See Pam? Yes please.

A couple of weeks ago we had some pretty serious confusion. We received, from CPAM (Caisse Primaire d'Assurance Maladie - the body that administers the payments part of the state health service), a number of pieces of paper saying that we had been accepted into the system, together with an open-ended attestation covering both of us. The attestation was effective from 14th April and stated that all previous attestations should be destroyed. There were also two letters from URSSAF (Union de recouvrement des cotisations de sécurité sociale et d'allocations familiales), to whom we make the payments for the state health system. The first of these said that they had been told we are now in the system and we should shortly receive a request for payment. The second effectively said that when they ask us for money, we should pay up without delay. We then received, with no covering letter, another attestation bearing just my name. This attestation was effective from 15th April and stated that all previous attestations should be destroyed.

The attestations based on our E106 forms ran out on 5th January and our cover since then has been by private insurance which doesn't cover chronic disorders like blood pressure, but which does have a hefty excess. I believe that our state cover is effective from the date of our application in mid March. We couldn't do it any sooner as there were documents that were needed for the application that were not in our possession until then. Nonetheless, we had over 350 € of medical expenses incurred since making our application, so we travelled down to Riom to see what could be achieved.

It was a gorgeous day when we went down - sunny, little or no wind and temperature around 26°C. We took the MX5 with the hood down.

I have recently learned that the Sun God is a vengeful God, repaying years of faithful devotion by visiting upon His worshippers a plague of biblical proportions.

I wore a hat.

The lady at CPAM was very good and very nice. She accepted our submissions and, when asked, checked on the status of our attestation and confirmed that Clare is fully covered and I should ignore the one with only my name on it. Interestingly, when she keyed in my social security number, she wrote another long number on her pad, which she proceeded to key in before giving me the information I needed.

Buoyed by the confidence that can only come from a successful interview with a government functionary, I was emboldened to ask if she could give me any idea how long it would be before our Cartes Vitales arrive.

She said not.

She asked if we had received letters asking us for photographs.

I said not. Funnily enough, they arrived on Friday, but I can't do anything about it for a week or two, as I don't want to walk around forever with a card bearing a photograph of me with a great wodge of dressing instead of a right ear!

You know that face made by plumbers, builders and motor mechanics when you ask how long something will take or how much it will cost? The one with a sharp drawing of breath through pursed lips?

She did that.

She said that the average time for issue of Cartes Vitales is about five months.

Five months!

Never mind. I don't mind too much paying up front, if I know that I can get the money back. It becomes a cash flow thing rather than a liquidity thing. Having said that, the clinic where I had the operation didn't ask for cash up front; they just wanted my social security number (from the attestation) and details of my top up cover. So far, I have no idea how much the operation cost.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (as the saying goes) our feathered friends are making good use of the facilities.

A couple of days ago I had occasion to put something into the old bread oven room for temporary storage. Leaning against one of the walls are a couple of pieces of wood that we had recovered from an old bed frame we broke up a couple of weeks ago. Within a very short period, they have been pressed into use as the base for a Black Redstart's nest.
Meanwhile, in the dim recesses of the room we use as a store for gardening tools and where, you will recall, an old disused swallows' nest has been upgraded and converted by a pair of wrens, things are hotting up as the wrens spend more time in there. As with the Redstarts' nest, there is no sign of eggs yet, but it is in use, and we often see a wren arriving or leaving. The nest is quite obviously being maintained and occupied.
The swallows are very active in the left hand room. We don't enter there at this time of the year, although I doubt they would worry too much if we did. The wren is very seldom disturbed by our entering 'her' room for fetching and returning tools, and I think the redstart is probably quite secure about her safety.
For those unfamiliar with the layout, the two rooms used by the swallows and wrens are shown here. The swallows dart in from the right and into the left-hand room, the wren preferring to stop on the sawing horse before entering her room. Off the nest, the wren's favourite perch seems to be in the young ash tree growing on the edge of the pond. Above these rooms is the garage where I keep my MX5. Its comings and goings don't seem to bother either of the pairs of birds in the slightest.

Two bits of news on Saturday:

1. Another attestation arrived from CPAM. This one has just my name on it, but has a permanent Social Security number. This one begins with '1' indictating a permanent number - the previous number started with '7' indicating a temporary or interim number. I gave a copy to the nurse when he came, and sent a copy to my top-up insurers.
2. The nurse wants to start coming every day from now on, as there is still a leak from part of the wound and he wants to clean and dress it daily. Can't wait for the healing process to be complete - hopefully the incessant ringing I have had in that ear since the operation will stop then, too.
   

Good luck to Lewis and Heikke in Turkey today.

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

'S' day - the not-so-ghastly aftermath.

This was what I looked (and felt) like after I came home from the clinic on Monday, having had the tumour removed from my ear. Hopefully it will all heal up quickly and well, and we can put this episode behind us.

We had been told to report to the clinic at 08:30 on Monday, which we did. After the formalities, we went through to a very nice two bed ward where I was prepared and, by 9:30, wheeled through to theatre. The whole thing was very pleasant, the nurses and porters very friendly, polite and all the things we like.

The operation was carried out under local anaesthetic with some kind of sedative to keep me what they called "on a cloud". Early in the procedure the anaesthetist put something into the tube that had been inserted into my arm and told me that I would go to sleep for a brief moment. The next I knew was an awareness of pressure, cutting and so on in the area of my ear but, somehow, it wasn't happening to me or, if it was, I didn't care. When it was all finished, I guess they must have put in the reversal drug as I became aware of the nurse cleaning me up and putting a bandage around my head. Aware, that is, in a detached, disinterested way. I noticed that I couldn't move my hands, and became aware that I was strapped to the bed. Far from being freaked by this, I calmly remarked "Je suis prisonnier" much in the way, in the 60s, one might have said "Oh look - that cow just turned into a penguin and flew away". The nurse explained that they did that so I couldn't attempt to move at all whilst the surgeon was doing his delicate work. I didn't care.

