A catch-up

Isn't this rotten - I don't come and visit you (I've popped in here and there though) and then do a post after three months. I'm doing it as much for me as to reach out to you lot - in the years to come I will look back at my blog and remember how my life panned out, this is a dear diary really...


It is now four months since Mr FF chose to leave He is living with someone else now and is very happy and settled. I've been on a couple of 'dates' and my profile on these dating sites seems to get me a lot of attention, but I am quite a fussy person. I'm not even sure what exactly I am looking for - but I guess I will know it when I meet him.

Work at the nursing home is going well but it does make me very tired. I do long days now, working from 7 - 7 with two 15 minute breaks and 30 mins for lunch. I do a few of these a week and sadly have to leave the bichons alone for some 13 hours. This is easy to type but it has been very hard to come to terms with. I looked into various options (neighbours, paying people to pop in, rehoming) but, at the proverbial end of the day, they have each other, pads are down on the floor for wees (although they have been very good at holding on to it so far), they get a longish walk at 5am (yes, I get up at 4.30 on my long days) and again at 7.30. Plus, on my days off, they have my more or less undivided attention. If I go out I bundle them into their look out seats in the car and they either come with me where I go or stay in the carpark somewhere, barking happily at passers-by.

Work is also sponsoring me in an NVQ in Health and Social Care. Every two weeks I go to a college where I am instructed in stuff and have essays to submit. Many of my fellow students seem thick as anything to me and seem to have trouble grasping the simplest of concepts. I know a lot of academics sneer at these NVQs (non vocational qualifications) and they seem very easy compared to the OU courses I did. When I asked my tutor if she preferred the Harvard referencing system in my essay she had no idea what I was talking about - still, I sound a bit contemptuous here and I really do not mean to be. My plan is to get this bit of paper (sometime in September), by which time I will have been working in care for about a year. I then think I will try and get a job as a deputy manager somewhere (usually you need a nursing qualification but I have seen a lot of adverts where this has been waived, as long as the manager is an RGN), I really need a 'better' sort of job.

I never thought I would end up a poorish person. I had a very comfortable, middle-class upbringing and wanted for nothing really. All my money went in France and also on nice living and improvements over there. My parents tried to drum into me the value of money and it is only now that their words ring in my head. Still, I got there in the end; I am very proud of my new budgeting skills.

My weight loss has more or less stabilised at four stone. This is mainly due to the fact that a couple of months ago I joined a gym and even though my shape is changing for the better and I am losing body fat, because of the increased muscle tone (there must be some muscles somewhere, surely) the actual loss on the scales does not reflect how I am looking. I have been busy selling off my former 'fat clothes' on e-bay; these nice clothes sell for a fraction of what I paid for them but it is still cash coming in and it saves them just hanging around here. I did a flying visit to the French house a little while ago to bring back some things to sell - I've flogged some jewellery that belonged to my mother, some presents I was given, a few other bits and pieces. Things I thought would be mine to pass on to someone have now ended up being sold - but we do what we can to get by and it was indeed necessary.

Oh my blogging friends, I have missed you but really did not feel in the mood for talking about my life. It must be a good sign I guess that I am now able to.

My new job

I think I rather muddled things with the details in my previous post of the cleaning job for which I inadvertently applied. Yesterday saw me going off to another care home in a beautiful Kent village about 20 minutes drive away (a much better journey than that to Tunbridge Wells) and this time the job was indeed for a care assistant. I'd not seen an advert - this was another 'posh' place to which I had sent my details and it did turn out to be a glorious Georgian house with modern annexe. Cedar trees and weeping willows are the view out of the window as you enter the main living room that backs on to Reception and there is a conservatory, gazebo and little follies around the grounds - near the allotments where the residents grow the vegetables that the chef then uses for lunch. Shrubberies and herbaceous borders abound and they look beautifully cared for.

I had a cracking interview - after being in charge of recruitment for a firm of London accountants for about 15 years I'm quite interview savvy and the manager whom I met had the same style I used to adopt - like a chat amongst friends to encourage the candidate to relax. Halfway through she said that even though I had no proper experience she would be mad to let me escape and after that I was introduced to some of the residents, all of whom gave me a hug.

Reference requests and the Criminal Records check have been sent off this morning and it looks like I will be starting in a couple of weeks. The money is rubbish but this was never about money - Mr FF does quite well in terms of our needs. It was about finding something that would be of interest and that would also not just see me sitting in front of a screen helping my bum to get larger.

There is an 'end of life' centre at this home that takes people in when the local hospice is full. I thought I would find the idea of this too sad to cope with but strangely enough I feel very enthusiastic about it. I will also be doing shift work - the shifts are 7am - 1pm/ 1pm - 7pm/ 7am - 7pm/ 7pm through the night to 7am, and they are in blocks of 36 hours a week. On the week you get three long shifts you get four days off. These hours suit my doggy day care duties very well, except of course for the 7am - 7pm and on those ones Mr FF can elect to work from home.

