This my irregular diary of the goings-on in my life. Right now, my family and I are in the process of re-locating back to the UK. And that's about it really.

19 October 2011

Moving

Well.  That's it.  We're all packed up, the van has been and gone.  We leave this weekend.  Seems a bit strange to think that we'll be back in Blighty (hopefully in our new home) this time next week.  You'll be pleased to hear that the tax office have given us a good old send off in the form of a bill for almost 900€, which we have already paid to the social payments folk.  This bill arrived this morning, but all the relevant paperwork I could use as proof has been packed, so it'll have to wait.  I don't think it will be an easy one to deal with, but I should be used to it by now.  Best make sure we get a good phone package with cheap calls to France, otherwise I can see me running up huge bills trying to sort out continuing huge fuck-ups.

No computer for a while, so I'll sign-off for a bit (again!).  Will try to be more consistent when I'm back, after all, I'm probably going to have some time on my hands for while.....

16 October 2011

Breaking Barbie's legs

We had a little party yesterday for the girls, partly a leaving party and partly a birthday party for Georgia.  So I made a birthday cake for Georgia; she likes pink, so I made a pink doll cake like the yellow one I made for Isabella a couple of years ago (on here somewhere).  Last time I made it, as I recall, I managed to use one of those 'fake' Barbie dolls, whose legs come off easily, however, this time, I only had real barbies left as I had been sorting things out to pack and the fake ones didn't quite make it.  I tried to put Barbie in the cake whole, but she was too tall, so I had no choice but to pull her legs off.  I managed to get one off alright, but the other broke (the hip joint, to be precise).  Anyway, she managed to get through the whole 'cake-display' event, poor thing, always smiling through the pain.  But now I can't fix her.  I've packed the superglue and can only find uhu, but it hasn't worked.  Adrian says to tell the girls that it's a 'Limited Edition Heather Mills Barbie'.  Either that or 'Limited Edition Hip Replacement this is what happens if you don't drink your milk Barbie'.

Hopefully, here is a picture of the cake.  But I have problems with the photos on here so it could come out above the text.



Oh it worked!  Fancy that!

14 October 2011

Things we will miss

This evening's event on the way home from school:  A cow eating placenta.

I should explain:  On the way home at lunch, Georgia got excited because she saw a calf, so I stopped beside it and it's mother as they were right at the edge of the field, by the road.  Then the calf falteringly stood up.  That was when I saw part of the umbilical cord hanging from it's stomach.  Then I noticed the rest of it hanging out of the cow's arse.  So I explained to the girls that the calf had just been born and what-have-you.  They wanted to see it suckling (is that the right word?), but I thought they were getting a bit nervous with the car nearby (the cow and calf, not the girls), so we drove home.  Five hours later (yes, it's really that long before they come home again), we drove past the cow and calf again, calf was having a kip.  Cow was eating placenta.

A bit gross really, it wasn't doing very well, just seemed to keep chewing away at it and not actually eating it.  A bit like old biddies trying to eat meat, it just goes round and round in their mouths, they can't swallow it and they really should have been put on the pureed food diet a long time ago. 

But the point is, these are the opportunities that the girls won't get in the UK, well, not where we'll be living anyway.  They've been lucky enough to see all sorts of things out here in the countryside, so hopefully it's given them a good start anyway.

And I saw a deer on the way home yesterday, it stepped out into the road in front of the car.  I breaked and missed it, you'll be pleased to hear.  Well, we don't have time to butcher it and then there's the problem of getting it all back to the UK next week, and besides, I've sold the freezer.

10 October 2011

Small ads

Update.  Well, I've been adding to the lists on the previous post, I keep thinking of things for it.  Managed to sell the sofa anyway.  The small ads are very good on the whole, although occasionally you do get some idiots asking daft questions.  For instance, I currently have an ad on for a childs blow-up bed.  The latest e-mail I got was simply 'Does it deflate?'.  So I wrote back and said 'Of course it bloody well deflates.  I've said on the ad that the pump's included, what would be the point in that if it didn't deflate?'  Well, honestly.  Eventually they replied and said what they wanted to know was, did it have a small hole or tear and therefore deflate of its own accord during the night.......

03 October 2011

Back to Blighty

Well, I've been away for a while, so I suppose I ought to catch you up on things. Although most of you will know we are moving back to Blighty. Lots of reasons which I won't go into. Looking forward to it actually, which is not something I thought I'd ever say, but I went back for a day/two nights a couple of weeks ago and actually quite enjoyed it. Hubby says I sould do a 'relocating back to Blighty' blog now, but there's a real danger it would just end up being 'Tescos - wow! Sunday opening - wow! The choice in the shops - wow!' etc etc......

