Billy & MrsF

Got up at 5.45 am and we Flew from Toulouse to Gatwick at 10.30am and then at 14.00 Gatwick to Rome on Saturday, which was MrsFs birthday. All very smooth and relaxing until we got to Rome to find the geezer at the higher car place was on his jack jones and the hire car was noit back from the car wash. He was not a happy chap but very charming. a lady collegue turned up who had slopped off about an hour previously for fag and he really gave her what for for not making sure the car was ready. Quite funny really.

Got to Suznne and Peters and went straight out to a local restuarant for dinner. We had just sat down when an old bloke came up and kissed MrsF on the back of the kneck, By jingo what a cheeeky chap until we rtealised it was Julias mum and dad. Pete and Trish had left Galan on Friday and driven here to be with Julia for her birthday. A good time was had by all and we hit the sack at about 2am. A long day but well worth it.

Have to keep this short as There is no adsl just dial up.

Ciao

Yehahhhhhhhhhhhh the school holidays are upon us. Actually the two big girls broke up about 2 weeks ago but the Galanites finish tomorrow.

So what has been happening at Chez Billy and MrsF? King loads is the reply. I have been back to blighty twice for probate hearings and to sort out flogging her house. The Courts Service who do the probate have been spot on and to be fair to Old Bid she left everything in number one order. My advice to people who are thinking of dying is dont ponce about with trust funds and this clever scheme and that smart move because all you are doing is making money for solicitors, and they are lazy parasitic bastards who charge you a fortune for sweet FA. No keep it simple and think how easy it for my next of kin to sort all this out?

So apart from jetting back and forth from Carcassonne and East Midlands I have actually got to grips with the swimming pool and it is clean and full of water. I may have mentioned that we had a problem last year with the pool paint which underwent some weird chemical reaction and started peeling off. It had been my intention to strip it off and repaint it. However apart from the little matter of the repairing back and pelvis, the weather had been pretty naf to say the least and you need dry conditions to paint it and several dry days for the paint to cure properly. Not a friggin hope this year. It rained almost constantly for a month and then bingo, it got hot. Not warm hot like 37c hot over night. Being the perfectionist that I am not I thought sod this for a game scrapped off the paint that would come off easily, clean it out and started filling it. The brutes were in there splashing about before the water had reached the first step. Actually it looks ok and it would seem that the paint has stopped peeling for the time being.

MrsF has been hard at work making costumes.  The first was for Matilde (Sabines daughter).  She was taking part in a horse show and the theme was the Middle Ages and Matilde decided to go as a knight.  MrsF volunteered to knock up a costume.  Ha.  Before she even threaded the poxy machine there were several trips to Tarbes for the pattern which they had to order as there is not much call for Knights costumes, then the material then soemthing else.  Fist thing MrsF did was to make a Knightly horse blanket - don’t ask.  Then the armour and chain mail.  I have to say she dont do things by halves.  The pattern was and I am putting this mildly kin complicated.  The midnight oil was burnt as the costume took shape.   Did Matilde say thank you when Julia gave it to her - No, not immediately  because she was beaming from ear to ear and couldn’t.  A smile says so much more than two letters can, especially when the kid in question cant stop smiling with pleasure.  Oh for the record when she stopped grining she did say thank you.

Next up it was a kimono.  In their last year at Galan the children do a project and most of them do some form of animal.  Claudia did the Coyote for some reason better known to Claudia.  She was ready to rock and roll by Christmas and knew her project almost off by heart.  Should any of you want o know anything about the bloody coyote I think we could all help as she ran it by us every day for months.  This year it was Floras turn and she decided to do about Japan. I dont know why she chose Japan but there you go.  Any road up in October last year we got some info off t’internet about the land of the rising nip.  Flora sat on it until about 2 weeks ago.  MrsF had already got the pattern for a Kimono and work started on that before Flora got cracking.  Her efforts were lack lustre and I speak as a slacker and as someone who leaves everything to the last minute.  I tell you how last minute is was, she printed it off on the morning she had to do it.  They say proper planning and preparation prevent piss poor performance - not where Rubs is concerned. oilly She breezed in with her Kimono and two words of Jap and gets an A+.  If that wasn’t bad enough Old Monsiuer Majaourou the heasd techer then lectures the class on how Flora was the only one to put in any effort.  I dont want to do my girl down but….what a Noilly Pratt he is.  Still there you go.