The only drawback is that I have to travel on the M20 and nobody wants to let a 'Frenchie' into the lane. Grrr - these xenephobic Brits, eh?

Kentish catch up

Because of not having a landline (we've only signed a six month contract at this house in case we are not that happy) we are on some mobile roving set up for internet access and I am on a limited amount each month. I only realised this when a screen came up the other day telling me I was out of internet credit. Mr FF had tried to explain this to me on the first day here but there was so much going on I did not quite take it in. I'm limiting myself to just now and then in the old blogosphere, so that is one reason I am not very good at keeping up to date with your entries. Another reason is that I am just enjoying being back in the UK and am out a fair bit.

Immediate impressions of being back:

I am no longer the plumpest person in town - there are some hefty people around and I'm very happy about this.

Everyone seems to have tatoos (I hate them), especially round where we are living

Some of the local kids seem quite brattish which was never the case where we lived in Brittany. I have already caught our phantom doorbell ringer (done to make the dogs bark which indeed they have been doing). I shouted at him and his two mates and then took their photos - now they scuttle past and avoid eye contact when I pass them on dog walks.

Traffic is horrendous and everyone seems to delight in cutting up someone they think is a French person (my car has French plates)

My love affair with Tescos is developing into a true passion. I'd never eaten pak choi until this week - not to mention all the millions of items you just do not see in a French supermarket. I'd also forgotten how English supermarkets encourage their staff to be friendly and helpful - again, a no-no in France.

Bold 2 in 1 washing capsules are rubbish and smear soap all over clothes.

Things on the horizon:

Further bonding with our lovely neighbours who say they do not mind the dogs barking as much as they do. Even though we are in a cul-de-sac we are on a pivotal corner with lots of foot traffic to the local shops. Two floor to ceiling windows mean the dogs have too perfect a view of people to bark at and sitting with the curtains drawn is a bit depressing.

I have an interview on Wednesday morning in Tunbridge Wells and will not say more until I know whether or not I have the job.

Getting UK plates for our cars - not because of the road antics by other drivers. I think we are going to be here for the long haul and it is law to have the plates of the country.


Back later in the week with hopefully positive news to report about a job.

Look out Kent, here we come

Yes, the Fancy household will soon be decamping to the county known as the 'Garden of England'. Lately I have been in the UK tracking down a rental house whose owner would take the two little bichons. It's not been easy - I suppose a lot of home owners think of dogs as huge, hairy wet, flea-ridden things. However, Misty and Poppy are the canine equivalent of glossy and sparkly bright young things, always fresh from the latest grooming session (and their hair doesn't shed or moult). We've now found somewhere though and are just waiting for our moving date.

You knew I must have had a good reason for deserting the blogosphere.

So, within the next few weeks we will be back in the UK (hooray) and keeping the French house for holidays and rest/recuperation. I'm going to be looking around for a job as well (oh how I have missed working - you think it's going to be wonderful giving up work, but it can make for very long days).

This is a post on the fly but in the next few days I will be round to see you all

Back in August

Sorry everyone - I keep meaning to catch up on my sidebar and the posts I haven't commented on are growing by the half day.I am really an outdoorsy person at the moment - despite having fallen in the mud this morning and if there had been someone around to film it then I probably would have ended up on 'You've been framed' (I hate that show).

I'm giving myself a few weeks out of the blogosphere to regain my bloggy mojo and to finally finish sorting out the neglected part of our garden.

Bisous à tous

A few random bits

At last I have read through the very detailed comments from my OU tutor relating to how I could have improved those poems - and thank you to everyone who also gave me feedback. She and I have also swapped emails about them and I feel newly determined and creative once again and ready to tackle the three remaining marked assignments - the last one of which will make up 50% of my final mark (more about that when the time comes).

The weather is now mild enough here for me to go out without a coat or jacket although I do now have one dilemma. Where to put my car keys and phone when out walking the dogs. I tend to stick them down my bra - a habit for years and years - but I do then tend to split the lace very often and have to fork out for new ones. I don't like those belts you can hoist around your waist - I need to minimise my bulk, not add to it. Any solutions gratefully received - and bags will not be considered. I love my bags but not when out doing my speed walk (who am I kidding - the dogs sniff every leaf and I have a start-stop shuffle that I have perfected). Why car keys? - because I drive to one of the many canal paths or water gardens near here. If I just walked the streets near out house every evening then this daily duty would not be as enjoyable as it is.

Mr FF will be returning home very soon. He has got a better offer from another company and will be able to work from our office here. I'm not going to dwell on this because we have talked about it and this blog is going to be about me and not his life with me. I'm sure I've got enough to say without having to resort to what he is up to.

