Chocolate and Cuckoos

NEW BEGINNINGS

2009-01-26T16:34:00.006+01:00

This is will be my last post here as I have now moved to the typepad site and have created a blog today called dragondays. I can't get the link to work though. Will try adding it later.

http:/dragondays.wordpress.com

This link won't work but scroll down a little and you have it linked on the right ...

TIME FOR AN UPDATE

2008-08-06T19:31:00.007+02:00

Five months between blogs is too long ... I started this blog with good intentions and things are going from bad to worse! Since my blog on the frozen wastes of St. Petersburg in February, G and I have done a fair bit of travelling and have contributed a mega carbon footprint to the Planet which is nothing to be proud of ... we returned to Brussels last night from Ireland and I am definitely not moving from the house in the forseeable future - even my wee Scottish gentleman is wondering who I am.

After our rapid and sad trip down to the Pyrenées to attend my ex-husband's funeral, we have been to England to assist at the wedding of G's son in Somerset and celebrate my mum's 80th birthday, we spent ten days down in Brittany near Quimper which was lovely - lots of exploring, too many crêpes and masses of seafood and we have just returned from ten days in Co. Mayo in Ireland - a country that I have never before visited. A wonderfully wild place with some of the best salmon fishing in the world, miles and miles of peat bogs, lakes and lashings of rain! It is green - and the 'Emerald Isle' suits its name perfectly. The Irish are very charming and welcoming and very easy to get chatting to (especially over a few pints of Guinness!) although I found the accent a little difficult at times. We had hoped to do quite a lot of walking over there but two days before leaving I fell on the garden steps and managed to turn my left thigh and my right foot into a purple/green/yellow rainbow, so the first few days I was hobbling around feeling sorry for myself. So instead of walking we drove around the whole of Co. Mayo, visiting ruins of churches, abbeys, peat bogs, the wild Altantic coast so that I could get a feel of the country.

G went fishing one day and returned with a (rather small) brown trout that we hadn't the heart to eat and which I hope is not still sitting in th hotel 'fridge! We spent a morning in Ballana watching the salmon starting to make their way upstream which was most impressive - there wasn't enough water in the River Moy (despite the rain) so they were congregating in the pools under the weir, waiting for the water level to rise - I have never seen so many salmon leaping out of the water and we witnessed a guy catching a salmon which I have never seen before - he put it back in the river as he normally catches about six a day, so salmon is a rather boring food for him!

And now we are back to the tropical heat of Brussels - today it has been 30 degrees which after Co. Mayo and its copious rain is quite an impressive temperature. Wee Angus has been collected from the kennels, happy and content to see us and smelling like nothing on earth, so it's bath time for him tomorrow before we all pass out!

And the best thing that has happened to me in the last couple of months? Guess ... ? G asked this grumpy old woman if she wanted to marry him, and she accepted! So a wedding probably in December here in Brussels and all our decomposed families are suddenly in the process of being recomposed - wonderful!

WHAT IS GOING ON?

2008-03-22T08:26:00.005+01:00

Goodness - not a squeak from me since our trip to New York! A quick run-down on the last five months ... Christmas first of all with 14 of us gathering in Switzerland for a week of eating, drinking, skiing, family feuding and over-excited children; the usual sort of stuff and G of course being thrown into my family. This is somewhat like being hit head-on by a runaway train! 24 hours grace which gave me time to wash sheets and towels and dig out from under the sofa remnents of wrapping paper, chocolates and a couple of marrow bones belonging to Angus and the next lot arrived for a week ... by the 8th January when everyone left I just wanted to lock the door, take the phone off the hook and sleep for 2 days.

However, this was not to be - four days later the car had been filled to the gills for a nine hour drive to Brussels to take possession of the new house. G had sort of packed up his old house - he had pulled everything off the shelves and faced by chaos, had given up. But with help of friends, a wonderful Polish guy with a van and me, of course, he moved out and into the house (the garage is still full of what I class as rubbish but its days are numbered!). Beds hadn't been delivered so we spent a few days sleeping on a mattress on the floor, the heating played up and the dishwasher was dead, but apart from that all went well. The beds arrived but we couldn't get them up the stairs, so for three days they filled up the hall until the guy with the hoist arrived to put them in through the second floor window. The usual moving stories!

A couple of weeks of scrabbling round in packing cases, washing up by hand waiting for the new dishwasher to arrive and problems with internet connections and G whisked me off to St. Petersburg for Valentines - most romantic ... not! A beautiful city most certainly - the sheer size of the buildings and the enormous squares and parks are quite, quite breathtaking, but the Russians still have much to learn in the hospitality business. We found them surly and indifferent and despite all the rubbish one reads in the papers, Russia is not yet 'European' although the prices are! Of course the language was our biggest handicap and despite all our efforts to trot our our four words of Russian, it never raised a smile. I must admit I had expected museums to have explications in Russian and English - no way, and when you can't understand/don't know what you are looking at, you miss an awful lot.

We wanted to eat Russian food ... everywhere serves European food which is often excellent, but one doesn't go abroad to eat what you have at home; we wanted to drink Russian wine - embargo on Georgia so all wine is French, American, Australian. We did find some Russian beer though. On the couple of times we managed to eat Russian, we regretted it most bitterly, so plumped for French/Italian food.

And it was cold - bitterly cold. You face froze in a couple of minutes. We knew it would be, but it was the wind that really got to us and as we did all our visiting on foot (not able to read the bus signs!) we were frozen most of the time. So not one of our most successful jaunts - everyone said we should come back for the White Nights in June, but I think this is just a massive piss-up and we have other places to go to ...

On a sad note, my ex-husband died unexpectedly last week of a stroke - so everything was dropped, the son was put on a plane from Geneva to Brussels and the three of us drove to the south-west of France for the funeral - 2400km return trip over 48 hours. My children are of course heartbroken at losing their father at the age of 58, I am worried for them but I think my mourning was done when we separated and divorced. A very sad time, but a 'good' funeral on a lovely spring day ...

Little did G know when he contacted me on the internet dating site that he would find himself with a rather loopy English woman, her dour and rather smelly Scottish terrier and now a rather laconic 16 year-old. He is a courageous man!

NEW YORK, NEW YORK

2007-11-05T19:59:00.000+01:00

Back from what must be the most fun city in the world, and a quick scribble before I'm off again to Brussels this weekend for a week, signing papers, attending business meetings and above all a trip I hope to Paschendaele for the 11th November rememberence ceremony.

We flew out on American Airlines from Brussels - not one of the most memorable trips in the world - the food was lousey, the seats in cattle class were minute even for skinny me and the staff were obviously just wanting to get back home. But nothing unusual in that! Arrived in New York at lunchtime in the sun and took a shuttle to the appartment we had rented in TriBeCa. We were met by the charming owner who was desperately trying to explain all the details of the flat to me but eventually gave up seeing me sagging at every passing moment! In the end she said 'If you have any problems, ring me or send me an email'.

The appartment was lovely and enormous and although not cheap, it was no more expensive than a good hotel in NY with the added advantage of living in 300m2 and having a kitchen which meant we didn't have to pay for indifferent hotel breakfasts or go out to eat every meal, which can be hard in the evening when you have walked for miles all day, and all you want to do is flop, take a bath and have a boiled egg!

G and I took Pierre with us and a girl the same age as Pierre who is more or less his 'adopted' sister and who lost her father to cancer this summer. This worked out a treat - it meant that we didn't have to trail round shops playing loud rock music, selling a 1000 different styles of jeans and trainers - dollars were thrust at them and they went off on their own. I worried slightly, but in fact they were far better than us at using the subway - one day after visiting the Frick collection we had a subway 'race' home - needless to say they were home a good 15 minutes before us using their route!

We 'did' the sites of course, particularly as A had never been to NY before but I think my favourites on this trip were just strolling through Central Park, the visit to the Frick Collection which is fabulous and our last couple of hours in NY when we took the Staten Island ferry. Food wise, G and I went for dinner at the River Café in Brooklyn one evening, which must have one of the best views in New York - it is just under the Brooklyn Bridge and overlooks southern Manhatten. The food is good, very expensive but is worth it just for the view. We took the children to Buddha's Bar one night which is a totally crazy place - it is lit only by candles so you can't see the menu too well and there is a DJ mixing music at max volume all evening so you can't talk either! Good food though and the kids thought they had died and gone to heaven! We then went on to a very good jazz bar where the volume was turned down slightly! Great lunch also on the dining concourse of Grand Central Station - the boys had chili, A had chinese and I ate kosher - and for under $10 per person for an enormous meal!

Go back? In a flash! We all loved our trip and the icing on the cake was G working his usual charm on the Purser and getting us a free upgrade into Business Class (the children were dumped uncerimoniously in cattle class!). Great food, good wine and champagne and a seat that converted into a bed - bliss! We both arrived in Brussels in fine form, the children were frazzled to say the least!

A couple of photos later on - blogger doesn't want to know at the moment!

GOING, GOING ... GONE!

2007-10-16T16:55:00.000+02:00

Well, not yet! But the decision has been taken - and this is will be my last winter high up in the Swiss Alps. Last week on yet another flying visit to Brussels, G and I found a lovely house to rent and will become the new tenants from mid-December. Apart from the usual criteria of area, size and price, there were a couple of things on my 'must have' list, namely a bit of garden for my little four-legged Scottish friend and an open fire, and both of those have been fulfilled. We also have a garage into the bargain which might take a car if it is not too cluttered with junk and logs for the fire, but which also means that you have a parking space outside - essential in the city.

So, a lot of excitement at the idea of my new life, but quickly dampened by the thought of the horrendous move - yet more packing cases, heavy duty tape, bubble wrap, thick felt tip pens that disappear when you need them and trying to type up the list for Customs at the same time. I can't even vaguely start to prepare a few boxes as all my family are here for Christmas (18 of us!) so I need to have things in the right places - I hasten to add that we are not 18 in this chalet, only 8!

I am of course still totally and hopelessly lost in Brussels but perhaps this is because I am not driving the car - the other day we were in the same area all day driving around and the only way I recognised it was that there was an old Routemaster bus parked on one of the avenues! We must have passed it eight times during the day, but I still couldn't work out how to get back to G's flat. I don't like driving in a city and Brussels has an excellent metro and tram service, so I shall take full advantage of it. The Bruxellois seem to be pretty hot on using their car horns and I am rather frightened of their road system where you cut right across motorway traffic to get onto another road. If I have to take the car in the city, I think I shall practice with G's car and bash the hell out of it and once I know where I am going then I shall use mine!

I am off again up to Brussels on Saturday with my son and then on Monday we all fly to New York for a week. I think this will be my last holiday for quite some time, but after the move I shall insist on going away for a few days at least!

DECISIONS, DECISIONS

2007-09-20T20:14:00.000+02:00

In three days' time, we will celebrate two years of living in the Swiss Alps. Two years that have been fun which has seen the arrival of my first grandson who has just celebrated his first birthday, my daughter growing up and becoming a Mum in her own right, my son going from being a very good skier to a great one and tomorrow sees the six-month anniversary of meeting the new man in my life.

'Meeting' is not quite the word as we actually 'met' on the internet! From the original exchange of emails and 'phone calls, we actually got together to meet up about two months later. During those two months we exchanged literally hundreds of emails, quite a lot of phone calls and eventually decided to meet somewhere 'neutral' and chose Barcelona as G had work down there. Before going any further, G lives in Brussels, so meeting up doesn't just happen like that! We are 800km apart, so we can't just ring each other and say 'Want to go out for dinner this evening?'

Obviously the Barcelona meet up went well as we are still together - but on the plane from Geneva I admit to getting cold feet and wondering if I was totally mad and whether it would be possible to sneak from arrivals to departures without him seeing me and catch the first plane back to Geneva! And then I thought that after these hundreds of emails swopping life history with each other, there is no reason why we should suddenly not get on, and if the worst came to the worst, we were adult enough to spend a couple of days together in Barcelona without one of us causing a major scene!

In the last six months we have met in Switzerland, in Belgium, in Aix-en-Provence, London and have been on holiday to the south of France and Brittany. G has been scrutinised by quite a few members of my family and next week the same fate is reserved for me in England when I meet his family. It sounds quite fun, all these trips round Europe and it is, but often it is only for a weekend when G comes here - we actually managed a fortnight together this summer, a record! And I am starting to hate goodbyes at airports and train stations.

The family and friends all know we met this way and although I admit to being slightly worried about their reactions, everyone thinks it is great. And to prove my point there was an excellent article in the Financial Times on the 4/5 August by Mrs. Moneypenny extolling the virtues - basically what she said was that she had wasted a lot of time falling for men who were possibly obsessive compulsives, had only read one book in their lives, or liked Wagner - the cyberspace can iron out a lot of the 'don't likes' before actually meeting up. Chatting on the phone is important too, as emails cannot convey the same thing as the voice - especially if you are like G who, if it wasn't for the spell checker, would be sending me emails that could be written in Chinese or Russian!

What both of us have noticed I think is that we have learnt a lot about each other through writing and sometimes I think that there are parts of us that the other knows better than close friends or family. Having established the grounding, meeting for the first time is much easier, as the awkward conversation isn't necessary; we have already moved on from that stage.

So, touch wood, internet dating has been a very positive thing in our lives - I think G even suggests it to his single friends! 2007 has been a good year for me so far (especially as my birthday was on the 07.07.07) - I wonder what 2008 will bring? A move from the Alpes? Who knows? We don't!

PS G sometimes reads my blog ... wonder whether he will catch this one?!

CATTLE CLASS / LOW COST

2007-09-17T08:26:00.000+02:00

I don't seem to have had much time for my blog recently, but have managed to write a piece for Colin Randall over on his blog about the joys of cattle class travel! Bon voyage!

www.francesalut.com (Colin's blog, which I am unable to link to at the moment)

J - 1

2007-08-19T09:44:00.000+02:00

The last day of the summer holidays - tomorrow the alarm will ring at 5.30am and the school year will start once again for my son. As I type this, there is snow falling! I can't believe it - it is 10 degrees outside so it isn't settling thank goodness! I returned to sunny Switzerland yesterday lunchtime after a fortnight in Brittany and Jersey with G. The lad arrived back last night with two cases of dirty washing and looking (and smelling) as though he hadn't bathed for the two months he has been away! The dog went beserk as we arrived back and is now jealously guarding my shoes, just in case I escape again...
Our trip to Brittany was great, and the weather was actually okay; not boiling hot but apart from one small shower we had sun all the time. We stayed north of St. Brieuc and pottered around the coast there. I don't know where all the tourists went this summer but it wasn't Brittany, which for us was lovely - enough going on without fighting through the crowds. During our time there we drove over to the west coast of Brittany to Beg Meil which is near Concarneau to visit the hotel where G used to spend his holidays as a child - the owners' children are his age and now no longer play on the beach but run the family business and are about to retire! A day of trips down memory lane and a memorable 'assiette de fruits de mer' which kept me going as an entrée, main course and dessert - glorious!
La suite : written on Monday.
After our Brittany trip we caught the ferry from St. Malo to Jersey to go and see Mum and just potter around - again the weather was good, the beaches empty and I overdosed on fish, which I miss desperately here in Switzerland. The weather broke the day we left and we set sail in some pretty rough seas, but the wind had dropped and the sun was shining in St. Malo when we arrived.
On our way home we stopped off to visit the Bayeux tapestry which I had never seen. What a marvel. We watched a short film before visiting the tapestry in order to jog the memory of history learnt too many years ago, and then were given personal audio receivers which lead one through the tapestry and what each 'panel' represents - I think even G enjoyed the visit, even though he had suggested it, I think he was secretly hoping I would say I didn't want to go!
We then went on to visit the Normandy landing beaches and the American Cemetery which I had never visited. Very sobering and desperately sad - the sheer numbers of those who died is mind-boggling and shows the futility of war. In the late afternoon we stopped in a British Cemetery from WW1 which was much smaller and just by the side of the road. Although more 'intimate' than the American one, there were still hundreds buried there, many with no name, simply their regiment and the date they died.

As we arrived late that night in Brussels, we passed through Waterloo and its splendid illuminated monument. A rather sad and reflective way to end a holiday - monuments to three wars and millions of lives lost...

HOLIDAYS

2007-07-28T17:58:00.000+02:00

My God! A month and a half since I have written anything here. I have a backlog of blogs to write but little time at the moment ... hopefully they will appear in the autumn when it is dark at 5 p.m. and the thermometre starts to drop dramatically.

Last week G and I stayed with friends who have a house just outside of Valbonne in the south of France - a great week with some good food and wine. I admit to not venturing out much as July in the south of France is really not the best time of the year for sightseeing and also it was extremely hot, so most of the time was taken up lazing by the pool. I managed to read 'Salmon Fishing in the Yemen' by Paul Torday which was an ideal holiday-by-pool book - light-hearted, easy to read and amusing. I also took Andrew Marr's book 'A History of Modern Britain' but it's a hardback so not suitable for pools, but have plunged into it (the book!) now that I am home.

