Category Archives: Ingrid

Monday 27th March 2017 – I AM COMPLETELY …

… utterly and absolutely whacked.

It all went wrong at about 04:30 when I awoke. 5 or so hours sleep – that’s not bad going.

And I couldn’t go back to sleep either and so by 06:30 I was up and about, tucking into my breakfast when the alarm went off.

After a brief (and I DO mean brief) pause, I went out to work. Whenever have I been out at work before 09:00? And by 10:30 I’d searched through the bits of the barn that were accessible (and a few bits that weren’t either) and while I did find a few things that will come in useful, I didn’t find what I was looking for.

And then I decided to tackle the job that I have been putting off and off for the last 6 years, ever since I returned from selling Expo – and that was to attack the stack of boxes in the lean-to.

6 years hasn’t been kind to them and there are several, complete with their contents, that are totally beyond redemption. Whatever I was keeping, and why I was keeping it, it’s all academic now. I filled another couple of bags of rubbish and that’s not half of it.

But at least by lunchtime that was half of the lean-to sorted through and a couple of boxes rescued. I dragged myself up into the attic for a break and a butty. I reckoned that I had earned it.

A little later, I was joined by Ingrid and we had a really good chat for an hour. We discussed the lean-to and then, to my surprise, Ingrid girded up her loins and we both went downstairs to attack the rest of the lean-to. The beauty of there being two of us was that we were much more focused and within about 45 minutes it had all been reviewed and a few more boxes rescued.

Good old Ingrid.

That was enough for today. Ingrid went home and I had to go to Evaux-les-Bains – apparently I had left a pile of papers and some money (and not an inconsiderable amount) in the hire car when I took it back on Friday.

So what a day. I’m done for, I reckon. I managed some pasta, mushrooms and ratatouille for tea, and now it’s bedtime. I can’t move.

But at least that’s a few things accomplished. And if I had more time, there would be more accomplished too. A raging bonfire is called for, I reckon. We’ve not had one in a bit.

And funnily enough, listening to the music and Velvet Underground come on. “I am tired, I am weary. I could sleep for a thousand years”.

Sounds about right.

Thursday 23rd March 2017 – COURGETTE LEEK AND POTATO …

… soup for lunch. Tea was lentil, pepper and tomato sauce for my pasta, all followed by a raspberry and banana dessert.

The Lap of Luxury, you might think, and indeed you would be right because I had a Meals on Wheels service today. Ingrid came round with a pile of goodies that she had made this morning, especially for me!

Last night, my bunged-up nose and me were in bed early enough and I was soon asleep curled up under the quilt. I had to leave the bed at one point, but here’s a thing – when I went back to sleep it was until the alarm awoke me. And it’s been a while since that has happened.

Pouring with rain outside and cold, wet and miserable inside. I held off for a couple of hours but there’s no point in killing myself for no good reason – I ended up lighting the fire. And it soon became warm in here too. I meant to do some more packing but I couldn’t find the enthusiasm (no big surprise here). I just sat in the warm.

Ingrid came round at lunchtime with my food parcels and in exchange I gave her the big vegetable steamer that I was intending to use on my woodstove. No point in my keeping that now – it may as well go to a good home.

After Ingrid left, I carried on with a little (just a little) desultory tidying up but not making progress, and at 16:00 I rang up to enquire about Caliburn. Apparently he’s still not ready and won’t be done until tomorrow afternoon. And so I curled up in the warmth again.

I had my tea, with grateful thanks again to Ingrid, and then a little relax before going to bed.

But I need to organise myself much more than this. It’s all very well saying that I have nowhere to put anything until Caliburn comes back, but while this s true, I could be doing other stuff. But the weather is getting me right down. I can’t do anything when it’s cold, damp and wet.

I need a change.

Wednesday 22nd March 2017 – ONE THING …

… about being in bed early is that there I was, out like a light, with just the odd bit of tossing and turning, and that was how I stayed until about 06:40. Totally painless. And with the early morning sun streaming into my room, I felt so much better than I did yesterday.