One thing I have missed having out here is a good friend, a close friend to whom I can tell anything. Well, I think I have found her through the Weight Watchers class that I joined. I didn't realise how much I had missed having this bond with someone and she has said the same. Anyone overhearing us would think we have known each other for years, we jabber away so and feel totally relaxed together - but then out here most of the people listening wouldn't understand a word (seeing as how they would be French). I'm really enjoying the camaraderie of this slimming class; there are about 100 women and two men there and it has been a great way to learn new slang and chat casually to the French. Five weeks in and I have lost just over 9 lbs. I knew it would not be quick (I'm on medication that slows down the weight loss process) and I'm happy for little losses.

I feel positive and determined and totally out of my usual spring mindset, which is where I wish I was strolling along the South Bank in London, having lunch at the NFT cafe and browsing the bookstalls. Things sometimes seem better when you think about them than when you actually do them. I'm sure if I were there the crowds would irritate me, the rubbish air would make me moan and I'd be yearning to return to this beautiful countryside.

Bichon Jekyll and Hyde

Looking at this sweet sleeping Poppy bichon you wouldn't imagine that sometimes she can turn into a real Mr Hyde. This dog is the rescue dog that I have blogged about quite a lot in the past. She was badly treated for the first two years of her life and has a lot of 'isms'. One of them is that she gets very upset and hysterical when people leave. She loves them arriving and doesn't want them to go away. Consequently each time a visitor gets up to leave there are ructions and growls and she has to be restrained.

My m-i-l is not very confident with dogs and the Poppy situation sometimes worries her. I think Pop can sense this and is sometimes extra cross that m-i-l is going. Pop thinks 'I know, if I tear at her clothes a bit she will have to stay' - yes, bloggers, we recently had an 'incident'.

Tomorrow Pop and Misty will both be spending the afternoon at m-i-l's as an experiment. She will come and go quite often and see if Poppy is a bit calmer. If it all works out okay then she will agree to look after them for a long weekend next month so that I can go to Paris and stay with Mr FF (who was home last weekend and it was good to be together again)


Here is another sleepy photo - and yes, they are spoilt for choice with their daytime beds

Halloween - humbug

What a daft thing this Halloween trick and treat is. Getting children to go round to houses and cajole strangers into giving them sweets, when all year round they are told not to accept them from people they don't know.

How to avoid answering the doorbell is to get yourself a brace of bichons who launch themselves at the door and then sound like the Very Large Dogs that they think they are. Children just run away.

I'm not such a killjoy though. Look here and you will see a beautiful Jackie Lawson card

Odds and ends

These photos have nothing to do with my post but I just wanted to show you how an unwanted bathroom can be successfully transformed into a little library. We used to have our bookshelves up in the bedrooms because the downstairs rooms were not big enough to take them all; once we decided however that a quiet book room was more important than both being able to have a bath or shower in separate places, it was but a short step. Yes, I couldn't think of what photo to use today - you are quite right. Anyway...

I'm feeling a little better after just two sessions of physiotherapy. The first involved a back massage with lavender oil followed by a very hot pomade placed on the sorest parts of my back. It was so very hot that I thought I would not be able to bear it for long, but it grew to be comforting and I could almost feel it going through to inside my body and healing me (I know - uber-imaginative here). I could hardly wait for my next session, hoping it would be more of the same; however it turned out to be electrodes placed all around the back of my hips. They pulsed away for about 25 minutes and it felt like nothing was really going on. The next day though was the first day in about two months that I got out of bed without clutching my back and giving an old lady groan. So -with 18 more sessions to go - things are looking much more optimistic for me. I wonder what tomorrow's visit will produce.

My OU course in Creative Writing has begun and every day I am meant to do what are called Freewrites. Just as a pianist will warm up with scales, so a potential writer (although all us bloggers are writers per se but you know what I mean)will find it beneficial to sit down for ten minutes and write anything that comes into their head. Just scribble away on a sheet of paper and wait for the words to come tumbling out. It is quite astonishing what comes to mind and things buried away that have not been thought about or seemingly remembered for years suddenly emerge. It's early days for the course but my group seem like a good bunch (other expats in Europe), we have a good tutor who has written for the BBC and I'm in the zone, shall we say.

Our flea problem is in the past which doesn't mean that there are none about outside. It's very humid here at the moment and fleas are everywhere. The bichons are now on a flea prevention programme called Stronghold (remember in my earlier post where I moaned about Frontline not working any more). Judging from the number of people who have found my blog through putting something like Frontline doesn't work any more into Google, there must be lots of dog owners who have discovered the same thing - that since Frontline was relicensed to enable pet shops to sell it (it was previously only available through the vets), it has been made weaker. I found this out through extensive online searching of lab tests - and I spent a couple of hours reading the lab results for Stronghold. Those poor dogs used for testing are given 50 female and 50 male fleas who have not eaten in 24 hrs - imagine how many bites these poor lab dogs get. As someone normally opposed to animal testing, I feel very grateful that these poor beagles have suffered so that my two little bichons can be safe with the product. For anyone about to flame me re my views on testing - remember that thalidomide tested with perfect results on monkeys.

