There is no dignity in old age - particularly if you are a dog

... by which I mean a member of the species Canis familiaris, and not someone who fails to match up to one's personal (aspirational) standard of physical attractiveness.

Poor old Flash has had a real week of it. We took him to the vet on Wednesday because, as well as all his other troubles, his stools resembled fresh tar. Not good. Our investigations showed a number of possible causes, all of which suggested a prompt visit to a professional.

I weighed him when we arrived. Bear in mind his steady (and therefore, one assumes, ideal) weight for years, up until Hobie was put down and Flash's troubles started, was 25.5Kg. On Wednesday it was 19.7Kg - a loss of almost 23%. That would be like someone who should weigh 11 stones (70Kg) weighing in at 8½ stones (54Kg). Seriously underweight. I also told the vet that he seemed to have lost all power in his back legs — almost to the point that, from time to time, he seems to be paralysed. She was less worried about this than about the weight loss (another Kg lost in less than two weeks), pointing out that much of his weight is in his muscles and, if he has lost 23% of the muscle mass in his thighs, the power in his legs will be reduced. As to the black, tarry stools (a sample of which we had brought with us - nice); this is indicative of blood in his system, and is a known side effect of the Digoxin (digitalis) tablets he has to take to regulate his heartbeat. She gave him an antibiotic injection and an antispasmodic for his stomach, and gave us two nutritional supplements that have to be administered by syringe, straight into his throat. Twice per day for two days and please bring him back on Friday morning.


We administered the jollop as directed, in addition to his usual tablets. One of the supplements is in powder form to be mixed with a little water and administered (the vet did say Flash wouldn't like it, and she was right) using the syringe provided. Happily, no needle was needed! That stuff has to be administered quite quickly, as it soon becomes very gloopy, and is headed towards being difficult to push through the syringe by the time we get to the third and last syringe full. The other looked alarmingly like the stools that had worried us in the first place. That one he did not like and, by Friday morning, he had used up three of the four doses the syringe contained.

We took him to the vet on Friday, just as the local representatives of the species Passer domesticus were clearing the night's build-up of gaseous substances from their cloacas. I weighed him - 20.7Kg. Brilliant - provided their scales were accurate, or at least consistent, he had gained a kilo. His stools were beginning to look somewhat better, although there was still a lot of blood apparent. She had a feel around his tummy and said that he was in a lot less pain, that we should finish the black jollop and continue with the other one for another three days. She then wanted him to come back in four weeks for another blood test to establish his digoxin levels, to see if the dose could be safely reduced a little.

Our usual vet, Élise (about whom nothing bad should ever be said), will be back from holiday next week and will be brought up to date by the vet we have been seeing in her absence.

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Shortly after returning from the vet's, I had to gear up to drive to Paris to collect Tania's dogs - she is going to be away for a few weeks, and we agreed to look after them.

I had done some looking at www.viamichelin.fr and, according to that, if I avoid the chargeable areas of autoroutes, it would cost about the same in petrol (about 35€ each way), take two hours longer, and save over 26€ each way on tolls. It was worth a go. It was a very pleasant drive up - more interesting than the autoroutes, and without incident. There were a few towns and villages where the traffic was a little heavy, but nothing major. I reached Tania's place, parked up, and was in within six hours of leaving home.

Tania's friend Melanie turned up for the evening, which was very pleasant. Most of it was spent trying to decide what Tania should pack for her trip. Her chihuahua, Tinkerbell, wanted to go with her,


but I had other ideas for him!


Were I to say the bin was laden, this blog would probably attract an unusual amount of attention, so I shan't say it.

All the indications were that the traffic on Saturday morning would be horrendous. The schools broke up on Thursday, and a lot of families were off for their summer hols. Tania had to check in at Charles de Gaulle airport at 9am, so we left just after 7am for the thirty minute journey (to allow for traffic) and arrived at 7:40am. Leaving the airport I found out, by the time I reached the A6B, why it had been declared a red day for traffic. It was horrendous until I reached the point where I could choose to stay on the A10 (toll) and follow the A10/A71 route or to veer off into the countryside. I chose the latter and took the non-payage route home. Traffic was OK mostly for the rest of the journey, but the towns that were busy on Friday were clogged on Saturday. The various traffic jams probably cost us at least an hour. At Vierzon I relented and jumped on to the A71 for the last couple of hundred kilometres.

I finally arrived at about 2:30pm, with two dogs that had, apart from a couple of pee-breaks, been sleeping on the back seat since we left CdG - and look who was waiting for me when I arrived.

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I did manage to get the grass cut on Monday, then spent a very pleasant hour or two with Jean-Marc, who has the ruin just down from us. Good wine, good conversation (bad French on my part, but we managed) and a jolly good time was had. J-M is hoping for a storm before the weekend, to help his vegetable plots. I'm not.

He won. Massive thunderstorm on Thursday evening, with rain the like of which I haven't seen since I was caught in a monsoon in Kuala Lumpur in the early 80s.