So, I've been having a think and made a few lists, first of all:

Things I won't miss:

The gaelic shoulder-shrug attitude to customer service
Dealing with the social security folk
Enormous bills
Arrogant middle-aged English folk
Weird parents of the friends of my eldest daughter
Appalling driving standards of the French
Unbelieveable amounts of paperwork for anything and everything
R*&@$%t (see below)
The new woman who works in our local post office.  Not sure what her name is in French, but I know that it translates in English into 'Jobsworth'.
French TV.  French radio.  French music.  French sense of humour.
French bars full of men drinking Pastis at 10am
Living in a freezing cold house with a knackered heating system
Having to get a fire going first thing in the morning with frozen fingers

Things I will miss:

The 'bonjour' and 'au revoir' whenever you go in or leave a shop/bar/post office/bank etc
The girls being bi-lingual

Things I am looking forward to:

Shops open on Sundays and Bank Holidays (sorry, but when you've been without for six years, it will make a pleasant change, and if you're one of those 'keep Sundays special' folk, then keep it special to yourself and don't go to the bloody shops then, nobody's forcing you.)
People and a bit of life around us
The opportunity to do so many different things
The choice in the shops
Better customer service (well better than a 'gaelic shoulder shrug' anyway and the ability to argue in English if it's not all that good)
Being able to communicate in English generally
Living in a house with mains drainage, mains gas, double glazing, kerbside rubbish collection, fully functioning heating system, and that doesn't get regular frozen pipes in winter and power cuts
Being able to walk to places
A chocamochacoffee in a pleasant little cafe

Things I am not looking forward:

People around me 24/7
Lack of a view from the house we will be renting
Not being able to take our cat with us
The girls losing their French

Anyway, been selling a few things on the small ads again. Yesterday I put the sofa on at a very good price for what it is. Within an hour I had someone on the phone, wanted to come and buy it and take it away that afternoon, but they couldn't pay by cash, because they had another big bill of 800€ to pay and didn't have the money in their account, so would I take a cheque? It would be ok if I waited four days until they would get paid. And if not, I could 'always give them a call and we could sort something out'. A couple of hours later someone else called about it, also wanted to come and buy it and take it away that afternoon, but they also didn't have enough money, so would I accept payment in installments? Later in the evening I received an e-mail offering me one third off the advertised price. Needless to say, it is not yet sold.

Also had fun at our local R*&@$%t garage recently. Had a problem with the car which had to be fixed before we sold it, so we took it into to R*&@$%t. They put it on their diagnostic machine (at a cost of 60€ the theiving bastards) and quoted us 2000€ for the cost of repairs, which would be a metal piece and then some other part. Booked it in for the repair and they offered us a courtesy car for for free, which we accepted. Turned up on the day for the repair and when taking the courtesy car, we were duly advised that it was 'without insurance'. We were told to go home (in the uninsured car) and call our own car insurance company and get them to swap the insurance from our own car to the courtesy car for the day. This, they assured us, was 'the done thing'. Drove home extremely pissed off and concerned. Called insurance company, unsurprisingly, they did not provide 'that type of cover'. Mightly pissed off now, we could have easily borrowed my mother's car instead had we been forwarned. So hubby drove the car straight back and I followed in my mother's car (I was a nervous wreck I might add), handed over keys, accepted the old 'gaelic shoulder shrug' in return and that was that for the morning. That afternoon we received a call to say that the part had not arrived (how did they not know this in the morning?) and they didn't know when it would, possibly sometime the next week, but who knows, there was apparently a problem at the manufacturers. It got more complicated and to cut a long story short, I went into meltdown and my folks ended up going back to R*&@$%t with hubby and my own dear mother 'kicked some butt'. R*&@$%t were insisting, amoungst other things, that the metal part was made of a 'special' metal and could not even be welded, it was a part that had to be replaced. In the end, nothing could be resolved with R*&@$%t, so they towed the car home. Dearest hubby then set to, trying to see if he could fix it. Turned out that the 'special metal' part that was broken was made of what we in English call 're-inforced rubber tubing'. So either our French is really crap or R*&@$%t are lying bastards. Hubby duly went off to car shop and bought the replacement piece for 6,50€. We then had to take it into another garage to go back on their diagnostic machine (cost: 30€, half the price of the theiving, lying bastards) to check all was well and re-set the car's computer. And that was that. It passed the MOT and a few days ago we sold it. (With regret I might add, it was a lovely car).