But it had been freezing in the night. The windows in the attic roof were all iced over. But nevertheless it was reasonably warm in the attic while I had my breakfast.

And then I had some work to do. The technician was due to arrive and so it was a good reason to do a little tidying up. And with the bright sunlight I could use the vacuum cleaner too. That didn’t take too long at all.

When he arrived, he told me that the fault wasn’t at my place but at the exchange (GRRRR – after all that!) and in fact, when I looked, I noticed that I had a connection. he helped me configure it and then cleared off. And, as luck would have it, I received a message from Orange to say that as the fault was not on my premises, I wouldn’t be charged for the call-out.

And so as I settled down again, I had a phone call from Ingrid. She had to go to Marcillat and so I invited her round for a coffee – that’s the least that I can do. And that meant that I had to tidy up here in the attic too. I need to be pushed like this.

Anyway, she came round and we had a coffee and a good chat, and then, much to my surprise, she made me a sandwich. And, while I was eating that, she fetched me up a huge pile of wood. Saying that I was overwhelmed is the least of it.

We nipped into Pionsat for the Bank appointment and then came back here for another coffee before she hit the road back to Biollet. I made some tea and then, still struggling with my cold and cough, I headed off to bed.

My bed is absolutely beautiful and it’s soooooooo comfortable, and it’s a shame that I can’t take it with me. It’s out of the question for me to struggle with it out through the window here and down the scaffolding. I remember the issues that I had trying to get it up into the bedroom.

I shall have to think of a Plan B, and I have one in mind

Monday 20th March 2017 – NOW I KNOW …

… why I spent all that money two years ago buying that new bed and expensive mattress and all of that nice bedding. For I was out like a light last night and had one of the most comfortable sleeps that I have had in years. So much so that in fact I was rather reluctant to leave it.

Even more so when I saw what the weather was doing outside. Cold wet and grey, just like I was feeling in fact, so no change there.

But anyway, I managed a decent breakfast – muesli with soya milk, an apple puree thing and grapefruit juice all washed down with coffee of course. And then gathering my wits as well as a few things here and there, Caliburn, Strawberry Moose and I hit the streets.

We ended up at Evaux-les-Bains where I took Caliburn to the menders. Regular readers of this rubbish will recall that back in October in Brussels, Caliburn was the victim of a Belgian driver who didn’t know where the brakes were on his car. Anyway, today he goes to be mended.

And not only that, there’s some rust creeping through that’s making him look a little untidy, and so he’s having that attended to. He’ll be 10 in a couple of weeks time and, unfortunately, he’s starting to show his age. But then, aren’t we all?

They had a little Skoda Fabia for me to borrow while he’s being fixed (that’s why I’m having his body done right now – while I have free access to a hire car). It’s not a bad little car but it’s very plasticky and I can’t see anyone having 10 years out of one of these. But it’s free for five days so good luck to me.

Once I was properly organised I went round to Ingrid’s at Biollet. Ingrid was the only one of my Auvergnat friends who came to see me while I was really ill (of course, never forgetting Jean-Marc who drove all the way from Macon to see me, for which I will always be grateful) and it’s only right that I go to thank her. Generally-speaking, my Auvergnat friends turned out to be one big disappointment. When the going got tough, they certainly got going – but in the opposite direction.

And after all that I’ve done for them too.

Ingrid and I had coffee and a good chat which was very nice, and then I had to go to Montlucon to change my Livebox – that seems to be the reason why I’m not connecting to the internet. And Ingrid offered to come too for the ride and the company which was nice.

Changing the Livebox was a matter of minutes and then it was lunchtime. We repaired to a cafe across the street which fixed us a couple of salads and the dressing was superb.

By now, the sun was out and it was a glorious day – far too nice to go back home, and so I proposed a trip to Clermont Ferrand. Something that I needed to do there and now seemed like as good a time as any. We had an exciting time trying to find the Prefecture, and an even more exciting time trying to find the car afterwards. But it was only 5 minutes at the Prefecture and we spent the remainder of the two hours sitting in the sunshine at a cafe on the Place de Jaude. And very nice it was too.