We ventured out one day to St. Paul de Vence and of course, regretted it bitterly. Although we arrived early, the place was already heaving with every nationality under the sun ... a quick coffee and then a trip round the village. Sorry, but what a load of rubbish - every second shop is an "Art" gallery selling absolute tat and if not a gallery, a souvenir shop selling the usual rubbish one finds everywhere. We found a "real" gallery and were attracted to it as they had a Chagall litho for sale. As a matter of interest we went in to ask the price. The two girls in the shop were fine, and we got the chat about the symbolism in the picture, how it had belonged to his daughter, how it was she who had had it framed (badly) etc. The cost was €60,000! We both did a 'that's a reasonable price' face, as if we bought pictures like that every day, and just before leaving, G said to one of the girls "Tell me, we were discussing Chagall earlier, and neither of us can remember his real name". Talk about two blank faces! I wonder whether they knew he was buried in the cemetary in St Paul de Vence? I admit to being amazed that for the modest sum of €60,000 these girls, albeit very charming, knew nothing about what must be one of the villages' most famous artists, and if I were spending €60,000 I would want them to know everything about the artist.

Rushed back to the car and headed for Eze, but on the way there decided that it would be just as busy as St. Paul, so we took a vote and agreed we would go to Italy for lunch! Crossed the border and headed to the hills looking for slightly cooler temperatures. Our lack of food led us to the Principality of Seborga totally by (happy) accident. It is a small, pretty hillside village with no tourists, no touristy knick knack shops, a couple of restaurants and that is about it. We had a lovely meal in a little courtyard (far cheaper and far better than what we would have found on the French coast at this time of the year), a wander around after lunch and generally had a great day, especially after our disastrous start. So definitely a place to recommend if you are down in the area this summer and need to escape from the madding crowd.

One other gastronomic recommendation I can most definitely make is to try and get a table at the Auberge du Vieux Chateau in Cabris. It is at the top of the village and there are the most wonderful views over Grasse and to the coast. We had booked a table outside, and when we arrived ... no table! What could have become a rather unpleasant scene was immediately transformed by the wonderful owner into a memorable evening. He suggested we admired the view and he would bring us all a glass of champagne on the house and so we did just that. A bit of juggling of tables and five minutes later we were installed outside. A small 'carte' with a choice of 4 entrées, 4 main courses and 4 desserts and a good choice of local wines. I ate the best salade niçoise in the whole of my life there - sounds boring? Not this one. It is not cheap; we had a bill for €200 for the four of us, but we had had wonderful amuse-gueule, a three course meal that was perfect (we could also have had cheese but didn't), a bottle of good wine, 2 bottles of mineral water and coffee. The staff were young, friendly and knew their job and we had a marvellous evening, so was it expensive? I think not.

Next week G and I are off to the north coast of Brittany, as I am desperate for some 'real' sea and 'real' fish - two of the things Switzerland cannot provide! Then to Jersey to see my Mum and eat more fish and stroll along empty beaches and hopefully I shall be back here with batteries recharged ready to rise at 5.30am on the 20th August when the favourite son starts another school year!

BOSWELL AND JOHNSON GO TO THE DOGS

2007-06-17T09:45:00.000+02:00

Sun going down over Wimbledon Stadium

Well, the 'Journey' didn't take us to the Western Isles of Scotland this time, but plunged us into the dark depths of Wimbledon to visit the dog track and watch the first heats being run for the Greyhound Derby which is on the 7th July. 'You are going WHERE?' said my mother when I told we were going to the dogs, and I must admit dog racing does conjure up visions of shady guys in spivvy suits, jellied eels and off the rail betting.

G and I only had two days in London before going down to the country, so we tried to cram in as much as possible, and an evening of dog racing is great fun! I am a horse racing enthusiast myself and have only once been dog racing and that was in Florida many years ago. I know nothing about greyhound racing whatsoever and suspect that G knew little more than me ... so off we go on a bus from Victoria out to the wilds of Wimbledon. It seemed to take for ever - I didn't know London buses went so far! Arrive just after seven to meet up with a friend of G, who had actually rung during the day to ask if the rendez-vous was serious and as we were a little late, I think he was starting to have doubts!

We had pre-booked tickets as the stadium was doing a special e-mail offer; for the princely sum of £15 we had entry, dinner in the 'posh' restaurant, and race card. The entry fee is normally about £6 I think, so the mind boggles at the three course menu! In past the gorillas on the doorway and then greated by George who was Master of Ceremonies, Maitre d'Hotel and general jollier along of the diners, at which he was most successful.

Up in the lift to top of grandstand and restaurant overlooking the course. The tables are all in lines and everyone sits facing the track. Linen tableclothes and napkins, sparkling glasses - things started off well. The waitresses of course were efficient and friendly (and not English!) and the menu was astounding! The choice of 5 starters, 5 main courses and 5 puddings and a long, long way from Prawn cocktail or half a grapefruit. The order was taken swiftly, wine appeared and a bread basket that would put a Michelin restaurant almost to shame! Six different types of bread, beautifully fresh and nicely presented.

Dogs being loaded into traps just before start of race

The first race started at 7.30 - 12 races in all, the last one at 10.30, so it is pretty fast and furious. Being up in the restaurant there is no rushing to place bets; five minutes before the race a girl from the Tote appears at your table and takes your bets from you and if you are fortunate enough to back the right dog, she appears immediately after the race to pay out the winnings. The minimum bet is £2 and I'm afraid I just chose dogs because of their name or the colour of their eyes! D did the same thing and G got into deep discussion with the girl from the Tote, hoping she would give him tips and actually being rather secretive about the whole thing, as well as showing off a bit doing each way bets and various complicated combinations which I don't think worked all that well, as he did start to get rather grumpy when I won! D's betting was totally disastrous and he only won one race and ended up begging the Tote girl to take his house and I won on six of the twelve races, so didn't lose very much. We were visited during the evening by George, who gave D a tip and told him to bet on Dusty Carpet. D was delighted and was already spending the millions that were to come his way, until George said 'Never been beaten' (Ho!Ho!). This is probably the joke he turns out every night, but after a couple of bottles of wine, we all found it very funny!

'Our' Tote girl, whose name I don't remember but she said I could use her photo in my blog!

G did film one of the races on his camera, so if I am feeling techie during the day I will try and publish on YouTube and then post the link here. I must just point out though that in the background commentary there might be a remark about 'horses' - for some reason (and it might have been the wine!) we kept on referring to the dogs as horses!

So an evening to be recommended, even if you nothing about dog racing. Good fun, great atmosphere as the lights go off inside the grandstand and the track floodlights come on just before the race and the buses are still running after the evening, so you can get back to Victoria!

PS I put up a rapid blog on MyTelegraph about this, so there are also a couple of comments posted there
http://my.telegraph.co.uk under my blog name of More Swiss Choc

HOME AND AWAY

2007-06-11T09:47:00.000+02:00

My poor old blog has been abandoned recently due to the early euphoria of the new Telegraph blog. I think I will no longer blog there, but post a comment every now and then - the site is too muddled and there are just too many blogs appearing daily that unless one is prepared to spend the day in front of the screen, one quickly misses the plot!
I am still in England but return to my mountains in Switzerland this evening. L'Homme (don't like that name, so from now on, he will be referred to as G) and I managed to spend two days in London cramming in loads before going down to the country for the weekend, so within the next couple of days I hope to be able to put up a blog on our trip together with some photos.
My memories of London are vague apart from the odd day trip when I am back in England, but both G and I agreed that as a couple of rootless expats, London as a base was out of the question - despite the lovely time we had in town and the great people we met, it has changed out of all recognition and not for the better, I think.
But more of that in a couple of days when the fridge at home has been restocked after depletion by the favourite son and the small Scottish gentleman with four legs calms down after my return!

A BUZZ IN BARCELONA 3

2007-05-25T08:19:00.000+02:00

The problem of being in a city for a long weekend or a short week, depending on how you look at it, is that you cannot see and do everything the city in question has to offer. Or at least I can't. I prefer to do a few sites and take in as much as possible rather than suffer from a 'culture collapse' where everything becomes hazy. So on this trip the Sagrada Familia was not on the list, but will be on the next trip. Instead we visited the Cathedral of Barcelona. When on holiday I love visiting churches and cathedrals - apart from their beauty they afford a tranquil moment in what can be an exhausting time. They are cool, calm and often have more treasures to see than a museum.

The Cathedral of Ste. Eulalia is no exception. The stalls are wonderful, the organ majestic (shame it wasn't being played when we visited), and you can also take a rather dubious lift up to the top of the Cathedral to get some stunning views of the city. I wasn't too keen to go up as I am not the most courageous person in the world where heights are concerned, the lift didn't seem too secure, but in fact once up at the top there are no knee-buckling views down to the street below! So definitely worth going up for the views.
The cloisters have some strange inmates! Thirteen white geese who live there permanently and of course pose for the cameras! Each goose represents a year of the life of Ste. Eulalia who was martyred by the Romans for her religious beliefs. Why geese and how long ago they were introduced, I know not. There is also a charming little fountain with a statue of St. George slaying the Dragon but not easy to photograph in the afternoon light.

Difficult to leave such places that appease the mind and the soul but after lighting a candle in memory of loved ones, it was back to the buzz of Barcelona.

A BUZZ IN BARCELONA 2

2007-05-23T06:49:00.000+02:00

I enjoy going round an unknown city on an open-top bus. It helps me get my bearings (sadly lacking), gives you an idea of the size of a city and takes you past many of the sites worth visiting. As we only had three and a half days in Barcelona, and l'Homme was there on business, there is no way we could have visited all the sites. We decided to go and take a trip out to the Park Guell so my wish was granted to take a bus - the weather was lovely and taking the Metro didn't sound too much fun! After the hectic pace of the city centre, the Park Guell is wonderful.

Designed by Antoni Gaudi, it was originally intended to be a housing development, but due to lack of funds, the project never saw the light of day. It was eventually bought by the city of Barcelona and is now a municipal park. Everyone who visits Barcelona knows the dragon at the entrance and the souvenir shops are full of copies - it was vandalised in the early part of the year, but is now fully restored.

The stroll to the top is worth it for the wonderful view looking down over the city. The day we were there it was rather hazy, but we could still make out all the major sites. The view of the Sagrada Familia is unfortunately ruined as there is an enormous and very ugly development of flats/offices blocking it. How this was allowed beats me.

The main terrace of course is internationally reknowned, snaking its way round the viewpoint. What I didn't know was the shape of the seats was determined by Gaudi by getting the workmen to sit in the wet clay with their trousers down! After a welcome beer and a half an hour of people watching, we were off to catch the bus to continue round the city. The second half of the trip is slightly less interesting, unless you are a football fan and want to visit the FC Barcelona, but we decided we liked the FC Barcelona as they support UNICEF instead of having enormous logos of 'phone companies on their shirts...

Towards the end of the tour as we neared the sea, it did start to get a bit chilly - the thermometres in the streets were saying anything between 25 and 27 degrees - they were definitely wrong. I was frozen! We could have gone downstairs but the whole thing becomes pointless. So if you take the bus trip, take a sweater with you if the wind is coming off the sea.

Drop-off on the plaça Catalunya, back to the hotel to leave camera, grab a sweater and off again in search of a good restaurant, followed by a good bar to end off the evening! By the second day I was being to get into the swing of going to bed at an hour when I am normally getting up!

A BUZZ IN BARCELONA 1

2007-05-20T19:49:00.000+02:00

Well, how I actually managed to get to Barcelona defeats me! The day I leave God decides that the skies will open, sleet will fall and the temperature will drop dramatically. So instead of an hour and a half to get to Geneva airport, it takes me over two hours and obviously the whole world had decided to park their cars in the airport car parks that day. I must have got the last space on the roof of the car park that is almost over the border in France and got totally soaked getting from there to the terminal. However...
The last time I visited Barcelona was over twenty years ago and my memories were not good...cold, miserable and dark - but it was probably during the winter and perhaps I didn't want to be there. So on landing, what a pleasant surprise to see the sun and feel the heat, especially after my really cold start to the day.
We checked into a super hotel called the Pulitzer which is just off la plaça Catalunya and if you have a few quid to spare is worth it. Modern, bright and great staff - pleasant, efficient and most welcoming. So having dumped the cases we galloped off in search of food and a well-needed drink. Walking down las Ramblas I was quite convinced I would get my bag stolen in a flash as I do tend to amble a bit and not pay attention to things like people following me or coming too close - I used to be street wise when I lived in Toulouse, but after a couple of years in Switzerland I have forgotten the rules. But obviously l'Homme was looking tall and menacing and my bag stayed with me!
It's great being in a city with someone who knows their way around - although even he got lost a couple of times, and particularly useful for me who tends not to pay attention and doesn't have a built-in SatNav system. The restaurant we had chosen had a queue snaking out of the door and we waited what seemed hours for food, but my glass seemed to be filled constantly as we stood in the street and chatted with other diners to be - our impromptu street party was as fun as the food was good when we eventually sat down. We had chatted to a young English guy who lived in Barcelona and was something in property, another chap who designed cars with a company in Spain, an American wholesaler who exported foodstuffs from Spain and probably others, but the mind started to blurr a little after too much wine and no food and a twenty hour day! There was no choice in the restaurant, you sit watching your food being cooked in front of you and wait to see what turns up. Good stuff!
Goodness knows how many different languages I heard that evening walking through the streets of Barcelona - dozens I would think. It is truly a cosmopolitan city, very alive and buzzing and over the following days we were to meet some great people who live and work in the city. But that is for another blog!
We eventually got back to the hotel at some terrible hour, having avoided the municipal workers with enormous fire hoses cleaning the streets and I still had my bag!

SORRY!

2007-05-13T22:26:00.000+02:00

Apologies for not having posted anything for ages - you must be getting heartily sick of the same old photos of the demolished chalet! I was lead astray into becoming a guinea pig for the new Daily Telegraph blog site, so for the last couple of weeks, along with about a dozen others, blogging has turned from being difficult to nightmarish! My eyes can no longer take it and my fingers are down to the knuckles.
Still it was fun and I learnt a couple of things that weren't too technical! The site was launched during the week and got off with a resounding BANG! and far exceeded everyone's expectations, I think. Blogs were appearing so fast that they disappeared if you blinked.
Anyway, as I can't plug my blog on the Telegraph, I shall plug my Telegraph blog here! If you go to my.Telegraph on the Daily Telegraph site, I am registered as More Swiss Choc - I haven't put in the links as I am too tired to do all the work! I have also set up a blog for Angus (A Swiss Scot) which actually I enjoy writing more than my own! It is only for testing purposes but perhaps the dog side of my split personality might get the upper hand!
So am off to Barcelona for a couple of days to recover from cabin fever and I hope I shall come home with loads of pictures and stories for blogging, and with my handbag!

Thanks to my favourite son for the two photos!

FOUR DAYS IN THE LIFE OF A SWISS CHALET

2007-05-04T11:15:00.000+02:00

The chalet opposite my house is being pulled down to make way for a posh development of very, very, very expensive flats. Actually, 'pulled down' isn't the right word, it is being dismantled to be re-erected somewhere else. From the road one could just see the entrance as the garden boardering the road was full of enormous fir trees. The view from the chalet is on the other side of the house, overlooking Verbier, and the ski resort on the other side of the mountain, Bruson.

It's a shame that the individual chalets are disappearing, making way for large and luxurious flats that are occupied for a couple of weeks in the year but I suppose this is the problem of ski resorts that are in high demand for four or five months of the year and then die quietly during the remaining months. Verbier of course is a well-known resort and the skiing is excellent - 40% of foreign investors here are English, and one supposes that a high percentage of those are the hated City Bonus benificiaries. However...

I love Verbier once the season ends as everything is shut and no one is around apart from the locals who come out of hiding! The negative side is that as soon as the season is at an end, the building work starts again in ernest. No lorries, cranes, Manitous and dynamite during the winter as there is too much traffic already in the village, it isn't good publicity, and I suppose there are the technical problems with the snow, the cold etc. reacting with concrete ... the work stops again during July and August during the Festival, so in fact if you decide to come here in the winter or the summer, you would never know any building work went on at all. Last summer high up on the mountainside looking down over Verbier, I counted 33 cranes!

Anway back to the chalet over the road. Here are a series of photos that I took, starting on Monday...

MONDAY MORNING - FIR TREES IN THE GARDEN LINING THE ROAD

MONDAY AFTERNOON - FIR TREES GONE

TUESDAY MORNING - ROOF SLATES BEING TAKEN OFF

WEDNESDAY MORNING - ROOF READY TO BE DISMANTLED

THURSDAY - FIRST FLOOR COMING OFF

FRIDAY MORNING - DOWN TO GROUND FLOOR

Just a week to dismantle a chalet and cut down trees that were probably 40 years old...

WHAT A LOAD OF RUBBISH

2007-04-27T10:24:00.000+02:00

I read in the papers that England is having a spot of bother with their rubbish collection and that certain councils are being 'secretive' about the fact that the ratepayers will only get their rubbish collected once in every two weeks. I must say I find it amazing that England still has house to house collections.

House to house collections disappeared in France many years ago. Instead a large container is installed at stratigic intervals, you pop your refuse bag in and the dustbin men come once or twice a week, depending where you live, and empty it. The same system applies in Switzerland and in Spain, and probably in quite a few other countries.

Even when I lived in the middle of nowhere in the 'Grand Sud' of France the 'hameau' where I lived which consisted of two houses, mine and my neighbour, we had an enormous bin on wheels that was emptied every week and twice a week in the hot summer months. My neighbour and I used to take it in turns during the summer to give the bin a quick clean with a splash of Brobat and water, as although both of us recycled as much as possible the bin did tend to get smelly and maggoty during the summer.

Here in the village we have very posh log cabins for dumping the rubbish sacks! All they lack are windows to transform them into a charming little pied-à-terre! Next to the main logs cabins are bins for the recycling of glass, paper and plastic. In the supermarkets there are bins for recycling milk cartons. I have a wheelie bin in the garden into which I put my rubbish bags and twice a week I load up the car and drive to the cabins to dump and recycle - the nearest one is about 200m from my house.