Lots of thunder, very close (according to this source) and very loud! Until then, it had been hot and sunny all week. After that, it was hot and cloudy. Happily, it stayed dry for the drive to Paris and back.

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What else has happened this week? Oh yes. We have relocated the rotary clothes line to the back of the house; an area that picks up all the wind. I have also relocated the satellite dish we use for French broadcasts, in the hope that, one day, we shall get the Orange box working.


And we had a visit from a Purple Emperor butterfly. I grabbed the little Lumix pocket camera and tried a few shots (the butterfly was obligingly still). Not good until I turned the auto-flash off. The deep purple colouring on the upper wings need just the right lighting to show up, and flash ain't it!


But that is.

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

about generalisations.

I was reading in "La Folie" in the on-line Telegraph Expatriate edition of the strange impression that the resident's neighbours have of England and the English. It made interesting reading. It seems many of them had never been to the coast, so crossing it was out of the question. Where they got their information is anyone's guess, but they have the impression that England - particularly rural England - hasn't changed since the 1950s. Funnily enough, the comment I receive from a number of our visitors is that this part of France is like rural England in the 1950s.

On that note, whilst talking with my neighbour last week, the subject turned to channel crossings, the Channel Tunnel and, inevitably, the irrational fear that was prevalent at the time it was being built that rabies would be brought in by armies of foxes and the like travelling the 27 odd miles under the channel. Apparently, there are pockets of France (not here) where rabies is coming back after having been eradicated, and work is under way to prevent the spread and rid the country of it once more. What threw me is that my neighbour "had heard" that rabies is endemic in England, and that many people die from it each year. I promptly disabused him of this notion, pointed out that the quarantine regulations have always been very strict and very effective, and that the only case of which I had heard was of a lady who had been bitten by a migratory bat. I seem to recall she was working in a bat rescue centre, but am not too sure on that point.

I suppose that myth, along with the one that all we eat is roast beef and fish'n'chips is, in part, a not unreasonable counter to the large number of wholly false opinions of French folk held by Sun and Daily Mail readers.

We have found French country folk to be like country folk worldwide - mostly polite, helpful, friendly, all that kind of stuff - and French city folk to be like city folk everywhere - often rude, abrupt, always in a hurry, "me first", and things like that. Of course, there are significant variations and exceptions to that sweeping generalisation, but that has been my impression based on living in, working in or visiting 34 major cities in 17 countries (plus a lot in the UK, of course).

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On Monday afternoon, I walked Ulysse into Pionsat (3Km each way) to pick up my medications. The pharmacy was waiting for a delivery, on which was one of my prescription items, of which they had run out. I was happy to take the one they had (the most important one, of which my remaining stock was zero) and return for the other, of which I had about ten days' supply at home. They said they would deal with it, and look what was in the post on Tuesday morning:


Yup - a pharmacy bag with my missing pills in it.

That is what I call service.

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Flash has been a bit like the weather this week - started off very well but finished on a low. He was on terrific form on Monday. Whilst I was cutting the grass he was almost running down the garden, with Ulysse in pursuit. Flash has been mostly avoiding any hard food for months - we believed because his teeth are a tad manky - and it is most unusual for him to move at more than a slow walk. Here he was though, trotting down with Ulysse in tow, the latter trying to recover the hide chew that Flash had appropriated.


Flash is enlarged in this picture and can clearly be seen to be chewing something.

The end of Flash's week was less happy than the beginning, and we think we may need to get him to the vet again. I plan to take the Astra to Paris to pick up Tania's dogs again on Monday/Tuesday, so it will be Wednesday before we can get Flash to the vet.

Speaking of the garden - I shan't say too much, as that is the subject of Clare's blog - but doesn't the apple tree look well?

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On Wednesday, I had occasion to lift one of the inspection covers on the septic tank. Worryingly, the scum that collects on the top - oils, fats etc. - is solid. Solid like concrete. It is about time for the tank to be maintained (cleaned, emptied, whatever they do with it), so I checked all three inspection covers. The scum beneath all of them is solid.

Checking the three was no mean feat either. When the terrace was built, I asked for a trapdoor above each inspection cover. The guy who was helping Rik with it decided that one trapdoor, centrally placed, would be enough. It is fine for two of the inspection covers, but trying to get to the third is rather like trying to escape from Colditz Castle. The land beneath the terrace slopes and, over the roughly two and a half metres travel from the trapdoor to the inspection cover, the height of the terrace above the land drops from about 80cm to less than 50cm. We have decided, before calling the guys in to do the tank, to create another trapdoor above the third inspection cover. I shall start it when I return from Paris and, if I mess up, I shall ask Rik to put it right for me.

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Gazebo placebo, rain again, and bird turd

You will recall from last week that the week started with my birthday. I was all in favour of letting it drift by un-noticed, but Pete and Marcia decided otherwise.

The first thing I noticed was that the gate that Peter had made was adorned (fortunately on the inside) telling all and sundry (on the inside) that I had just become a sexagenarian. Didn't expect to become one of those at my age, but what can you do? At least I qualify for a senior rail card now!


