SCONEHENGE (second attempt!)

Well if the 17 people who viewed this post first time around are having a bit of déja vu it's because you are right.  I was in the process of editing a bit of it when we had a power cut and not only did I lose my editing but the next time I looked extra photos had appeared!

Back tracking.......on the eve of the summer solstice this year I had the idea for a sconehenge birthday party for my brother.  He was staying with us on holiday and his birthday fell on the right day.  

It was a fun afternoon, with plenty of dressing up and of course scones.  The rain held off apart for a little light drizzle which didn't deter the hardy druid folk from enjoying themselves!

Nick's scones were sensational.

My brother's shirt was glorious.

The tables were all set for afternoon tea.

There was plenty of dressing up.

Several druids turned up.

Some outfits were more radical than others.

There was an actual replica of Stonehenge in scones.

Plus one of a stone circle in Brittany made of madeleines.

There was no shortage of scones.

No shortage of floral headdresses either.

Everyone had a good time and lots of scones.

We might do it again next year!

SPOOKY SUNFLOWERS AND THE TALE OF A NEW WINDSCREEN

 

We are surrounded by huge fields of dead sunflowers.

The farmers were late planting the seeds due to the wet spring weather.  The flowers didn't develop to their usual magnificence due to the relatively poor late summer and now they are all dead and left in the fields.  The ground is so wet that apparently in many places it's unsafe to use the huge harvesting machines.  Here and there we see a field of blackened stalks where the farmer has managed to chop off the heads but mostly there are acres and acres of spooky looking dead sunflowers.  Tragic.

About six months ago we acquired a chip and a crack in the Peugeot windscreen, just in front of the driver's view.  We contacted our insurance company and they told us to take it to a branch of a repair company called Mondial.

On the Mondial website it said if the crack was in front of the driver it could not be repaired or filled, we would have to have a whole new windscreen and the nearest place we could get that done was at a branch in Tours.  Rats.  That would be a huge palaver involving driving there with two cars so that we could leave the other with them.  The only redeeming factor might be that we might be able to time it in order to have lunch in Tours.

Time went by and six months later we thought we really should do something about it.  A friend who speaks better French than us phoned the insurance company for us, the outcome being that we could get it done in the village and they would phone us back.  We received a text with a claim reference number.

Two weeks later we had heard nothing so we popped down to the garage in the village.  They were adamant that the hole could be filled but we could have a new windscreen if we wanted.  As the conversation evolved it seemed we were at the wrong garage.  A woman emerged from the office to say the place we needed was a farm  "out in the woods".

Off we went in search of a different garage, which was indeed in the woods.  We wobbled down an uneven track that ends up at a chateau called La Vienne and thought it couldn't possibly be there.  Looking behind us we spotted what looked like a farm.  We reversed precariously and sure enough, the track opened out in front of a garage business with a Mondial sign on the wall.

Hoorah! we thought.  The garage man was charming and helpful and booked us in for the next Thursday but said we must contact the insurance company to confirm payment.

Nick phoned the number given in the text from the insurance company the following Monday but there was a voicemail saying there was nobody there, to phone back on Wednesday.  On Wednesday (the day before the appointment for the work) there was another message to say phone back on Friday.

Nick spent over an hour trying to speak to someone at the insurance company who could give us some assurance that the arrangement was approved and got nowhere.  Eventually he phoned Mondial head office who said yes it was fine and good to go.

At every conversation we had pointed out that the car needed a new windscreen, not just a repair but guess what.......as we arrived with both cars (so we could leave the Peugeot behind) at 9.00 am at the garage in the woods a little Mondial van turned up.  A van not big enough to carry a new windscreen.

Sure enough, the delightful young man that sprang out of it to greet us came with his tube of glue to repair the crack.  An exchange of words resulted in him fishing out his little template to look at the crack from behind the steering wheel and he then agreed..........yes we did need a whole new windscreen.

He spent ages on the phone to Mondial and after a bit of verbal wrangling made a new arrangement for a new windscreen to be fitted one week later.....at home!  

Now you would think that would be the end of the story but no!

Two days before our appointment for a home visit by Mondial at 9.00 am on the Thursday we had a text to confirm it.  One day later we had another text confirming it.  We were having our morning tea early on Thursday when the phone rang at 8.30 to say they were on their way and would be with us at 10.00 am.  Thinking we had time to get breakfast before they arrived I put a pan of porridge on to cook and they immediately turned up just before 9.00am.

