Smiffy2

I said I would recount the story of my French neighbours to counterpoint Ian's tales of rampant randyism and festering feuds. We bought our place in 2000, and we have a house in a hamlet of 2! Our neighbour then was Marie-Louise and her son, Claude. Marie-Louise was old, and beaten down by a lifetime of farming. I remember her, at the age of 70+, rolling her sleeves up as she went up to the barn on the other side of our house to perform a difficult calving. Over a few short years she was claimed by arthritis, new hips and age. I went in for one of our customary 'petit-verres' a bit before she died, and she told me that she couldn't sleep for pain, that it was all terribly hard and she yearned for release... When she die the farm was worked by Claude - all dairy in those days, when ordinary farmers could make a living out of milk, before 'les grandes surfaces' pushed the price down to such an extent that there are half as many dairy farmers in Normandy now as there were in 2000. Claude was a lovely man, tall, lollopy and invariably cheerful - he even laughed when he told me how he has been standing on a pile of pallets when his foot slipped between the planks and he fell over the edge - only to be stopped by his ankle breaking! He was a devil with a chainsaw, never any safety gear, and I remember him working to cut down a willow tree (one of mine) laying on his stomach with his head inches from the blade. He had a sister, Elisabeth, and she has two sons, Florian and Gautier. We are pretty sure it was Florian, about fifteen years ago, who threw rocks through our windows. He showed up one day asking if we had any peat that he could use for planting something up. When I said I didn't think we had any he told me it was in one of our outhouses. The boy who tried to destroy a wasp nest by pouring boiling water on it. Elisabeth (who lived in the Ile de France) was always distant when we met her, unlike Claude who was the best neighbour we could have. Florian eventually came to live with Claude, sent from Paris because of 'some trouble'. He never seemed to do much, like school, but he did make heroic attempts to ride a motorbike whilst smoking a cigarette. Then we got a letter, in England, telling us that Claude had died. In strange circumstances. It seems that after a storm he had been trimming back an oak with some broken branches. Being Claude he was doing this standing in the bucket of his tractor, and possibly a couple of straw bales. He either fell and had a heart attack, or had a heart attack and fell. It was three days before he was found, and he was still alive, but brain dead. Three days. Whilst Florian was living with him. Elisabeth has taken over the farm, but is relinquishing the rented fields and selling the others. She has resigned from a good job in Paris (in a bank) to look after Florian in la France profonde. She has found him training and a college course but he has never lasted more than a week. Elisabeth is now much more friendly - we share cake and wine every week or so - but Florian is still a nightmare. "My cross" she calls him. The last time I spoke to him he was telling me how the allies used nuclear weapons on Normandy in WW2 and hw the Welsh are angry about Brexit because it means they will have to leave the Euro. Just say no, kids. He is also obsessed with kittens, but that's another story, which may not always turn out well for the kittens. I'll leave that for another day, the couscous is ready!

You look well on it.

This food thing. It's so place and time specific. Our milkman provided yogurt from about 1956 onwards, unsweetened, sharp and lovely. I had it several times a week. Because of my mother's Scandinavian/Grimsby heritage we ate raw fish. I took soused herring to school for lunch... In fact I still eat a lot of stuff raw, and nick trimmings off fish and steak when cooking. Best way to judge a steak is raw! Our veg came from the garden, so we had copious strawberries, walnuts and asparagus, as well as small potatoes and sometimes eggs. We had homemade ice cream once we got a fridge (1957) and I still remember watching my mother and grandmother plucking and drawing a couple of chickens, the feathers going into a bin between them and the unformed eggs being saved for cake. Times change.

Morning all. Late start after a pleasant night out with our English neighbours, today's agenda includes 'clearing out the outbuildings' and making couscous with meatballs. It may rain, in which case several bets (but not the meatballs) are off. Have a good day, everyone.

We used to eat raw fish (Scandinavian Heritage), yoghurt, fish fingers (my uncle made them in Grimsby) and so on. These things are very selective... Went back to Emmaüs today to look for more andirons. There weren't any so we bought a dining table. Oak. €80, €25 delivery. On Friday...

Morning all. I'm sort-of back. Actually I'm in la France profonde, and before anyone asks I've been eating whelks with abandon. I've been missing because the end of last year was very hard for me. I wasn't well and my son's marital problems were weighing very heavily, and I fell into a deep period of the black dog, the worst I can remember since I was ill and 'burned out' around 2000. I couldn't really communicate much, and didn't have anything to say anyway. Andy - I know where you are at the moment. But it does get better. I managed a rapprochement with my son, and we now have good relationships with both sides, although she is making life hard for him she is being considerate to us. The main casualty has been my bank balance, which has been destroyed. We are having to draw our horns in, and probably cash in an ISA for the next stage of the divorce. He has promised to pay us back, but I can't see how he will. We are even subbing his food shoop, because to have the girls stay with hyim he needs a 2 bedroom flat, and here that starts at £1000 a month. Enough of that. A month or so ago I felt the dog lift a little, and I was able to get on and do a few things in the garden and here in France. I've completely rearranged the kitchen and made a new tea'n toast area. Sounds a small thing but it's made a big difference. I even made a wall-mounted bottle opener for the patio... I'm sleeping much better (except for last night for some reason), but unfortunately Julie is in a bad way, and we think it might be fibromyalgia. My friend Andrew has it, and the symptoms are similar. Today we are off to Fougères to visit Emmaüs, a huge depôt vente run by ex-prisoners. If you've seen any of Dick Strawbridge's Chateau TV programmes you may remember it. We go quite often, and it's good for all sorts of things, although I mostly buy candlesticks and Julie buys little chintzy coffee cups which she makes into candle holders for the Christmas market. Last time I bought some andirons in the shape of Marechal Foch: The others are zouaves, probably pre-1914. I have cleaned them up and a job I have yet to do is cut off the back sections of the zouaves and treat them all to a coat of wax. This is the bottle opener: Just a bit of fun... Next job is making a wooden mantle for the living room fireplace. So in one sense the mojo is back. As to modelling - very little. But the idea of a Hornby Dublo 3-rail layout is appealing, and the 0-16.5 stuff is going ahead with a growing grey siding. So best wishes to all, especially Debs and Andy. Debs - I've told you about the 'mad dog' farm which homes retired sheepdogs. They now have a 'beware of the Collie' sign, which I'll try to get a picture of. Yesterday the Guardians of the Road were an old Labrador and a very sleepy cat. In a while I'll tell you about our French neighbours, not as sexy as Ian's but equally mad. Toodle pip.