The operation took about a half hour and, after a brief period in recovery, I was wheeled back to the ward, where Clare and Tania were waiting for me. The nurse brought breakfast and, after being checked over by the surgeon and having all the wires, plugs, tubes and needles removed, we were away before 1:30pm. The whole thing was very efficiently and well carried out.

There now remain only a number of visits from the nurse to keep the dressing changed and, eventually, remove the stitches. Then, for an indeterminate period, six-monthly examinations by a dermatologist to make sure the nasty little blighter doesn't reappear elsewhere.

Last Sunday, as promised, was la Fête de la Saint Georges (I know it looks wrong, but that is exactly what it is called, according to the official brochure) at St Maigner; the year portrayed being 1862. It was a glorious day with only a few scattered clouds right up until about 5pm, and temperatures reached nearly 24°C - that's 75°F!

As I said, the theme was St Maigner under the reign of Napoleon III and included a market, music, equestrian spectacle and an historic reconstruction, much of which took the form of a play based around a meeting of the local council.

On Wednesday morning the nurse came to change the dressing on my ear. He left me with a large pad plastered to the side of my head, so at least there was to be no more big bandage! Friday's visit was even better - the nurse, a lady this time, cleaned the area thoroughly before applying a fresh dressing, and Clare took the opportunity to take a quick snapshot. I have pasted this next to an earlier picture showing the same ear, which is below. It looks like a fair bit has gone but it’s a nice clean job. I think that once the swelling is down and I no longer look like a candidate for the French national rugby team it will be quite good.
The only question is – what happened to my lobe?

French Income Tax forms arrive during the second half of April and have to be completed and returned by the end of May. There are penalties for not getting them back in that short time. The whole thing can be done on-line, but not until 2nd May. Those who know me well will know that I don't like to keep things hanging around and so, on the morning of 2nd May, I laboured through the on-line tax returns - the basic declaration (form 2042K), the complementary declaration (form 2042CK) and the declaration of revenue received in other countries (form 2047). Apparently the declaration of bank accounts held outside France has only to be done once. I now need to put together my dossier of evidence for the figures I have declared, in case of any query from the authorities.

A few weeks ago, in order to stop our little blue tit tapping on our bedroom window as soon as dawn arrives, we closed the shutters and tilted them by about 15° to let some light in. It was very effective, and we haven't heard the tapping since.

This week, a swallow has decided that our windowsill is a very nice ledge - safe, wide enough and easy to get to - and has taken to making his contribution to the dawn chorus from that vantage point. He starts at 6:15am. Double glazing does not appear to deaden his song much, although it is likely that we would notice a difference were the windows not firmly closed. So happy is he with that position that, if I touch the window enough to cause him to jump off the ledge, he is back in under 30 seconds. I am generally up by about 6:15am!

Meanwhile, more on the blue tit confusion. Friday was a glorious day, little or no wind, nice temperature, and Ra (the vengeful Sun God) was in the ascendant all day. I have a theory that the purpose of a door is to be closed. If it is not closed it is, depending on the level of its not-closedness, either a jar or a hole. On days like Friday we have holes.

Just after 6pm I noticed something on the arm of the sofa. Close inspection and a search of my on-board memory suggested that what I could see was what Hermione Grainger might refer to as aves excretum. I called my co-conspirator for a second opinion and she was able to confirm my suspicions. Just then, I heard a familiar tapping on the front room window. On inspection, it turned out to be a blue tit - maybe he of the previous story, maybe not (they all look the same to me). This little fellow, as well as being a prime candidate for ownership of the aforesaid dropping, was jumping up and down tapping the window from the inside.

So, I leave you to surmise - attacking his reflection or trying to get out?

The week ended superbly with lots of sunshine and quite high temperatures on Saturday as well as on Friday and the promise of more on Sunday. We managed to give the grass another cut and to start on the grass around my veggie area although, even late Saturday afternoon, that was not really dry enough to cut, although it is already more than knee high in places!

When I got up this morning, the dressing - the pad and plasters - had fallen from my ear, leaving only the web and gauze still in place. Although I had shaved a larger area in order to give the plasters something other than hair to stick to, it didn't help. I think my perspiration had destroyed the plasters' ability to adhere. Fortunately, the nurse is due today, so we'll see whether the heavy padding is still needed and, if so, whether she has any ideas how to make it stick for two whole days.

Have a splendid week, and May the fourth be with you.

À la prochaine

Tomorrow is "S" day!

Sun-free but nice spring morning in Beaugut

I finally went into the workshop and started trying to do something meaningful with the lathe. I made a first attempt using a part of one of the branches removed from the Rowan tree in January [link]. It wasn't planned to be anything - I just needed a few sacrificial pieces on which I could practise before trying to do anything sensible.

What I did learn is that I needed something to cover my clothes, as I was ending up covered in wood chip and sawdust, which is not the easiest thing to get rid of - particularly on woollen jumpers.

We had a look at a number of specially designed workshop coveralls, all of which cost a lot more than I wanted to pay, and settled in the end for a dead cheap emergency rain suit - perfick.

So here is my first turning effort - it started as a thing I was playing with but, after few more minutes with it, we decided it could be a candlestick so, a hole in the top and a coat of varnish later - here it is. I am quite happy with it, and it has given me a good boost to push me onto more complex things. The candle was bought in (just in case anyone thinks I made that, too).

Meanwhile, Clare has set about renovating an old coffee table, which will look good in the (soon to be) refurbished bread oven room. We shall have to think of a new name for that room. Suggestions, please.