I can hear people say 'Oh, well that's because it's Switzerland and they are terribly organised and their country is squeaky clean' ... not true, France and Spain manage it too!

I am amazed when I go back to England to see that on nights when people put out their bins, they are systemmatically ripped to pieces by mangy urban foxes; it's terrible to see and must be awful for the dustbin men to collect plus the waste of time shovelling up the split bags. If England is or has introduced fortnightly collections, it seems essential that these large wheelie bins are installed as quickly as possible to fight the vermin which must surely increase.

See the following BBC article

news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk_politics/6584497.stm

ULTIME SESSION

2007-04-23T07:39:00.000+02:00

The coming weekend sees the end of the 06-07 ski season; not the best as far as the snow was concerned, although the resort is high up and the snow cannons paid their way this year. To me it would seem that there were less people in the resort this year, probably because of the dollar exchange rate and the great snow in the States.

The finale is the 'Ultime Session' on the pistes - a weekend of fooling around skiing, mountain biking and dressing up in silly disguises. As the theme is Mexico this year, I imagine a vast quantity of beer with slices of limes stuck in the bottle neck will be consumed! Some of the clubs had their last weekend yesterday and going through the village on Saturday afternoon the bars seemed to be filled with those on a Happy Hour, before starting the serious stuff later on...

Relief! In one week, the resort will revert to a small mountain village of about 3,000 residents, the free buses that go round the village (and past my door) from 8.00 a.m. to 8.00 p.m. will cease, no queues in the supermarket and general peace and quiet! It's marvellous and until the middle of June, when the summer season starts, the resort is a lovely place to live. My little black friend and I can now walk in the mountains and often not meet another soul apart from the occasional deer and the marmots with their piercing warning whistle as we approach. Angus is of course fascinated with the marmots - his basic Terrier instinct tells him this is the nearest thing to a badger although fortunately he has never seen one! It is their enormous terriers that attract him but being slightly weedy, he stands at the entrance and sniffs but totally lacks the courage to go in and investigate, thank goodness!

The summer season is however a more sedate affair - firstly, far less people and none of the skiing frenzy. Many mountain walkers and each year more and more mountain bikers. The ski lifts reopen from mid June to mid September and the 'baskets' for holding skis on the outside of the cabins are replaced with hooks for the bikes. I admit to preferring the bikers to the skiiers - when you are walking in the mountains, they go to great lengths to avoid hitting you as they hurtle downwards by calling out or slowing down, whereas the skiiers invariably are not in control of their skis or their speed and tend to hurl insults as they careen by - even though they are on a 'sentier pedestre' and shouldn't be there in the first place...

And of course, at the end of July is the Verbier Festival (if you click on my Verbier link which takes you to the Verbier homepage you will find all the information). The Festival lasts three weeks with concerts every day in the village - some of which are free. The main concerts are every evening at 7 p.m. at the top of the village, and as there is no car access, it is lovely to see people strolling up to the venue in their evening clothes to assist - a far cry from the clumping of ski boots and the potentially lethal skis being carried on skiers' shoulders. There are also concerts in the church and many of the bars have musical afternoons or evenings with a string quartet. The Festival is also an Academy and invests a lot of time and money in young and upcoming talent, who have the chance to play with some of the most important conductors and musicians currently around.

The wild flowers are starting to appear timidly and before too long the cows with their enormous clunking bells will be moved up to the high alpine pastures to feed on the grass, herbs and wild flowers that seem to be three times taller than I knew in France or in England. Angus will no longer speed around in Scotty fashion but will start doing rabbit impersonations trying to get his bearings in the long grass and I shall pick bunches of wild lupins to bring home.

Monday afternoon : I have just added three photos of wild flowers but have no idea of their names as I don't have a book on alpine wild flowers. They are all minute - none of them more than 5cm high.

MEZENC

2007-04-17T06:22:00.000+02:00

To the vegetarians among you, I apologise for the photo - to the meat lovers of the world, this must be the equivalent of Kobé beef (which I have never tried).

Enjoy the photo, as your chances of finding this meat are virtually non-existent! This is 'le Fin gras de Mézenc', one of France's best-kept secrets. The Mézenc recently received an AOC for their meat which comes from an area covering 20 communes in the Haute Loire and the Ardèche. The cows are fed on hay from these communes throughout the winter and it is the hay that gives the meat a very distinctive flavour as it contains numerous aromatic plants, including 'cistre' (alpine fennel). The animals must be over two years of age when slaughtered so, like this côte de boeuf, it is from a fully grown animal and is consistant. The meat is delicately marbled throughout and honestly I have never tasted a piece of meat with such complex flavours - we were rather like wine bores when eating it as our taste buds discovered the different flavours.

Apart from the Mézenc being a small AOC, another particularity is that one can only find it from the beginning of March to the beginning of June, when the animals go out to pasture for the summer. If you happen to be in the area during the season, the next problem is to find a butcher that sells le Fin gras de Mézenc! The only butcher that sells it (as far as I know) in Clermont Ferrand is la Maison Gauthier, and it has to be ordered well in advance! Or for a few dollars more, you could take yourself to what is probably the best restaurant in France, the 3* Michelin of Regis Marcon in St. Bonnet le Froid, where it is served during the spring. Marcon, apart from his great talent, must be the most charming and unpretentious of the great French chefs and his new restaurant is stunning. He also has the admirable policy of offering jobs to local people first and foremost which has been a blessing in area which is 'au milieu de nul parts'. (www.regismarcon.fr)

My one regret? That my son wasn't there to enjoy this fabulous piece of meat. On the other hand, he would have eaten the côte de boeuf by himself!

L'AUVERGNE

2007-04-16T06:20:00.000+02:00

I love the Auvergne region of France, where I was staying last week. Perhaps because when I first moved to France it was the area where I lived and so holds many memories. Quite a few members of my ex-family live there, although they are not originally auvergnat. I was staying in the Haute Loire, a département which reminds me of western Scotland - the countryside is lovely although in winter the 'plateaux' can be bleak and windswept. The villages are not beautiful and the houses are practical, solid and frugal, in keeping with the auvergnat mentality of economy and prudence. Despite its rather poor image, do not be fooled - the Auvergne is a rich region in every sense of the word. Although isolated for many years the region has benefited from heavy investments that have come their way from various Presidents and ministers, the roads are good, the viaduct de Millau has speeded up access to the coast and the villages and towns have invested heavily in schools, sports centres, libraries etc. in order to stabalise the population.

On our way to one of the sports centres the other day, we drove through the village of Vorey ... having dropped off the swimmers at the pool which was heaving with screaming children on their Easter holidays, I drove back to Voray to photograph the church, as for once I had actually thought to take my camera. There are some wonderful churches in the Auvergne and it is on the chemin de St. Jacques de Compostelle. The church in Voray is not particularly interesting architecturally, but it is painted this deep terracotta colour on the outside. What do you think? Personally I think it is very effective. The church of course was locked, bolted and barred and not even a notice to saw that someone held the key, so I couldn't go inside to visit and probably find out why it had been painted. And no-one around apart from a few barking dogs (and a few twitching curtains!).

So from the painted church, onto the painted Monument aux Morts fifty yards away. Normally rather depressing things, put up rapidly after the War and lacking in any artistic charm...but this one is glorious!

The only other people around were a couple of pilgrims on their way to St. Jacques and they too had their camera out; neither they nor I knew of other painted monuments, but they probably exist. The rooster on the top is a very fine chap, who apparently got knocked off his perch a few years ago during repainting by the local cantonier and being in fonte was extremely difficult to solder together again, so a very attractive young man with the most gorgeous blue eyes (Vorey is decidedly colourful!) stopped to tell me as I was clicking away with my camera.

So, while the others were packed like sardines in the swimming pool, I spent a lovely afternoon going from village to village, visiting the churches.

HAPPY EASTER

2007-04-05T19:27:00.000+02:00

Thought I would just wish you all a Happy Easter, and hopefully, a warm and sunny one.

I am off to the Auvergne tomorrow to spend Easter with my ex in-laws, the car filled with loads of Swiss Easter Eggs, Bunnies and suchlike. Hopefully they will all arrive intact and Gus won't be tempted to chew off a bunny ear...

I am staying in a house that doesn't have an Internet connection (yes, they still exist!) but in case I get withdrawal symptoms, my sister-in-law runs the local médiathèque so I shall be able to get a fix there!

If you don't get to Mass on Sunday, at least watch the Pope on television for the traditional Urbi et Orbi, as I'm sure we all have many sins that need to be forgiven!

JOYEUSES PAQUES

EASTER?

2007-04-04T06:37:00.000+02:00

My plans have been thawrted. Yesterday was a lovely spring day, so before going to France for a week of R&R from the mind-numbing mornings starting at 5.30, I decided that it was time for the car to have its twice yearly interior clean. First of all the ski rack came off - no mean feat as although deceptively simple to look at, you need a PhD in engineering to dismantle it. Then all the doors were opened and I set about emptying the contents before getting out the Dyson. Out came the bath mats (brilliant for absorbing melting snow), the rubber mats that hold the melted water and a very smelly old sheet that Angus is meant to use after a wet/muddy/rolling in cow pat walk.

I then set about clearing the litter and this is what I discovered! Six bottles of mineral water in various stages of consumption, three Coke bottles, about 30 sweet wrappers, the tripod for my camera (wondered where that had got to), various scrapers, de-icers etc., Angus's passport, assorted maps, my 'zapper' to fast track through the motorway tolls in France, a load of cables for assorted mobile 'phones and iPods, 2 dog leads, an amazingly awful collection of CDs and I think that it about all!

And then of course, I was waylaid doing something else, so cleaning the car came to a halt for the day. So I had decided to hoover the car this morning and treat the seats which are in leather and desperately need de-Angusing. But of course that has been stopped as yet again it is snowing! The car is now covered in a good 6 inches of snow, and no sign of a let-up at the moment. I know I live high up in the mountains, I know it is only the beginning of April and we shall have snow on and off for another month, but this year I am totally fed up with the snow. One day in T-Shirts, the following day in a ski jacket and if I have to wear my snow boots for much longer, I think I shall scream.

However, when I go off to France on Friday as the car will be junk free, I should save a few drops of petrol.

And of course the rubber mats have disappeared somewhere in the snow...

MY CHARGER

2007-04-01T15:40:00.000+02:00

UPDATE TUESDAY : INFORMATION THAT STEVENSON'S (RESTORERS OF ROCKING HORSES) VERY KINDLY SENT ME THIS AFTERNOON:

J. COLLINSON AND SONS

The firm of J (Jervis) Collinson has always been a small family concern with only a few workers, mostly family members, and has remained in the city of Liverpool. The name Jervis is part of the family tradition handed down from father to son, hence the continuance of the name of the firm, J. Collinson. From 1836 to 1850 their horses were painted in different colours however in 1851 Queen Victoria visited the Collinson's workshop and rode a dapple-grey horse. Since then, in honour of the royal visit they have only made dapple grey horses.

Sometime during the 1890s Jervis Drinkall Collinson Senior started work in the factory where he carried on business until his death in 1945. Circa 1912 Jervis Drinkall Junior was born and by the late 1920s he was working alongside his father in the factory at Richmond Terrace, Liverpool. Both men produced the glass-eyed, hand-dappled horses with attention to carved detail along the lines of the 'extra carved' finish of other manufacturers of quality rocking horses. Glass eyes were replaced by wooden balls after the Second World War. Despite the general acceptance of riding astride for women by the 1920s, larger Collinson horses continued to be made with sidesaddle equipage until as late as the early 1950s.

The present proprietor of the firm, Jervis James, was born in 1935, the year the factory workshop was relocated at Great Georges Road and the period from the mid 1930s to the mid 1940s was perhaps the most difficult for the firm, For the most part Jervis James father was occupied in the British Aircraft Services leaving grandfather Jervis to manage on his own until production ceased entirely for a few years during the Second World War. Production began again in the late 1940s under Jervis James' father and Jervis joined him in the factory in 1950 at the age of 15. His younger brother Leonard joined the firm in the late 1950s.

Earlier this century Collinson's supplied the London stores, Harrods and Hamleys and sometime later an agent, Johnson, handled distribution of the horses from Nottingham. They became misleadingly known as 'Johnson rocking horses'. The factory workshop was until 1993 located at Smithdown Road where thousands of Collinson rocking horses were produced since 1965. The horses were never marked until about 1981 when the maker's name on a gold plate was first applied to the front of the stand base. The factory finally closed their doors in the latter part of 1993 due to lack of demand for these toys.

Here are a couple of photos of my fine old horse! He and I were born the same year. He was a Christmas present for my first Christmas at the ripe old age of 6 months, when I could barely sit, let alone ride a horse! He came from Horrids and cost £100! What a vast amount of money - goodness knows how much that would be in today's money.

He was given to me by an 'aunt' who was in fact a friend of my parents - an ageing spinster, very '40s in her way of dressing, make-up and hairstyle and had a passion for Pekinese dogs (which I love to this day!).

Although he cost a lot, he is still very much 'part of the family' - apart from myself who 'rode' thousands of miles on him, my daughter and my son also went off on many adventure astride this animal with his flaring nostrils, and even now they, and I, still go off on a gentle trot!

He is getting rather old and tatty, like his owner! The reins and stirrups have long gone, the mane and tail have been trimmed over the years and his dapple grey colour has become a dapple yellow. The paint is now flaking fast but I am loathe to have him restored as I fear he might end up looking too new. Looking for some information on him, it would appear that he was made by a company called Collinson who still make rocking horses and do restore 'antique' beasts. Below is a photo of a horse similar to mine who has been restored.

The old boy had a number of names but none ever stuck - the name he kept the longest was Santa as he came at Christmas and also because the same year as I was offered my rocking horse, my father gave my mother a real dapple grey for Christmas called ... Santa!

My 'aunt' would be delighted to see that her present of so many years ago, is still alive and well and living in Switzerland.

SPRING CLEANING

2007-03-31T17:29:00.000+02:00

SUNDAY 1st APRIL
SAW THIS ARTICLE IN THE TELLY THIS MORNING WHICH IS PERTINENT TO MY BLOG ON THE 16th MARCH 'LES JEUX'
BUT IS IT AN APRIL FOOL?
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/main.jhtml?xml=/news/2007/04/01/nfool01.xml

I shouldn't be putting up a new post as I am meant to be chasing the dust, spiders and the old bones belonging to Gus. However, taking a look at the bookshelf in the bedroom (Ikea's cheapest!) has put me off. It's not all that big, but the books are three deep on each shelf and it's about time that the books at the back made their way to the front for an airing. Even the top of the bookshelf is full - reference books, gardening books and Mac for dummies in large quantities.

And my dear old bear. I shouldn't call him old, as he and I are the same age! He used to growl, but seized up many a year ago. I can't remember the makers' name as it was on a hind paw which over the years has disintigrated and the lable has disappeared. Perhaps I might find out something about him on the Internet...

So digging through the pile of books, I thought I might write about one or two of them next week. My problem is that once I start going through my books, I decide perhaps I will have a quick read, so spring cleaning might be compromised!

GRUMPY DAY

2007-03-29T17:41:00.000+02:00

I was going to post a blog this morning as I was feeling quite grumpy. However my daughter rushed in yesterday afternoon in a panic as her babysitter for my six month old grandson had stood her up at the last minute, and she was on the late shift. Babies, however dear, and blogging do not go together. And of course I can no longer remember why I was feeling grumpy - probably because my small sleep allowance was significantly reduced with The Baby.

Oh yes, I was also feeling grumpy having read in this morning's Figaro that the boss of Barclays Bank earned £34 million squid last year, which I find totally scandalous. No-one can be worth that money. Can they? Perhaps I am jealous - imagine, I could have his job for a year, or even six months, and then retire most gracefully!

And it started snowing at 630 this morning and I am fed up with the non-snow this year - last year we had heavy snow until the middle of May and then suddenly within two weeks it had melted and spring arrived. This year we lurch from thick snow to no snow within 48hours and just when spring looks as though it might arrive - wham, another snow fall.

The Daughter and The Baby left earlier, I was just about to take the dog for a walk and the 'phone rings - my 'dear' ex for his bi-monthly counselling session. My ex and my mother are very similar - they are both total hypocondriacs and I get hours of descriptions of their illnesses - both of them assume that I am fine and well and healthy and off they ramble; thank goodness I have a solid constitution - perhaps I should pluck up the courage and tell them I have some awful illness and see how they react - they might even hang up! Serves me right for being too wimpy to stick up for myself, and that makes me grumpy, too.

So the day was lost - the only positive note was that my little black friend eventually got a good gallop and I came home in a much better frame of mind!

THAT PUB AGAIN

2007-03-28T06:49:00.000+02:00

After last night's pub quizz which saw Gigi winning the first prize, a little information on the Crown from the inside...my parents used to own this pub in the 1960s. The Crown is one of the oldest pubs in England, and is mentioned in the Doomsday Book, although it would appear that it really got going on a permanent basis in the 13th century when it was enlarged and probably improved. It is on the old London to Portsmouth road and was a staging post. It was said that Elizabeth I stopped off there for a quick pint, but if she really went to all the pubs that now say she stopped there, the poor woman must have been on one continual pub-crawl throughout her life!

