois (6, 3 and 3). But, on a serious note, my improvement from the first game to the last game was about 200%. The French lady next to me actually commented to Beatrice about how well I had improved from the start to the finish. It was a great way to get my head around the number system, which I have to say is a little weird. I mean 1 to 10 makes perfect sense, 11 to 19 is reasonable, 20 to 69 is very straight forward, but then… 70 is 60,10, 60,11, etc. And then it gets really weird – 80 is 4, 20…how weird is that? Then 90 is 4, 20, 10. Martin made this observation to Bruno who smiled, raised his eyebrows and then laughed and said “yeah… Five Ty – right”. We all laughed – there are flaws in both languages.

There were so many games!! We started at 9pm and had a 15-minute break about 1030pm, at this point I thought the Bingo had finished and we then moved on to the Basket (tombola) but no, there were even more games of Bingo following on from this. I will say this for the French system – you certainly get your money’s worth. We paid €5 for 6 cards each and played these over and over again – the reusable cards are a great idea!!

So, the aforementioned prizes. Unlike the UK which often has cash prizes, in France the prizes are food, wine, or objects. In this case…. for many of the games the prize was either “Foie Gras” or Ducks. Not just any old duck – proper, legs akimbo, little feet poking out of its wrapper – ready to cook duck. So, this found me switching between a silent mantra of “oooh chocolate – let me win” to “please, no, not the duck”.

Martin actually had a “sweat on” for a line. A “sweat on” is where you are down to one number. He was waiting for the number 22 which as any English person will know is “two little ducks”. Ironically, the prize for this round was indeed “deux petite canards” which thankfully Martin did not win.

Later, as we were leaving, happy and laughing at 1230AM, we saw the “canards” leaving the building in a most unceremonious way over the shoulders of Laurent who was carrying them out for the lady who won them.

Early night for us tonight I think!!

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. 

Ghosts and ghouls, three legged beasties and things that go bump in the night

Ghosts and ghouls, and three-legged beasties, and things that go bump in the night

There’s spooky stuff going on around here this week. Squash’s of all shapes and sizes are appearing everywhere Squash on chair and despite me always thinking the French didn’t really celebrate Halloween much there are definitely creepy things lurking in the shadows.

Even in the Boulangerie window there is a sweet little display of carved pumpkins Cute pumpkin display although this was not as sinister as the display in our favourite vegetarian restaurant in Monpazier – who knows what you can eat at the Blood Café sign but I doubt very much it was vegetarian.Blood Cafe Halloween is definitely not as big in France as in the UK or the states, but you can find trick and treat sweets in the shops. But….we did not actually see any trick or treating children on the evening itself so just as well that we didn’t stock up on sweets.

Halloween falls right in the middle of La Toussaint which is widely celebrated in France and is actually a public holiday! Yes, another day with the shops shut – but we are getting used to it. La Toussaint is celebrated on 1st November – it is Two Saints Day – a Christian celebration which remembers the dead. Traditionally chrysanthemums are taken to cemeteries to place on graves of loved ones, and these flowers are only associated with death in France – so not the best choice to take around to a neighbour!! Which luckily I didn’t but I did wonder why there were so many in the shops.Chrysanthemums

So, you can see why Halloween has not been too popular in France – for many people it seems as if it is overshadowing long standing traditions. And the French definitely do not like their traditions coming under threat – which is fair enough!!

Another tradition is of course the hunting season – or the Chasse as it is known. This is more of an institution than tradition and very much part of life in rural France. It’s a dilemma for me, as on the one hand I can see that it is very much part of French life. Also the wild boar (Sanglier) which are hunted would otherwise over-run the countryside. But on the other hand, I just hate anything to do with violence towards any living creature. So, it is fair to say that it is a part of life in France that I do my best to avoid. I’m actually really quite scared to go out walking in the country lanes – so I have taken to wearing neon orange walking top, socks and cap in the hope that if there are any hunters out on the prowl they will see me before they shoot!! Neon Orange Gear 2

This week we did actually see some hunters whilst out driving – two of them with one dog – and as we drove past I urged Martin to slow down “don’t hit the dog” then we saw a wild boar run across the road! Then it was “slow down there might be another” and quickly followed by “shit go faster they might be following with guns”. It’s all a bit too much for my nerves. Then I felt really sad for the Wild Boar and got a bit tearful. Then told myself “C’est la vie”. But I still wish it wasn’t. It’s not always easy being vegetarian and very sensitive in France, but “Je suis comme ca” – that’s the way I am. Wild Boar

 

We have seen lots of different wildlife over the last few weeks as well as that wild boar. Dead snakeWe saw a dead snake – well it might have been a snake skin – but definitely dead (I know that for sure as Lillie decided to roll in it – disgusting little dog that she is).

We also saw a fire salamander who has decided to make its home in our water supply box. Fire Salamander

Maybe it’s because of being spooked by Halloween and Toussaints, or maybe I’m just a bit jumpy because of the Chasse – but I’m also seeing things that are not actually there – for example this giant frog sitting on the edge of road suddenly appeared,Giant frog 2 And I’m certain that this Troll has been following me home from my walks.TrollAnd the other night I heard some banging outside the motor home but luckily when I looked out it was just Martin going “bump in the night”. Martin going bump in the night

And then finally….our second Bar Crawl took place this weekend. Great fun was had by all, but look at us!! You would not want to bump into us down a dark alley would you!! Bar Crawl

 

©Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land, 2018 

Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Sharon Rees-Williams – wordpress.com/thislittlepieceof.land with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.