Chunky calves and weeny feet

It's that time of year again - when a new pair of Rocket Dog boots gets bought - and how much easier it is for me now that Amazon UK have decided they can ship boots and shoes out of the UK.

This pair is from the Jailer range and is called June Bug. Normally my calves slop about comfortably in my RDs, if anything the boots are slightly too roomy. With this particular design I had already read that the leg part had been cut narrower than usual - hence me going up from my usual size 3 (36) to a mammoth 4 (37). But what a tug I had this morning - trying to get them up my legs. I eventually got them on and realised that the width must be about 3cm narrower than the usual pattern. I don't know why there are Velcro straps around them because that gives the impression that there is a hidden gusset (what is it about that word that makes one want to snigger?) - but there isn't. I suppose though you have to have a slight bondage look to justify the word 'Jailer'. Another minor gripe is that they have left frayed edges on the boot - I cut all that off; no doubt more will form in time but that will be a good thing to fidget with when I'm feeling edgy.

The bichons weren't at all interested in my new boots. They'd already been up for two hours and it was time for another sleep

Poppy had a cortisone injection two days ago to try and help her with her many many allergies. It has been three years since her last jab and of course in between then and now she has had the desensitisation vaccine sent from the Paris laboratory to our vets, in order that she can try and build up immunity to the things that send her crazy and make her want to bite herself. A lot of it is a coping mechanism she employed when living in her first home (one of 16 dogs shut up in a small room with very little food and never seeing daylight).

I suppose there is a bit of an improvement from how she used to be, but I long for the day when she will be able to live without her bucket.I can't see it happening though; just as there are three legged dogs one sees from time to time who seem to manage quite well, so Poppy is with her bucket - she is very used to it and even gets a twice-daily massage from me. That must be worth having to put up with all that plastic - surely?

If your dog is on Frontline plus...

It's been bad times in our household lately. We have had - still got in fact - a flea epidemic. As you all know we've got two bichons and every month without fail I dab some Frontline plus on the back of their necks. They also go to the groomer every five weeks to keep them white and beautiful and those two measures alone should have been enough to keep them flea-free.

However there has been something of a flea epidemic in Brittany lately, especially down the canal paths and unfortunately that has been where we've taken them for all their evening walks for the last few months. But the main factor in this situation has got to be the fact that after a while Frontline no longer works on a pet; the fleas build up immunity to the chemicals and attack the dog and its surrounding regardless. You just google 'Frontline no longer works on my dog' and see the number of people saying this.

We had such a shock last week when we saw a number of fleas on the dogs. We went into blitzing mode - we set off anti-flea foggers in the rooms, dismantled beds and sofas and sprayed them all thoroughly, the bedding went to the launderette for a very high temperature wash; there was nowhere that we missed. For a couple of days the dogs looked clear and then there were a couple more fleas on them. Even Mr FF and I got bitten - I had one in my bra and received about ten bites!.

What to do now? Well we are no longer taking the dogs to the canal - their evening walk will be a boring trudge round the streets; we're using a herbal powder containing Neem (used as a bio-pesticide in the third world); today we are going to blitz the house again with chemicals and after that we'll just have to see what happens.

We've also bought a new vacuum cleaner that uses a traditional bag. It turns out that if you use one of the bagless Dyson type machines then the fleas can be stunned when they are picked up and go into a dormant state for a little while, only to march out again when the Dyson is brought out anew. With the new bag vacuum it is also necessary to put a cut- up flea collar in the bag to kill everything off. These fleas wage a real good survival war and you have to be super-vigilant to beat them.

So, if your dog is on Frontline, it would probably be a good idea to check its coat for those telltale black specks along the skin. Chances are that they might just have one or two fleas, which in turn can lay hundreds of eggs able to stay dormant for up to a year.

• What is the difference between a flea and a wolf?
  One prowls on the hairy and the other howls on the prairie!

• What to you call a Russian flea?
  A Moscow-ito!

• What do you get if you cross a rabbit and a flea?
  Bugs Bunny!

• How do you start an insect race?
  One, two, flea - go!

• What do you call a cheerful flea?
  A hop-timist!