I stopped for a coffee back at Ingrid’s and then headed for home. The Skoda is a nice little car but it’s not for me – I’ll tell you that for nothing. And back here I crashed out. It had been a long tiring day and I’m not as young as I was.

And the new Livebox?

That’s not perishing working either!

Tuesday 9th February 2016 – I HAD A VISITOR TODAY

And wasn’t that nice too? Ingrid came round to visit me for a couple of hours to see how I was doing and that cheered me up greatly. It’s nice to have good friends and it’s nice for them to take an interest in what is going on and in what you are doing. She came round ar 15:00 and we were chatting away until after 17:00, with lots of news about people whom we used to know. After all, since the demise of all of the community self-help groups that we used to have, we’ve all been out of touch with everyone else and what’s been going on.

After Ingrid left, we had tea. Liz had made some vegan pies in the morning before going to work and I had mine with a baked potato, broccoli and sweet corn. Absolutely gorgeous, it was too.

And I needed it too because I was exhausted after a most astonishing series of lengthy rambles during the night. It started off with a group of six women, blasted off in a rocket to go to a distant planet. When they arrive, they divide themselves up into three groups of two. One of these pairs, an older woman and a younger one, leave the rocket to go in search of intelligent life, I suppose. However they become separated and the younger one, who is very insecure, wanders around very carefully trying to avoid being contacted and meeting anyone. She then finds a little shower block kind of place where she can take a shower. Its a white stuccoed stone-built small circular building but on multi-levels descending deep underground with just one shower on each level and a continual supply of warm water. It’s just like a scene from one of the Our Man Flint films. Down in the basement where there are actually two shower units and someone has been doing some plumbing there, she finds a suitable shower where she can have a wash even though there is no soap. In mid shower, she’s interrupted by two humanoid women who work here – clearly human but clearly of this planet. She asks them if they have any soap which takes them quite by surprise. But still, someone produces some. They start to chat and this young girl from the spacecraft reveals that her interest is in Population – both growth and control. Just by chance, it turns out that this is the Office of Demographics of this planet so they decide to engage her. They are very very friendly and very very helpful, finding her a desk, somewhere to sit, some work to do, and they add her onto all of the rotas for holidays, birthday cakes, memo distribution. She fits in straight away, right from Day One.
And what was my role in all of this? I’ve no idea but after a trip down the corridor it was my turn to be new in an office. I was wandering around there, getting my bearings, and I met up with Laurence’s step-father Paulo. We had a long chat and he invited me to lunch, taking me to a café. And it was the worst café that I have ever visited. The queues were absolutely enormous with one queue for meals and another queue for snacks and no-one came to serve at the queue for snacks, except on the very very odd occasion. Someone would, very occasionally, be moved on from there but we waited and waited. The place was filthy and horrible and the servers were quite disgusting, picking up and serving the sticky cakes with their fingers and then licking their fingers clean. Eventually we did make it to the head of the queue, Paulo, his friend, and me, and we found the food to be very very basic, something with chips. I just asked for a giant plate of chips but they were freezing, freezing cold. It was horrible, the worst café in the world and I can’t think of any reason at all why anyone would ever want to come and eat here, in this filthy café with this disgraceful service and shocking food.
From here, we wound ourselves backwards to Hillbilly days and we had received a carriage from the Flying Scotsman. It was to be converted into a convertible for some kind of exhibition or other, which we were very unhappy about, but we had won this prize and that was that. We had to go to stay in this place in the Wilderness which was two converted railway carriages used as holiday homes. It was the weirdest place that I’ve ever visited or ever been. The people who were running it were strange people to say the least and there were two guys there more content on stealing everything that they could lay their hands on rather than anything else. And that includes one of the carriages, for which they had rigged up one kind of cable and winch to help them tow it away. But we were easily able to outwit these men because they were not too bright, to say the least. The people who ran it were as poor as church mice and doing everything in their power to try to get more money. One thing that they were trying to do was to defraud the baker, and we had to continually speak to the baker to ensure that we received our order and that it was correct. We noticed that the food that these people were eating was disgusting – cheap, offal kind of meat slices and cheese slices. They were even eating kittens and one of our party, a young girl (wherever did she spring from) was so dismayed about this. We tried to convince her that this is what rural people have to do – kittens are useless mouths and out there you have to eat anything that presents itself and which would otherwise consume foodstuffs itself.
By now we were at an airport and waiting for a couple of people to arrive (and this had strains of déjà vu about it too). Four people in fact, and they turned out to be a girl who has featured occasionally in these nocturnal rambles, her mother, her friend and her friend’s mother. We had to take them somewhere and so they all piled into the car, which was my father’s old grey Cortina. But then the girl suddenly remembered that she had forgotten something and dashed out of the car to fetch it. We were all there urging her to get a move on. But eventually I parked the car up and decided that I would abandon it, as I have done with a variety of other Cortinas during my nocturnal ramblings . It needed to be emptied but as it was still dark I connected up a light to the car’s battery but it wasn’t good enough to see very much so I decided on coming back a little later to do it when it was light. But “a little later” meant that it was even darker because it had been the evening just a couple of hours ago. I’d also left the light connected and so I was wondering if the battery of the car would be flat by now. There was one of these “know it all” teenagers hanging around offering me all kinds of gratuitous advice and that was getting on my nerves too.