We had invited a few friends and neighbours for a quite drink and snack in the afternoon and, unknown to me, our visitors had bought nibbles and things. As it turned out, there was the beginnings of a thunderstorm on Sunday morning. We decided that, rather than move all the stuff into the annexe, we would erect the gazebo on the terrace. Very handily, the terrace is 3.5m wide inside the balustrade, and the gazebo is three metres square. Quite a good fit, and I thought it looked quite good.


We hadn't invited many people; Rik and his family arrived first and, just as we were settling into a nice chat with them, Pierre from across the road arrived with his wife, daughter and grand-daughter. We had a nice long chat and finally, after three years, established a decent relationship with them. We had both spoken with Pierre occasionally, but had not had a conversation with his wife, Martine, beyond brief pleasantries. Small mistake. When I introduced Rik and his family to Pierre, I referred to them as Dutch. They are Belgian. My first senior moment as a sexagenarian? Maybe, but not the last, I'll warrant!

A little later, after Rik and Pierre and their respective families had gone, Jean-Marc, who has the land and buildings at the bottom of the garden, dropped in for a short while.

Jean-Marc has an enormous task ahead of him, renovating the buildings on that land. He has made a start by doing up the garage and making it into a very usable chalet. He is also developing a couple of vegetable growing areas that, in addition to being a credit to him, make ours look less good than we would like to think them to be.

In the interests of good neighbourliness, I must point out that the fact that he lives at the bottom of our garden does not suggest he is a fairy!


The weather actually remained dry all afternoon. Shortly after everyone had left and we had taken down and stowed the gazebo, etc., this happened


Food on the table looked good earlier, but rain on the table has its charms

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The half-harvested field I mentioned last week is now looking better. We discovered that the ride-on, set in mulching mode and at its highest setting, could handle some of the cut grass, redistributing it and holding the still growing grass down a bit. Probably three or four cuts of that kind will deal with it.


Meanwhile, it is not looking too bad and it is manageable!

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A few other events have taken place that are possibly worthy of note.

The hot, dry weather, interspersed with cloud and rain, produces some fabulous sunsets.


Pete and Marcia left us on Friday and confirmed that they had a safe, uneventful journey back. The house seems a little empty now.

They did not before the new phones had arrived - these to replace the two DECT phones that had died as a result of a thunderstorm. This is a set of three. We have placed the master base in the study, the other two in the main bedroom and front room


The main handset, with the pretty coloured screen and the oh-so-trendy polyphonic ring tones (the one we have chosen is a really über-cool jazz trumpet thing) is in the front room. We are, so far, very pleased with this set.

Rafaël, Rik's son, had a problem with his computer - it looks like a Windows Vista update put it into a loop that prevented it from starting. A couple of hours work on the web gave me some areas in which I could look, and it now seems to be OK. Don't you just love Vista? Roll on Windows 7 - let's hope it will be quick, stable, usable, stable, effective and stable. I do still believe, though, that the only people ever to have stable software are horse-breeders!

I have been asked to prepare a web site for a local small business (a fellow auto-entrepreneur) - that quote is under preparation. Meanwhile, I finally heard from an organisation in Ireland that had asked me to quote for the redesign of their site that, although they were impressed with my quote, they preferred to try someone more local. I can fully understand that.

I took a look in the septic tank this afternoon, as a result of which I am not a happy sexagenarian. The sludge that accumulates on top of the water, which is made up of grease, oil and the like, is solid! I am sure it is not meant to be. I shall have to find a suitable man to look at it and do whatever is necessary to restore it to health.

And finally, a couple of birdy things. This first one popped in to the study for a visit. Left a present on my monitor as it was finding its way out..


So have a couple of hornets in the past few days! I have found that a standard uplighter will adequately barbecue a hornet trapped between it and the ceiling (lots of smoke though, and smells a bit like significantly overcooked susages; like a barbecue, en effet), and mesh strategically placed in the window opening stops the blighters coming into the room in the first place.

The second birdy picture is simple a snapshot of the first baby swallow to appear outside this year. There are currently three nests in use (that we know of), at least one of which has young that should be fledging soon. The others are in earlier stages - one of them is still under construction.


Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Friends to stay, harvesting the lawn, and our own flying display

What am I doing updating my blog on my birthday? A very good question, and one that can only be answered with "because that's the kind of thing I do". So, here goes.

Pretty good week for weather. It started kind of dull, but by mid-week we were basking in high temperatures and wall-to-wall sunshine.

The scythe mower arrived on Tuesday, I assembled it (with a lot of help from Pete) and it was soon ready to work. Incidentally, on a trip to Montluçon later in the week we found that we could have bought the same model from Mr Bricolage, fully assembled and ready to go. Including delivery charges, it would have cost a little over one thousand euros - 43% more than I paid for it. To my mind, two men working for the better part of an hour is OK if it saves over three hundred euros!

A quick set of photographs to set the scene.