Ba-boom! Okay, I'll get my canister of chemicals and just leave the post alone

A few things that are not connected at all

I've now got stuck into my first fiction book for months - it is A.S. Byatt's The Children's Book and, despite guessing - correctly I think - who is going to be pairing up with whom over its 630 pages of a family saga, it is a good read (despite an over-abundance of metaphors). One Guardian review said it had been over-researched, that Byatt had put too much of a factual nature into it (it covers Edwardian/Great War times), but that sort of book suits me fine. It would be too much of a jump to go straight from OU course books to trivial fiction. I enjoyed an earlier novel of hers - the Booker winner Possession and I hope this is going to be as good.

We recently wanted to give someone a present and this particular person has everything she could possibly want. We decided in the end to get her some memory lane sweets - to remind her of her childhood. We settled on cinder toffee, space dust, flying saucers and sticky fudgy stuff called Chelsea Woppers. Saturday evening saw us all trying out the contents which were tremendous - if you are stuck on what to buy someone, for a silly present you could do a lot worse than go to here and order a retro box of sweets. Better still - make sure you are around when it is opened and look very interestedly at the contents.

You all know that I am a Byron nut and I recently found out that sometime at the end of July Rupert Everett is going to be presenting a two-part documentary for Channel 4 on Byron. I hope it is going to be good. I've never seen the BBC two part drama on His Lordship - the one with Jonny Lee Miller that was meant to be good. What a shame us expats can't access these 'watch it again' sites online.

A little while ago I blogged about the fact that I would be having an OU gap year. However, due to the generosity of Mr FF, this now looks increasingly unlikely. Despite the vast cost of the OU courses for people outside the UK it looks quite probable that I will be continuing my studies come September. I have my eye on this new course and it will be a pleasure to read Grimm's fairy tales as part of my studies. It will be my first Level 3 course (the hardest level) and I feel quite excited about it all.

The dog photo at the top is of Misty, one of our two bichons, after she fell into the canal where she goes for her daily walk. Mr FF was away (he would have had to be - he is much more careful than to let this happen) and Mr FF's ma and I were the dog walkers, talking away and not paying careful attention. We suddenly noticed that we were one dog short and after a little search saw a little white head happily swimming along beside us. The thing is that now she is always trying to get back into the water and it really is not a good look for white lapdogs. As a compromise I'm looking into buying a kiddie paddling pool for the back garden - she can swim round and round and I'll soak my hot little feet.

And so the week drifted away

This holidaying at home that we've been doing has been very very pleasant. It's not just been sitting under the gazebo eating barbecued food and drinking cider.  Mr FF has transformed the second bedroom (he did the first and the third rooms last summer) from the original pink and green wallpaper that we inherited, into a room of off-white and lavender; he has also removed the green pastel wallpaper from the bathroom and painted its walls a quite startling shade of green ( a bit of disparity between the colour on the lid and the actuality of the paint). This happens a lot in France (not painting bathroom walls green but the shade difference) - you can't get little sample pots here either to try out in advance. Okay, the French might be right up there where cuisine, haute couture, perfume and wine are concerned but, when it comes to paint, Britain rules. The English might be obese from junk food, badly-dressed and drink plonk but our paint rocks.

We've also got into the daily habit of walking the dogs off the lead along the canal. Now you might think this is no big deal but a few years ago it would have been inconceivable. Misty (who we've had since she was eight weeks old) was always too excitable and nervy  and Poppy (the rescue with all the allergies and self-mutilating tendencies) was just too unpredictable. They have both matured but we do constantly have to keep turning round to make sure nobody is about to overtake us and also pay attention  to see that nobody is approaching. We've only been caught by surprise once, when a cyclist came out of a side path and completely foxed all four of us - the dogs were too surprised to react and we got away without an incident. It might sound odd to walk along a canal path with so few people, but that is the thing about Brittany - there is so much unspoilt beauty that you can walk for miles without seeing a soul.

There is no doubt that a holiday at home can pay dividends. We don't have that urge to constantly be out and about which we would have had in Venice (the original holiday plan that we cancelled due to lack of funds); we can go back to bed after breakfast and just snooze; we don't have to be Doing Something All The Time. Of course I'm sorry I won't be seeing Madame Butterfly tonight, but I did once see it at Covent Garden with Mirella Freni as MB. The thing is that I don't remember much about it as I was very young- my parents thought they would introduce me to fine culture at a young age. It worked though, it instilled a love of opera that I still have to this day. So  tonight, when I'm under the gazebo with my barbie supper, I will raise a glass of cidre doux to Puccini and his wonderful music.

Just one last thing - there is a lovely new animated card from Jacquie Lawson here

Three-part post

PART ONE
We went to a boat flea market (nautical puce in French) today so that Mr FF could buy some rowlocks (which he tells me are pronounced to rhyme with the slang word for testicles, but being a land lubber this is news to me). There were none to be found but it was still very nice to wander around the marina and look at all the boats we couldn't afford even if they had been for sale.