No wonder that I was exhausted. I even managed a sort-of lie in until 08:15 too. But it wasn’t quite as good as it sounds because according to the dictaphone, which I use during the night to record these adventures, I’d woken up every two hours or so anyway, just like being back at hospital, I suppose. I can see me having to work hard to snap myself out of this. But it’s perfectly understandable that I didn’t do very much this morning either after all of this during the night.

Friday 15th January 2016 – THE ROAD TO MONTLUCON …

… wasn’t too bad this morning. I was up bright and early … "well, maybe not so bright" – ed … at 07:00 and by 07:25 I was on the road with a nice thermal mug of hot coffee to keep me going.

I took it fairly easy and although Caliburn slipped around in a couple of places we didn’t have any big issues. Even going down the Font Nanaud wasn’t anything like the challenge that I expected it to be, and by the time that I reached whatever the name of the place is in between Marcillat and Villebret, the road was pretty clear. All in all, it only took me 10 or so minutes longer than usual and I was parked up at the hospital by 08:30 as usual.

Mind you, I’d beaten all of the staff of the day hospital into work so had to hang around 10 minutes before the doors opened up. And then, being first in, I could have my comfy spec in the armchair in the corner by the radiator and the power point.

It was the student nurse who came to fit my drain and that filled me full of foreboding. She was the one who had had three tries the other week before abandoning the job and calling for a friend. But today, to my surprise, not only did she do it in one, it was the least painful of all of them.

And here we had the confusion, much to my dismay. It was the young doctor who had telephoned yesterday to summon me to hospital, and although he had probably told the nurses that I was coming, there had been some confusion about the ordering of my blood. Consequently, I had to wait until about 11:15 for the blood to arrive. Then we had the new marvels of modern 21st-Century technology for warming up the blood – to wit – me stuffing it up my jumper.

At about 11:40, someone brought me a nice hot cup of coffee. I’d only been waiting since about 09:00 (the first time that I asked). But in the meantime I’d not been idle. I’d downloaded another whole pile of stuff from www.archive.org and now I reckon that I have a whole decent set of radio programmes to keep me company. I’ll have to check to see if I can find The Men From The Ministry because I forgot about that.

Running so late, I ordered lunch, and ended up with asparagus and tomato for starters, rice and boiled carrots with a bread roll for main course, and then apple purée and an orange for desert. Not the most exciting meal that I’ve ever had, by a long chalk, but it was quite filling and actually tasted quite nice.

It was 14:50 by the time that they had finished with me and I was really disappointed by this. But every cloud has a silver lining, for Ingrid was in the hospital and due to finish what she was doing at 15:00. So go down to the shops or have a coffee with Ingrid? No competition really, is there?