One reason for this sudden flurry of activity is the arrival of the Income Tax return forms today. I was hoping that it would be the same as last year's. That was a very complex affair, but at least we have it as a model. Sadly, this year's form is, for us, significantly more complex. I am trying to avoid paying an accountant to help me with it. I wouldn't expect an accountant to save me any tax, but only to ensure I fill the damned things in properly; and I don't really want to have to pay for that, if I can avoid it.

The forms we have to fill in are the basic declaration, supplementary declaration, declaration of income derived from abroad and declarations of all bank accounts held outside of France. As I understand it, the income has to be converted from Sterling to Euros at the rate applying on the date of each payment. We have four small but regular income streams, each of which arrives on a different day each month. For simplicity, I shall try using the rate achieved for the monthly transfer to our bank here in France.

I know I am supposed to be designing and building a lean-to greenhouse to replace the one that got away, and I know I have a perfect place for it and most of the materials I need to do it, but there are other priorities on the go at the moment. One of these is the solar drier I have been threatening to build for some time, and which has yet to progress even to the final design stage. I have also been fitting out and equipping the workshop and, now that it looks as though we might have a little bit of dry weather, the grass is desperately in need of cutting and I need to do other things in my part of the garden.

On the other hand, there is pressure to make protected space available for those things that can't simply be implicated into the ground and left to get on with it. Therefore, whilst out buying a decent vice and a few other small things for the workshop, as well as some insect screening for the back door, we took the bull by the proverbials and bought one of these soft plastic balcony growing things. I'll bet that will fly well in a decent wind! Fortunately it is located inches from the doorway (well, it would be a doorway if there were a door - perhaps I should just call it a hole) to the workshop. In the event of meteorological flatulence it can be carried into the workshop with relative ease.

The week finished well. Friday and Saturday were both sunny and warm, and we just about managed to give the grass its second cut of the year. The part below my vegetable patch was still too wet and already too long for the mower to deal with, so I had to resort to strimming! Today, Sunday, is also promising, and we are looking forward to an enjoyable and educational festival in the village. I shall let you know next week.

Meanwhile, tomorrow is surgery day. We have to report to the clinic in Montluçon at 8:30am armed with various pieces of paper. I have to admit, perhaps not unexpectedly, to mixed feelings about the whole thing. The ear is mostly not troublesome to me, provided I take simple precautions, and so it is a little scary moving from that to having a chunk cut out of it with the attendant reconstruction work to follow. On the other hand, we all know that it is not in the nature of a carcinoma to sit still and do nothing. From that point of view, the sooner it is out the happier I shall be. Knowing that it needs to be removed to prevent it from spreading and becoming a very major issue does tend rather to outweigh my misgivings about the nature of its removal, but it doesn't remove the apprehension! More about that, too, next week.

Meantime, have a good week.

À la prochaine

We had a call from Jan last Sunday to let us know that the trees we had asked him to buy for us in Belgium were available, and we picked them up on Monday afternoon. Pictured here, temporarily held in the terrace (about three feet above the ground level at this point) whilst waiting for the rain to stop are, left to right, cooking apple, nectarine and walnut. We also have three willow whips which I shall put into the ground before they are used for something I may come to regret!
The first job now was to work out where to put them. The walnut could grow to be quite large - the label says 12m in height, the books say 10m spread (and little, if anything, can grow in its shade as the roots and leaves contain substances that will stop many things growing) - so careful thought was given to where it should be placed. By placing the walnut at the bottom of the slope adjacent to the top of the ramp, the lower branches should be at waist- to eye-level when seen from the top of the ramp, and there is nothing in the area covered by its potential spread that can be harmed by its presence. The large cooking apple tree is planted south of the cherry tree to continue the layout of the orchard, and the nectarine has taken the nice sunny, sheltered position that was briefly occupied by the effing greenhouse which, you will recall, I never wanted in the first place. I just hope it can withstand a stiff breeze better than the effing greenhouse did! Finally, the willow whips have been unceremoniously implicated into the soil (one near the pond and the other two in the wild area) and left to get on with it, along with an indeterminate number of wild flower seeds - not like the sunflowers in my area which will be cossetted beyond belief - NOT.

My general view is that plants have an enormously strong survival drive, and thus should be able to stand up to whatever the weather throws at them. That may explain why none of my broad bean plants survived the onset of winter! In any event, we have also planted out sweetcorn, broad beans, pumpkins and sunflowers whilst it was dry! That was Tuesday. Tuesday night was frosty but, fortunately, everything looked as expected on Wednesday.

Good news! Wednesday morning, dear sweet post lady brought the attestation from CPAM! We are now, effective from 14th April, officially affiliated to the state health system. The long wait is finally over.

We travelled up to Montluçon on Thursday for my appointment with the anaesthetist. The waiting room was not full, and we were seen within twenty minutes of the appointed time, which I regard as very acceptable. The anaesthetist (or as they, worryingly, like to call themselves here - anaesthetist/resuscitator) asked a few questions just to confirm what I had written on the form, transcribed much of it to another, similar, form and pumped my arm up for a blood pressure test. She then told me I had to produce various blood test reports before turning up for the operation. I could either arrange these myself through a lab of my choosing or use the lab in the clinic. I chose the latter as, although I have previous experience of blood tests through the lab in St Eloy-les-Mines, I didn't see the point in arranging for a technician to visit when I could do it there and then.

The young woman in the lab reception who took down my details made a couple of errors and got into a state with the address and telephone number. I don't think it was my French, as the woman sat beside her pointed out what she had done wrong.

