Another update from the Dordogne valley, where the river has been as high as I have ever seen it. It's slowly returning to normal, but the boats that do the one-hour tours are still not running, as the loading area is still flooded. To board the boat now, you would have to wade in waist high water!! And, that's not allowed.
The most recent excitement was the election, and the demise of the much-despised Sarkozy. On live television, they counted down the seconds (like New Year's Eve!) until 8 p.m. (closing time of polling stations), and, on the dot of 8 the screen showed a picture of Hollande and 52%, and that was taken as the result. It was based on exit polls. But the exact result, which emerged some time during the night, gave the winner 51.7%, only very slightly different. I have no idea how they count the votes so quickly. There are no voting machines, just ballot papers and pencils. But, they count all 63,000 stations in a matter of hours. In Ireland, the exit poll could be well off, especially if Fianna Fail was involved. At the last election the exit poll showed them getting 3 or 4 per cent less than they ended up getting. People were ashamed to tell the pollsters that they had voted for FF! Anyhow, Angela Merkel can't wait to get her claws into Monsieur Hollande. She wants to see him in Berlin as soon as possible!
The garden was in bad shape after five months of neglect. It had rained every day in April, and continued for our first five days here. But, I put on waterproofs and waded in the next day. Weeds, many of which also grow in Dublin, grow much more quickly here, and also get much bigger. My compost bin is now full to the brim, and the trailer is half-full of harvested weeds. I also planted some marigold borders, and several planters, hanging baskets etc. And, once the rain stopped, I cut the grass. It's not a big area, much like a typical suburban lawn in Dublin, but it looks better cut, and fertilised. At last, the rain stopped, and we've had only few showers over several days. It's to be 27 and sunny on Thursday. I'm more concerned about late next week, when several members of my French class arrive for a three day visit. I don't want them to go home covered in rust.
Our neighbour, Madame Charrut (Christiane), arrived during dinner, covered in photo-copies of maps and correspondence with the city council and with the water company (Veolia - who run the Luas). It's seems to be about the abolition of septic tanks, as well as the disposal of rainwater and bath/dishwater. Anyhow, it will cost money to comply, --- thousands she thinks! Phil Hogan, eat your heart out. There may be scope to share piping (and cost) with neighbours, who are all non-compliant. The inspection is free, (and the verdict predictable) but the work is at our expense, and obligatory! I said to her that I might end up in prison, and she fell into convulsions of laughter. I missed out on the inspection phase by not being here, but I'm probably still covered by the revised bye-laws. She offered to open the gate for the inspector, but he said not to bother. Maybe it's not as urgent as she thinks. She enjoys a big drama. She's still convinced that gypsies from the other side of the town are coming to rob us, and maybe cut our throats for good measure. Her house is fenced in like Fort Knox, locked day and night. We lock our gate at night, only because she insists. Her poor husband is not at all well. According to Christiane, he has at least 17 things wrong with him, and it's hard to decide which is the most serious. But, she told me on the phone, before we left Dublin, that she had to summon the SAMU (emergency services) to drag him off to A&E due to an irregular heartbeat. But, he was home again the following day. He's a very nice man, who was born in Algeria (a pied-noir - or black-foot) and earned his living driving a taxi. She also told us a big story about the man who had started to trim her extensive hedge system. Apparently, he discovered some kind of lump on the back of his head, and next thing you know, he couldn't walk. So, he's in hospital recovering, while the hedge continues to grow. A couple of years ago, she employed some cowboys to cut the hedge, and asked them to lower it a bit, as well as giving it a haircut. Unfortunately, they applied most of the pruning to the other side of the hedge, the one that we have to look at. And, the result was a severely butchered hedge (it's leyland cypress) with no greenery at all visible from our side. She never mentioned it, but I know she was embarrassed when she saw it. Two/three years on, it has recovered quite a bit.
The big excitement before returning to France was the party for my mother's 90th birthday. I'm the eldest of her 8 offspring, 5 male and 3 female, and all 8 made it to the event, including one from Australia and one from Canada. She's in reasonable shape for 90, but slow and shaky on her feet. However, she managed to get up and dance, and sing "The Homes of Donegal" and "The Black Velvet Band" as well as staying up until two in the morning, which is more than I could do! 16 of her 29 grandchildren, and three of her seven great-grand-children also turned up. I'm not sure that I ever want to be 90.
Of course Jennifer's recent engagement (second youngest) was also trundling along, with make-up trial runs, selection of wedding dresses, searches for suitable priests etc. etc. going full steam ahead. It's great to be at arms length from any further developments, as Jennifer is given to jumping up and down just a little at the least opportunity! I don't remember this quantity of drama when we got married, 200 years ago. Surely, it was simpler then? I remember being surprised halfway through the Mass to hear a tenor launching into "Panis Angelicus". But, that sort of haphazard planning is not good enough any more!
To get an idea just how many English people live in this area, all you have to do is to attend the twice-yearly sale of used English books, organised by Phoenix, an animal rescue charity. They take in any books you want rid of, give you nothing for them, and sell you any book you want for one euro. Tea, coffee, buns, cakes, quiche etc.are also on sale for one euro. They regularly take in €10,000 in a day! Huge numbers turn up, making the little town of Campsegret feel like Little England for a day. A lot of work goes into organising the thousands of books into alphabetical order of author.
Anyhow, it's nice to hear the sound of lawnmowers again, a sign that summer is on the way!