As a child living there, I loved that pub, and my brothers too. We actually lived there for a certain time until my parents bought a house nearby and could then re-let the two bedrooms we occupied. In those day, the Crown was very fashionable and a very busy place - on the weekends it was heaving as the 'bright young things' came down from London for the weekend, often on their way to Goodwood for the horse or motor racing. We actually saw little of this, as unless the bar was quiet at lunchtime, we were not allowed in and in the evenings we were packed off to bed (remember those days when you had to go to bed when it was still light outside?). We also rarely ate in the dining room, but had our own little room nearby. If this was used as a private dining room we were then allowed into the main diningroom for lunch which was a great treat. The starched tableclothes, the linen napkins splayed out in a fan shape, the grissini, the butter cut into fancy shapes - we thought it was marvellous. Don't forget we are in the '60s and dining in England at that time was prawn cocktail and fillet steak and if you were really extravagant, crepes suzette cooked over the lamp at your table!

The Crown had a ghost - we were convinced of this. We never saw it but there was an area upstairs that was always cold and chilly and I used to run through that part of the house at great speed. Once in a while I have a vague dream involving that corridor - it's very weird.

The village in those days was still a rural English village. On the edge of the Green there was still a working blacksmith's forge and I used to lurk in the doorway watching the smithy shoeing horses - I was absolutely terrified of him although he was probably a harmless old boy, but the atmosphere in the smithy with the bellows working flat out and the smell as the hot horseshoe was placed on the hoof have left a lasting impression.

The event of the year was Guy Fawkes and weeks before the event the villagers would start building an enormous bonfire on the Green. On the night literally hundreds of people used to attend and of course in those days there were fireworks going off all over the place which is now banned. One year the chimney in the 'Lounge Bar' caught fire and there were great sparks coming out of the chimney - how the place didn't catch fire, goodness knows. Amongst the clients in the overflowing bar, the firemen were running hoses through the pub trying to put out the fire - it made our evening!

We also had Morris dancing on the Green, although I only saw it once; Morris dancing was by then virtually non-existant until revived in the '80s.

I went back to the Crown about 15 years ago and it was so, so sad - it had become a sort of burger joint and was a disgrace. I returned a couple of years ago with my brother and joy! It had had changed hands, restored to its former glory and we had some halfway decent food. And the sedan chair which had the public telephone in it was still there! I think it has recently changed hands again but am not sure - from a recent photo I see that unfortunately the outside has been painted a sort of butter yellow which gives it a rather plastic look and the gorgeous wisteria that shaded the front of the pub in the summer is no longer there...

WHERE IS THIS?

2007-03-27T19:01:00.000+02:00

I'm sure you won't know the name of the village. It's in England, of course. A clue : amongst my 'blogger friends' Roads is the only one that might be able to answer! Another clue : it's a pub. I noticed that this is my 49th blog, so on blog number 50 the winner will be announced!

NO GOING BACK?

2007-03-26T18:02:00.000+02:00

About six years ago whilst still living in my tumbled-down farmhouse in the wilds of France, a friend said to me one day 'An English couple have bought the house down the road from you'. The news filled me with a certain amount of dread. The unwanted little village houses in the area were being bought up at an alarming rate by English people profiting from the Ryanair link to Carcassonne - they appeared for long weekends, their suitcases filled with Baked Beans and Heinz Salad Cream and would be seen wandering round the local supermarket comparing the price of 'rouge' in loud voices.

So off I trot dutifully to say hello (being the only English person in my commune) to see if they needed any help or information. And I was welcomed with open arms by Peter and Jane (not their real names - I don't think they read my blog and I know they won't mind me telling their story, but still). Peter and Jane were in their late fifties, Peter having taken early retirement after a heart alert. After a year of organising, searching and selling their four-bedroom house in Sussex, they moved. The house needed quite a lot of work doing to it, especially installing central heating, and I think the first year was a pretty exciting time for them, getting the house and garden into shape, and struggling with their French.

For of course, the language was the major problem - both of them had school French, but this doesn't get you far when discussing the installation of central heating with a tradesman who a) doesn't know a word of English and b) has a very pronounced accent du sud! In between working on the house, they attended probably hundreds of hours of lessons learning French. It did pay off, but I would say that it took them three years.

If they had been welcomed into the French community earlier, they would have learnt French far more quickly. But where we lived, the locals do not mix with the 'foreigners' - 'foreigners' being anyone not born within 20km of where they live.

I take my hat off to them, as they tried so, so hard to get their new life up and running. But despite all Peter's organisation and calculations, there were three things they had forgotten. Firstly, they were suddenly thrown together 24 hours a day, 365 days of the year which is trying for any couple when cut off from their roots; secondly where we lived, absolutely nothing happened, the local cinema was thirty minutes drive away and Carcassonne is not exactly the cultural hub of France; and thirdly, they left behind in England their two grown-up girls.

And that was the downfall - their daughters would pop out on holidays and weekends, but then their elder daughter had her first baby and Peter and Jane's first grandchild, and the distance suddenly seemed to double. I knew in the back of my mind that they would go back and so when they told me a month ago they were selling the house, I wasn't surprised. And of course now the problem arises that in their six years away the house prices in England have whizzed up much faster than in France, so they are going to have to seriously downgrade.

The story of Peter and Jane is probably not exceptional - there are many that go back after a lot of blood, sweat and tears trying to make a go of it. I miss them a great deal but probably will see more of them when they get back to England than since I have moved to Switzerland.

SNOWED IN...

2007-03-23T10:55:00.000+01:00

...thus the third and hopefully last blog today.

Below is the link for the Hugs advert that is running in France at the moment - this is the full length version.

http://www.dailymotion.com/visited/search/free%2Bhugs/video/x1ehd3_free_hugs_a_paris

I can't link it so have put it in Blogger Friends as 'Hugs'

A PASSPORT GRUMP

2007-03-23T09:10:00.000+01:00

All those applying for a passport for the first time in England, will now have to 'pass' a test to make sure they are who they say they really are. The answers to the questions I suppose will be included on the passport chip. The price of a passport will go up a staggering 30% (at time of writing).

Below is a list of a few of the possible questions that may be asked, published in the Telly the other day. I cannot answer questions 4, 5 and 8. I am English and haven't lived in England for 25 years - I had a NI number once upon a time - does it still exist, am I entitled to it (doubtful), how do I go about inquiring. Car registration number - we have so manys goddamn numbers to remember that are more important. Bank sort code - ?

1 What was your mother's maiden name?

2 When is her birthday?

3 In which town was your father born?

4 What is your National Insurance number?

5 What is the registration number of your family car?

6 What is the occupation of the person who countersigned your application?

7 How long have you known him/her?

8 What is the sort code of your bank?

9 How long have you lived at your current address?

10 Where did you live before that?

Say, for example, I am applying now for my first passport. I am asked for the registration number of my car. Okay, I learn this by heart for Question Time. Within the following ten years, say I change my car three times ... is my passport chip updated or am I supposed to remember the registration number of the 2007 car. I arrive at JFK, and my car registration number doesn't correspond, what next - thrown into prison, put back on the next 'plane?

Since the increase on security checks in London's airports, I have missed two 'planes - simply by being stuck in a queue. Hundreds of flights leave within minutes of each other, but there are only four security checks open, dealing with hundreds and hundreds of people. Despite doing exactly as one is told, one handbag, no sharp instruments, liquids in plastic bags etc. etc. etc. one still has to take off your coat, take off your shoes, empty your pockets, be frisked and risk having your bag rifled through, even if it has been through the Xray machine. On my last but one trip through Gatwick security wanted to confiscate my fountain pen (yes, one of those old-fashioned things that leak ink everywhere) as I could have stabbed someone in the eye. A bit of a hoo-ha ensued and I think the handcuffs were not far away - fortunately there was the beginning of a riot behind me as people waited so security decided it was easier to let me through...

On my last trip London to Geneva I checked in three hours before the flight and still found myself doing a sprint for the 'plane (everyone clapped as I boarded - how many hours did they check in in advance?).

So now we have to add Question Time to the check in times - soon going across the Pond will be quicker on the QM2, and a damned sight more civilised!

And finally, a super grump about the countersigning of passport photos - it is IMPOSSIBLE to fit all the information required on the back of a passport photo. Fortunately I am not classed as someone who can countersign a photo, otherwise the person applying would have to have an A4 size photo in order for me, with my big, round handwriting to be able to fit in that so and so has been known to me for x years and that the photo is a likeness and my name, full address, qualifications etc. etc.

There we are, that feels better!

UN WEEKEND EN FRANCE

2007-03-23T06:35:00.000+01:00

Next weekend my son and a group of friends are off to la Clusaz skiing. A weekend of 'Ride and Ragga'.

I haven't yet discovered what Ragga is - when I ask if I could listen to some, the reply is invariably 'You'd hate it Mum, not your style at all' - translate as 'You're much to old to listen to Ragga'. This is probably quite true, but is part of 'keeping the dialogue going with your adolescent children' scheme of things, so instead of listening to some on the Internet I try and get my son to lend me his iPod for a couple of minutes to hear what Ragga is all about. So far, this hasn't been successful, but I doubt Ragga will turn my life around, and my hearing will stay intact for a few more years if I don't have an earphone plugged in whilst I hoover or take the dog for a walk!

What has amazed me is that the boys have actually managed to get their act together and organise everything. Although I have a fairly organised child, I still get things like 'I need such and such a book for tomorrow for the lycée'; this at 9 pm. (just go and get a shop opened up for me) and recently 'I need a passport size photo - can you do it for me tomorrow Mum?' HOW? Okay, this is boring stuff - a weekend away skiing with a group of friends is far more fun!

So for the princely sum of €100 per person, they have got a coach to ferry them there and back (one of the boys' father has a coach company), they have negotiated their ski passes by getting group rates, accomodation in a Youth Hostel and food. I'm sure it will be more than basic, but they will have a wonderful weekend as they have organised the whole thing themselves without any parental intervention. I reckon Sunday night he will be back, totally 'starved', with a rucksack full of smelly socks and teeshirts and with enormous bags under his eyes through lack of sleep!

So, proud as I am that he and his friends have managed to organise something by themselves, I realise suddenly that my 'baby' is no longer so - and that makes me feel a little sad and a little older! Pass the earphones!

THE LAST DAY OF SPRING

2007-03-17T16:52:00.000+01:00

UPDATE MONDAY EVENING : THE METEO WAS RIGHT! SNOW HAS BEEN FALLING MOST OF THE DAY AND IT'S -5 AND FALLING FAST!

Like many of you in warmer latitudes, we too have been having lovely spring weather here. Unfortunately the now emerging earth is not covered in daffs and snowdrops; normally at this time of the year we still have a couple of feet of snow in the garden - our spring flowers (and the early summer ones) all burst forth together in May and June. The few deciduous trees that we have show no sign of leaf buds yet and this is probably a good thing as tomorrow the weather changes and we move back to winter. Arctic temperatures, northerly winds and between 40-70cm of snow for Sunday night.

Fortunately the children bought me an enormous basket of narcissi for the Ste. Louise, so as the snow falls, they will remind me that somewhere fairly near it is springtime!

In the background of the photo you will see a tapestry cushion - I admit to being a tapestry fiend! Absolutely hooked - once I get going I can't stop. Actually I have four on the go at the moment (very dangerous as none get finished!) and I haven't looked at them for some time. I took them out earlier and have decided that until I can work out in the garden again I shall finish at least one of them. Like gardening, I find doing tapestry very therapeutic and apart from choosing the colours and threading the needle, the mind goes totally blank!

My grandmother taught me tapestry when I was young, but I have nowhere near her patience and production - she did tapestry seats for all the diningroom chairs, my grandfather's desk chair, a long footstool - there was no stopping her. Of course she eventually had to stop as her eyesight became too bad and I think actually that from that moment she started going downhill mentally. She rarely watched television, and I thought that if I watched less (not that I watch much) I too would have finished my four outstanding cushions!

My father could knit socks (so I was told) - do any of you have hobbies that are no longer 'fashionable'?

LA VENGEANCE EST UN PLAT QUI SE MANGE FROID...

2007-03-17T07:29:00.000+01:00

... n'est pas, Colin B?

I'm just leaving a heading here as later on I might post a new blog, which might or might not be interesting, and instead of it getting filled with in-fighting, I have left you a space on my soapbox! Personally I have no remarks to make on your new posting.

LES JEUX

2007-03-16T10:26:00.000+01:00

CITIUS ALTIUS FORTIUS

I remember when it was announced that England had won the race to hold the 2012 Olympic Games, my French friends said 'Thank God' and my English friends said 'Oh God' and it would appear the early prophesies are coming true. So far the budget stands at a staggering £9.3 billion. £9.3 billion? It looks like a typo, doesn't it? If I hit the nought button correctly this figure reads as £9,300000 000000 (I think!) and we are still five years away from the opening. I'm wondering whether they shouldn't be christened the Googol Games as the zeros just seem to be added on in a pretty willy-nilly fashion.

Much of the money is coming out of the Lottery (yet another stealth tax), so many projects that were hoping for Lottery financing are now quietly moving to the back burner. I am all for the Games, don't get me wrong, but I cannot honestly see how such a budget is justified, especially when one reads in the English press the measures being taken by the latest penny-pinching government to save a few quid. Only today in the Telly there was an article that refuse should only collected once a fortnight. What are they trying to do - bring back the Plague? Walk through any town in England the night before the refuse is collected - the bins are overflowing and if the litter was bagged, it has been torn apart by foxes.

With a bit of foresight, what a shame the 2012 Games were not held jointly by France and England. By 2009 the railway link between London and Paris will hopefully be finished so the travelling distance between the two cities has never so fast. We don't have to have all the atheletes in one place all together - the Winter Olympics in Turin were an example of this. We could have had the opening ceremony in London and the closing ceremony in Paris and shared out the various competitions between the two countries.

I reckon that if there were a referendum in England as to whether England should go ahead with the Games, I imagine a lot of people would vote for giving the French £5,000000 000000 to take it off their hands!

ON THE ROAD AGAIN...

2007-03-14T10:21:00.000+01:00

I am just trying to create a new blog, using Mac. It is very much in its infancy (it fact I would say that it is foetal at the moment) but I shall publish the link here to see if it takes you to where it should...

THIS LINK HAS BEEN REMOVED AS THE SITE HAS BEEN CLOSED DOWN

As I cannot link this (not on a Mac anway) I shall try putting it on 'My blog friends' so that clicking 'My new blog' should take you there directly.

PS This link doesn't work and neither does it work on MY NEW BLOG, so forget it! I have a Mac problem here soemwhere.

11.50 Colin had to copy and paste to get to my new site - I have been fighting for the last hour trying to get this link sorted out. EVENTUALLY I have just realised that the URL I posted under MY NEW BLOG was wrong and instead of typing in web.mac etc. I had typed www.mac

All this messing around - anyway you can now go to the blog links and it should send you to the new site. OUF!! So now that is sorted I shall start work on the new blog.

VISITORS TO THE BLOG

2007-03-13T18:11:00.000+01:00

Over the last couple of days I have installed NeoEarth and NeoCounter on my blog and a lot of fun it is proving to be! This morning I had a visitor from Croatia and one from Romania. Now, how did they find my blog? I have no idea as I have no contacts in either country. Unfortunately, they didn't leave a message - so if you read this, whoever you are, please stop by and say hello! I also have people from 'Europe' - where is that?

The system is not very accurate as when one first installs NeoCounter there is automatically a list of countries that have visited one's site - if the system is to be believed, there are loads of people in England that read my blog, but only a few read it on NeoEarth.

ColinB I know has been thinking of using this to root out the 'anonymice' that plagued 'us' the other week - as I have said to him, the system is amusing but not accurate. When I registered, the site decided I was in Bulle, which may well be where my ISP server is located...I live an hour and a half from Bulle! Apart from my Swiss ISP, I also have a Mac ISP, so I wonder where that is?

Anyway it is an amusing gadget and a great time-waster!

TEMPLATES

2007-03-13T12:39:00.000+01:00

What about blue? Less aggressive?

WALKIES, GUS!

2007-03-12T18:51:00.000+01:00

MétéoSuisse told me today that it was a day to be intelligent, the risk of migraine was zero and the day was perfect for outdoor activity - but the UV factor was 5, so loads of suncream was needed! Yes, apart from forecasting, MétéoSuisse also tells you how you should feel and what you should do with your day! A real cliché isn't it?

So armed with all this information, feeling highly intelligent, migraine-free and active, I set off with my wee small friend and his lead (and his poo bag). We huff and puff up a mountain - the house is at 1500m, the mountain at 1900m, the climb is pretty steep but arriving at the top, I felt so good and intelligent! On the way home we went through the golf course, which becomes a ski slope in winter. I'm sure that it must be a lovely course to play if you are a golfer as the views are wonderful. The snow was trash - la soupe. But it must have been about +15 this afternoon which is very warm for here at this time of the year. The snow is melting fast and there is still another six weeks to go before the end of the season; last year we had our best snow at the beginning of May when the resort was closed so guess who was driving children up the mountain as far as the car would go so that they could ski down?

On the way down, we passed skiers with very red faces who obviously hadn't read the UV warning and at one point I saw two girls in shorts, barefoot and eating ice cream - guess their nationality!

Although it was an intelligent day, I forgot to take my camera with me in order to photograph some breathtaking views, so I suppose me and me dog will have to re-walk the route tomorrow!

FIDDLING AROUND

2007-03-10T09:08:00.000+01:00

UPDATE TUESDAY 13TH MARCH

Well so far it seems the black blog is not having too much success - Gigi even said it even made her feel suicidal! But I shall stick with it for the moment or otherwise try and move to wordpress which is a much classier site!