I don't have a blood group card. That meant I had to have two extra lots of blood taken and produce two means of identification with photograph, full name and date of birth, so they can issue one. I carry my passport and my UK driving licence with me all the time, so that was not a problem. What was a problem was a combination of two things:

1. My Passport and D/L showed my birth date as 14th June, the form produced by the office had it as 4th. No problem, correct and print a new form
2. My Passport and D/L showed my forenames as Keith Edgar, the form produced by the office had my forename as Keith. This gave rise to an entertaining couple of minutes when I explained that Edgar is a second forename - no, not Keith-Edgar as in Jean-Pierre, but two distinct forenames. If a form asks for forename(s) it gets both, if it asks for forename it gets just Keith. As an aside, when we initially opened our bank accounts here, the manager asked how we should like to see our names shown on our debit cards. I indicated no preference, but Clare said she didn't want Jacqueline Channing as everyone knows her as Clare, so could she have J Clare Channing. When they came, Clare's is shown as J-Clare Channing, mine as K-Edgar Channing. Perhaps he thinks that is how we do it in the United Kingdom.
   

Nonetheless, the blood samples were duly taken - eight vials in all - we paid the anaesthetist's receptionist for the interview (28€ for five minutes). The test results, invoices for the blood tests, which totalled 85€ and my blood group card arrived on Saturday.

Oh yes! Lest I forget - I have another form to sign before they will do the operation. I have to sign to say that I have read and understood the two-page document telling me all about anaesthesia and its potential risks, and that I consent to it anyway. Of course I have, and of course I do - who do they think I am, Ivander bleedin' Holyfield?

I can't wait to get this over and done with!

The weather all week has been quite variable - some cool but sunny, some frost, some heavy rain and even some hail. Yesterday (Saturday) afternoon we went to Montluçon for a couple of minor purchases. We took the MX-5 to give her an outing and ended up driving back with the roof down (and my hat on my head to prevent the nasty, evil, vicious, spiteful Sun God from taking another shot at killing me). It actually felt very warm - even at 90Kph, ant it was after 6pm. Having said that, half way home it clouded over, there was rain close by, and we were feeling the wind from the rain, so the wisdom of going topless was called into question.

Next Sunday will be quite hectic. The annual St. George's celebration is taking place in St Maigner. This year the festivities will take the form of an historical reenactment of life in the village under Napoleon III. The date chosen is 1860, which means it is well within the lifetime of our house which, you will recall from last year, we believe to have been built somewhere around 1800 and certainly before 1830. It was the time of the war in Mexico to which a lot of men were being drafted, and the early stages of mechanisation of farm work. I shall be interested to see how some of the artefacts compare with the old ploughs etc that we have on our property here. The event starts at about 9am and continues well into the evening.

Also next Sunday, Tania is planning to visit so she can be here when I go in for my operation on Monday 28th; and there is the small matter of the Bahrain Grand Prix which I obviously can't trust to be run properly unless I am watching it!

As an afterthought - following last week's mention of the crazed tit, we did some research and it seems that the bird sees its own reflection and attacks it. I have two problems with that:

1. Why does it jump, in some cases by over two feet, to attack its reflection, when its reflection is at its own level?
2. Why does closing heavy curtains, which would enhance its reflection, cause it to stop - always, reliably and without fail?

The clever people tell us it is attacking its own reflection. We can observe birds' behaviour and, where we see repeated patterns, we can make assumptions and draw inferences about causes and motivations. I doubt, though, whether any human, after countless aeons of civilisation have robbed us of practically every primitive instinct, can possibly state with authority what motivates a small creature to do anything beyond the most basic actions.

After, afterthought - the blighter just started doing it with the heavy curtain closed. Shows how much I know!

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Operations, formalities and don't you just love Vista

Chris and Sally and the girls got away well on Monday morning and, it seems, had a good time at Eurodisney. They were fortunate with the weather on Monday, as it was a very good dry, almost warm day with plenty of sunshine. That was not a portent for the rest of the week. It was, rather, a flash in the pan. The rest of the week was not good.

Our job on Monday was to travel to Montluçon to see the Plastic Surgeon. That we did, and we discussed available treatments. It seems that an amount of tissue and cartilage will need to be removed, then reform the ear as is, but a bit smaller. Given that, with most people, it is most unusual to see both ears at the same time, it is unlikely it will be noticed. If it is noticeable, I can always grow my hair to cover it.

Surgery is now scheduled for 28^th April. The operation will be carried out under local anaesthetic plus a sedative that the surgeon says is to "put me on a cloud and keep me cool about everything". Sounds intriguing. It should take about half an hour, and I am booked as a day patient, to receive after care at home by a visiting nurse. I then need to be thoroughly checked over by a dermatologist every six months to ensure there is no recurrence.

There are, of course, a number of procedures to follow and forms to fill in to enable the operation to go ahead. Much as I like Al Murray, his regular "If we had no rules, where would we be? - France!" is so very far off the mark as to be funny for that reason alone! The forms are:

1. Pre-admission form, where I give all the personal details including Health registration number and top-up insurance details,
   
2. Anaesthetic questionnaire, with lots of stuff that is essential for the anaesthesiologist - this I have to take along to my appointment with the anaesthesiologist which must be more than 48 hours before the operation (arranged for 17th)
   
3. Payment form with a 40€ cheque which I shall not be able to recover (not sure what that is for, the operation will cost a great deal more than that).
   
4. consent form which is also a confirmation that all the risks have been explained to me
   
5. authority for the doctor to take tests for HIV, hepatitis and CMV (herpes) and
   
6. a booklet containing another consent form, discharge form and post-operative evaluation form

All fairly straightforward until you factor in that I have not yet received from CPAM (Caisse Primaire Assurance Maladie, the organisation that administers the state health insurance scheme) confirmation of my affiliation. Until I have that I don't have the registration number and I can't arrange top-up insurance either.

Having sent a couple of emails to CPAM (and received automatic acknowledgement but nothing else) I enlisted the help of those fabulous people at the local pharmacy. They called CPAM for me and reported back that the affiliation has been done, but that the Carte Vitale will take some time to issue. I am not so concerned about the card - it is just a means of payment that allows health charges to be billed directly to CPAM and insurers. Without it, I pay and claim back. So far, the attestation, the document that confirms my affiliation has not yet arrived. Fingers crossed!