There have also been a fair degree of juvenile high jinks along the line.  Here is a sanp shot.

Some weeks ago I was contacted by the local college where Suzie is and asked by the student welfare bod about a family we are friendly with. Apparently the eldest son had told some of his mates that during a family row his mum had threatened him with a knife. The school knowing we knew them well and due to my former trade and calling called me in for my opinion, which I suppose this makes me a consultant now. I said I thought it was LOB and that although there had been some discord that I was aware of it was just not in mums temprement to be violent. The matter died a death, but then the second son who has been doing exams went awol because he had been refused a pass to a big fete/disco. He was refused a pass for sneaking out of the house at 3am the night before his exams to visit his girl friend. Suzie and Pierre (The foster boy) and some of their friends had gone to the fete and I went to pick them up at about 3am and was surprised to see Master X there. He did not resist arrest, but he was fairly well partied out.

I mention Pierre the Foster boy being at the Fete, because we had him for an extended 10 day period whilst his regular family were getting some R&R and boy do they need it. He has been a right tit to put it mildly. There has been much neferious goings on in Bonrepos of late and I believe Pierre to be responsible. Some time ago Pierre got the tin tack from his work placement scheme for stealing money from the till and from colleagues which amounts to about 5oo Euros in all. He has been forced to pay this back which has left him pretty short of readies. With me so far? Good. Now then, Pierre is a smoker nad has been since his loving ma and pa encouraged him to take upo the week aged 8.  They of course both died from lung cancer.  However without wedge Pierre cant buy himself any fags can he.  Well not then giuys and gals, there is a bunch of scroates who live in Bonrepos who on the face of it  are fairly respectable, but allegedly are in the cigarette smuggling business. They nip over to Spain, buy fags and grog bring them back to France and flog them on.

Now then they are near neighbours of the family Pierre normally lives with ie Martine. About 2 to 3 weeks ago somebody broke in to the fag smugglers barn and then their house. The old bill turned out but the householder said nothing had been nicked so that was that. Pierre has not been without fags since this little incident.

Theres more pop pickers, About a week later Pierre was found with 44 Euros in his pocket which he said came from his Gran, but it didn’t because we asked his Gran. Then he said it was his godmother who was on holiday- in Spain. So nobody was able to prove he was fibbing.

However a few days later it came to light that Pierres 82 year old widowed neighbour had been burgled and had had some money stolen. You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to guess how much, yep you’ve guessed it 44 Euros. Little shit. Social workers etc said there was insufficient proof etc. Broken back or no broken back I am a pensioner now so PACE and the rules of evidence and interrogation don’t apply to me. Thus I did speak unto him in my own particular style.

However, it doesn’t end there, oh no. Pierre was also doing his exams on the Thursday and Friday of last week. The students have to take their official identification and a certificate authorising them to do the exam. The day after he came to stay with us he suddenly remembered that he had left his paper back at Martines house. “Quelle Fromage what ham I tur dur, Bonnet de douche I wont be hable to ged de papers and do de hexam” exclaimed a less than distraught Pierre. “Actually my old son you will, because Martine gave me the papers before she went away” To say he looked miffed is an understatement. He was down but not out though,  and the day before the exam Pierre went to Julia in his Euriah Heap mode and said “Ju JU do you have my papers” MrsF says “No Pierre you know very well you had them with your id card” “Oh no what a problem I think I have lost them, maybe Suzie knows where they are”. Now then here is another top tip, if you are going to shred something and flush it down the bog, makes sure it has all gone and not left floating in the pan. It is not often MrsF get really cross but this was one of those rare times. One phone call later and a duplicate had been faxed across. The official at the Academy du Toulouse started to say it couldn’t be done and there was this problem and that problem. Mrs F cut her short and was firm and basically said that if wasn’t faxed over in the next few minutes she would go to the office and rip out the official’s liver and beat Pierre to death with it. Faced with such a persuasive argument all bureaucratic obstacles disappeared and lo it was faxed.

Pierre went and did the exam having done 30 minutes revision over the whole 10 days - he is ether a genius or a right lazy shit and I think his chances of passing are nigh on zero. Still you can only advise and at the end of the day he is not my kid so NMP.

Having done the exam he was fairly sure it had gone swimmingly and was actually elated on finishing, but his statement that he needed a rest due to the strain he had been under fell on deaf ears.