Just thought I would add this photo of a Christmas decoration I saw outside a house; very easy to do and most effective I thought - a 'slice' of Christmas tree with branches at the same level at the bottom, tied together at the top and filled with fir cones...
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

What do you think of the blog in black? Do you find it easier to read or not? It comes up very well on my laptop and the photos, for what they are worth, are much sharper.

PARENTS

2007-03-06T18:00:00.000+01:00

Sarah over on her blog (sorry I can't link you to it directly here but you can click on my links at the side) is having problems with her 'Resident Ado' which many of us have either been through, are going through or will go through. My problem at the moment is not with the next generation but the precedent generation...

About three years ago my brother and his family, myself and my family and my Mum thought it would be a good idea to pool our ressources and buy a three generation/three family home. We worried estate agents, we trawled the internet and visited houses until we were so tired we couldn't remember what we had visited. We saw a couple of house that would fit the bill, but somewhere in the back of our minds, I think we knew that once the excitement died down, it might not be such a good idea after all. All the children were over the moon with the idea and wanted us to buy every house that had a swimming pool! Long story short, we all managed to find something wrong with the houses that were on the possible list, and gradually the idea fizzled out.

My Mum who is 78, has lived alone now for the last ten years since her companion died. She is in good health apart from glaucoma which has suddenly hit her, and has only recently been diagnosed. She lives in a dear little house and has some very good, helpful and charming neighbours. She still drives (too fast), enjoys going out and socialising, so all in all, she has nothing to complain about. Brother number 2 and I joke at times that she will sell the house and move into a home when the cat dies (he is now 13). The sale of the house would allow her to go into a very nice home and leave her income for incidental expenses, so she is in a lucky position.

Two months ago, the elder of my brothers died, which of course was traumatic for all of us, but particularly for Mum, who lost her eldest son. This is not in the order of things and must be the worst thing that can happen in a parents' life. Last week she started making 'noises' about me moving over there - buying a larger house with a granny flat, and of course, there begins my dilemma.

I cannot expect her to come and live in Switzerland - I can't take her away from where she has lived for the last 40 years and she would hate the winter here (even though the winters are far better than in England!). I cannot leave with my son still in school - I had a battle getting him out of the Swiss system and back into the French Baccalaureat, so I cannot expect him at the age of 16 to be dumped into the English system - the only solution there is to send him to the Alliance Française in London, which apparently is terribly 'recherché' now and the waiting list is impossible; he would have priority over the English children as he is French and has been educated in the French system all his life, but even that is no guarantee of a place...

I know that Mum is going through a terrible time at the moment and is desperate for her children; I know that things will start to get a little easier for her and that the loss of my brother will slowly become more bearable, but the problem concerning the rest of her life is not going to go away. She is frightened that she will sooner or later lose her sight and therefore her independence, so it either means a home or her living with either myself or my brother.

Even if she moves into a 5* home, it is a home none the less, and the idea of my mother being treated as a 3 year-old and being totally dependent on 'strangers' seems awful. But can I live with my mother? I know none of you can answer this question but perhaps you have coped with the same kind of problem, or are about to - if so, I would appreciate some feed-back.

SWITZERLAND GOES TO WAR

2007-03-03T07:08:00.000+01:00

Switzerland invaded Liechtenstein on Thursday night! With their Swiss Army Knives to the fore, they crossed the border in Liechtenstein, a little country that doesn't even have an army! A map-reading error was responsible for the invasion, during night manoeuvres, and of course as soon as the mistake was spotted, the Army retreated. The article in the Swiss press made me laugh, but I'm sure that complaints will be made in high places.

All Swiss men over the age of 18 have to do military service, unless they have a medical reason. Every year they must go back into the Army for three weeks, mainly for rifle practice. Reservists are called up for the 3 weeks until they are in their mid-30s or until they have done approximately a year of military service. For those working, they are paid 80% of their salary by the Confederation during their re-training periods. They keep their uniform and their weapon at home, complete with 50 rounds of ammunition, which is to be used only in self-defence getting to a base, should war be declared. The entire Swiss army can be mobilised within 12 hours, should there be a war.

Of course, jokes about the Swiss Army, their penknives, etc. abound, both here and in other countries. However, I feel that perhaps there is just a tinge of jealousy somewhere. Being a rich country, the Armed Forces are extremely well-equipped and approximately 70% of the population are for military service. Being a Confederation, when new equipment is needed, the question is put to a referendum and the citizens vote how and if their money should be spent. Recently 57% of the population voted for the buying of F-15 fighters.

There are of course those who are against keeping up an Army (and a small elite Air Force), arguing that the men would be better deployed in the police force, or that expensive equipement could be rented from the commercial market, if needs be. However, the Swiss that I have talked to about this seem to be fairly pro-army, and accept that doing military service is part of the price to pay.

Once a month the air-raid siren goes off in the village, just to test it is still working. This is only used nowdays as an avalanche warning that might affect the village.

Until a couple of years ago, all Swiss houses had to have a fall-out shelter incorporated into their house; it had to be stocked with basic food, water etc., and the population were asked to make sure that nothing had passed its sell by date. We have a bunker in our chalet, which has now been converted into a bedroom. We still have the door which looks exactly like those in bank vaults and is so heavy it takes two people to shut it and there is also a shutter for the window made the same way, but it isn't on a hinge, so seems to weigh even more than the door - this is now dumped in the garden, as no-one can lift it!

So jokes there may be, but comforting to know that here one probably needs no more than a Swiss Army Knife!

THOSE WERE THE DAYS, MY FRIEND...

2007-03-01T07:00:00.000+01:00

...oh, no, they weren't!

Last night I had a dream/nightmare about school. This fortunately doesn't happen too often, but was probably provoked by finding some letters the other day that I had sent to my father when I was at boarding school. Goodness, what a load of rubbish! Pages of waffle about 'best friends' with ridiculous nicknames, who, of course, I no longer even remember. The school timetable and the menus are still engraved on my heart, all these years on. After three hours of class Saturday morning we had Letter Writing from 11 a.m. for one hour. It was obligatory to write to one's parents, and if you had time left over, you were allowed to write to other members of the family or friends - if that 'friend' was on the list of suitable receivers of letters furnished by parents at the beginning of each term! We were not allowed to seal the envelopes, as the letters were censored before being sent.

Incoming mail had to have the senders' name and address on the back of the envelope, otherwise it was opened and read and all parcels were opened, just in case some parent thought of smuggling in SWEETS! Letters were distributed after lunch and after supper (remember the days when there was a morning and an afternoon delivery by the Royal Mail?).

Letters were our only contact with 'the outside world' and so, of course, used as blackmail. If we were, either collectively or individually, rowdy or misbehaved, mail was stopped and given out the following day...

There was no telephone for us to use and non of the common rooms had TV apart from the 6th form, and that was limited to an hour in the evening, and a member of staff would choose the programme. If there was nothing suitable, they didn't watch TV! During my time at school, I saw two programmes - the first landing on the Moon and the funeral of Winston Churchill. Our knowledge of what was happening in the outside world was limited to one copy of the Telegraph posted on the general noticeboard and even that was censored - offending articles were cut out, meaning that a large chunk of a non-offending article on the following page was missing! The paper was put up at midday and taken down at 6pm. During that time we had a half an hour of free time before tea, but had to change from day uniform to evening uniform, and if you were on the bath rota, the chances of reading the paper were next-to-none. One paper for 200 children with only a few minutes to read it - most of the time we gave up.

We had one exeat per term which ran from Saturday midday to Sunday at 6p.m. Those that lived the other end of the country either went to stay with a school chum going home for the weekend, or stayed at school. I hated the drive back to school, sitting in the back of the car feeling miserable, with 'Sing something simple' on the radio, as no-one could think of anything to say. A quick goodbye, and then back to the endless, hospital green corridors gleaming in the neon lighting, into supper which on Sunday night was a lump of Cheddar cheese, and a lump of pressed dates and an orange. To this day I cannot eat dates.

My brother too has awful memories of boarding school; he too dreams of it at times. However, I think, and hope, that we were the last generation that were treated in such a Dickensien manner - my half-brothers had a much easier time.

My school eventually closed down when I finished the 5th form. I went past it in the autumn - it is now a secured residence full of mock-Georgian houses - things don't really change much, do they?

This is a photo of the façade of my school - it never looked so smart in my day; this photo was taken by an Old Girl a couple of years ago, now that it has been converted into des. res! In my day the drive up to the school was full of pot-holes, straggly pines, overgrown cupressus, lanky laurel bushes - now it is all landscaped and very grand!

GIGGLE FOR THE DAY

2007-02-27T17:30:00.000+01:00

The guy who makes these videos makes me laugh - see youTube for others!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFLS_RexrWA

Sorry, I can't direct you to the address directly (Mac and blogspot don't make for happy familes).

PHOTOS

2007-02-27T15:33:00.000+01:00

'My mountain' seen from my office window, reappeared this morning, all blanketed in white

This tree could have been one that decorates Christmas cakes, but it is life-size

The street this morning after the snow plough had been through

Proof of what my son and friends get up to on the slopes, using my camera!

My son's autoportrait taken with PhotoBooth on the new Mac - although this must be a photo of the image on the screen. It reminds me of the posters that were in the Beatles album. Was it Sgt. Pepper's? Only my lad is far more gorgeous that the four Beatles put together!

And finally, three more photos taken by Pierre

BICKERING ON THE BLOG

2007-02-26T06:44:00.000+01:00

My post, Microsoft for Mac, is now nearing the 100 comments. Unfortunately only about a dozen remarks have anything to do with the subject! Sometime during December, the same thing happened - I passed the 100 mark, not because of the subject, but because of in-fighting.

As many will remember, there were frequent discussions on the Telegraph blogs, about 'blue pencilling' - readers/writers complained that some of their comments were struck off for no apparent reason - but as no-one else other than the writer of the post and the guards at the Telly saw the remark, it was impossible to comment on the rights or wrongs of having a posting censored.

I make no pretence to write a political, intellectual, cultural blog. I do not want to get involved in various arguments that can be too sensitive ... you have all seen that my blog is just snippets of my everyday life, and I would think that a large majority of women who do blog, write the same kind of thing, or so it would seem from the blogs I have read.

So I would like your opinion on a couple of things when the blog fills with in-fighting.

1. Should I not allow 'Anonymous' comments? (But the Anonymous in question can easily type in any old name...)

2. Should I strike off all comments that personally attack another blogger?

3. If doing so, should I explain why?

4. If you are an anonymous blogger, would you continue blogging if you had to use a name? Not necessarily your real name but 'another name'?

It would be interesting to have your feed-back, but try and keep it short and I will, in this particular case, strike off any personal attacks towards another blogger as the discussions on my Mac posting over the last couple of days have been getting rather heated, to say the least!

WE'RE ALL GOING ON A SUMMER HOLIDAY...

2007-02-25T07:24:00.000+01:00

Do you remember that awful song by Cliff Richard? Last night I dreamed of summer, nothing definite, but it was warm and green and 'summery'. Perhaps this was because it was snowing when I went to bed.

So I started thinking about summer holidays this morning, and decided to pick your brains. I try and get away for two or three weeks in the summer with the child, who will have just turned 16. It is the time of the year that we offer each other some 'prime time' as between the lycée, skiing and mountain biking, we don't meet up too often during the year and I know that holidays with parents will soon be a thing of the past! So basically I am looking for a holiday that will please both of us - we 'did' New York a year and a half ago and both of us had a fabulous time.

Personally, I'm not too fussy - not worried about the weather, as long as it isn't too hot; don't think we would want to be in a city in the summer, but perhaps 30 minutes or so from one. I would like to be on the coast. Either Europe or North America.

A couple of things that have crossed my mind : what about a house swap? Have any of you done this or have friends that have done it? What about renting a National Trust property in England? Eastern Europe (Roumania, Hungary etc.)? No Disney land, thank you! Great for kids of 9, but no go for 16 year olds (and their mother!!).

My daughter has been offered a job in San Francisco - she is off on a fact-finding mission in May/June and if all goes well, will probably stay on - going out there could be a possibility although all those hours in a plane turn me off, but of course there are the XGames in CA which my son would probably die for.

The academic year ends the 3rd week of June and they go back the 3rd week of August, so we need to fit in with those dates.

So, any ideas? Tell me about your holidays - even places to be definitely avoided!

MICROSOFT FOR MAC

2007-02-23T07:42:00.000+01:00

Well, I've done it! A minute proportion of my Mac's hard drive has been allocated to Bill Gates and his totally awful system! And I am trying to type this post on it! No mean feat, I can tell you! Having got used to my new Swiss keyboard, when I installed XP it only recognises American keyboards, thus I am now playing a guessing game as to where the letters are (back to qwerty) and especially, the symbols. The @ sign has now gone back to above the 2 as opposed to ALT G, the () are above 9 and 0 and not 8 and 9, etc. etc. So excuse the typos.

It would seem however that one can jolly up the posts on Microsoft - already I see more options are available, like italics, colour, etc. and I suppose I can pick things off the internet to add to a post. At the moment I cannot add photos as I have no photos in my album here. But will I use Microsoft? I think not - the laptop grinds away, makes funny indigestion noises, every two minutes a warning sign of some kind flashes up on the screen about viruses, my trackpad no longer has the speed of a scuttling mouse but that of a large slug and the graphics are just downright ugly. Much of this could be improved if I made the effort, which I might do eventually, but I can see why Apple refuses to recognise the Microsoft system - I feel as though I am working on a computer that is ten years old - I used a PC ten years ago and in that time, nothing has changed. It is fussy, boring and totally lacks imagination.

Sorry all you Microsoft users out there (like 98% of the population) but it pains me so see this sleek machine adulterated!

PS. This bit is written on Mac - with no warning, Microsoft closed down as I had no battery left. Was in rather a panic as I am wary of Microsoft and wouldn't have been surprised if something very nasty had happened. Mac warns me when I am low on
battery and you have enough time to plug into the mains...hey, ho!

LA CREME DE LA CREME

2007-02-21T17:55:00.000+01:00

The other day we went to visit Gruyères - a small hilltop village famous for its 'Crème de Gruyères'. I hasten to add that this is not some awful processed cheese out of a tube, or wrapped in little bits of tinfoil in a box, but a wonderful, thick, fattening and divine double cream as you can see from the spoon standing up in the tub.

It has become one of my local tourist trips for the non-skiing visitors, being about an hour and a half from Verbier, north of Montreux and off the motorway leading to Berne. After leaving the car in the car park at the bottom of the hill, there is a little uphill climb of about five minutes to the village. It is in fact more of a hamlet than a village - one immediately arrives on the main square/middle of village, which is pretty and cobbled. A few souvenir shops, a couple of restaurants, a couple of shops selling cream and meringues, and that is about it. At the top of the village is the Chateau de Gruyères, which is most imposing and which I eventually managed to visit for the first time the other day. Dogs are allowed virtually everywhere in Switzerland, but not in castles, so my little black friend had stayed at home with a pigs' ear to chew (yes, they are disgusting but Gus loves them!).

We had a quick look in the church which is under the chateau, but of no particular interest, apart from the fact that it was SOOO clean and well-organised (they probably have under floor heating) and had a most antiseptic feel to it. The graveyard was more interesting. Amongst the rather ugly modern gravestones, were a few of the old style typical crosses with a little 'roof' protecting the sculpture (usually a Christ). These roofs are made out of thin 'tiles' of wood and are beautifully put together. I have added a couple of photos of roofs made in this manner, although the houses no longer have them - if they ever did?

From the church we went up to the chateau and set off to explore. The chateau has been heavily restored inside, although the interior courtyard doesn't give that impression. The chateau was obviously a fortress originally and was probably restored during the 16th century.

It was then partially modified in the early 19th century, to make it more habitable. There isn't much rhyme nor reason to it - one goes from a Renaissance room to a Louis XIV décor, but despite its imposing exterior, the rooms inside are 'small' and it has a homely atmosphere to it. Not much furniture and it was a shame that the fires weren't lit, which gives chateaux a very different atmosphere (such as Chambord, where there is no furniture, but with the fires burning in the winter, the visit is lovely).

The last owner was the Bovy family, who I imagine are a well-known family of Swiss painters but I didn't find out anything about them, and in the chateau there are quite a few fairly good portraits painted by a Bovy and one of the rooms has panels decorated by Camille Corot - totally unprotected from fingers and light, but still...!

We had lunch sitting outside at the Hotel de la Poste, where the food is good but simple (especially when one sees the number of tourists in the summer - the quality is consistant). I had an enormous plate of roast beef (bien saignant) served with a homemade tartare sauce made with 'crème de Gruyères' which was to die for, accompanied by loads of freshly cooked vegetables and a rösti, followed by a lovely fresh fruit salad and an espresso - 30CHF. Not expensive for such a touristy place, I think.

The photos I have added in rather a willy-nilly fashion - blogspot is Not Mac friendly and although I have now put the horrid Windows on my Mac, I hate it so much that I haven't plucked up the courage to use it for blogging. Sorry, the tub of cream will appear later! And the other photos, as blogspot is playing up and it's impossible to download photos!

BOOKWORM

2007-02-19T18:18:00.000+01:00

Rather a heterogeneous bunch, the four books I am about to comment on but after finishing the first one, it was time for a little light relief.