I'd set my heart on having moules frites (mussels and chips) for lunch, to try and break myself in gently and eat them at a restaurant before trying my hand at Dumdad's recent recipe, but unfortunately they did not seem to be on the menu anywhere around boat land. There were lots of places with huitres (oysters) but, just as I have never tried mussels, I have also never tried oysters. It's the look of those slimy little creatures that puts me off.

We came across two little shops each with a trompe l'oeil (literally trick of the eye) painting on them.

In this one below you would never know that the man was actually a painted figure.

PART TWO
Even though there are various places in the house I could park myself when I study or mess about on here - including a basement office with my work pc - I always end up in here, the dining room. It looks out to our lovely view and, having never really liked a traditional room with lots of brown wood, this is in fact what the dining room contains and I love it. In the corner is my dear old dad's art deco bureau and cabinet and it's not easy to see but there are stained glass tulips in the panels above - yes, your eyes probably didn't stir higher than the bottles of drink. Despite the array they are hardly ever opened - My tipple of choice is the local cheap champagne (I have a wine allergy) and Mr FF prefers a good bordeaux.

I couldn't have a miscellaneous post without a shot of the bichons and this is one in which they look like two-headed dog, albeit Poppy with her bucket on could never really pass as half of a pushmepullyou.


PART THREE
Finally, two lovely bloggers recently gave me an award - the first is from the afore-mentioned Dumdad

and the second is from marc in Canada



I can't recall if there if there is something you have to do to get these awards but, in any case, I don't tag people anymore so, if you would like to take either image then I am sure you deserve it.

Bits and pieces for Friday

I'm using a picture that I used last year but I like it so much that I'm making no apologies for using it again. If you want to see more of the same sort of thing, you can find them in my Funny file. Creative ideas like this are too good to be used just once.

It's been a bits and pieces sort of week and the reason I've not blogged is due to a OU text that I've been trying to get my head around. If you look at this extract you might get a better idea of the problems I've had:

Look at a man, or any other animal of prodigious strength, and what is your idea before reflection? Is it that this strength will be subservient to you, to your ease, to your pleasure, to your interest in any sense? No; the emotion you feel is, lest this enormous strength should be employed to the purposes of rapine and destruction. That power derives all its sublimity from the terror with which it is generally accompanied, will appear evidently from its effect in the very few cases, in which it may be possible to strip a considerable degree of strength of its ability to hurt.

On and on Edmund Burke drones (can you drone if it is written?) :why say one word when you can say 20. I only have so much brain and it's been almost fully occupied with this.

One thing I did do was download lots of old songs and album tracks that I used to like and I am now sitting wallowing in nostalgia. It's a mix of Al Stewart (yes, the Year of the Cat man but so much more to him than that track; in fact we often coincide our trips to the UK with one of his concert dates), there are a few Gerry Rafferty tracks (yes, the Baker Street man - did you know he has gone missing?), a couple of Oasis (Wonderwall and Don't Look Back in Anger), the Proclaimers (remember that Scottish du0, one of them had thick horn rimmed glasses - 500 Miles and Letter from America), T'Pau (China in your Hand and Heart and Soul), Kate Bush (the Man with the Child in his Eyes) and lastly (I should have done this as a list really) Simple Minds classic song Belfast Child.

One drawback I had whilst doing this was that due to having a French address the UK sites won't let you download from them - never mind that my Visa card is UK registered; apparently there are all sorts of international restrictions on this. I had to turn to a French site and do you know what - they didn't have any Fine Young Cannibals tracks listed at all. It was like they had never existed (didn't Roland Gift have an amazing voice), so I might be forced to try 'other methods' to get their tracks I wanted.

Another thing I did was try and kick my biscuit addiction. I have quite an addictive personality and for a long while I was quite addicted to Rowntrees Fruit Gums - yes, even the yellow and green ones.

I would buy a packet every morning from the kiosk at Oxford Circus station and by about an hour later there would be none left. One morning the kiosk owner had run out and I got some Fruit Pastilles instead but it just wasn't the same and I felt a bit cheated. By about 10.30 I'd had to nip out of the office and go to a sweetshop to get my Fruit Gum fix and that's when I woke up to the fact I had a problem. I mean it's not exactly 'waiting for the man' but I didn't want to have something for which I had developed such a need. It took me a month to get rid of the craving but I did it and I haven't had one since then (cue for the group hug at an addicts meeting).

Anyway, the current 'habit' is a biscuit. The thing is that it isn't just the one - whilst I'm studying I get through lots of cups of tea and of course there has to be a biscuit with tea. I have two while the kettle is boiling, then two to dunk and then the Final Two. Of course this had to stop - and it has now been three days without one. It's not as if I can eliminate them from our house; because of Poppy the bichon's allergies she cannot have dog biscuits as there are things in them to which she has a bad response. I get plain boring 'human' biscuits for the dogs and put them in their own canister and I'm trying to make myself imagine that petit beurre are in fact the most disgusting thing in the world and that I mustn't nick them.