You will have gathered now that Pierre’s problems are getting worse and they are of his own making. In view of the stealing and other behavioural problems Martine has been restricting his movements and so Pierre felt he was hard done by and asked for a new family.

We were not prepared to have him full time and nor would anyone else. In fact before he was with Martine, Pierre had been with 6 other foster families all of whom could not cope with him. Anyone with half a brain would have realised that the chances iof finding somebody else locally to take on a lying, thieving, lazy, rat bag was slim, but Pierre was adamant he wanted another family. A foster family in Pau have agreed to accept him so he will be going there in August. He will be replaced by two brother aged 7 and 9.

Would you believe it Pierre is moaning like a blocked drain that it is a long way away and that he doesn’t know anyone or have any friends there. He was dripping on about this over a meal and it got too much for Suzie,  She is by in large is fairly easy going good nature lass but she does not suffer fools gladly. She snapped in her rapid fire French said “For Gods sake Pierre, you don’t have any friends here, because you keep stealing from them. You stole from Martine and her neighbours and by rights should be in prison. You asked for a different family and now you have got what you have asked for and you are still belly aching. You are lucky the people there don’t know you like we are all know you, you have a chance to start again and wipe the slate clean, but you wont because you are too stupid” There was silence and Claudia said “Could you pass the chicken please?”

On a lighter note we had the school fair last weekend. We prepared a lunch for 180 ish (Melon, ham grilled sausages and Mergez plus Haricot Tarbais (A sort of bean grown locally), followed by apple pie and washed down with red or rose. It was fair sumptuous repast. But the beans made me fart.
For the last few years I have had great success with my stall which is punish the pirate. This involves me dressing up like a pirate and standing in my home made stocks whilst kids throw wet sponges at me. The committee decided they were not going to let me do it because of my back and pelvis injuries, so instead we devised an assault course for pirates which was inspired by something I had seen at a Paras open day last year.

It was great success, but I am not sure that it was less tyring that being pelted with wet sponges. We had 100 recruits who all passed. All the parents were very pleased, but then I dont think they knew the full meaning of “Argh me hearties, move your scurvy arse you mangy son of a dog” and other similar pirate expressions. We were of course English Pirates and flew the Cross of St George and the skull and cross bones complete with white dagger.

Afterwards we cleared up and had a barbeque with what was left over and maybe one or two galss of red, or rose or both.

On Saturday it will be MrsF s birthday but we will be away on Holiday. We will breakfast in Toulouse, Lunch in London and dinner in Rome. However I arranged a surprise party for her last Tuesday. 28 of us kept the secret despite few near misses and she was a little taken aback when almost everyone turned up at the same time. A good night was had by all I think, because once I was done cooking burger, sausages, mergez and marinated belly pork I felt I was in need of a wee libation or two or three or wharehever hic. I dare say we will repeat the process when the deaths are out in mid July.

So off on Hols on Saturday, a week in Rome and then off to Scarborough. Of course we should have beenw ith granny an dit will be starnge her not actually being there but she will be and we will do what we do when we go to Scarborough and have a good time. The first time we took Suzie to St Jean du Luz she was about 4 years old. it was a wonderful sunny day, we were surrounded by the chic clothes and tanned bodies and the wonderful bare breasts. Did I mention the bare breasts. Suze was stretched out soaking up the sun whn she sat up and looked up and said “You know dad this is very nice, but its not Scarborough is it!” and lay back down again. Flora was also very dismissive of Biaritz as a small child and dismissed it as not being a proper seaside because there were no donkeys!

MrsF is cleaning and tidying the house so the burglars went think she is drunk, a slut and an unfit mother. I am leaving the Land rover at Toulouse airport in the vain hope that somebody might nick it. In the words of Kylie “I should be so lucky”

Arrivederci mes amis.

Ps This has been done in a right hurry so exuce any typos, not that I give a fat frogs arse.

I would just like to say a really big Thank you for all the comments, emails, cards and telephone calls I have had since OB popped off.  They are all very much appreciated and I am really sorry if I have not been in touch personally, but you all know what a slack arse I am when it comes to responding at the best of times, and just recently, well I think you all understand.

Normal pitiful service will be resumed next week.

