Accordions over lunch

Lunch out in rural Brittany. At 12.05 all the tables (some 120 covers) were taken and kir with hot smoked salmon pastries being enjoyed by all.

Today, a table of 32 family and friends were celebrating a christening, and like us were enjoying a similar meal as us, crevettes and oysters, followed by duck a la creme, then cheese and finally creme brulee accompanied by a very fine bottle of red wine !!

Whilst we were enjoying our coffee and cherry brandies, one of the christening party started to play the accordion and Monsieur le Marie began to sing a very popular Breton song. With much clapping and foot tapping the tables and chairs were moved to the edges of the restaurant, and we were shunted against the wall. Soon most of the restaurant guests, many of whom were nothing to do with the christening party were forming a circle and enjoying the very fast precise foot movements and straight backed breton dancing.

The accordion kept playing, Monsieur ls Marie kept singing and the guests kept dancing......

The Insurance Man

We have known our ‘Insurance Man’ for 8 or 9 years now and he has our trust and respect.

He has advised us well on our business and public liability insurances and the policies for our four gites, visiting them all to ensure that we are adequately insured.

Today, he arrived, having driven the 12km from our local town. ‘Is Monsieur here’, he asked. ‘No’, I reply, ‘He is at work, can I help’.

He shifts from one foot to the other. ‘You have overpaid your home insurance by 12 euros, and I have a cheque for you for the overpayment’.

‘Ah bon’, I reply, holding out my hand to take the cheque he is now very uncomfortably holding.

‘I can only give the cheque to Monsieur’ the Insurance Man explains.

I give a wry smile, the house is in my name, the cheque has been made payable to me.

‘Perhaps I can give the cheque to Monsieur’ I offer, now feeling very sorry for him.

‘No, I’m sorry’ he says still clutching the cheque in the sum of 12 euros, and he is soon gone cheerily waving from his small white car !!

Renovations

I have been watching this house renovation. This house is in the middle of the village, next to the church and up until six months ago it was just a pile of stones, with a few slates for a roof and just openings for windows. This project has been a hive of activity for french artisans, with a different van arriving almost every week, and now this house is being brought back to its former glory. The roof has been completely replaced, new velux's and other windows installed and the re pointing is almost finished.

Many of our guests who stay in our gites are keen to find that perfect french house, and it is good to know that lots do. We now have several regular clients who have bought renovation projects or building land who come back to stay in one of our gites every month or so to watch their dreams become reality.

There are still bargains to be had, just last week, a stone house requiring considerable renovation was put on the market at 12,000 euros.

Moutarde

Our neighbour, a young woman in her thirties keeps an extraordinary amount of livestock in her small, but very well kept garden.
Hens, ducks and geese all seem very content with their quality of, albeit short, life. Rabbits are the new addition and the six purpose built concrete cages are now home to eight or so young rabbits. I fear that 'Moutarde' and 'A cidre' may not be enjoying the fresh dock and dandelion leaves they currently receive on a daily basis for much longer !!

French Kissing

The local shop/ bar/ café is the centre of village life.

I watch the greeting rituals. For some its four kisses (very fast precise head movements required to ensure that the cheeks are in precisely the right place), for others two kisses and for some just one kiss, and then of course the more formal handshake.

Just as you think you have mastered who gets four kisses, who gets two etc etc.. the rules change. As you launch the top half of your body towards the left cheek for the kissing marathon, of someone that has been getting four kisses for the last six months, you are presented with a hand, so with a backward stumble you try to return the composed handshake.

A man, an acquaintance, has just arrived, as I am paying for my baguette, for his morning aperitif. I passed him a few moments ago as he was relieving himself by the side of the road. Bonjour Madame, he says as he firmly grasps my hand.. I pick up my baguette in the other hand and politely say, Bonjour Monsieur….

La Rentree Meeting

When one is anxious about an event, the reality is usually better than it was feared.
The rules of the PTA have changed... everyone is now obliged to become a member !!

The school has 29 pupils from the age of 2 to 11, and these are split into 2 classes.
Eighty five percent of the parents attended the Back to School meeting, all carrying a pen and a small notebook.
I was not disappointed, after the teachers had explained the lessons and projects for the forthcoming year and how again this year, rewards, in the form of increased responsibility would be given to those children who show respect to both their peers and the teachers, the President of the PTA began to speak. A heated and lively debate followed covering many topics, should the Summer school fete be held on a Sunday or Saturday afternoon, how much information relating to the children should be accessible on the Internet and whether the school 4 course lunches are offering enough variety. Pasta was served twice last week, and should Roquefort be offered as well as Camembert ?

The Oak Tree

There is an oak tree just past our house where the road peters out into a track and then into a field. At 6.00 pm on most evenings I go to this now, very familiar tree, sit under its ample branches, watch the slowly changing landscape and feel the weather.

The evening sun was still very strong and the dry east wind quite strong on my face. I sit peacefully watching the big birds of prey quietly circling and Tess (our dog) digging furiously for moles. A favourite pastime of hers, and fortunately moles are faster and more effective burrowers than she is !!

Tree felling

It is about this time of year that you can hear the continual hum of a chainsaw. It appears that every family in France owns a chainsaw. The French are besotted with wood. So not wanting to miss out, we have today felled a huge pine tree. The scent of burning pine in the early morning September mist was quite incredible...but I have other things on my mind...

A decision that I have been mulling over for the last three months is just about to come to a head. Should I, or should I not volunteer to become part of the Parent Teachers Association ?. We have two children (aged 4 and 6), the eldest whom has been going to the local village school for four years.
My french is slowly improving but is not up to the complex political issues that naturally occur between parents and teachers...maybe this is a positive thing ?.
The education of our children is important and if I can help to support the school I am more than willing to do so.
But do I have, as a newcomer (and English) to this very rural community, the right to become part of this potentially volatile organisation, or would they (the other parents and teachers) appreciate my support ?..
The rentree meeting, obligatory for all parents is being held at 8.00pm on Friday, and it is at this meeting I have to decide whether to volunteer or to remain firmly in the background...

La Rentree

La Rentree (back to school) signifies the official end of summer. Window boxes are stripped of the now fading and weary geraniums, garden furniture put into storage and holiday homes across France are shuttered up after the obligatory two month long holiday.

La Rentree is a very significant part of French life and the first day back at school is treated very seriously. The majority of parents, even separated parents are reunited on this day, to take their children to school to ensure that they have an enjoyable rentree and to join their teachers with an early morning hot fresh coffee served in exquisite small cups. Not a jar of Nescafe nor a plastic cup in sight !!..