My first book 'Les Bienveillantes' by Jonathan Littell is grandiose. If you read easily in French and haven't read it yet, then go out immediately and buy it. 'Les Bienveillantes' won le prix Goncourt and le grand prix de l'Académie Francaise this year - something that leaves me a little wary usually, but this is definitely a great book. Jonathan Littell is the son of the novelist Robert, and although totally bilingual, he chose to write the book in French and beautifully written it is too. Published by Gallimard, it is a BIG book in every sense of the word; 900 pages of small type on good quality paper makes it a heavy book, especially for night readers such as myself.

'Les Bienveillantes' ('The Kindly Ones' is its temporary English title) tells the fictional story of Maximilien Aue, an SS Obersturmbannführer (Lieutenant Colonel) during World War 2 who is posted to the Eastern Front and is then muted to deal with the problems in the concentration camps, trying to improve conditions of the prisoners so they are able to work in the factories turning out munitions for the German army that is almost defeated.

It is interesting to read a book from a German point of view on the last war - it doesn't however excuse the horrors that happened or explain them; it is simply the story of a young bourgeois man who gets thrown into something he cannot handle - physical sickness, drunken orgies, homosexuel relationships - he loses his mind trying to come to terms with the horror that is thrown at him daily, and continually harking back to an incesteous affair with his sister.

It is a terrifying book, some of the descriptions make one feel weak at the knees, but worth every single page.

After finishing such a book, I then needed something light and silly and found it in two books I was offered for Christmas - Molvania (A land untouched by modern dentistry) and Phaic Tan (Sunstroke on a shoestring) - both published by Atlantic Books under the Jetlag travel guide. A spoof on Lonely Planet. Both are ficticious - loosely based on Eastern Europe and Asia, but are a hoot! There is a new one out based on South America. They are written exactly like a guide book but the information is complete rubbish (or is it?) - great to flip through and to have a really good laugh - as Bill Bryson said 'Brilliantly original and very, very funny'.

And finally, I have just finished 'A short history of Tractors in Ukrainian' bz Marina Lewycka and published by Penguin. The story in told by the younger of two sisters - the elder born during the War in German-occupied Ukraine and the second born ten years later in post-war Britain. It is the story of their widowed emigré father who falls for, and marries, Valentina, a Ukranian gold-digger 40 years his junior, who only wants marriage for the passport. It is very drole, the family trying to make the father see that Valentina is only after him for his pension and his passport and the descriptions of Valentina are lovely with her boil-in-the-bag cuisine, amongst other things. There is also the darker side of the story - the escape of the family from the Ukraine which is reveals through the story, but a good book about families, skeletons in the cupboard, and a most delightful read.

IF I WAS A RICH (WO)MAN

2007-02-11T15:45:00.000+01:00

Lolling in bed this morning along with the animal kingdom of the house, I was trying to think of a new subject for my blog. I should try and write a new post on a book that I have read and enjoyed, but that is not a job for a Sunday. And neither is housework, which I have now abandoned for the day. One of the other ideas was a posting on what I would do if I was rich and having just ironed 6 bolster covers, 4 rectangular pillowcases and 8 square pillowcases (I mean, where do they come from?) I have now decided that this is a good subject, and shall start off with :

1. A lady does that all my ironing

2. A lady that cleans my house (could be No.1)

3. A person that does all my boring shopping for me (like loo paper, toothpaste etc) so that I could devote my time to buying yummy things

4. A chauffeur for long trips (preferably handsome!)

5. A large and gorgeous chalet with indoor pool, jacuzzi etc.

6. Someone to walk Gus when it is chucking it down (could be No. 4)

7. Someone to sort out all my paperwork and make sure the bills get paid on time

8. Lots of short break holidays within Europe throughout the year, being driven by the chauffaur so I wouldn't have to use crappy low-cost airlines

9. Fly first class on long haul

10. Visit St. Petersberg

That's just for starters and I'm sure that there a lot more things - but unfortunately I'm not rich (perhaps I should play the Euromillion). And if I had all the above and more, what would I do, life would be most boring!

What would you do with your millions - and I know I have left out helping family and friends and giving money to charity. This is a Selfish Sunday.

TWITTER, TWITTER

2007-02-06T06:38:00.000+01:00

It was cheering to know I was missed in blog land so without further ado let's get this blog up and running again, albeit briefly as I haven't really got my act together yet.

As the regulars know, the eldest of my brothers died three weeks ago very suddenly, so it was a case of downing tools and getting the first 'plane back to England to be with Mum who was, as you can imagine, totally knocked sideways. Whatever the age of one's children, it is not in the order of things to be predeceased by them...

The process of getting him home for the funeral was long and complicated and we have had to deal with autopsies and eventually an inquest as he died at his home, but we got there in the end and last week he was cremated in Guildford on a gloriously sunny day, which funnily enough is very comforting at such a difficult time.

Back here in Switzerland, my son has been totally brilliant and I am very proud of him coping by himself for three weeks (my daughter has been overseeing operations) - he shopped, cooked and cleaned for himself during that time and although the chalet is rather muddled, I didn't get home to piles of dirty plates and tons of washing! He did admit last night that it was good to eat green vegetables again as he hasn't had any since I went away!!

I have a pile of bills/letters waiting to be opened but my new Mac arrived during my absence, so I have been twiddling with it, getting it up and running - I am trying to resist the temptation to spend the day on it, as I have the family arriving in a few days and things do kinda need sorting out here. I haven't transferred all my rubbish from the old Mac to the new one, but am busy trying to go through the files and keep the strict minimum - rather a long process but worth it in the end I hope. My new Mac has a Swiss keyboard which is virtually the same as the English one except the z and the y are inversed so my typing has slowed down - all the y's in this post started life as a z! It does have accents though, which will make typing in French easier, but no euro sign (at least not visible on a key) - only $ and £.

Quite a few remarks on England to make, but will leave that for another day! Just to let all of you off skiing for the half-term that the snow is on its way so conditions next week should be good!

AULD LANG SYNE

2007-01-08T10:21:00.000+01:00

This morning I now know that Christmas and New Year are definitely over, for the following reasons:

1. The changeling and I were up at 5.30 this morning as school restarts.

2. I have reinstalled my 'office' on the dining room table.

3. I have a pile of sheets, towels and duvet covers as high as the Swiss Alps to wash.

4. The dining room table has some shrivelling tangerines lurking, a few lychees, and left-overs of a basket of dried fruit.

5. I took down the Christmas cards, but haven't the heart to dismantle the tree which has held up well outside, despite onslaughts from the cat.

6. I paid my outstanding bills but fear to look at my latest bank statement.

7. There is a distinctly nasty smell coming from my fridge as things got pushed further and further to the back during the holidays - heaven knows what I shall discover!

8. I'm sure my dish-washer heaved a sigh of relief when I emptied it this morning.

9. I have an empty bottle mountain outside the door which must get the postman wondering, so time to sneak off to the bottle bank and dispose of them.

10. Angus is sulking in a corner as his chum 'Reglisse' has gone back to France.

11. Cat number 2 has come home as Reglisse has gone!

12. and finally, it's QUIET! The road outside the house has returned to normal after two weeks of pretending it was the M4 in the rush hour, the free buses that go round the village all day are practically empty so you can travel in safety without being knocked out by a pair of skis, stabbed by poles or stamped on by ski boots and so now I shall quietly clear up, throw away mouldy food, wash and iron, put away all the extra pairs of skis that the children recover from 'les poubelles' and get ready for Brother Number 2 who arrives in five weeks' time with his family!

THE ASHLEY TREATMENT

2007-01-06T07:54:00.000+01:00

What do you think of the Ashley Treatment that has been in the news over the last couple of days?

My first reaction on reading the article in the Telly was yuck ... how sick can you get, stunting a childs' growth on purpose so that she remains small and light enough to carry around and handle.

However, I then went onto the blog set up by her parents which relates what they have done and how they went about it, and admit to changing my mind after reading it. The blog is clear, concise, intelligent and written by a couple who obviously have their daughters' welfare at heart and seems to me to be a very sensible solution to such a dramatic situation.

In such cases, one cannot even vaguely imagine how peoples lives must be turned upside down caring for a child who will never inter-react with the world. It must truly be heartbreaking and reading about such cicumstances makes me thank God that I have two healthy children.

If you haven't read the blog, do so...

The link to the blog is http://ashleytreatment.spaces.live.com/blog/

SNOW FOR THE NEW YEAR

2007-01-03T08:14:00.000+01:00

It has now been snowing heavily for the past 48 hours and here in the village we have a metre of fresh snow. Getting around is becoming increasingly difficult as the council send out armies of snow ploughs to clear the roads, followed by the little trucks that whoosh salt everywhere. Every 100 metres there is an enormous mountain of snow on the road left by the snow plough which is then disposed of by yet another machine that sucks up the snow and spits it into a huge truck following it - you will have to excuse my vagueness regarding the names of all these machines - I should ask the child but he is still asleep trying to recover from being unpaid ski-instructor to our visitors! Yesterday morning I spent an hour and a half freeing the car from its woolly white coat and clearing the drive - the rather unpleasant next-door neighbour (Swiss German) stood and watched me with a smirk on his face as the private contractor he uses came and cleared his drive in 3 seconds, but I felt very righteous afterwards thinking of all the exercise I'd had, working off the Christmas excess and giving my poor old lungs a hefty dose of fresh air!

My poor little chalet is bursting at the seams with visitors and all that this entails living in a ski resort - getting to the front door is now a major obstacle course with seven pairs of skis and poles trying to remain upright, the boiler room is full of ski boots and I can no longer get to the washing machine and tumble dryer and the hall is full of hats, bonnets, enormous anoraks (everyone seems to have brought 2 with them), various boots, shoes, slippers etc.

My ex arrived on the 28th, full of cold and feeling awful - so was dosed up with homeopathic medicine and sent off to bed to recover (I'm sure his wife makes sure he gets a cold before sending him to me...miaouw!), but he was excused as he arrived laden with wine and loads of homemade terrines. Also he was very valiant and came food shopping with me for New Year, so I forgive him. My other visitors arrived very, very late at night on the 30th - M + E, their daughter A who is the same age as Pierre and is her 'adopted' brother, a great friend M-C and the family dog, a King Charles who has a snore greater than that of my ex (and that is saying something!).

We had a lovely New Year's Eve feast here with far too much 'fruits de mer' and loads and loads and loads of champagne. Just before midnight the four under 25's went off to the town centre to see in the New Year and meet up with their friends, whilst we 'oldies' stayed here. And boy! was it worth it - from 11pm there were fireworks going off everywhere and once the excitement had died down after midnight the town put on their display which lasted for an hour and a half! I'm not really a great fan of fireworks but this was definitely something else. The weather was very mild, as the snow hadn't yet started to fall, so we were all in the street outside the chalet getting stiff necks; the kids were shoulder to shoulder in the town centre and didn't see the display - for one thing they couldn't move and also were busy avoiding the champagne-swilling Eurotrash who were busy throwing empty champagne bottles around - by 1am you are ankle-deep in broken glass in the town centre. Sounds like fun, doesn't it? The municipality even cut down the Christmas tree on the main square during the afternoon of the 31st to stop people climbing up it - although it is securely fixed, it is not strong enough to support those who decide they MUST climb up it.

The New Year celebrations have been very special to us this year as M has terminal cancer and in my heart of hearts I feel that this might well be his last New Year, so it was marvellous that we had a front row view for the fireworks and that the village is now covered in snow and looking its best. However there is no sadness or embarassement or whatever - we go on as normal, although M seems to have an okay day and then the following day is tired and retires to the sofa. His wife is a doctor so organises all his pills and injections, so apart from a trip to the surgery yesterday to get a blood test done, things are pretty 'normal'. M had a negative day yesterday, so we hope that today will see him 'en forme' and ready to do a bit of skiing with the others - we shall see...

To finish on a lighter note, my little friend Angus, who is a St. Bernard at heart, has had to curtail his outdoor activities until the snow hardens up a bit as he now totally disappears in the fresh snow and is stuck to the path I have cleared to the car and the logs for the fire. Cat number 2 has decided he is not going out at all and apart from the essentials, has now taken up residence on my bed!

FRANCO SUISSE ENTENTE 2

2006-12-28T08:27:00.000+01:00

Actually this should be a simple P.S. to the last post.

Nightmare trip to Meribel - up over the mountains which were all very pretty but definitely needed a metre or two of fresh snow to make them look totally 'carte postale' and as soon as we got into France, the traffic was atrocious - it was like being on the M4. Holidaymakers everywhere wandering around looking lost and probably the lack of snow on the lower slopes had driven them into the town to seek other amusement.

We arrived late in Meribel which is a purpose built ski resort and is most attractive, met up with the family and had lunch. This was okay (I can't say too much against it, as I wasn't paying the bill) but could have been much better for the price (yes, restaurants here in Verbier are cheaper...), the restaurant itself was very nicely decorated - all alpine, and cow bells and such like. The staff were totally useless and were more interested in their fleeces with the name of the restaurant embroidered on them, than serving the clients...they weren't rude but we didn't get one smile out of any of them and we waited soooo long. They haven't been working for more than a month yet, so God help the skiiers who arrive for the February holidays.

So after catching up on family news, off home we set. After driving up the first mountain with a zillion cars coming towards us, we decided to opt for the longer route and come home through Geneva and the motorway. Got home at 9 p.m. and went to bed!

The child wisely decided to stay at home for the day and I am sure he had more fun skiing over stones than we did! From Brother Number 3 I hear the snow is 'Okay' in Meribel but not wonderful.

FRANCO SUISSE ENTENTE

2006-12-27T08:27:00.000+01:00

Today I am taking the child and Brother Number 4 (who is staying over the Christmas period) to visit Brother Number 3, who is staying in Meribel with his family - the child will be off testing out the snow (or lack of) on the Meribel pistes, while we struggle to a restaurant to have lunch. My little four-legged friend will probably come too, as left at home for the day, he does tend to think he is on a seek and destroy mission.

The road from Verbier down to Martigny is not my most favourite but from Martigny going up to the frontier and over into Chamonix the scenery is gorgeous - better with loads of snow but often impracticable if it does snow. Verbier to Meribel is only 170km but will probably take two and a half hours plus stops for photos, coffees, a couple of sniffs for Angus - so soon I shall have to courageously wake the sleepers.

I am interested to discover whether Swiss ski resorts are in fact more expensive than those in France - I have my doubts. As far as restaurants are concerned, we have had some pretty grim experiences in French resorts, served by surly, overworked staff and pretty crap food - here in Verbier I can honestly say I have never had a bad meal and even at the end of the season the staff are polite and smiling, but maybe this is because they are paid two or three times more than their French counterparts.

I shall rely on the child for the snow conditions. After the heavy fall of snow about a fortnight ago, we have had no fresh falls - fortunately the temperature at night is between -5 and -8 so the snow cannons are working flat out. But every day is warm and sunny so the snow is melting fast. Pierre's new skis are totally wrecked already as he spends his time skiing over stones so he is now waiting for the 'real' snow to arrive to have them totally overhauled. Accidents on the slopes are rife at the moment as skiing on stones does tend to stop you dead in your tracks! The village is full of people with their knees bound up and hobbling around on crutches. In his 'gang' one chum broke his pelvis the other day and had to be airlifted to hospital, another has pulled the ligaments in his knee so can't ski for the rest of the holidays and a third has whiplash. Apart from messing up his skis, mine has escaped lightly (touch wood) with bashed knees and elbows and a small rip in his ski pants, but with conditions as they are currently I admit to trembling when the 'phone rings, fearing its a call from the helicopter crew telling me to get to the hospital fast...

However, snow is forecast from the 30th December for a whole week, so hopefully my visitors arriving for New Year will have perfect snow conditions.

PASSPORTS

2006-12-20T06:31:00.000+01:00

Over the past six months, both my children have had to renew their passports. My son's went through without a hitch; my daughter had to have three lots of photos taken before the last lot were accepted, despite going to an accredited photographer and him measuring the distance between the top of her head and the top of the photo etc. etc. etc. At €20 a kick, this starts to be an expensive business for four awful photos that are refused. Fortunately there was no panic for the passport.

Reading the Telegraph on-line this morning, I noticed the article "Murder suspect fled under Muslim veil" which refers to the man wanted for questioning in the WPc Sharon Beshenivsky murder. He apparently stole his sister's passport and heavily veiled, he flew to Somalia.

I have no wish to get into a discussion on the pros and cons of Muslims wearing veils, but I am annoyed that we are put through a flaming hoop to have a photograph taken that is agreeable to the Passport Office - no hats, no glasses, no smile, no hair hanging over the forehead and yet this is not international.

I received the attached photo the other week from someone - the title was "Pointless family photo of the year"!!

I'll run the risk of having a fatwah taken out on me, you can all blog as 'mice' if this post worries you!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS?

2006-12-18T19:15:00.000+01:00

Apparently, one now says 'Happy Holidays' rather than 'Happy Christmas' - far more PC!

I have had a very, very, very long day! The child woke me at 3 a.m. with a migraine and poor old lad was rushing to the bathroom being ill until 6.30 a.m. Even adolescents need their Mum when the going gets tough, so I found myself ousted from my bed in the middle of the night as it was invaded by Pierre and Angus (who decided to play night nurse). When he eventually dropped off I was tempted to grab a duvet and crash out on the sofa, but I had to ring the school at 7.30 to say he wouldn't be in, and by that time it really wasn't worth trying to get any sleep.

But it was worth it - the Christmas tree is up and decorated and looking very regal on the terrace - as it is snowing, it even has real snow on its branches! All the Christmas presents are wrapped and labelled and I even did most of the food shopping this morning - the only awful bit was that at the check-out I dropped a glass bottle of oil which spashed everywhere - fortunately I didn't have tons of people behind me so we were able to clear it up without moans and groans from other shoppers!