Flora and Williams Communion went well. A big thanks to Dr and Mrs Death and the deathlets, Mick and Sabrina Rocket Ron and Julie who made the trek over from Blightly for the do. On the Friday night we had a bit of a get together with the above and our new best mates Steve and Katrina. It wasn’t a wake but in true Old school Met fashion we did what we do best. It was a great night. Not because we were pissed but because it was very very noisy. I reckon that the best barometer for s good shindig.

We eventually hit the sack at around 4am and my top tip is that Grappa and Malibu do not mix that well. They talk about these youngsters binge drinking - Hah - kin light weights.

Having found my liver under the settee the next day we got ready for the big day.

The sunday of the communion was also mothers day in France. It was wet and miserable, like the weather had been for the last week or so, but for about 30 minutes after the service the sun came out. Lots of people knew Old Bid and came over to express their condolences. I was to read some prayers with a lady from Galan. When we looked at the prayers two were about mothers day and Stephanie said she would do those and whn I read them I was glad. When our time came she did her first bit then I di mine and then the second reading about mothers. Stephanie really choked and got through the reading and then the tears started. I thought she had lost her um and felt a bit of a cad, and then got a bit confused when I saw her mums mush looking back at me. It transpired she was upset on my behalf.

We headed of to the Ferme Auberge where we pigged out in true weight watchers style. The wine flowed and the chatter got noisier and then home. MrsF and Sabine had made a Gateau a la Broche, which is a Pyrenean cake cooked on a wooden mould over a log fire. It is a weighty beast and has amongst its ingredients 50 eggs, 2 kg of butter, 2 kg flour and a litre of rum.

It wasn’t the same the same without Granny and I think everyone felt it, but we had a good time because that is what she would have wanted. She would have got very cross to see long mopey faces and tears.

The long faces and tears were for Thursday. We flew back on the wednesday and drove up to York from Stanstead.

First port of call was the chapel of rest for those who wanted to see Granny for the last time. MrsF said she would go as she had never seen a dead body and felt that at the age of 22 (surely some mistake) Ed she should break her duck. The kids asked me what I thought and I had to be honest and said that once you’ve seen one dead body you’ve seen them all. and having seen more than my fair share I couldn’t really advise them as to whether they should or shouldn’t go in. As it was they decided they would all go in. I think Billy the Fish was half hoping she would open her eyes and start drinking blood like a true zombie. I knew it was a mistake letting him watch Shawn of the Dead. To his dismay Granny stayed dead and lifeless.

However the first cock up of our arrangements came to light. I had forgotten to give the undertakers a photo of Old Bid so they had no idea what her hair looked like. Instead of her flat cut style she had been coiffured in what one might call a typical Old lady style.

“Who gave her the old Lady hair?” was how Flora put it.

The agreed that hair aside it didn’t look like granny and indeed Granny didn’t look like granny on the last two days she was alive, but I said nowt and just said something along the lines of “That’s death for you”

Thursday came and we assembled at Old Bids for her final drive. As the hearse and funeral cars arrived so did the postman. He said how sorry he was and handed me a packet from Play.com. It was my birthday present to Old bid which had been ordered way back on about the 10th April. You’ve Got to admit that’s service for you. Six weeks to send something out and delivery on your funeral - Here I have just ahd an idea maybe the good people at Play.com could bring out their own albumn, music to watch funerlas to! music to take to the Grave. If you like Gilbert & Sullivan that is.

The funeral went well as far as funerals can. The priest had chosen a gospel and reading that really did reflect Old Bids views on life and more appropriately Death. Then I stepped up to say a few words about my mum. I had a vague Idea about what I was going to say as I got into the pulpit. What I didn’t expect was that this was the moment it hit me. I felt as if my back had been broken again but worse. Fuck me what a time to loose it. I could not let it get the better of me so I stood for a moment smiling like a moron and composed myself and then started with the immortal words “Its funny how……” It wasn’t funny but I had to hold it together and from somewhere came the strength to overcome. I trotted out some of my better death jokes and witty anecdotes about my mum. I hope I said what we all felt.

I think it fair to say that MrsF was very upset, probably more than I was. They were good friends and I know they loved each other very much, they weren’t just close through and accident of birth. She an Old Bid got on really well and were very very close. Does that make sense or am I rambling ?

MF and Mick along with Patrick MFs step son carried old Bid from the church and then it was off to the crematorium.