1. before


2. during


3. after


We experienced only two mishaps during the cutting - three if you include nearly losing the machine in the pond. The first misadventure surrounded the curious case of the disappearing plum tree. When cutting long grass, as the "during" photo shows, the operator cannot see the blade. Whilst trimming around the new plum tree - the one that was, in its first full year, proving willing to bear fruit - it suddenly fell down. I felt no resistance, even though its trunk was about 4cm thick near the base. It seems that when they say it can cut thick undergrowth and it is good in orchards they did not mention that it was a good forestry device, too! I shall devise a method of signalling the outside edges of the blade to stop it happening again.

The second issue was when a screw holding a crucial part of the cutter drive mechanism decided to go AWOL. It presumably hadn't been sufficiently tightened, and we didn't spot that. That part was pre-assembled, so NOT OUR FAULT! No way were we going to find it, so we had to replace it. It was, for those who care, a M8 x 20mm socket head cap screw. I don't have any of those. Pete and I hot-footed it to Montluçon and headed for Brico Depot. It seems to be more trade and serious DIYer oriented than does Mr Bricolage, which always seems to me to be more aligned to the home beautification market. Brico Depot had no socket head cap screws, neither could they confidently name a supplier, but suggested we try Mr Bricolage. I chuckled.

Mr Bricolage had no M8 x 20mm socket head cap screws, but did have some M8 x 60mm socket head cap screws. We bought some and wondered why we didn't try to find an engineering place (even the local garage). We got home with the screws and promptly attacked one of them with an angle grinder and a few other instruments of torture so it could fit in the space vacated by its predecessor. Back to work in half an hour. In case this is a screw that can vibrate loose - it does have a lot of vibration to put up with - I shall attempt to get hold of a quantity of them.

The entire area is now done, and all we need to do now is gather the cuttings. Currently it looks like a half-harvested field!

Whilst all this was going on, Clare and Marcia were doing flowery fruity gardeny stuff, and I happened to mention that I wanted a gate at the back, to give direct access to the terrace area.


Peter's hay fever stopped him from becoming involved in the harvest, but he did set about making a gate. Thanks Peter!


I would like to be able to say that Peter did the whole thing single handed, except that would be an untruth. I happened to sneak a look into the workshop whilst he was in there, and ...

... I saw him using both hands!

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In the hope that the weather would stay good, we invited a few people to pop in on Sunday afternoon for a couple of drinks and a chat. Nothing excessive - no big party or anything, just few friends.

On Saturday afternoon we went across to the tip at St Eloy to see the Black Kites. There is something not quite wholesome about pulling up near a tip and getting out cameras and binoculars. But that is what we did and, to prove it, here I am with my long lens.


There were probably a couple of dozen kites, about 200 metres from us. Mostly they were down very low against a background that made photographing them difficult. We did get a few shots, though.

This is a young bird in very good feather


whilst tis older bird is showing signs of wear. This is possibly a brooding female who needs now to have a damned good moult!


Although they were mostly quite low, we were treated to the occasional spectacular stoop.


The pre-birthday finished up with dinner at the hotel À la Queue du Milan in Pionsat. The name means "at the Kite's tail" and reflects the fact that, from the air, that part of the town's outline resembles a kite's forked tail, and the hotel is in the middle of it.

It is a very fine establishment, the chef is a bit of a genius, and a jolly good time was had by all.

And finally - what do you think of our new rescuing dog?


Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Sizzling sun, robust rain, poorly pooch ... and new toys

What a fabulous week - temperatures in the mid- to high-twenties and wall to wall sunshine from the beginning of the week, right up until Thursday evening.

.. and then it rained!

Completely out of the blue and during daylight hours, there was a flash of lightning that, from inside the house, seemed as though someone had taken a flash photograph in the room in which we were. That was followed in very short order by a peal of thunder that sounded as though its origin were quite close.

I, of course, ran upstairs and unplugged everything but, alas, not everything was saved. From that point on, the DECT telephone in our bedroom and its slave in the lounge were putting out a lot of crackling, although we could hear the other party over it. The trouble is, the other party couldn't hear us. They have been declared dead, and we have put the simple wall phone back in the séjour. There is now no phone in the bedroom, but we have the portable in the study.

On the grass cutting front, the axle clamp for the Toro arrived on Thursday. That machine is now back in use, and we were able to tidy up the front of the house. The new scythe-mower will, according to UPS, be delivered on Tuesday. Let's hope the rain leaves us before then.

We were becoming concerned over the last weekend about a lump in Flash's throat, and decided the vet should see it. Monday being Pentecost Monday, there was no vet's surgery, so we took him on Tuesday. Neither our regular vet, nor the senior partner, could say what it was, so they took some blood which we dropped off at the lab early Tuesday afternoon. The vet called on Tuesday evening to tell us that the tests didn't indicate anything about the lump, but did show Flash to be in kidney failure, so we were to bring him in early Wednesday morning and leave him for the day whilst they flushed his kidneys. When we collected him on Wednesday evening he seemed in good spirits. They had flushed his kidneys, trimmed his claws (at our request) and looked at his lump, which seemed to be full of some kind of fluid tinged with blood. They sent a sample of the fluid to a lab for analysis and we should have the results sometime during the coming week. We are hoping it isn't a malignant tumour!