I'm not going to even try and write anything vaguely intelligent this evening - added to which, everyone has been getting horribly bitchy in the last 24 hours and settling scores with each other, so it's not worth it!

I thought I would just ask you all what you are doing for Christmas - staying put, going somewhere exotic, forgetting the whole thing, whatever ... we are staying put through Christmas and New Year, with an invasion of family and visitors and on Christmas Day we are having an ENORMOUS piece of beef with homemade Bearnaise sauce! New Year will probably be a 'plateau de fruits de mer' and too much champagne. My ex has invited himself and arrives just after Christmas and will probably annoy Pierre who hates skiing with adults and is only interested in doing death-defying tricks 'hors piste', so somehow I have to accomodate 10 people, 2 dogs, 2 cats in the chalet and all the ski gear that goes with it for 10 days and of course feed them all!

So I am moving into 'taxi' mode for ferrying from Geneva to here, and chalet girl - I'm just hoping my new computer will appear for Christmas and everyone will rush off to ski, leaving me to get it set up, in between cooking and cleaning! But it's all fun and I love having the chalet full of people!

THE FIRM

2006-12-15T06:18:00.000+01:00

As mentioned, last night I went to see "The Queen" starring Helen Mirren. It's true that she is marvellous in the role, and of course the physical ressemblance is quite startling (it's the hair that does it!). The other actors weren't so good but of course didn't look too much like the people they were playing, but it must be very difficult to find actors that can act and look like a living person. Charles was pretty well interpreted and of course Cheri came over as her usual vulgar self.

What I didn't know/had forgotton, was the film was based on the period when Diana died and my toes started to curl. I was never a fan of Diana and I think she did a lot of harm to 'The Firm', confusing being part of the Royal Family with Hollywood. When she went on television to explain the breakdown of her marriage, she should have been banished from the kingdom, in my view!

And ten years on, we are still talking about Diana, with the report published on the causes of her death. As she was a 'star' and died in tragic circumstances, I fear that the saga will go on for years and years - as with JFK or Marilyn Monroe - theories and counter theories will keep on popping up, adding fuel to the fire.

What has really annoyed me is that the report just published has cost £3.6 million of taxpayers' money ... 'People's Princess' indeed - I hope the 'people' are happy to have paid for the report which states what we all knew from the beginning, chauffeur over the limit, no seat belts, and high speed. Could be any of us couldn't it? But we don't have a father that runs an Egyptian bazaar in Knightsbridge (aka Harrods) and has enough clout to con someone into ordering a report that will be paid for by the taxpayer.

I can understand that al Fayed is mourning his son and that everyone has their own way of coming to terms with such grief; that it has reached such dramatic proportions, is another thing. A niggle at the back of my mind wonders whether he is also mourning the fact that perhaps his ne'er do well son might have married the ex Princess of Wales and mother to the future King of England, and of course that carpet has now been ripped out from under his feet.

With his enormous wealth, Fayed should have paid for this report out of his own pocket.

I take my hats off to the French authorities who did their job extremely well, did everything they could to save Diana's life, who acted with modesty and honesty in the aftermath of the accident and were treated very badly by the British, along the lines of 'Right, well thank you very much, we'll take over the case now, as you lot have probably made a hash-up'. I hope the French government send HM government the bill for all the work they did. The only blot on their report is the Fiat that no-one can trace ... if I had been the driver of that car, I would have destroyed it as fast as possible and emigrated.

Of course, the Press come out of this badly - but if one is in the limelight it comes with the job and Diana realised she had a ally in the Press and used them accordingly. Unfortunately they were her undoing. A terrible and tragic accident.

As Disraeli said 'Never complain and never explain' - a shame that Diana never took heed.

MEATBALLS

2006-12-13T07:14:00.000+01:00

Well, it shows that I am becoming totally stupid as the years roll by. Yesterday I went to Ikea. It actually started out with good intentions. I had seen a leather reclining chair in there some time ago which, surprise, surprise, was out of stock. When I looked on their site yesterday morning, it was in stock ... but before driving for an hour and a quarter, I rang them to make sure...yes, it was in stock.

At the same time I decided I would buy my Christmas tree there. Christmas trees in Verbier are so expensive that it is a luxury and so I thought I'd do a little for the Planet and buy mine at Ikea as if you take it back after Christmas, you get a refund and the tree costs you €1.00. Now of course when you think about it, there is absolutely no rhyme nor reason to this. My weedy effort to take back a dead Christmas tree means that I am being totally counter-productive with all the litres of petrol I burn going up and down the motorway - added to which I suppose the shredded trees find themselves recycyled into Ikea furniture which I will then go and buy.

And quite frankly, am I going to fill the back of my car with pine needles that I will continue discovering until next year. And am I honestly going to drive for two and a half hours just to recycle my tree and not go into the store? No, of course not.

Anyway, the quandry was solved for me as they sold all their Christmas trees on the first day! So along with a zillion other people, into Ikea I go. All I wanted was a chair - which really was in stock. But 'just in case' I picked up a yellow bag, and that is fatal. So along with the chair, I come out with a standard lamp, two picture lights, yet another load of Christmas lights, six tumblers, a pack of their three pairs of scissors, a few bits for stocking fillers and a dog bed! And I promise, I am not a compulsive buyer!

They say that every home has at least one thing from Ikea in it - this I well believe. The store was heaving yesterday morning at 1015 and it was a Tuesday - a 'quiet' day! And of course, once I had finished the shopping it was time for a snack - I've decided that I don't like their meatballs any more!

When I got home my daughter arrived, fortunately ... armed with yet another Allan key, we fought for an hour to put the chair together. The chair comes flat packed and one 'just' has to unfold the seat and the back and insert two bolts into the hinge where they meet. Simple, no? NO! It is impossible to do by yourself unless you do bodybuilding, but after an hour of getting hot and sweaty and a copious amount of swearing, we got the bloody thing together. And guess where it was made? Yes, China of course! I will spare you the details of putting the picture lights up...suffice to say the second one is still in the box!

And do you know where "Monsieur Ikea" lives? No, not in China ... Switzerland!

The one positive note on the day - Angus loves his dog bed. It's big enough to hold a couple of labradors and he hasn't yet learnt that you get in it - but as I type he is lying next to it with his head resting on the squidgy surround!

INTERESTING PHOTO?

2006-12-12T18:58:00.000+01:00

No, we aren't going to continue with the guessing game with photos but can someone help? I photographed this strange monument in the summer of 2005 and have no idea where it was. It was taken in the Pyrenees as on the same day we visited St. Martin de Canigou - we stopped in the village for a picnic in the 'jardin public' next to the Mairie where we discovered this statue. It can't be far from St. Martin de Canigou.

BLOCKED DRAINS/BRAINS

2006-12-12T07:56:00.000+01:00

The dreaded bloggers block has struck today - you will all be pleased to hear! So, while awaiting inspiration and just to keep you all on your toes, it's competition day! Guess where the attached photo was taken. Absolutely no prize for the winner.

SWISS EDUCATION

2006-12-11T07:42:00.000+01:00

Since moving here last year, we have had a few ups and downs regarding Pierre's education. When we left France Pierre had just turned 14 and had finished the 3ieme, and would have moved into the lycee had we stayed. As soon as we arrived in mid-September we went to see the Headmaster of the local state school and Pierre was enrolled immediately.

What a school! After his 19th century crumbling and tatty Jesuit school in Toulouse, this was a joy to behold. It was sparkling - so much so, we thought it had been recently opened - in fact it was 15 years old! Everything was totally spotless and I have never seen equipment like it. In computer studies, each child had his own Mac (latest model of course!), the desks and chairs were designed for minimum slouching, the food in the canteen was first-class (and lots of it) and in the domestic science room, there were twenty or so brand new 'pianos' with their own preparation areas, sinks etc. which would have put most restaurant kitchens to shame.

Yes, they did domestic science, and they all loved it - and the food they brought home was highly edible too! There were also woodwork classes, sewing (Pierre made a pair of the most zany slippers I have ever seen!), iron work (I can't think of the right word right now), and all of this along with the usual lessons.

The Swiss have long ago seen the light, and have a highly efficient apprenticeship system - once a child is in his 15th year they can leave school, do an apprenticeship or go on to higher education if their end of year exams are conclusive. About half of Pierre's class have gone into a three year apprentiship and the other half into higher education. Before doing an apprenticeship the children do work experience during their last year at school, so that they can really judge what their chosen profession entails. And when they do start work they are paid a good salary. Which is hard for those who continue in school when they see their chums in an apprenticeship who have money to spend that they can only dream about!

In France putting a child into an apprenticeship is basically considered as a last resort - not bright enough to go to the lycee so put 'em into an apprenticeship to keep 'em off the streets...of course there are exceptions but basically it's a dead-end thing. They do all the crappy jobs no-one else wants and are paid peanuts.

The equivalent of 'A' Levels here is the Maturite (accent on 'e') Gymnasiale or the Matu as it is called. Pierre couldn't go into that stream as he only had 12/20 in German (but not bad going after only one year of studying the language), so he went into the Matu Pro which is more or less the same, only it is more difficult to get into University - the Matu Pro invariably go to what used to be called a Tech in England.

By half-term I had realised that this school was not for him - his homework was rushed off in 10 minutes, there was absolutely no enthusiasm about his school (they all 'hate' it but do occasionally say they like a particular teacher or they did something interesting) and when I went to the PTA, I came out knowing exactly why he wasn't settling - it was AWFUL!

So after a bit of trawling on the Internet, I found him a private school where the children can either study for the Matu or the French Bac - we went to see the Headmaster who invited Pierre to go to the school for a week free, and that he and Pierre would meet at the end of the week to see if a) he was up to standard and b) if he enjoyed the school and c) see if the teachers liked him. I informed the 'old' school that he was going for a weeks' trial, explaining that they could offer the Bac, and the 'charming' Headmaster said that if he left the school, he couldn't come back! I had to really bite my tongue to avoid telling him where he could get off to! So, a slightly stressful week, and joy on the Friday when he was accepted, and the following Monday he became a proper student.

The Matu is in fact the highest of all the European exams - but only recognised in Switzerland! Pierre will be doing the Bac 'L' and armed with that he can basically go to any university in Europe through the brilliant Erasmus system. The Matu students have to sit exams to get into other European universities - but the system is changing and Switzerland has realised that their children need to study abroad, even though they have some brilliant universities.

Unfortunately the private schools in Switzerland don't run on the 'means' test as in France, and they are easily the price of private schools in England - fortunately the new school doesn't have boarders so the fees are far more affordable. But worth it I hope - already he has found his motivation and is happy to be back in the French system - even though it does mean he still has a lot of work to do on his German and they start Italian this year too! So all those years of Spanish have served to no useful purpose, school wise! And if he passes his Bac, it is the equivalent of 6 A* in England...and it seems that in England now schools are fighting to get their names down to offer the IB to their students.

So hopefully that problem is sorted out - I'm sure I'm still lots of things wrong, but am working on it!

LAZY SUNDAY

2006-12-10T17:38:00.000+01:00

Just a few photos this afternoon as soon it will be time to light the fire, get supper ready and organise things for tomorrow "Have you done your homework?", "Is your phone charged?", "Is there anything for me to sign?", "Have you got your season ticket?" - usual sort of Sunday night stuff which I try to organise in the evening rather than at 530am!

Firstly a photo of a helicopter which was parked in the town centre yesterday for the "Jib night" competition, followed by one of kids organising the 'run' in one of the main streets. Actually it was a bit of a non-event this year, probably due to lack of snow until the last minute, and then so much the night before the event, I think they were overcome! I took the photo an hour before the competition started, and in no way were they ready.

The last two photos are of a little Mountain-ash tree in my garden, the berries just about managing to peep out from under the snow - it is greatly appreciated by the birds and unfortunately by my cats, who have sussed out that berries = birds. The last photo is just an icicle on one of the gutters - the gutters on the 'vieux chalets' are in fact pine trunks hollowed out and nowadays are lined with copper. If you look closely at the photo, you might just see the copper 'lip'. I had my gutters replaced last year - they weren't lined and were distinctly rotten - but they were 50 years old!

TWO PHOTOS

2006-12-09T10:21:00.000+01:00

A photo taken from my office/dining room window a couple of days ago - today however we can't see the mountains and there is a definite lack of blue sky! The second is of course of my friend Angus taken this morning!

SNOW DOGS

2006-12-09T07:50:00.000+01:00

My small, four-legged friend has just come in all stiff-legged after his morning 'sniff' - the fur on his legs and tum have been transformed into a gigantic snowball. 50cm of snow overnight, and still snowing - winter is here at last! My garden is now out of commission until the middle/end of May and apart from the earth under the fir trees, no more green will be seen on the ground until then.

And I love it! A good thing really, living in a ski resort up in the mountains! I love it because it is 'real' snow and it comes down in large amounts and therefore stays white - the town centre of course becomes a bit slushy and brown, but as the roads are continuously cleared we don't have lumps of dirty snow everywhere.

The snowplough was out hard at work at 530 this morning, followed by the lorry salting the road and the private contractors are already at work clearing the drives of the chalets. I am hoping that with the amount of snow that has fallen the snowblower will go past the end of my drive and clear the enormous mountain of snow the snowplough so kindly left as it went through! The 'car postale' which is the amazingly efficient bus system here in Switzerland, has only once in the last ten years been unable to get down the hill from Verbier ... my son catches it every morning to go down the hill to the station, and lives in hope that there will be enough snow overnight to stop it getting through! But he forgets we are in super efficient Switzerland where they are used to snow for five/six months of the year and that a ski resort you can't access, means a loss of squillions of francs!

The centre of town is going to be at sixs and sevens this weekend - the first event of the season kicks off with the 'Jib night contest this afternoon. The road going from the town centre up to the main ski lift is transformed into a boarding and skiing competition over obstacles; the organisers were looking very grim yesterday as there was no snow for them to use to prepare the jumps on the course; normally snow is stock-piled for the event but there has been nothing to stock-pile. Not so now! But they are going to have their work cut out to get the course ready. The event lasts through the day and there are stands selling food and drink, ski companies selling gear, an open-air cinema showing various skiing and boarding films, a mountain rescue helicopter on display, and after the prize-giving at 10pm, everyone is off to the clubs for the first winter parties!

Angus and I will try and totter down to the village this afternoon to see the event - we will have to go the 'long way round' down to the village, as the shortcut we normally use won't be cleared and the snow will be over the top of my boots and poor old Gus will just disappear! He has a luminous collar with flashing lights for night walking - what I need now is a little flashing light to attach to the tip of his tail!

Hopefully I will manage to get a few photos, if I can publish them is another matter as having scrapped Firefox I don't think I can put them on the blog - but will shall see tomorrow!

GOW ON CHRISTMAS

2006-12-08T06:25:00.000+01:00

Well, would you believe it? This grumpy old woman loves Christmas! The last few days the English press has been full of articles about how many offices won't be decorated this year as it isn't politically correct - what rubbish. And Nativity scenes without Jesus - I ask you. And all to appease 'minority groups' who apparently celebrate Christmas themselves. There was a big rumpus in France last year as a college put up a Christmas tree in their forecourt and was later made to take it down as it offended 'minority groups' - mind you, this was in the middle of the veiled students row...

And of course we should have loads of articles starting in the next few days on 'how to get through Christmas in one piece', 'receipes for the morning after', 'what to do if the turkey is raw', 'a thousand things to do with children over Christmas' etc.etc. And not to mention kick-starting the economy during the next fortnight - I see that people are still paying off their credit card purchases from last year...why do people have to eat too much, drink too much and overspend?

As children, we had the most wonderful Christmases - my parents divorced when we were young and both remarried, and they decided that special days should be celebrated together; it was probably difficult for them but we were so excited that any strain the atmosphere went totally unheeded. Canny as children are, we soon realised however that we could play one set of parents off against the other to see who would give us the most extravagent present and we worked this routine a goodly number of years before they cottoned on! "Extravagent" would perhaps be a new bike - nowadays bikes are as 'ordinary' as a new pair of jeans, despite their horrific price - however.

The one aspect of Christmas that was terrible was The Lunch - never again will I eat those hormone induced turkeys and I only ate the Christmas Pudding hoping to find the 6d (remember those?).

It is only in the last few years that my mother and/or my stepmother have relinquished their 'right' to do Christmas and so now the 'kids' are allowed to change the rules. My rules are that no turkey or Christmas Pud are allowed in our kitchen, the drawingroom must NOT ressemble Hamleys, the house MUST be decorated and the Christmas tree has to be covered with all the works - none of these black designer trees for me! And, most importantly, that none of the above causes stress, panic or family arguments. Oh, I forgot - the dog has to either have a bit of tinsel or a ribbon on his collar!

Even when my children were young, we didn't feel obliged to 'do' things with them over the holidays - Christmas in itself was enough. It seems now that the minute the present giving is over, there is a tendency to have to rush out to either change the presents, spend the Christmas money, or rush off to a theme park, paintballing, cinema or whatever, accompanied with wails of "I'm bored".

Last year was our first Christmas in Verbier and my brother and his family came to stay - the children were slightly put out as we postponed presents until the evening as Lucie was working on Christmas day, but with the snow and the sunshine and a super whizzy lethal sledge that I whipped out, this was short lived and off they went to see who could break a limb first. We went for a long walk with the dog, stopped and had a snack for lunch and all met back at the chalet at the end of the afternoon. For our Christmas 'Lunch' we had a couple of poulet de Bresse which were lovely and the only problem was with the parsnips which turned out in fact to be white carrots - the label on the packet was in German, but they sure looked like parsnips to me! A bottle of champagne for the aperitif, a couple of bottles of good wine with the meal (not Swiss, I hasten to add), a silly game and later a flop on the sofa to watch a new DVD, and we all had a happy, stressless, no argument day. Bliss!