Thirty five minutes later the job was done and one hour later I drove the car to Loches for some shopping.  All's well that ends well but it took some getting there!

RUM WEATHER

We have certainly had some rum weather lately.

September and October have been very wet, making it difficult to get the autumn garden work done.

When it's wet we take Hugo along the cycle path for his walks as it's drier underfoot.

The soft ground due to the rain and the strong wind caused a tree to come down near Etableau.

Our spice tree didn't disappoint in its autumn colours, bringing life to dull days.

We have had some amazing sunsets on the better days.

We moved some outdoor chairs to a spot where we can catch the last few rays of sunshine in the evenings on good days.

Most evenings are now spent indoors with the fire lit.

We still get the odd occasion when we can sit on the "upper deck" to enjoy the view.

The view yesterday lunchtime was of a young male deer, with little antlers, running for its life across the fields.  A shot that sounded louder than usual alerted us, probably because the gun was pointing in our direction, and the creature leapt out of the woods at enormous speed and disappeared into another part of the forest about 1km away.

I wonder if they ever go back to where they came from.

 The heavy rain has done for the geraniums but there is still plenty of colour in the dahlias.

They have been a joy to behold this year.

FRENCH VILLAGE LIFE

 

We called at the PreHisto for a coffee the other morning.

It was too cold even for us to sit outside.

A new bar/restaurant has opened right next door, called La Cabane.

The back room does have elements of a garden shed about it.

It was pouring with rain outside but very cosy inside.

We arrived at twelve.  By twelve forty five it was more or less full.

The food was good.  It was our first visit and we will be going back.

IS IT TIME?

The time has come, the walrus said.  Or has it?

Summer has certainly been and gone, such as it was.  Our week in Finistère seemed to last longer than a week, more like the days when we came to France to stay for just one week or two, on holiday.  Generally, time flies by as we grapple with the complexities of life in France, getting everything in place in a language that we are not fluent in, although we do our best.  A friend said this morning that after five years of living in France they finally feel they have everything sorted, the health, the money, the French way of going about things in an official capacity.

Only yesterday we spent hours on a mission to get a damaged car windscreen replaced.  To be fair, much of what happened would have happened in the UK but the added complication of only understanding part of what people say makes it much more tortuous.  But we do our best.

I feel I have come to a crossroads with the blog and have decided that rather than let it go, or abandon it, I will do snapshot posts for a while, instead of long winded posts, which are usually playing catch up!

So I include some of the best pictures from our week in Finistère and will start afresh some time soon!  It was, after all, seven weeks since we were there!!

A WEEK IN FINISTÈRE

Finistère is a department of Brittany and a part of France that we had never previously explored.  We were hankering after a seaside break but finding a suitable gîte proved to be tricky as we had left it a bit late to look for one.  Our principal requirements were a decent sized enclosed garden for Hugo and privacy, or at least not having to share space with other holidaymakers.  We would not want a large and very bouncy dog to be a problem for other guests or vice versa!

We found a gîte not far from a little village called Guimaëc, which is just over 1km from the coast.

The day before we went we had intended to do our packing in the morning and take Yvonne to the cattery in the afternoon.  Instead, we ended up taking a delivery of six stères of logs before 9.00 am and spent all morning stacking them.  After lunch we coaxed Yvonne into her carrier using the little pot of tuna method.

Yvonne's usual cattery (called a "pension" in France) was fully booked but I found another one about the same distance from home.  She is not a good traveller and it was not great.  Her pen was very small and the access to the cat accommodation was via a courtyard surrounded by pens of barking dogs.  She was stressed and frightened but we left her there (we had no choice) thinking that the owner didn’t understand cats too well but at least she would be safe and fed.

A humorous display made from hay bales, announcing a wedding, spotted in a field near the gite.

We set off north on Saturday and the journey to Guimaëc was around six hours.  Hugo always travels well and after just one short break to stretch our legs we arrived around 5pm.  We have stayed in many gîtes over the years and some have been decidedly better than others.  This one was spotlessly clean, had a large enclosed garden, good kitchen equipment, endless hot water and very comfortable beds. It lacked a bit of charm and was short of a few minor things but it was fine.

It was a farmhouse built probably early in the twentieth century alongside the original and much older farm buildings.  The owner had inherited it from her grandfather and it hadn’t been a working farm for several decades.  