Flash benefitted greatly from having his kidneys flushed - he is now eating a little better and seems to be less lethargic. However, he has, since then, had a couple of what appear to be episodes of extreme pain lasting two or three minutes. He pants quite hard, his lower jaw trembles and his tongue hangs like in anaesthesia. It might even be a mild fit - we just don't know. Ulysse, being a Wire Fox Terrier, is prone to epileptic fits, but his are not mild, so we really can't use them as a basis for comparison. We shall try to hold off taking Flash to the vet until the test results come back. Having said that, we are not going to let him suffer periodic extreme pain, if indeed that is what it is.

With Marcia and Pete arriving on Saturday evening, we had to make some hasty decisions about the configuration of the séjour and annexe. The final decision (which may change) is that the annexe will make a fine dining room, especially if we can cut a door between it and the lounge, and the séjour can stay as it is. The pictures tell the story. Remember, there is still much to be done to complete the dining room.



Marcia and Pete arrived at about 10pm on Saturday after a relatively uneventful drive from Caen. We soon set about a challenge on the Wii (where, incidentally, the sport game put my age at 20 on Wednesday, the lowest and therefore 'perfect' age - I am normally between 23 and 28), and Marcia produced a helium filled balloon for me, saying it wouldn't last until next Sunday. I wouldn't have minded - I am in complete denial about the whole 60 thing!


Last week, I made the point that if one has to have a barbecue, the view needs to be special. The view I showed was, of course, to the south-east. In case you were wondering, it needs to be complemented by a view like this in the other direction.


Have a good week.

À la prochaine

If all we have to worry about is cutting the grass ...

It is a little known fact, but a fact nonetheless, that many dogs have Thespian aspirations. I have come across what can only be photographs from the dogs' portfolios that they take to auditions and the like. See what you think.

Here, Tinkerbell was auditioning for the part of a bat-eared fox in an African version of The Jungle Book:


Flash has tried out for a number of rôles. There was the part he was after in Bambi:


He went for the job of a Grizzly Bear in a The Call of the Wild, but failed for being too skinny - and too pale (that was in the days before PC):


and this. I'm not sure whether he was after a part in Gremlins III or whether he fancied himself as Yoda:


Either way, he didn't get the job.

For his part, Ulysse put in a bid for the title rôle in Driving Miss Daisy:


... and failed. I think he exhausted all of his options, and exhausted himself in the process!


Meanwhile, back to the saga of cutting the grass.

On Monday, having successfully repaired the tractor, we had a go at cutting the grass which, as this picture shows, is becoming quite tall (or long - take your pick). Sadly, it was just too long for the tractor, jamming it up and requiring it to be cleaned out every twenty metres or so.


We decided to see what we could do with the Toro. It threw its front axle, and lost one of the axle clamps. A replacement is on order, with no clear indication of when it will arrive. The Toro is unusable until it does.

So here is the quandary. We have better than a half acre of meadow grass that is getting longer by the day. The weather is ideal for cutting. Were the area suitable and access good enough, I would try to get the farmer to come in, cut it, bale it and have it for his cattle. It isn't, it isn't, and I can't. I do not wish to dip into our dwindling savings to buy a tractor that will do it (not the 2350€ one - that won't deal with such long grass - it would need to be a 7500€ one). I do not wish to do the whole area with a strimmer. That leaves one choice, which I have set in motion. I am hoping, before too long, to take delivery of a scythe-mower, as described here and pictured below.


Described as "A robust, powerful 'specialist' machine which can cut grass as cleanly as it does thick undergrowth. Optimum benefits are to be gained from use in paddocks and orchards, as well as wild meadows. Intended for use in recreational areas and is particularly suitable for use on larger plots of land.", it sounds as if it was specified for our situation.

The big surprise for me is the price. Delivered here from Germany, its cost at today's exchange rate, is about 20% less than the quoted UK price. It is still a lot of money, but is a great deal less than replacing the tractor. We have at least three or four occasions each year when the tractor really struggles and is possibly being damaged by the way we have to use it, and there are a few areas where the tractor just will not go, but where I anticipate this beast will.

Fingers crossed. We need it, and we need it to work!


I travelled to Paris again on Wednesday to return Tania's dogs to her. It is a long drive. Allowing for road works and stops for the dogs to exercise and for me to eat, it took five hours. It was dry but overcast. I had thought about taking them in the MX5, but I'm not as certain as with the Astra that it would manage a 750Km round trip without incident. There is still a question mark over the clutch linkage. The Astra also gave more room for the dogs, and is more secure when parked on-street in Paris. The only excitement on the way was when I saw some Marsh Harriers near the road; three separate sightings, two male and one female.