I had a call from Rik to say that Michel, the menuisier who did such a super job on our bathroom, was having trouble with his ADSL connection. Clare and I popped around to see him and his partner, Marie, during the week and were able to confirm that the problem was in his ADSL modem. The provider had established that the connection was good and I was able to confirm not only that there was no problem with his PC, but also that the PC was not communicating effectively with the ADSL modem. We saw Marie in Montluçon on Thursday and she was happy to tell us that everything is now OK.

Our other success during the week relates to an Acer laptop that we acquired at the end of last year. It came with Windows Vista Home Premium (deep, abiding joy) but had started to show some serious problems. So serious were they that I could not even complete a full restore from the disks prepared when the machine first arrived! After spending some time on the web, it transpires that the most popular thing people like to do with this particular model laptop is to wipe it and install Windows XP. As I have a spare installable copy of XP Professional from a PC that is now dead, I decided to give it a go.

First job was to delete the existing disk partition and reformat the disk. The machine came with three partitions - 50GB usable, 50GB factory image and 9GB hidden. It now has a single disk of 114GB, all usable. Installing XP was easy, except that Acer do not provide XP drivers for the hardware fitted (not even the hard disk), so we had to acquire those and work some magic before we could do the install. The whole job took about three hours, plus the very extensive amount of time needed to do all the Windows updates and install all the software we need on board.

In total, the transition from a Vista machine that we were about to pack up and send back for warranty repairs (and probably not see for a good few weeks) to a fully working, stable and fairly quick XP machine was probably no more than 72 elapsed hours.

Clare has been doing some work in the bread oven room, tidying and cleaning in preparation for converting it into a lounge. We have also put a table top on the sink and covered it so we have some hidden storage (for our wellies, mostly)

We have also added to the workshop - we now have the bandsaw set up and tested, and have built a more suitable table for the table saw. In fact it is big enough and strong enough to be almost a proper workbench, although it does still want a few finishing touches.We have a resident nutter - a BSB (no, not British Sky Broadcasting, but a Bloody Stupid Bluetit) who, and we think it is the same one, alternates between a number of our windows, where (s)he jumps to a height of between ten and thirty centimetres, 'nuts' the window quite violently and drops back again. Usually done at intervals of between one and two seconds, this goes on for up to half an hour at a time. Here (s)he is in action on the back doors:


All in all, not a bad week. All we need now is some decent weather to do some work on the vegetable gardens.

Oh yes - and plans are afoot to create an enclosure that will be half way between a large cold frame and a lean-to greenhouse, as a replacement for the greenhouse we lost a few weeks ago.

Watch this space, as they say, and have a good week.

À la prochaine

Spring has finally arrived

So the second attempt to put Grandma on a plane went much better, and she made her way back home without incident.

Rik came around to help with the completion of the forms for the déclaration préalable (a special form used for small works that do not need detailed planning permission) in relation to our proposed Velux window. The form runs to about seven pages, needs to be submitted in triplicate (I think) and each accompanied by a map locating the property in relation to local roads and other properties, exterior photographs of the front and back of the house showing measurements and one of the back with the proposed window drawn in, interior photographs of the room in which the window is to be placed and photographs showing the view from all sides of the house. Once submitted to the Mairie, it will be forwarded to the regional planning authorities, who have one month to raise queries. If nothing is heard within one month of the date of submission it is OK to proceed. Question. What if there are queries, but they are lost in the post?

In any event, it seems to be an awful lot of palaver just to put in a window to get some light in the room!

Just because I can, and because I have no other photographs this week, here are those we shall be submitting with the forms. First the front outside and the view from the front

Then the back outside and the view from the back

and finally, the place where the window is to be fitted, and the existing light source

Meanwhile, out in the real world, the swallows have now arrived in force and have started nesting in the left hand piggery, and all the other birds look as though they have paired up. The frogs and toads are calling and we heard our first cricket during the week. Owzat for a sign of spring. Today is sunny and very pleasant - we gather it is snowing in England.

It was dry enough to cut the grass yesterday, and the sun was shining, so I had to keep my hat on!

Yesterday evening Clare's sister Sally-Ann arrived with husband Chris, youngest daughter Bethany and Richard's (one of Sally-Ann's sons) girlfriend, Gemma. They are on a bit of a detour en route to Eurodisney and will continue their journey on Monday morning. It is really nice to see them, and we hope they can have a relaxing time before facing the high excitement of Mickey Mouse land!

I think that is probably it for this week. Next week I shall be able to let you know how it went with the Plastic Surgeon. 

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Cancelled flights, snow, medical stuff and the start of spring (we hope)

You will recall that last week's entry was made early as we had to travel to the airport at Limoges to welcome our friends, Peter and Marcia and drop off Clare's Mum.

The journey took a good bit longer than usual as, for the first 45Kms or so, we were rarely able to go as fast as 50Kph (and often a lot less) by reason of the snow on the road. A one-horse open sleigh might almost have been a better bet than an Astra G estate! At the same time the emissions warning light started occasionally popping on for minutes at a time, which did little for our confidence.

The plan was simple. Clare's Mum was due to fly out at 5pm with Flybe, whilst Peter and Marcia were arriving from Stansted with Ryanair at 12:30pm. We had already agreed with Peter and Marcia that we would all hang around until Grandma went through to departures for her flight.

That was the plan.

As it turned out, on arrival at the airport (after, you will recall, a difficult drive of over two and a half hours - were we describing this on a news programme it would probably be called an ordeal, and we would be looking at a photo album), that Grandma's flight had been cancelled! Oh yes, and the Ryanair flight was delayed.