By 16:20 I was on the road and by then, the return journey was a very different story. There had been a flurry of snow in Montlucon at lunchtime and everyone had rushed to the window to see it. But by the time I reached Villebret there was much more than just a flurry and it gradually worsened the higher into the mountains that I climbed. The drag up to the Font Nanaud (height, 934 metres) was exciting, especially as there had been no snowplough or gritter south of Pionsat (I eventually met one, coming towards me from St Gervais) and I was right behind a Mercedes Vito towing a plant trailer with a mini-loader on the back.

He of course had no chance, but he did his best. Rear-wheel drive is useless in this weather when you are pulling something like that and he was sliding everywhere across the road, fighting for grip. He ought to have realised that it was pointless and should have turned round on the old railway track bed to go back down, but he pressed gamely on.

It wasn’t very long before the inevitable happened. He completely lost traction, slewed across the road and came to a shuddering stop. I couldn’t stop to help him because I would have lost traction too so I chugged on over the top and down the bank towards St Gervais.

snow january 2016 centre ornithologique st gervais d'auvergne puy de dome franceThe conditions round by St Gervais weren’t quite so bad as up on the Font, and the farther south that you travelled, the easier the route became.

By the time I got to Phoen … errr … the Centre Ornithologique, things had cleared quite considerably and the roads were much easier to move about, which was good news for me.

snow january 2016 centre ornithologique st gervais d'auvergne puy de dome franceI stopped here to take a few photographs of the snow, to record it for posterity. St Gervais, over there on the hill about 100 feet higher up than where I am, looks particularly covered and you can tell by the sky that there’s more to come.

Pulling away from here wasn’t easy either, with a couple of traction issues to get over the ridges made by the car tyres in the snow. But I was soon off and back down here to dig myself in for the foreseeable future.

I have no plans for going out anywhere else until my next hospital visit. And that’s a thought to depress just about anyone

Just in case you are wondering, we had none of the usual suspects, no family members and only one slight mention of a place of my previous existence during my nocturnal rambles of last night.

I’ve no idea where I was when I started off last night but it was a place that I certainly didn’t recognise, somewhere on the coast of the UK. It was a holiday resort, at a part of the town that was inland a little and high up with a view over the bay. There was quite a group of us and we’d heard that one of our rock heroes or bands was playing in this place at the carnival on the seafront. The word “Jubilee” was mentioned, and it turned out that Jubilee was a suburb of this particular town with access to the sea, so I was making a few enquiries to find out which trams we needed to catch to go there. There was a tram stop just outside the building where we were staying and I was trying to read the timetables and tram routes. But I was there for hours trying to find out which tram it was that went to Jubilee, with trams passing in front of me and all around me. In the end, I went back into the building, which was the hospital where I’d been a few days ago.
We then had an old woman putting in an appearance. I’ve no idea who she was but last night she was living next door to me and I had her doing quite a few of my affairs for me. I’d just turn up out of the blue and she’d do a few things for me and then I’d go off again. When I was there last time, and had her go along and do something for me, and as a reward I had paid for her haircut at the hairdressers. She said that she had only just been, so I told her to go again and have the same cut done, or something else, a second time. And so she ended up with almost no hair. She also said that next day she was going into hospital for an urgent operation but that cut no ice with me. I was supposedly in Crewe by this time, Alton Street or somewhere around there. I had wandered off somewhere and a couple of days later I was back, still looking for this Jubilee. I went into the local hospital and here I came across this woman. she’d had her surgery and I’d forgotten completely about it, so I had to pretend to be interested and to talk to her about it. I’d intended to go to see her later in the day in fact because this was really early in the morning when I arrived. But she was awake this early so we had the chat about her operation
From here I went off to work as a general handyman for some rich old lady. We were somewhere in an urban French environment and she took me with her, beckoned me to follow her around and through these old outbuildings into a large barn-type of place and through into a garage that fronted the street. I had to open the doors to let her friend in with a car. These buildings were full of what I thought were dead insects but she explained that they were immature crabs. She’d bought a huge pile of them but ended up with 100 too many but rather than take them back she’d just dumped them out of the car and they had all died. So we managed to bring the car in and then we went off, her beckoning me to follow once more up to a gallery place with a metal walkway. She’d erected a kind of metal fence around it that went around a kind of headland that she owned or had something to do with. It seemed that the neighbours had objected to the fence (it was merely strands of barbed wire) and so it had to be pulled up, so that was my job. Some guy who worked for some Civil Service body was watching me, telling me what a good job it was in the Civil Service and how I ought to apply to work there. But I was busy pulling up these stakes and coiling up this wire. He wanted to know what I was going to do with this wire so I replied that I was going to keep it – one of the perks of my job. He had quite a moan about that. meantime, I’d noticed that this wire was swinging around all over the road so I had to go down and coil it up properly. I’d also had to consult my telephone to see what was going on because someone else had started this job with me but had gone again, so I wanted to see where he was. However, I somehow managed to connect to a film on this telephone – a black-and-white film of the 30s with some film star appearing in it and I couldn’t stop it – each time that I tried to press “stop” or to switch it off, I had a “buy it now” screen. The volume was set quite loud – I couldn’t lower that and everyone in the area could hear it.