Winter Walks and a thank you for my award

I hope the pictures capture how cold it was out by the canal this afternoon. In the distance we could hear the hunting horn (boo) and the barking of the dogs that accompany them, which made the bichons quiver with excitement. We threw stones and sticks on to the frozen water and watched them slide across. Once you force yourself to go out in winter sunshine it really is suprisingly nice and that is what you have to do when you have dogs - force yourself outside.

It's lucky we live in a little cul-de-sac (funnily enough not a phrase known in France; they say 'impasse') and that we are not on a busy road, because I am always to be found very early in the morning outside on the gravel of the front garden urging the dogs to go 'on the paper'. Why the trigger words are 'on the paper' is because Misty, the first bichon we got, was house trained using a puppy pad ( disposable absorbent pad) which got moved nearer and nearer the front door. I used to hate it when the doorbell rang and whoever stood there would have the full view of the (and it was always when she'd just that second used it) yucky old pad.

The neighbours really must think we are mad - all the local dogs are sent out on their own and take themselves for walks. Our little princesses are supervised by a bag lady in a dressing gown and slipper boots with the shower caps on them, curly hair sticking up all around her head and a very natural looking face (although I never wear much make up unless we are going somewhere special). I stand there in the freezing cold, repeating like a mantra 'on the paper, on the paper' ruing the day that I ever chose to be a dog owner and wishing the bichons would hurry up and go and not be so entranced by everything. Every dog owner reading this knows exactly what I mean.

Anyway...

The lovely cheshire wife has given me a present of an award - The Van Gogh's Ear Award.I think it's because I'm a little bit crazy and might decide to chop something off in an artistic strop. Awards are lovely and I haven't forgotten that I said I'd try and design one - it's much harder than it sounds.

merci beaucoup

Even though I've been blogging for quite a few years now it is only in the last two months or so that I feel I have made some good friends in blogland. I like to read about their lives and -it seems - they like to read my ramblings. I've got to admit that I'm enjoying blogging more and more and to be awarded a cute little thing to stick on my sidebar is the icing on the cake. It's been given to me by Kathy here and her blog is so novel, with images and words that really do make me laugh. We hit it off straight away and I wish that she lived nearer so that I could stalk her. If you take a look I'm sure you will agree that she does in truth have a Fabulous Blog.

However, for me to put this award on my sidebar and play by the system of blogland etiquette, I have to obey some rules which are as follows:

Copy and paste the rules and instructions in your post.

When you post about receiving this award, make sure you include who gave you the award and link it back to them.

Post five winners and link it back to them as well.

Post five of your addictions.

Add the award image.

Let your winners know you gave them an award by leaving them a comment on their blog.

So, here we go with my five addictions.

I think it's fair to say that blogging has become one of my addictions. It never used to be so - I've had my blog for nearly four years and in most of that time I was very ambivalent about it. It is only since I updated my template from one of the old ones to a more modern one (about two months ago) that my view about blogging changed. I suppose it is the same as neglecting your appearance for a long time because you can't be bothered and then all of a sudden you wake up, decide you look a mess and resolve to change. Well, that was how I suddenly felt about my blog and now I love being in Blogland.

If owning an animal can ever be called an addiction, then I am addicted to our two bichon frisé dogs. I can't imagine life without a dog around and, even though it is a tie and sometimes (not often) inconvenient, I would not be without them. I like them to look good and they go to the groomer every five weeks.

I'm addicted to learning and when we first moved to the French countryside I felt slightly concerned that I would mentally waste away. I then began an Open University course which I enjoyed so much that I decided to carry on and study for a BA in the Humanities. When I eventually get that I'm going to carry on with a Masters and then - if I'm still alive- think about going for a Doctorate even though I'll shuffle forward on my zimmer frame to be awarded it.

Hmm, this isn't easy because I have quite an addictive personality and consciously have to stop myself from getting too obsessed with things, but I have to come up with two more so...

Even though my politics are more in tune with the Guardian and maybe a dash of the Independent, I always look at the Daily Mail online every morning. I'm not going to link to it because I don't want to pass on bad habits.

and finally...

I'm addicted to paying a bill straight away. I think this stems from an early flat-share I was involved in where none of us paid bills very regularly and a Crisis Situation would develop fairly regularly, with my parents being called on to help out. Consequently, now that I've grown up a bit, I've gone to the other extreme.

My bit is now over and I'm going to pass this award on to the following five bloggers:

Blu because she is another expat in Brittany - one who takes beautiful photos of nature - and because blue is my favourite colour

frankofile because she is yet another expat in Brittany (hmm, do I detect a theme here?) - she tells much more about daily life in Brittany than I do and I like to see what goes on in her department.

brother tobias because he is witty and worldly and sophisticated.

contemporary troubadour because it must be very difficult to conduct a romance on a long-distance basis and she writes about it so very well.

carol because I like the things she writes about and I like to see the photos from Thailand.