This year I have another of my brothers coming with his girlfriend and we shall basically run along the same lines - he doesn't like turkey either!

New Year is however a different kettle of fish - the chalet will be full of friends coming to ski for a week and my ex - now that is stressful! However, the plan is to feed them an enormous breakfast, send them off skiing for the day and I and anyone else who is in non-skiing mode will struggle up and down mountains with Angus.

PS My raclette photos are non-existant - the table was totally trashed before I could get out my camera so the composition was not exactly pleasing to the eye, but it was damn good!

BLOGGING BLUNDERS

2006-12-07T18:03:00.000+01:00

I have spent the day trying to recover my e-mail, which totally disappeared after my book posting last night. After setting up the blog initially, I move on to Beta - after many problems I discovered that it is not compatible with Safari so I downloaded Firefox - it didn't seem to be any better and definitely slower than Safari. It seems to me that after posting a photo yesterday, that is where the machine started to go wrong.

Fortunately my son also has a Mac, and his worked - he had a Wifi connection, I didn't - so using his internet settings I tried to reset mine - no way! In total disgust I shut down the laptop, I even banned it to another room incase I was tempted to throw it in the trash and went and did some mundane jobs. An hour later, feeling calmer, I go back to the laptop, and everything works! Why? I have absolutely no idea (I trashed Firefox) but so far, so good - we shall see if I can post this.

What annoys me is that after a night of snow, the weather here today was simply gorgeous - sun, blue skies and sparkling snow; all very 'carte postale'! And I wasted the whole day trying to get the laptop to respond. I took a couple of photos this morning but don't think I will post one yet - it might be tempting fate!

Tonight we are having 'raclette' - the real McCoy! I will take some photos and post them another day! Raclette was invented in the Valais, so we are spoilt for choice as far as the cheese is concerned. We used to eat raclette in France using our little Tefal raclette machine - we no longer dare bring it out here! The real way to prepare raclette is to melt it in front of the fire but unless one is properly equipped this becomes a hot, greasy and difficult operation. We now have a large raclette machine which is electric and nearly everyone now melts the cheese in this manner - I know of only two restaurants here that still melt the cheese in front of the chimney. The quality of one's raclette depends on the cheese and there are as many different raclettes as days in the year! We have a wonderful fromager here in the village who has some excellent raclette on offer but I must confess to buying tonight's raclette in Carrefour yesterday - they were having a 'degustation' so Lucie and I had a mid-morning snack and decided that it wasn't bad!

The raclette is served with cooked ham, air-dried ham, 'speck' which is in fact streaky bacon (air-dried too), viande de Grisons (dried beef), coppa, lashings of gherkins, pickled onions and the special raclette potates. I can eat 3 to 4 portions when I am really hungry - Pierre ate 11 portions in a restaurant last winter! Fortunately for me, it was a 'much as you can eat' formula!

The minus side of this dish is the smell in the house afterwards - the chalet smells of raclette for 48 hours, despite eating with the windows open! It's a good thing that blogs don't smell!

MY BOOKS

2006-12-06T18:19:00.000+01:00

Firstly, I must apologise for the quality of the photo - taking a photo of a wonderful photo published in a book does in no way do it justice. Which is a great shame as the photos in this book, not that there are many of them, are as important as the text. The book in question is called "Let us now praise famous men", the photos are by Walter Evans and the text is by James Agee.

The two men were sent by Fortune magazine in the summer of 1936 to record the daily lives of white, cotton sharecroppers in the South - the result was this book which in fact is part of a larger work entitled Three Tenant Families. The book was published in 1941 and heralded as an historical record of a America that most Americans knew little about. Due to its publication during the War, it did not sell well, and it wasn't until the early '60s that the book was recognised as a frank eye-witness account of the terrible poverty and desperation in which sharecroppers lived.

These two young men set off on their assignment, it would seem little knowing what was awaiting them. Agee recounts their meeting with sharecroppers who couldn't understand why they should be interviewed or photographed and showed a certain amount of mistrust. But they were soon accepted by the community and moved from their hotel to live with the families whose daily lives they recorded.

Fairly early on in the book, Agee falls in love with Emma and she with him, although both of them know that it is an impossible situation:

"...and all I could do, the very most, for this girl who was so soon going on out of my existence into so hopeless a one of hers, the very most I could do was not to show all I cared for her and for what she was saying, and not to even try to do, or to indicate the good I wished I might do her and was so utterly helpless to do".

But this is an interlude in the book only - however Agee's affection for the families is obviously very genuine and helped towards their being able to live 'en famille' and to record the croppers terrible lives.

The photos are wonderful - however although there is a list of the names of the croppers in the book and their relationship to each other, the photos are nameless. Whilst reading the book, I spent my time going back to the photos, putting a name to a photo, but didn't succeed! I read this book a year ago, and as far as I remember I never discovered which was Emma!

I personally thought it a lovely book, descriptive, poetic, never patronising towards the croppers and their families and at the same time a fascinating insight into the lives of these people as it really was, and not as Hollywood would like us to think it was!

I was prompted to write about this book as the Library of Congress are running an exhibition called Bound for Glory (America in color 1939-1943) - there are some black and white photos in the collection however. You can view some of them online at: http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/boundforglory/

I hope you liked my little review - I never thought writing about a book could be so hard!

PS : Thursday morning - the above link doesn't work - or at least if you click on it the link goes through beta.blogger and therefore the page doesn't open - I don't think I have quite mastered links yet! An easy way out is to google 'bound for glory' to visit the site!

SUPERMARKETS

2006-12-06T06:40:00.000+01:00

Today was meant to be a post on 'books I have enjoyed reading' but starvation and bad weather reports have put that on hold and instead I am off down the mountain to go shopping at Carrefour. I hate supermarket shopping (and most kinds of shopping come to that) and have always been an advocate for on-line purchasing (apart from books!). When I lived in Toulouse I bought my food through an internet site and only shopped for fresh meat and vegetables. Unfortunately it doesn't exist here - the supermarkets will deliver but one still has to go through the hassle of pushing the trolley around, filling it, emptying it on the belt, stacking it into special containers and then giving the delivery man your goods and your address - 9/10ths of the job is done, so one might as well put the stuff in the car and take it home immediately.

So this morning I am off with my daughter to do 'stock-up' shopping - fortunately she loves shopping although my credit card gets pretty hot when I shop with her. And another problem that has reared its head - I now have to put on my glasses to read the labels on the packets - basically I buy the same sort of things, but since living here we have of course had to adapt to Swiss products as there are few French products in the shops at the moment (this is in the course of changing) - and label-reading here takes time! As the country had three official languages everything is written in French, German and Italian with the result that the contents/instructions are so minute that soon I will be off shopping with glasses and a magnifying glass!

The lad finishes school at lunchtime on a Wednesday and has made us promise to do the supermarket shopping before meeting him for lunch. He normally comes home on the train and the 'car postale' but he has to get stuff for his new school which he started this week and, horror of horrors, we have to go to a mobile 'phone shop as his 6 month old mobile 'phone crashed with him on the slopes the other week and the '0' no longer works - difficult when all numbers start with a '0'. Using a mobile 'phone in Switzerland (or Natel as they call them here) is a luxury - the operators charge the most ridiculous prices, so we are off to the 'Sunrise' shop as it would appear to be the cheapest...

And then the struggle back up the hill (8km of hairpin bends - about 15 of them, but I am convinced they keep adding to this number) to unpack the car hopefully before the heavy snowfall - especially as I haven't had my snow tyres put on the car yet.

So for those of you waiting with baited breathe to read about a book, I'm sorry! Today has been turned into a 'Mum's totally boring day when she can't wait to get home, flop down on the sofa with a large drink'posting!

BOOKWORM

2006-12-05T07:50:00.000+01:00

I am a bookworm - I will read anything that comes my way, in French or in English. Classics, novels, biographies, children's books, airport books and even the rubbish my mother reads (which is just a little step up from Barbara Cartland and Mills and Boon - neither of which I have read as far as I know).

And now a grump about where I live - there isn't a bookshop! The local newsagent sells books and when desperate I grudgingly buy a paperback, but it's not the same thing as going into a bookshop and browsing and spending far too much money! When I lived in Toulouse I was in readers paradise - Toulouse has the most bookshops in France per head although that can be a minus at times - which store to choose? One of my favourites was 'Les Ombres Blanches' which also had a splendid children's section. My children are also readers, even my 15 year-old son, but now we live in Switzerland his reading has declined ... I order him books on the internet, but it isn't the same as going into the bookshop, handling a book, reading the blurb, flicking through the pages and getting the general idea of the book, and the smell ... I love the smell of new books!

Of course there are some splendid book shops in Switzerland, and I've already spied a few in Lausanne, but we don't go there that often. So I am now reduced to ordering from the most unfriendly web sites such as Amazon and the Fnac and it has become a soul-less task - almost like ordering groceries on the net. I have a continually running mental list of books I want to read, but ordering for adolescents over the net is no easy task - yes, he should order his own books and not read what his Mum decides, but with a twelve-hour school day and a couple of hours of homework, would you want to order books from one of these sites?

As much as I love books, I was delighted to read a review a few months back on Sony's eBook - now, that is the thing for me! The reviews on the eBook were pretty mixed when talking about the object itself, and so far I don't think that there is an enormous choice of reading material; one of the problems of course being the copyright - so far the books published no longer have copyright, and eventually for the system to take off new laws regarding the downloading of copyrighted books will have to be changed. The advantages for me living in a barren area for books, is that I could just download a book in a flash onto this neat little machine as opposed to re-reading a book, which I can only do after a couple of years! Apart from the choice of books available (rather a large amount of airport reading matter) is its price - $350! But an interesting gadget especially for those of us who tend to nod off reading and awake to find a rather scrunched up book! If you don't know about the eBook, have a look at it on the web at www.sonystyle.com.

I started this posting with the intention of writing a sort of book review - but 'review' is rather pretentious - something more along the lines of 'A book I have read and enjoyed' and I had the firm intention of trying to add a photo which is necessary in the case of the book I'll tell you about later - it is "Let us now praise famous men" by James Agee and with photos by Walker Evans. Perhaps I will manage to write something later today - it all depends on the weather which is definitely looking snowy!

HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS

2006-12-04T08:07:00.000+01:00

I love going home. "Home" being England. Or is it? I have realised that in fact I have spent half of my life away from "Home" - 20 years of living in France and now a year in Switzerland - but every time I return to England there is still that tug on the heart strings and the comfort of going back to where I grew up.

Times have changed of course, and when I go home I am a visitor - no longer my own bedroom with all the junk accumulated over the years - now I am in the guest room, which as children we thought very grand! But despite that, it is comforting to go back and be surrounded by things that have always been there - the furniture, the objects, the cold,crisp sheets on the bed, the jar of sea shells on the kitchen window that we collected over thirty years ago - without realising it, I check to make sure that everything is still there.

I have never been part of an expat community and often go out of my way to avoid those who grouse about not finding baked beans, salad cream, marmite or whatever in their new foreign life (although now you find English things everywhere in Europe). What suddenly makes me wish for England is when I see a programme on TV - the other day I was idly watching Ispecteur Barnaby (I think it was called Midsomer Murders in England), and although the contents were of little interest, I suddenly found myself looking at the gorgeous English countryside and the trim lawns, and the rose beds and the lovely houses.

Rose-tinted spectacles - most definitely! And of course when I do go home (as a visitor) we 'do' basic things that I miss, living abroad ... real pubs that serve real pub food, visiting a National Trust property, Wisley Gardens, catching up with friends - but of course this is not the everyday life of English people all the year round. And when I do take off my glasses, England has changed over the last few years and I'm not too sure it is for the better.

My home town has changed out of all recognition and if it wasn't for the fact that the High Street is still cobbled (but pedestrian now) it could be anywhere - all the old shops have long gone to be replaced by those one finds in any High Street in England, the market that used to sell potatoes, cabbages and brussel sprouts in winter has stocks of avocados and lychees, the car congestion is beyond belief and now there is the shopping mall - what terrible places, open seven days a week and filled with zombie-like people who, it would seem, MUST spend money. What on earth do they buy?

Would I go back? Who knows ... perhaps once the 'changeling' has finished his education and is pushed into the outside world ... but I shall have to take off my rose-tinted specs. first.

HI-TECH

2006-12-03T17:25:00.000+01:00

Feeling rather pleased with myself as my first words appear on the internet, I shall courageously press on - this time to talk about my struggle with the hi-tech world in which we live.

Being in the fiftysomething age group, my life has been turned upside-down in the last 10/15 years, thanks to the technological advances that seem to appear every day. As a child I used to laugh at my grandmother who, when the 'phone rang, would check her hair in the mirror before replying to the call (maybe she was anticipating the videophone), now I wonder what my children laugh at when they see their Mum struggling with stuff that they consider part of ordinary everyday life.

About eight years ago I bought my first mobile 'phone which was basically a waste of time as we couldn't get a signal where we lived; however time went on and the signal got better - after two years the screen died and as my children used to say I was 'telephoning from my telephone box' I took it back to France Telecom to change it - well, of course the lad who served me also said it should be in a museum, and out I come with a new telephone.

A few years later and a few 'phones later, I now have a mobile that seems to do absolutely everything apart from telephone - I'm not a mobile freak and use it only in desperation, but it would appear that a mobile 'phone that is just a 'phone, is now becoming a thing of the past. I do not want a 'phone that takes photos, films my friends, connects me to my email, wakes me up in the morning, plays music and all the other zillion of things that most of them seem to do. I have a camera, a computer, an alarm clock and a CD player in my home - I don't need to have all this stuff on my mobile, and invariably of an inferior quality. The children zip off SMS faster than I can type (and I use all fingers) - I take five minutes to send an SMS of four words.

We have a flat-screen TV that is 'HD Ready' with its zapper, we have a box for the satellite dish with its zapper, we have a machine to watch DVDs with its zapper - to set up the TV to screen a DVD makes me wish our cinema here was open all the year!

Thus saying, I have totally complicated my life by switching from a PC to Mac five years ago! And just to add to the pain, I have bought the new MacBook Pro for myself for Christmas. Us Mac users are apparently 2% of the computer owners of the world - once bitten, there is no return to Microsoft! But for the silly people in the world such as me who only use a fraction of their computer, these machines are the Rolls Royce of the computer world. The only problem is that many downloads aren't Mac friendly which means that one is left puzzling for a goodly number of hours and often giving up in sheer desperation - thus saying I probably have more understanding on how my Mac works than my children, who just press buttons with alacrity and lose patience immediately the computer doesn't work as they want. (I had to change from Safari to Firefox to set up this blog, for example...!).

I have never played a game on the Playstation, or the PSP, and can hardly see the iShuffle, let alone press the button to play music.

But a big thanks to my children who make me keep up with the latest developments even though at times I do ask them to set up the TV so I can watch a DVD!

LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW, LET IT SNOW

2006-12-03T08:25:00.000+01:00

Before creating my blog, I would often think of all the things I would write about if I had one; now the basic process is completed, my mind has become a total blank. So when in doubt, talk about the weather. And living in a ski resort, weather is of the utmost importance, especially at this time of the year.

THERE IS NO SNOW! Three weeks to Christmas and apart from a sprinkling on the high slopes, the weather remains obstinently sunny and warm. The first 'piste' opened up a fortnight ago, relying heavily on snow cannons, but that is all. The shops are reopening for the season after their autumn hibernation, but apart from the locals who come to ski on the weekend, the village remains desperately empty.

The chalets and flats that are empty for most of the year, are starting to be opened up by an army of cleaning ladies and maintenance people, and there are signs of the first very expensive and utterly non-PC four wheel drive cars invading the village; here of course a 'Chelsea tractor' is almost obligatory (when we have snow) but when I see an enormous Hummer with Geneva licence plates on it, I wonder whether the owner can actually use it in the city - let alone park it.

One of the joys of winter here is that the building work stops - through the spring and autumn the village bristles with cranes and enormous lorries carrying equipment as the locals sell off their land to people who pay millions of Swiss francs to build a chalet that will only be used a couple of weeks in the year.

An architect friend told me the other week that as constructible land has now more or less run out, there are certain unscrupulous architects that I suppose, with a few back-handers, are now getting permission to build on land that is in an avalanche zone. Apparently these chalets are super-reinforced but nothing stops an avalanche. The climate is changing for whatever reason, and this summer we saw avalanches in the mountains and one down in the valley where enormous boulders suddenly hurtled down the mountain for no apparent reason - the one in the valley put the local railway line out of action for three months.

I live in what is called a 'vieux' chalet - the locals say 'vieux' with a slight snarl in their voice - they are for some reason very proud of the expensive chalets with their hammans, jacuzzis and heated driveways (yes, yes!) but then complain bitterly that the local young people can no longer live here as the housing is too expensive. I just hope that my 'vieux' chalet was built by a local with knowledge of the village and if there is an avalanche it won't be swept away!

LES DEBUTS

2006-12-01T07:43:00.000+01:00

It all seems so easy when one replies to a posting on a blog; setting up one's own is a very different kettle of fish! I am already losing patience as bits appear and disappear, so like so many, this blog will hopefully get into shape over the next few days.