The return trip on Thursday was equally uneventful - only four and a half hours this time. The excitement on this trip was seeing, perched atop a fence post at the side of the autoroute, a buzzard which was so pale that, were it not for the shape, it could be mistaken for a male Barn Owl.

Whilst I was in Paris, the weather was dull, but our area was in brilliant sunshine. This has continued since my return. We have been out in the MX5 with the roof off a few times now - two trips to Montluçon to buy stuff, and I took Ulysse to the lake yesterday. It is superb.

If only I could cut the grass. We have some very good friends coming next weekend (I hope they know that they will have to watch the Turkish Grand Prix) and we want the whole place to look nice for their arrival.

We have eaten on the terrace a few times in this glorious weather, and I shall leave you with an image of the view we have from the terrace. If you are going to have a barbecue, you have to have a view like this to complement it.


Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Troubled tractors and dirty dogs

I have to say that the week started wonderfully. Warm and dry, if not completely sunny. On Monday afternoon I decided it was high time I had another go at cutting the grass - it was almost a foot high in places and the ground seemed firm and dry enough. The only trouble is that it was still, over part of the area, damp from the overnight dew which, in the absence of good sunshine, often hangs around nearly all day. Nonetheless, I started. I set the blades to level five - next to the highest - which, unless everything is totally dry, is enough to keep it under control. In fact, I have never gone lower than four, as the uneven nature of the ground, aided by the moles and their allies, would mean that I would be spending a lot of my time trimming soil!

I had achieved no more then one third of the first circuit when it was apparent that it wasn't going to cope at level five, so I upped it to level six - its highest setting, went back to the shed and cleaned the cutter shroud. I restarted where I had left off and did another third of the first circuit (it takes about twenty-five to do the whole thing, a bit over two hours when things go well) when it jammed up again. Frequently, when the blades jam, I can disengage them, move to a clean area, and re-engage them, which forces out much of the grass that has clogged them. I tried that. It didn't work. No grass cuttings came from the cutter area. What did come from the cutter area were some unusual and not too pleasant noises, smells of burning rubber and a lot - and I mean a lot - of thick, acrid, black smoke.

Do you ever get the feeling that all is not well? I did then. I hastily disengaged the cutter drive and drove the mower back to the cleaning area. As I was cleaning it, I noticed the left-hand blade was spinning freely. This, I decided, was not right. Tractor back to its garage.

On Tuesday afternoon, whilst Clare was out, I was cutting the front grass and the sides of the road with the other mower [link] and stopped for a quick chat with Pierre, who was out doing likewise. We talked about grass, weather and the usual stuff, and I told him that my ride-on (tracteur-tondeuse or tondeuse autoportée, or just autoportée in French) was in trouble, that I thought the cutter drive belt was either displaced or broken. I asked if he knew of a local repair man. It seems there is a man in Pionsat, but he only does Husqvarna - which I could never afford - and another in St Hilaire, just up the road, who does that kind of thing. He then ran off and came back some minutes later with a name and telephone number.

Wednesday seemed to get away from us and I didn't call the man. As Thursday was a public holiday (Ascension Day) I didn't call then either.

On Friday, another lovely, hot, sunny day, I decided it was "have a go" day, so gathered the tools I thought I would need and set about trying to see what was wrong with the accursed machine. Having successfully realigned the main drive belt a couple of years ago [link] I thought it worth trying this one, too. It looks easy in the book. The book doesn't have to do it! The book has drawings of the various components. They are clean. Real life isn't.

I eventually got the shroud off, so I could see the assembly. Somehow, the area was full of very dry grass cuttings; goodness only knows how they got in, but I must have removed at least a cubic foot of them. I could then see what the problem was. On the left side, the belt had jumped off its pulley and was tight against the pillar. That explains the noise, smell and smoke. When the belt was moving, instead of turning the pulley, it was rubbing hard against the fixed pillar! Next problem? How to move the belt back up to the pulley. The belt was tight against a 1" diameter pillar, and needed to be eased up onto a 4" diameter pulley. After a lot of thought, I removed the step (which turns out to be an important part of the structure) and attacked it with a couple of crowbars - that did the trick.

Pierre chanced by as I was doing the repair, so I called him in to show him what the problem was. We talked around it for a whie and, before going, he told me that the forecast was for thunderstorms during the evening. Happily, they didn't come.

A bit later it was reassembled, tested and (fingers crossed) lives to fight another day without having to pay a professional a shedload of cash.


Whilst the machine was out of commission, and before I fixed it, we were questioning whether it is really up to the job. Sure, when I bought it, I checked its specs - it is said to be good for 3000 sq m of grass, against the 2000 or so we have, and I specified to the salesman that our land was uneven and rugged. However, there are various indications that we are asking too much of it. I identified a machine I should like to replace it [link] - all I need now is someone to sponsor me to the tune of 2350€ (£2100 at today's stupid rate) so I can buy it!