It's been so hard to single out five bloggers and I think everyone should have at least one award on their sidebar. I must try and design a French Fancy award which I would give away indiscriminately.

My story by Poppy (don't worry, that's my before photo)

My name is Poppy and I've been tagged by Peggy Flobbins who lives with the lovely Lane over at Lanes and I have to tell you seven things about myself.

1. When mum saw me for the first time she did not believe I was a bichon. Mum said I wasn't the right colour to be a bichon and then she found out that in two years I had never had a bath, been combed or cut and she said I was a sorry matted mess. The photo on the right is how I looked then - I couldn't see very well because my eyes were all covered by my hair and hair had got inside the eyes and it hurt me. Good mummy cried a lot when she saw me - I couldn't see her crying but I could hear her. Daddy knelt on the floor and stroked me.


2. They said my first ever mummy was a mad lady. I don't know if she was mad but she kept 16 of us shut up in a small room in France. We never went outside not even for toilet stuff. We had to do that where we were. We never got to eat very much either - my mad mummy used to throw a bit of food in, but the bigger and older dogs got most of it.


3. My doggy mummy and daddy were brother and sister. My good mummy says that I am a victim of in-breeding, whatever that means. My mad mummy came to France from Wales; she didn't have a bed and slept on a sun-lounger as she didn't have much money.


4. I was found because mad mummy got very ill and had to be taken into hospital. Nobody knew what to do with all us dogs and homes had to be found for us very quickly. I didn't like the next home I went to - they weren't very nice to me and didn't understand that I was Disturbed. I didn't know you had to do toilet stuff outside - nobody had told me.


5. After that place I went to two other homes before ending up here in my forever home. I had Problems. I was Difficult. My good mummy and daddy spent a lot of time helping me to Adjust. I had to spend five hours at the groomers after mummy and daddy decided to keep me. But I have a lot of skin trouble and have had many treatments at the vet. They found out I was allergic to lots of things and I have to wear a big lampshade collar most of the time because I want to bite myself. They think I have a bit of mental trouble too. They say I have Food Issues and, after a few incidents involving things I shouldn't have eaten but managed to get at - wax candles, a wooden apple and some sugarless sweets that gave me the yellow and pink walks - oh, I mean runs- everything in our house is high up so that I can't reach it (even though I do still try).


6. Mummy and daddy already had a bichon when they found me. Her name is Misty and she is from a posh place but mummy says that I have cost them much more in vet bills than she ever cost. The picture on the right here is how I look when I don't have the lampshade on. When I go for walks there is so much to see and smell that I forget to bite myself, which means that I don't have to wear the lampshade. In the evening it is also taken off so that I can have a shoulder and face massage. I also love going out in the car - I have a special car lookout seat and people that see us in it take our photo because they say we look cute. I'll be six next year.

7. I never see the dogs that I was shut up with. But a year or so ago by chance mummy met one of the vets who had been involved with our rescue. He told her that it was the worst case of animal neglect that he had ever seen. Mummy cried again. She picked me up and gave me a big hug and I knew that everything was always going to be alright.

I ate some dog food

I recently blogged about the non-delivery of some organic dog food that I'd ordered online. Following on from that I decided that I would return to home cooking for the dogs, something I did about two years ago. The reason I stopped it back then was that I was concerned they would not be getting all the vitamins and minerals they needed. The thing is that commercial dog food was not around in our grandparents' days, yet dogs way back when grew up healthy and happy.

So, back I've gone, and my first concoction - as seen above - is tinned tuna, brown rice, pureed carrots and some sunflower oil. It was so delicious that I had a few spoonfuls,(yes, in front of them - they weren't pleased because they know that the blue bowl is their prep bowl). They also have a cheese course (I know, I know) which is enriched with calcium and into that I press an Omega oil 3,6,9 capsule and a multi vitamin. Their treats are now fresh apple, pear and carrot slices and it's been a joy to say goodbye to the vagaries of delivery vans and the sort of intensive dog food marketing that is aimed at suckers like me.

I know I sound like a doggy nutter and I suppose I am really. I draw the line, however, at clothes for dogs. You'd be surprised at how many dog websites there are now with items like dresses and matching shoes (four of course, be a bit silly with two shoes on four paws), little matching hats and knickers (with a hole for...the tail of course). The only silly dog thing I almost bought was a doggy umberella and a matching human one. Thank goodness I was talked out of it. I want it on record that it was a long time ago and I'm normal again.

Bichons

B
By the way I haven't Photoshopped their whiteness. It costs €90 every five weeks to keep them this way.