Why is it that crematoriums always play “The New world Symphony” which was used by British Coal for years on their TV ads with those lines “Come home to a real fire” I have always found it funny and this was no exception. The service was short and we elected to leave the curtains open as it is often too traumatic for people when they close. The service finished with Old Bids favourite song.

Afterwards we had tea and buns and saw some old faces that I haven’t seen in years. Old fiends from when I was at primary school even. There were lots of people there and apart from her circle of friends and cronies from church we were touched by the number who had come along way just to see my mum off. There were too many to mention everyone, but there was TG, Mad Sean, TJB, Big Man, Uncle Norman, Rollo, Rolf, LB and more but I’ve gone blank.

This was the point of the second cock up because a lot of people went to the wrong place for the tea and buns. Oh well you can’t get it right all the time and I suppose we saved a few quid. Actually we didn’t because there wasn’t much left.

More to the point it was a glorious sunny day and the kids played outside and ran around having a laugh and doing what kids do and we chatted and swpaped stories with old friends and family and there was laughter in the air. It was as if the old Bids favourite song we had just heard was being played out for real.

I see trees of green…….. red roses too
I see em bloom….. for me and for you
And I think to myself…. what a wonderful world.

I see skies of blue….. clouds of white
Bright blessed days….dark sacred nights
And I think to myself …..what a wonderful world.

The colors of a rainbow…..so pretty ..in the sky
Are also on the faces…..of people ..going by
I see friends shaking hands…..sayin.. how do you do
Theyre really sayin……i love you.

I hear babies cry…… I watch them grow
Theyll learn much more…..than Ill never know
And I think to myself …..what a wonderful world
Oh Yeah.

I got to York on Saturday afternoonb and went straight to the hospital to see Old Bid.  She did not loo too good at all, but was in goos spirits.

We had a good chat on Staurday night and she said “You know the other day I said I was dying by ionches, well I think I am picking up speed pretty fast.  My lungs are knackered and it’s curtains.  Mind you I am not bothered because there is nothing I can do about it”

It was the first time I had seen her since I broke my back and she was impressed with the scar and how well I looked, although she she did say that she thought I should be a little more careful in the future.

I saw her again and on Sunday Eveneing had a really nice time and said what we needed to say, I told her how much we all loved her and what a great mother she had been.

Old Bid died peacefully at 7am on Monday morning

She had a good life and was a good mum and we all love her very much, but at the end of the day we all have to pop off and she did it with dignity, wisdom and courage.

I am glad she didn’t suffer because she would have made a terrible invalid.

Old Bid was taken into hospital earlier tonight suffering with heart failure.  I am flying back first thing later this morning (Saturday) and will be back in France sometime on Tuesday.

I think even OB may have to admit defeat on getting over here for the communion.  If she doesn’t buck her ideas up she will be getting her own religious service!

I can promise that this entry is unlikely to be what you would call a right riveting read.

Well I can finally say that the bedroom and new shower are finished - PRAISE THE BLOODY LORD, but it has been worth it.  We moved back in this weekend.  It was actually the first time I had slept there since the 21st December.  No I haven’t been in the dog house all that time, but I had my accident on the 22nd and then was confined to the downstairs room when I got out of hospital in January.  The Ikea bed settee we have downstairs is pretty comfy, but not a patch on our bed.  Bliss sheer bliss.

MrsF and I had a good weekend away in Aubeterre sur Dronne.  Its a fascinating and very pretty place built into an escarpment.  The hotel we stayed at is owned by a young couple, she is English and he is French and a Michelin star chief.  Needless to say the food is just the billy bollocks and I ate more than I should have but it was worth it.

We are now in the process of trying to sort out the garden/wilderness and get the swamp/pool ready.  Both are long laborious tasks.  We have also decided to re do the part part of the garden nearest the house.  This has meant taking out all the shrubs and crap that have gone ape around the terrace and rotovating the ground, levelling it and then laying black plastic over it so we can gravel it.  It started as a little project but in true typical Billy ans MrsF style it has become a major job, a little bit like massaging Pamela Andersons Breasts, it starts off ok but you soon get stiff and tired.  But I am sure to be satisfied when I finish.  I reckon the garden will be better as well.