The fruit trees are continuing to do well - those that we can see through the rising jungle - with peaches, pears, apricots, kiwi, black- and red-currants, gooseberries, raspberries, strawberries, apples, mirabelles, plums and cherries all looking good. One of the pear trees is black with ants so we don't expect that to develop fruit to ripeness. Next year I think we shall need to try a more aggressive approach to protection against insect pests. A few pictures of the current state of

cherries,


gooseberries,


apples


and peaches


We still have Tania's dogs with us, and they are still behaving reasonably well.

For us humans, entering the kitchen to prepare food is a little fraught


the blighters have expectations - or at least aspirations. This is the opposite to the street beggars we have all come to love; this is totally passive begging - standing quietly looking up with coy, pleading eyes in the manner perfected by Princess (expletives deleted) Diana.

They continue to get on well together, sharing beds,


and rides,


starting off clean,


having a lot of fun in the sun

and ending up filthy!


I wonder if we can get her clean before I have to take them back on Wednesday.

Spare a thought for me today. As I am sat inside in my airless study at 30.2°C and 49% humidity, it is brilliant sunshine outside, over 30°C and bloody lovely.

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

A dog of a week, all things considered

Another mixed batch of weather this week - enough warmth and sunshine to permit some outdoor activity, and enough rain to ensure that the grass can continue to grow unhindered. The odd rumble of thunder, including a couple quite close, have had me running around unplugging things like computers and ADSL modems to prevent the risk of damage from lightning or static burst.

This week's walk around the orchard showed the fruits to be coming on nicely, and here are a few pictures to prove it. Subject to the goodwill of the weather, insects, birds and whatever it was ate all the cherries last year, we are looking set for (amongst others) :

Peaches


Apricots


Gooseberries


Pears


and blackcurrants


Of all of which, I feel sure we shall speak at a later date.

Now for the dogs. I am delighted to say that they are all getting on very well together.

Ulysse continues to establish his position as alpha male and third in command of the pack (after me and Clare). Flash has never questioned that - he knows he is no longer up to the job. Tinkerbell is small and submissive, and Shitsu, at ten months, has yet to assimilate how pecking orders work, although she does show proper respect to Ulysse and, more particularly, to Flash.


Like all young animals, she needs to learn about group living and hierarchies. As this picture shows, her ongoing education has been continued by being sat down in front of a number of episodes of The Dog Whisperer.


She and Ulysse are getting into some tremendous pulling games, which they are now initiating themselves without any intervention from us. The trouble is, they mostly happen on the tiled floor, where neither dog can achieve any real purchase


although, as this video clip shows, they all started in the front garden on grass, where Ulysse's weight advantage (he is about three times her weight) came into play.



I was awakened on Saturday morning by Flash padding around the bedroom, wanting to go outside. At 5am! I could have killed him - he refused to go outside for a pee before coming to bed, as it was raining (bless), but he wanted to go at 5am.

A word of advice. If you have to have an old dog, make it a small one. When Ulysse becomes old and less mobile, it will be easy enough. Flash is 23Kg (should be 25Kg). He has, for twelve of his fourteen years, always slept in our room and been close to us. He isn't going to change that. He has trouble with our stairs and usually refuses to climb them in either direction. He has suffered a number of falls on the stairs and his confidence has left him. We therefore need to carry him up to bed, and usually down again. When I am in the study, he frequently like to be here with me - that's two flights of stairs on which he needs to be manhandled.

When I awoke, I noticed a constant sound that I couldn't identify - I couldn't even say for sure from which direction it was coming. It was a kind of white noise, if you know what I mean. After I had carried Flash downstairs and kicked his sorry ass out of the door, I went white noise hunting.

Eventually, I narrowed it down to the cellar and, in particular, to the water system in the cellar. I became aware that water was moving through the system when none should have been. I turned off the feed to the outside front, and the noise stopped. Mystery solved.

I later traced the leak, for such it was, to the room under the garage where the swallows breed. A joint in some pipework feeding a tap in there (one we never use) was leaky. There is a valve behind that joint, so I closed that, went back and checked, and everything seemed fine.

Fine, that is, until Clare informed me that the tap next to the old outside toilet wasn't delivering. The Interesting thing is that the valve I turned off was on a spur that led only to the tap in that room.

A new mystery.

I shall let you know next week if I manage to solve that one.

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

I loathe Paris in the springtime

... and I'm not ashamed to say
I loathe Paris
Why, oh why do I loathe Paris?
'Cos it's so far away
(with apologies to Cole Porter)

At the beginning of the week, when it was sunny, I took a walk around the trees to see what progress was like. I was not unimpressed. Many of the trees are showing the early signs of fruiting. We now need decent weather and protection against insects, birds, and whatever it was ate all the cherries last year [link].

So far, though, all the soft fruits are looking good, like this blackcurrant.


The vinous kiwi fruit looks set to yield some fruit this year,


whilst the apricot looks ready to give its first harvest,


as does this pear.


All in all, a promising start.

.. and then it rained!