Whilst waiting for the flight from Stansted to arrive, I spoke with the Flybe ground staff, who informed me that the flight had been cancelled at very short notice and no-one had been told. Later in the week it came out that the airport, presumably Southampton, had closed the runway at short notice for maintenance. Anyway, the final result of that was that Grandma came back with us (and Peter and Marcia and three people's luggage).

By the time we returned, much of the snow had cleared, and the entire week turned to mostly rain (although the sun did make a welcome appearance or two towards the end of the week).

Bad weather means a restful week. The highlights, excluding shopping, were a trip to Clermont-Ferrand (shopping, mostly) and a few games on the PS2 of Buzz, the music quiz, and Who Wants to be a Millionaire
Peter did quite well!

Also, during the week, swallow numbers are slowly growing - we saw three together yesterday, one of which was of the more eastern variant, displaying an orange/red breast and, also yesterday, the cattle came out from their winter quarters in the barn with their usual display of joy! And Clare's full birth certificate also arrived, so we can press on with the state health thing.

Just as well, really. After taking Peter and Marcia back to the airport on Friday (and we are looking forward to seeing them again later in the year), we went hot-foot to Montluçon to keep the appointment with the dermatologist. Immediately on entering his office he said, with the diplomacy, sugar-coating and euphemistic circumlocution that is the province of a seasoned senior medical professional, "It's a carcinoma - do you understand that?". The part of my reply he heard was "Thank you". The part he didn't hear was "Why not say what you mean? - B@ST@RD". We then had a ten minute chat about growth, spreading, regular checks and so on, whilst he wrote a note to another doctor and told me to go and make an appointment without delay. "Is it dangerous?", I asked. "Yes", he replied, "but not the most dangerous". I wonder what he meant by that. "Would you prefer clinic or hospital?", he asked. "Clinic", I replied, fully expecting him to follow up with questions like "red or blue, apple or orange or maybe even muffin or crumpet". Our final piece of conversation was, "Does your wife speak better French than you?". I replied, with the same candour that he had used speaking to me, "No". "It is very important that you understand all this!". Was he trying to comfort me, inform me or scare the bejeezez out of me? Who knows?

We found the PolyClinic. We didn't look at the brass plates on the side, as there was a very prominent notice on the door informing all and sundry that the reception for the doctor with whom we should make an appointment is through the first door on the left - and so it was. Now bear in mind we had just been told what no-one wants to hear. On a previous visit the dermatologist had given, or I had received, the impression that if there were to be any cutting out of the tumour and reconstruction of the ear, he would do it. When he told me to go aussi vite que possible to another doctor, our assumption was that his preferred course of action was not available and he was referring me to an oncologist. I say again, we didn't look at the brass plates at the entrance to the PolyClinic and there was nothing in the reception to indicate the doctor's speciality. We left, having made an appointment for Monday week, 7th April.

Much deep discussion on the way home. I thought we were handling the whole thing very well.

When we got home, I decided my first jobs were to scan the doctor's note and the biopsy report from the lab, then Google the doctor to see what I could learn. Imagine my relief when I found him to be a leading Plastic Surgeon! I now believe that when the dermatologist said "We will remove the tumour ..." the "we" in question referred generically to the medical profession; it was not a royal "we". I have been speaking with a friend, whose father had the same problem a few years ago and described the treatment, which involves cutting out the tumour and enough of its surrounds to ensure there is nothing left to jump up and bite me, as pretty straightforward. That will do me. If, as I believe, the treatment includes a reconstruction of the ear so that I don't end up looking like a cross between Vincent van Gogh and a Maasai warrior, then I shall be well satisfied.

Final upshot? Currently, we are not worried. The problem has been identified and a course of treatment decided. We are in the hands of medical professionals who have an interest in successfully treating patients. The procedures are relatively minor and the prognosis is excellent. Why would we worry?

And there is a benefit. General opinion is that these things are caused by extended periods of extensive exposure to sun, they affect men more than women (good argument in favour of long hair) and the right ear more than the left (dunno why). It is felt wise to prevent further damage by severely limiting exposure of the vulnerable parts to the sun. In an attempt to prevent further damage, I now, as soon as the evil sun thing appears, wear a hat that is very similar to that worn by one of my all-time heroes - Norman Thayer, Jr. If anyone is not familiar with that name, treat yourselves to a view of On Golden Pond, starring Henry Fonda, Katherine Hepburn and Jane Fonda.

Go on! You know you want to...

The trouble with keeping a diary ...

... is that, sometimes, there really isn't very much to say.

Grandma is still with us - she goes back tomorrow. Here we are in communication mode - two lots of Skype and Messenger on the go. Just in case you thought I was turning my back on IT!
That explains why I am writing this on Saturday evening instead of Sunday. We have the Malaysian Grand Prix to watch at 7:15am tomorrow. That will take us to just before 10am, at which time we shall need to leave the house for the two and a bit hours' drive to Limoges airport. Our friends are due to arrive with Ryanair at about 12:30pm and Clare's Mum is due out on the FlyBe flight to Southampton at 5pm. It means we shall need to hang around the airport for a couple of hours but that is no big deal. Mind you, if this lot continues it may pose a minor problem for us!
We have still not fired up the lathe in earnest. The weather has been mostly atrocious when we have had the time to go into the workshop (and there is no door on the workshop yet). I expect we should be able to do some work on Grandma's next visit.