And so despite my trip to Montlucon today, I reckon that I’m still cracking up far more miles during the night. It’s hardly any surprise that I’m so exhausted these days.

But I do wonder what it is that they are putting in my food to make all of this happen.

Monday 23rd November 2015 – AT LAST!

Yes, a good night’s sleep. It took me ages to drop off but once I fell asleep that was me gone away with the fairies and I felt absolutely nothing at all. Totally painless.

And for once, no-one came to bother me during the night (well, if they did, I know nothing about it) and the morning visits were later than usual so I had a really good night’s sleep. And didn’t I feel better next morning?

I’d been on my travels during the night too. In the south of France during the war and a member of SOE had just paddled ashore in his canoe, evading a German canoe patrol just offshore (you could tell the Germans because they had 2-pronged tridents with points that pointed outwards). As he paddled along the road (yes, you ought to be used to thins right now) a Vichy patrol consisting of an old man in a Citroen H-type van silently pulled up alongside him and leapt on top of him. This is where I came in and I cracked the old guy sharply across the back of the head with a Stillsons wrench.

I had a quiet morning doing my University course but I was quickly interrupted several times in rapid succession.

Firstly, it seems that they suspect that I have leukaemia so they wanted a bone marrow sample, and that’s not something to be undertaken lightly – I’ll promise you that. And then I had a new room-mate – a guy in his 70s or maybe even older.

But what was nice was that Ingrid came to visit. She’s Dutch and lives in Biollet and came to the Anglo-French group. She works as a Health Visitor and one of her clients is in hospital here, so she popped in to say hello and have a really good chat. That was quite a pleasant surprise.

While Ingrid was here, one of the nurses came by and dropped a packet on the table. “Take this with you when you go – it’s your tea”
“When I go?”
“Ohh yes – you’re moving”
I thought that the issues that I’d been having had resolved themselves but it seems that they have resolved themselves into another direction. I’ve now been moved to a new department – the Oncology/Haematology department – and so it’s looking very much as if their suspicions are indeed lurching towards leukaemia.

I’ve a lovely little room here all to myself. Nice and modern with en-suite facilities – I’ve paid good money to sleep in far worse hotels and motels than this and for once my luck seems to be in, although the nurses aren’t quite as young, vibrant and exciting, which is a disappointment.

But you can’t have everything, I suppose.

Wednesday 24th December 2014 – I HAVE HAD A CALAMITY HERE TODAY.

Most of you know by now that my favourite comedian – in fact, my favourite media personality, is none other than the famous, if not legendary Frankie Howerd. My first serious encounter with him was in my early youth, in the TV series “Up Pompeii” in which he played Lurcio, the slave. About 20 years ago, the BBC rebroadcast all of the episodes and I recorded them on Video, and they were my first transfer onto DVD.