I had to go to Paris on Friday to collect Tania's two dogs. She is off to Cannes for a couple of weeks for her job, and asked us if we could look after her pair for her. Naturally, we are quite happy to do that - her dogs get on well with ours (probably better than they do with each other), and it gives ours some extra company for a couple of weeks. One of us will need to take them back at the end of the month - we shall decide later who should do it.

The drive to Paris takes, including a short stop for fuel for driver and car, approaching four hours. Much of it is autoroute which is quick, efficient, and BORING! And, having reached there, one then has to turn round and drive back again. I set off after a hearty breakfast late on Friday morning and returned on Saturday afternoon. Whichever of us does the return trip will most likely do something similar.

You probably know that we have a track record of, shall we say, sturdy dogs. Hobie was overweight all his life, and that we are calling Ulysse Podge speaks for itself.

Words cannot describe, therefore, how good I felt when I saw a poodle with a French couple in the car park at a picnic stop on the autoroute. I think it was a poodle - the head looked decidedly canine and of the poodle race. The body, however, was more ovine, prompting me to believe I may have discovered the original sheep-dog!


It even looks as though it is grazing in the car park.

That apart, the Paris trip was uneventful. Tania is always a good hostess and, although she had to work Friday night, we went out for a bite to eat and met up with Zoë (which is always nice), before Tania had to get ready for work. I had no real desire to do the Paris night scene, so I sat through the entire third season of Weeds on DVD, with two diminutive canines for company.

Saturday morning we took the dogs to the vet - Tinkerbell (Chihuahua) needed some vaccinations - and they were both treated with flea and tick repellant. It is as well, as we have already found ticks on our dogs this year, and I don't know how Tinkerbell and Shitsu (of that breed) would cope with such unwelcome visitors, to say nothing of their removal. After crèpes, we loaded various things and dogs into the car and I set off. Thankfully, it was again an uneventful journey.

I now have two requests for web sites - one is new and the other a redesign. Quotes are under preparation.

A couple of doggy pics to end up with.

First, Shitsu and the Podge are getting along OK


whilst Tinkerbell seems to think the insulated shopping bag is a nice nest!


Meanwhile, I have a serious job to do - I must cheer on our Jensen!

Have a good week.

À la prochaine

Foggy fête, armchair adjustments, stupendous scenery and growing grass

As promised, we went to the village last Sunday afternoon, to have a look at the Fête de la Saint Georges celebrations.

Sadly, Sunday was the most miserable April day in the whole, long history of miserable April days - incessant drizzle and sporadic fog.

The good folk of St Maigner put on a sterling show, recreating village life in 1909, but a lot of what should have happened in the open was hastily relocated inside, which spoiled the atmosphere. This is our third St George's Day in France, and the first that has not been gloriously sunny and warm, veering on hot. Last year's was the one to remember, as it was the day before my futile attempt at weight loss by having part of my ear removed.

Here are a few images from the St George's Day celebrations.




On Tuesday, Clare had a group of ladies around for a craft afternoon - paper making, felt making, that kind of stuff. I remained at a safe distance - two floors up in the study. The afternoon went well and is likely to be repeated.

To make it easier, we decided in advance to move the dining table and chairs and the table from the terrace into the annexe, first clearing out the sofas and so on, which we moved into the séjour, where the dining table normally lives. We have half a plan to convert the annexe into a dining room, cutting a doorway between it and the séjour, so this gave us the opportunity to try a few configurations in the séjour, to see how it would look. I am not displeased.


Thursday afternoon's ladies and dogs walk was cancelled by the lady who was due to host it, as her daughter was unwell. We decided to do our own, so bundled the dogs into the car (OK, we lifted Flash in, but every time any of the car doors is opened, Ulysse is in before you can say 'Flash') and drove to the viaduct at La Celette. This is one of our favourite places to take the dogs, as it is quiet, safe and very pretty. Generally, we make a comparatively short walk, in deference to Flash's limited abilities, but this time we ventured much further.

We reached a point where Flash was tiring, so Clare stopped with him and admired some of the wild flowers, a couple of which we pictured for later identification.



Meanwhile, Ulysse and I carried on for another ten minutes or so before returning.


The outlook from this route is superb - somewhat flat for the area, but extremely pleasant nonetheless. Whenever we look at the local scenery we need to pinch ourselves, and remind ourselves that


Whilst all this was going on, we were waiting for the ground to dry out, and for the weather to stay dry for a few days so we could attack the grass. It was dry enough on Friday, but we noticed that, it being Workers' Day, no work was being done anywhere, so we didn't want to stick out like a sore thumb by having mowers and stuff making noise. The cut finally happened on Saturday, and we are very pleased with the result


Meanwhile, I did a couple of pictures of Ulysse before and after his trim. What is interesting is that they were taken less then three weeks apart - but look at how much the jungle grew in that short time. This is the area where we feed the wild birds, and a lot of their seed ends up on the ground - goodness only knows what all these plants are!


And finally - whilst following some threads of research in connection with my TESOL studies, I came across a video clip that really made me laugh. Give it a go - see what you think.



Have a good week.

À la prochaine