Since last Sunday a few things have happened. I went to see the specialist in Montluçon about my ear on Tuesday afternoon. Not only was the appointment made within 2 working days of asking for it, but I saw him within 5 minutes of the appointed time – bloody good system! He took a look and decided to take a biopsy. It involved anaesthetising the outer ear and cutting in quite deeply to get a pure sample, as my own GP had tried cauterising it a few weeks earlier. I was in his office for about half an hour including stitching up, talking through it and paying up. He has now sent the sample off to the regional lab in Clermont-Ferrand, and I have to go back next Friday for the results. He says that if it is malignant, he will cut it out, plus about a centimetre around, and then reconstruct the ear. Goodness only knows how much that will cost – I just hope my confirmation of cover from the state health system arrives in time (or, better yet, that it is benign). He gave me a prescription for some sterile cleaner, sterile gauze and plaster - so Clare could be nurse every so often - and sent me packing. We called in to the pharmacy in Pionsat on the way back. The very nice lady in there told me that my French is getting better all the time and that I have hardly any accent. Pleased me no end, that did - even if she was just being nice.

We then called in to the mairie to collect the forms needed to obtain the permit to put the Velux window in the roof. Awful. Rik will help me with those as soon as he can see clearly - he has managed to damage his eye, needing an emergency visit to an ophthalmologist!

Later in the week I had a couple of calls from the state health insurance office in Clermont-Ferrand. The first was to tell me that my dossier is progressing nicely, but they need full birth certificates for both of us. I have mine, but Clare has only a short certificate, so we have had to order a full one. That costs £23 and takes about a month. It can be done in 7 days for another £27! We decided to go for that, paid by Visa, and the blighters have added another £1.05 for the privilege! Still, if it arrives more quickly and allows us to get into the system, it will be worth it. The private health insurance policy has arrived. I wouldn't want to take it by choice. Anything related to my hypertension or cholesterol is excluded from cover, as is anything related to my prostate or Clare's IBS. In addition to that, once any condition progresses from acute to chronic (which includes practically all long-term problems) they won't cover it any more. That is supposed to be comprehensive health insurance!

The second call from the service was to tell me something about numbers - I didn't get all of it, but the lady did say that it would all be confirmed in writing, and she did seem to be telling me that we are in the system and will soon receive our attestation. The birth certificates are needed for the cartes vitales, which are an enabling thing, not the actual cover.

Meanwhile, it looks as though the "let's get McLaren Mercedes" is going on. I saw the qualifying this morning and was, with most people, concerned about the danger of slow cars cruising back whilst others were still on hot laps. What I don't understand is why, as at least seven cars were doing that, McLaren Mercedes were singled out for punishment. Could it be connected with the fact that the whinger Alonzo was one of those complaining, or is it perhaps an attempt to give the Ferrari team an easier time of it?

I think that's it. Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Never wanted an effing greenhouse anyway!

You may remember my mentioning, a couple of weeks ago, that the tolerances on the greenhouse were impossibly small. This is because the edge profile of the 'windows' has to fit exactly into the edge profile of the frame members, into which they are then clipped with a strip of plastic. A couple of these, although placed, were not as secure as I should have liked them to have been. It turned out that the wind was in agreement with my assessment of the situation. Gusts exceeding 75Kph managed to find, and take advantage of small imperfections in the seals and, very effectively, remove a roof panel and a side panel. As the weather was atrocious we removed those panels for safekeeping and verified that the structure was well anchored and as solid as one could expect from such an edifice.

The absence of those panels turned the remaining panels into what I can only describe using words like jib, mainsail or even spinnaker! Hiding inside the house and looking to see how the greenhouse was coping with some very strange, strong, blustery, gusty winds, we were horrified to see the greenhouse take on the aspect of an out-of-control TARDIS, float gracefully for about forty metres and effect a landing that makes an American Black Vulture's first attempt look dignified. Anyone living in the south of England who has never seen an American Black Vulture landing is recommended to visit The Hawk Conservancy, near Andover to appreciate what I am saying. Here is the resulting mess.
Well, none of the plastic panels is at all damaged - only the frame is thoroughly trashed. I reckon I can do a half decent cold frame and incorporate some into the solar fruit drier I am working towards making. I can also possibly fabricate a lean-to half greenhouse on a SW facing wall, where the rabbit hutches used to be.

Now, what can I do with a load of twisted, buckled aluminium - I know; I could stick it together, give it a fancy name, ship it to England and win a major art prize with it!

It is said that it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. Will some good come of this? Who knows - one can but hope.

In the words of Lizette Woodworth Reese - After the sun the rain, After the rain the sun; This is the way of life, Till the work be done.

Yes, the middle of the week was glorious. We enjoyed full sun and temperatures of almost 20°C. So good was it that we managed to get some planting done. My patch now has a load of potatoes planted, and we have Broad Beans, Sweetcorn and Pumpkins in seed trays developing. The large area that Clare's Dad and I worked between us whilst he was here will be divided into four; each quarter will grow Broad Beans, Sweetcorn and Pumpkins and will be planted such that we should have a continuous harvest for three or four months. Clare and her Mum also planted a load of stuff in her patch at the top of the garden. I'm not sure what is in there, but have no doubt Clare will speak of it in her blog Little Bit of Beaugut as soon as time permits.

The week tried to end nicely. Saturday morning was nice enough to give the grass its first cut. It looks better now. The trees are also beginning to come into leaf, so maybe Spring is on the way. One sign of spring is the birds' activity. The sparrows are having numerous disputes, I am sure that I saw a group of migrating storks this morning moving in a northerly direction over the house, we have seen the actual single swallow that doth not a summer make and, most interestingly of all, it looks like a pair of wrens has taken over an old swallows' nest that was not used last year (in the garden tool store - used to be called to right hand piggery).
Not all good news this week, I'm afraid. Four weeks ago I saw my Doctor about a lump on my ear, which he cauterised (without an anaesthetic which hurt - a lot) and told me to report back if it returned. It returned. This week I went to see him again. He told me that the cauterisation didn't work fully because it went too deep. He then said he would make an appointment for me to see a dermatologist. During the consultation (he doesn't speak a word of English, by the way, and my French is strained beyond breaking point by medical talk) he used three different terms to describe it. He first described it as a keratosis, then he called it a tumour, then a local cancer. He did stress that it is not a major thing, lots of people get them and I shouldn't worry. It may be a language thing, but to my mind, use of the C word and don't worry in the same sentence is a major linguistic incompatibility. Anyway, he telephoned the dermatologist, and I have an appointment for next Tuesday afternoon. Fingers are crossed!