I'm convinced that some people think any 0-6-0T is a 'Jinty' in the same way that any double-decker bus is a 'Routemaster'.

I thought some of our Collie enthusiasts might like this.

FTFY

Proper early riser this morning...

No, they're not supposed to give information to random callers...

You don't give out that sort of information to random callers, who might well be the tabloid press, antagonistic politicians or others. Real enquiries are sent, in writing, to the press office to pass on to the appropriate department. It's unlikely to be secret, but will be in a report somewhere. Or you could initiate a Freedom of Information request.

Morning. Sunny but chilly here in Normandy, too. Hoping for 23º later. Not much happening, away from the nasties in England. Just been varnishing a worktop - when I opened it I found that the varnish was old, old oil-based - a nice finish, but does it pong! and cleaning the brushes is a right chore. Not much on today, bringing the words 'Kindle' and 'Jardin' together until it's time for another coat of varnish. Tomorrow it's Emmaus. If you are watching the Dick Strawbridge personal publicity vehicle about the French chateau it's the place the English couple went to for knick-knacks and 'antiques'. It's a Catholic charity set up and run by ex-prisoners to give them employment and legal means of making money. Mostly tat, as these places tend to be, but we've bought some nice china and candlesticks there in the past. Oddly enough both Strawbridge and Dave Myers (the short annoying one from the Hairy Bikers) both have moved to 'our' bit of France. What is it with men with extravagant facial hair and north-west France? Have I mentioned the randy Stonechat? I'll tell you later. Have a good day, especially those in travail.

Forgot - this one is for Debs. Driving home yesterday we found a large herd of cows crossing the road - happens quite a lot here. We waited, and at the back we found the farmer and his dog - I think it's a crossbred Collie (all black) herding the cows, and then the dog tried to herd the car into the line heading for the milking shed! Much energy! There used to be a retired dog (an old Collie) there who laid by the road and sometimes, if he was feeling lively, used to chase the car. If not feeling lively he just looked at us disapprovingly. Later he got an assistant (a Labrador) who used to get up but not do much. The present dog seems much younger and more keen. And at one time there was a cat that used to lie in wait and then run off in the other direction. Not surprisingly we call it the Mad Dog farm...

Morning everyone. Bright and sunny here in la France profonde. We went to the mairie for the rubbish bags yesterday, but it was closed... Much planning and thinking going on here at the moment.

Morning all (just) and best wishes to Andy and his Ma - that was a nasty incident. Yesterday was a beautiful day, and we sat in the sun with our G&Ts, but today is (or has been) grey and damp. No rain though. Today we have to go to the Mairie to get the clear rubbish bags which are now obligatory, if we want our rubbish collected. Talking to our neighbour yesterday it seems that one has a 12-hour window for depositing the full bags at the end of the lane (What about foxes? >shrug<) or if the Gendarmes see it they will be cross, and that's generally not a good idea... There's also some issue about the boundaries of our land, not that anyone is messing about, but the official surveyor cocked it up. Today also involves checking in with English neighbours and taking Julie to buy sundries for her crafting. I'm just realising the things I didn't bring out for doing some Monty - now what's the French for 'jeweller's saw'? Fair winds, all.

Morning all from a very wet Normandy. We arrived yesterday in bright sunshine to a very cold and damp house - we haven’t been here since last October. Still not warm, and still being persecuted by the Goat, so today has been declared a duvet day. Andy - I used to be ATL school rep, if your school rep isn’t working for you get on to regional, and yes, keep a log of everything, and copies of emails and texts. Push them to give you value for your fees! Also remember that by regulation there must be a governors’ committee to adjudicate staff grievances, but if you go that route you need a strong paper trail. On the Monty front I’ve just bought myself a birthday present - a bench guillotine for sheet brass and plastic. Looking forward to hours of fun. Julie is currently planning for changes to the outbuildings - making a grotto/den for the grandkids. More to the point, we need to get the masons out to repoint them, as you can see daylight between some stones! And best wishes to all those in treatment. An iD - 48kg! Fantastic!

That's on my list of jobs as well. We're off to France for 3 weeks tomorrow - why do we have to hoover the stairs BEFORE we go?

Tony and Aditi, Julie and I are thinking of you today. We wish you all the best at this, the hardest of times.

Truly amazing, and with luck the start of a comeback.

Oh, Tony, you and Aditi have my most profound condolences and thoughts, and tears. There are no adequate words, but my thoughts and affection are with you.

Norm Abrams would be spinning in his check shirt, if he was dead. If I had to do it that way I'd put support blocks on the uprights to stop sagging of the cross pieces.

That doesn’t augur well.

I’ve just read of the death of Trevor Baylis, the inventor of the wind-up radio. I worked with him at one time - good bloke. When he first made some money he blew it on a red E-type. He liked it so much that when he made some more money he bought another one. Good old British eccentrics (though I think he was colonial).

OK, I give in, you win...