Whilst the old buildings were low and cramped, this house was roomy and lofty.  It felt more like a barn than a house but this might have a lot to do with the way it had been converted into a gîte.  It had three double bedrooms upstairs, plus a sofa bed downstairs in the cavernous living room, so was able to cater for a large family on holiday.  

With the formalities over, we drove down to the nearby cove to see the sea, returned to the gîte and cooked a pasta dinner, unpacked and settled in.  In my unpacking I discovered that I had entirely forgotten to bring (amongst other things) any knickers, or a hairbrush.  The first job the next day would have to be some shopping!

GOING, GOING, GONE!

 The view at the back of the house has improved no end!

Yesterday morning Enedis vans turned up in convoy and one by one removed the long since redundant pylons.  The electricity supply was placed underground two years ago.

The first job was the removal of all dangling wires then the digging of the concrete pylons out of the ground.  A man on a tower tied something round each pylon about half way up and it was lifted up in the air then lowered carefully to the ground.  Clever stuff.

It was a nervous moment when they set about the one immediately behind the house as it would definitely have taken out the landing and kitchen if it had fallen the wrong way. But these guys knew what they were doing and it was safely on the ground in minutes, stripped of its glass and metal crown and taken away to join the others now piled up at the side of the road.

Maybe now our farmer will finish the work on the field.  We can hope!

The other thing that happened yesterday is that I had my MRI scan on my head.  I was dreading it but as always, although not exactly pleasant, it was not as bad as I expected.  The amazing thing is that I left the clinic with a CD of more than a hundred scan images and three hours later the results arrived by email, being sent to my GP at the same time.  It makes an interesting contrast with the experience of a friend who had an MRI scan in the UK in July and has been told he will have to wait 10-12 weeks for the results.

It's baffling why there is such a difference.  In France there was clearly somebody assessing the images immediately after the scan was done and produced a fairly comprehensive report, presumably filling in a pro forma document online and sending it by email to both patient and GP.  Why on earth can that not be done in the UK in these days of technology?  I'm sure somebody out there knows why but I would guess that the images are sent to someone who looks at them and sends the report on in just the same way.  Is it because there are not enough trained people to assess them and there is a huge backlog?

The good news is that the scan revealed nothing of significance.  Which is good news especially when added to the blood test results which all came back normal too.  The bad news is that so far nothing has been found yet to explain the weird situation with my ears - the tinnitus, the snuffly cold and the headaches I've been having for the last seven months.  I have however managed to secure an appointment with a different ENT specialist one month earlier - in October.  The previous appointment should have been in July but it was cancelled by the clinic at two days' notice and I had to go to the back of the queue for another one.   The earliest available with that person was late November.  Still, at least when I do eventually see someone I will be armed with all significant tests done.

In other news, we have had a busy week.  On Monday morning Nick went to the GP for his prescription review and in the afternoon he drove me to Chatellerault to collect my Harley from the garage complete with a service and a CT (MOT) good for three years.  On Tuesday afternoon Nick got a haircut then I drove him to Chatellerault to collect his Harley with the same and it's good to see them both back in the barn, gleamingly legal and fettled for riding.  On Wednesday morning at 7.15 the nurse arrived at the house to take blood samples for Nick's annual review and we met up with friends for a pizza in the evening.  On Thursday (yesterday) I got my MRI scan and by the time we got home the last few pylons were being removed.  This morning (Friday) we had six stères of logs delivered  at 8.30 and we had stacked all of them in the wood shed by lunchtime.  (A stère is roughly a cubic metre and six of them makes a big pile of logs!)  It was jolly hard work but we were glad for the light drizzle and to get it done before the sun came out!

Last but not least, as I write this Yvonne is corralled in the bedroom because we are going on holiday tomorrow.  We shall use the dish of tuna method to trick her into the cage but she clearly has already sussed that something's afoot.  Then she will be trying out a new cattery.  The one we usually use was fully booked so it's fingers crossed that she will be ok with the new one.  Fingers are however already crossed that we can actually get her into her cage!

Then, tomorrow morning, Nick, Hugo and I are off to the seaside.  We have booked a gite near the north coast of France in a region called Finistère.  We have never explored that area before but it looks beautiful.  It will be the first real holiday we have had since our wet week in Norfolk in May 2021!