All of the episodes, including the pilot issue and the “Further Up Pompeii” series, were crammed onto 3 DVDs and I’ve been watching one episode each morning over breakfast now that I’ve finished the marathon that was the Saint.

I went to put the second DVD in today but it wouldn’t play, and a closer inspection revealed that the disc is split. So that’s destined for the bin and I’m devastated, particularly as the cassettes from which the DVDs were copied went into the dechetterie at Brussels when I emptied my apartment there.

So what do I do now?

ON the other hand, I’ve had a surprising evening this evening. I was invited out for a meal at a friend’s house. This friend has a friend who is chef at something of a famous restaurant in the Allier and for New Years Eve he’s on duty. And for the first time ever, he has two clients coming who are vegans.

He put a bit of research into a menu but seeing as how he had never cooked anything like this before, he wanted a guinea-pig to taste his concoction. Hence my invitation to dinner.

And the result? all I can say about it is that if the guests receive what I received this evening, they will be delighted. This was about the best meal that I have ever eaten in my life and I will give his restaurant five stars on this basis alone.

During the night, I was on my travels again. I was in Crewe – Mill Street in fact, and Mill Street before all of the demolitions and slum clearances in the 1960s. I’m not sure exactly why I was there.

At work, I pulled up the stairs that I had put into position yesterday, and the first thing that I did was to varnish the upper side of the wood. While it was drying, I sanded down the filling that I had done in the plasterboard that I had fitted yesterday, and then wallpapered the plasterboard. Once I’d done that, I masked off everything ready for painting.

While the paste was drying I suddenly had rather a dramatic revelation that stopped me dead in my tracks. It seems that I have forgotten to buy any paint to paint the wallpaper. This is a serious setback and that’s going to hold me up for a few days.

I varnished the reverse side of the wood for the stairs and then called it an early day. After all, it is Christmas Eve and I’m a bit stuck right now for the moment. but one good thing is that having cleaned out the chimney, I could bank up a really good fire and I had a big kettle of water boiling away in less than half an hour. I had a lovely hot wash ready for my trip out this evening.

Saturday 29th November 2014 – WHAT A PLEASANT DAY.

We were invited round to Clotilde’s for lunch today. It’s been ages since I’ve seen her so I was quite looking forward to it.

I had a little lie in this morning (slept through the alarms again – whoops!) and then had a nice relaxing morning catching up on a few things that I’ve let go while I was doing this Christmas Special

At 11:30 I cleared off down to Clotilde’s for lunch, and was delighted to see not only Clotilde, Liz, Terry and Rosemary, but also Ingrid who I haven’t seen for years. There was also another couple there who I had never met before.

Clotilde had cooked a really nice vegan lunch, which was very thoughtful of her and then seeing as how the weather was quite reasonable, we went for a walk.

st priest les champs combrailles puy de sancy puy de dome franceFrom Clotilde’s house there’s a good walk through the old quarries of the Gré de lapeize, the stone with which much of St Gervais and St Priest was built.

From the top of the hill at the back, near to where Arno lives, there’s a magnificent view of the town of St Priest les Champs across the valley in the distance, with the Puy de Sancy in the distance.

puy de dome franceFrom there we went round the corner and up to the top of the next hill, and from there was a lovely view of the Puy de Dome in the distance.

I couldn’t resist taking a photo of it. And I’m glad that we are in late autumn because the absence of leaves on the trees at this time of the year add some different kind of dimension to the photo.

This evening I was down at Pionsat for the football. Pionsat’s 2nd XI were playing Teilhet. And despite the strength of the team that Pionsat put out (and there won’t be a stronger team than this on the field for the 2nd XI), they really struggled and the attack offered absolutely nothing at all. And that’s a surprise considering the fact that in the 8 games to date, they’ve scored 31 goals. An utterly impotent offering.

They ended up beating the Goatslayers 1-0, with the goal coming from a corner. The ball was headed out but only as far as blond Frederic on the edge of the area who put everything into it that he had, including the kitchen sink.

Still, a win is a win, as anyone will tell you, and the top 4 clubs, including Piosat, have now broken well clear of the pack.