Rik came around today to talk about the Velux window. He hopes to be able to do it within a couple of weeks, but I have first to get a permis from the maire.

I think that's it. Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Taxes, snow, health cover, relocating rodents and electing a council - a good week!

After last week's letter from HMRC my daily checks of bank accounts this week have been a little more pleasant than usual. First the AVC pension provider refunded the tax I had paid on that small amount since April 2007, then my main pension provider followed suit and finally HMRC themselves repaid into my account all of the tax I paid in tax year 2006/2007. That means that my UK tax position is finally regularised only 21 months after we made the move. The balance in the UK bank is now healthier as a result of these refunds, which means we can definitely afford the Velux window that we want to have placed on the west side of the study area.

Tania came for a brief visit on Tuesday morning. She had planned to follow up on her skiing last month with a couple of days now. She had only been on skis four times before, and wanted to consolidate what she had achieved.

We all went down to Mont Dore - Tania in her car (as she was staying overnight), Grandma, Clare and I in ours. By the time we arrived it was snowing lightly and a tad windy.
We went with Tania to hire some skis, then drove her to the mountain. Half way up we hit heavy snow and very high winds - a total whiteout. The road surface was very dodgy and we don't have snow tyres or chains. We reached a point where we decided we shouldn't go any higher, so dropped Tania off (it was at an access point for the ski-lifts, so she didn't have to trudge far). We then turned back to the town centre very carefully. Even thus and at about 15kph, when we came to a junction where we had to make a left turn, gentle pressure on the brake pedal resulted in an increase in speed rather than a reduction, and we missed the car in front of us by inches! We finally parked near the hotel into which Tania was booked and journeyed up to the mountain on the (free) bus.

By the time we arrived at the mountain the wind was well in, visibility was not good and the display showed over half of the pistes were closed.
Tania is a very determined young woman, and had already got some good skiing in. After a bit of warming lunch, we went out to watch her. The temperature was said to be -2.5°C, dragged down considerably by a lot of wind chill. I expect the Ice Road Truckers (brilliant TV series) would have thought it temperate but we thought it to be several degrees on the wrong side of unpleasant!

It was good to see Tania doing her thing, and we were very impressed with the confidence and competence she displayed. Whilst waiting for her we saw a couple of guys come down with icicles hanging from their noses. That is bl**dy cold! Here is Tania coming down quite quickly from the right hand side.

We had taken as much as we wanted to by that time, so left Tania to continue whilst we trudged to the bus stop. Poor Grandma did some gymnastics on the way down very snowy steps, performing a creditable base-over-apex that, mercifully, resulted in no more than a heavily bruised btm and elbow.

Half way down the hill, Tania boarded the bus, having lost all feeling in her face through the cold and deciding that she was there to enjoy herself, not punish herself.

When we got back to the car, we were surprised at its condition. After no more than two hours it showed a number of icicles and, when we tried to move it, we found that the handbrake had frozen on! It took a while to get going - in the freezing cold.
The first part of the journey home was fraught. We are not geared up for driving on compacted snow. We made it in one piece. Tania stayed and spent a good part of the next day on the slopes, although the weather was deteriorating and runs were being closed quite rapidly.

Over this cold snap, we have had increasing evidence of the presence of mice in the house, so we purchased a couple of live traps to try to catch some. We placed them on Thursday early evening and, by the time we were ready for bed (which meant certainly not before Ashes to Ashes had finished) both traps, one in the airing cupboard and one in the cellar, were occupied. We placed their residents into a large, ventilated tin, reset the traps and placed them back in the same place. Friday morning they were both again occupied so we added these two to the two already in a large tin and again reset and replaced the traps. At the time of writing (Sunday mid-day) they are both still empty.
We had decided to take the trip to Riom (see last week's entry) on Friday morning, so took the tin containing the four mice with us. About 12Kms out, in open countryside well away from houses but with good hedge cover, we released the mice. They all seemed well and scuttled off into the undergrowth.

We arrived at the CPAM office with enough documents to fill a filing cabinet. The very nice lady looked through the dossier, took copies of relevant documents, noted what we had given her in respect of income for 2006 (which everyone had told us was what was needed) but asked for details of 2007 income. I gave her a prepared sheet but she wanted justicatifs. I explained that my pension fund only issue a pay slip when the amount differs from the previous month by £10 or more, so she said she could happily accept bank statements to show the money being paid in to my UK account.

We drove the 74Kms back home, printed off the bank statements and went back after lunch with them. We saw a different lady, but the one we had seen in the morning saw us go in, and rushed in to explain to lady number two that she had already approved all the documents and just needed the bank statements. It looks like the dossier has now been accepted. We now have to wait to hear from CPAM, but are quietly hopeful that we shall soon be regularised.

Today is the first day of the municipal elections, and we have done our duty. The way it works is not what we have known. In a small commune such as this, there are a maximum of eleven seats. We had received a list for approval, and this list (in the absence of other opposing lists) is the ballot paper. Placing the list unaltered into the ballot box signifies a vote for all names on the list. Names can be crossed off, which is a negative vote, and new names can be added. There are no boxes for crosses. I am sure it works differently in larger communities, but in St Maigner, we just approve the list. There may be a second vote if the result of the first is inconclusive, but I a hoping that our neighbour will let us know if that is the case. We just found out from the list that he is a councillor and one of the two deputies to the Maire!

À la prochaine