We are getting ready for Flora and William’s first Communion on the 25th.  Not so much and event of monumentus religious significance but more a family get together of importance.  The Deaths are coming along with the deathlets as Dr D is Williams Godfather and Mrs Death is Floras Beloved Godmother.  My sister Mary and Vic the goat are also coming along with Old Bid.  Unfortunately Old Bid has not been too well of late, actually she is dying slowly but surely from heart failure.  Her young GP had tried telling her she should not make the journey as it could be fatal, but my mother would need a stronger excuse or argument than that to stop her.  I should say at this point that death - as in the grim reaper rather than the good doctor- hold no fear for my mum at all.  She has never been worried about popping off, which is why the GP’s comments and fears are wasted.  However I think we all feel that realistically this is likely to be her last visit to us here, so we will do our best to make it special.

The last ten days have been over shadowed by death in one way or the other.  Again I am referring to the grim reaper.

An old friend of mine Harry N was killed in the Congo whilst protecting aid workers delivering humanitarian supplies.  I am unable to go to his funeral, but I suspect it will be a serious piss up.

Then my mums dog bite the dust, mind you he was 16 which is not  bad innings when you consider that works out at about 110 in dog years.

The veggie patch has stuff going in and we will have a bumper crop of raspberries. If the kids and birds dont eat them all.

I used to complain about the kids nicking them, but then a friend of mine rang me to tell me his lad had died aged 21 from leukaemia.  My mate is a grumpy git, but has a magnificent vegetable and fruit garden and it used to drive him spare when the kids nicked the rasps, but he never actually vent his spleen at his offspring.  He told me that the day his boy died, he was with him and was sitting there holding his hand.  The lad said “You know dad, things haven’t been that easy at times, but when it got really rough I always used to think of those gorgeous raspberries we used to nick from the garden.   I loved those raspberries and knew how much you loved us because even though it really used to get your goat you never said anything, but just kept growing more for us. I never realised that those raspberries nicked on sunny days in our garden as a little boy would be thing thing that kept me going.  I close my eyes I can feel the warmth of the sun and I can taste those little red fruits and I know everything is alright”

On a more cheerful note the long long weekend is over and the kids are back to school, although the younger ones have a short week as they are off on a school tirp to Biaritz tomorrow and then there is a strike on Thursday.  There is confusion as to whether there is another day of strikes on Friday, but I think that is optimism on the kids behalf.

Well its May Day and the start of the public holiday bonanza in France.  The 1st, 8th and 12th are all official holidays. So today is a public holiday so everything is shut and the kids are off school.  Tomorrow is an unofficial holiday or “Pont” as the French call it, a pont is a bridge and this extra day simply bridges the one day between the public holiday and the weekend. So many public offices and schools are shut tomorrow, but  a lot of businesses and shops are open as normal.

To make up for this the children were at school all day on Wednesday.  However next week is a little more complicated.

Next Thursday is also a holiday as is the following Monday and so it follows that Friday is also a pont.  It is for the younger children at primary school who will have school all day on Wednesday but then be off until the following Tuesday.  Very simple and practical, BUT possibly not for Suzie who is at Lycee and Claudia at college.  Apparently and I say apparently, because there has been no communication from the respective educational institutions,  the older children will be at school all day on Wednesday and on Friday.  Suzie has been asked to stay with some friends who are going to Argeles sur Mer on the Med coast, leaving on Wednesday afternoon and returning on Sunday evening.   We have a little trip away planned with the rest of the brutes leaving on Wednesday evening and coming back on Sunday night so this is a bit of a kick in the nuts.

Suzie has got in a bit of a flap, but my view is bollocks to the schools she is going on her trip.  If they have a change of plan that flies in the face of the rest of France then hey should communicate this to the parents in reasonable time.  If they don’t, well they can take a running jump.  A French friend in a similar position said we could pretend the kids were ill and I have said no, If the schools want to know why they weren’t at school I will write and say that if the schools can’t be arsed telling us what is happening that’s their problem not ours and they can pick the bones out of that.

MrsF and I are going away for a couple of Days to the town of Aubeterre sur Dronne in the Charente for an arts weekend.  A friend of ours John Gregson is an artist and has recently finished a series of paintings for the new P&O cruise liner Ventura.  I help him with his website and publicity and few other b its and bobs.  He has a exhibition running and we have been invited.  Have a look at the site and his paintings.  I am also hoping to meet up with a very old friend of mine who will be in the neighbourhood.

Once again I find myself catching up after several weeks absence. Part of the problem has been good old Orange who for some reason managed to cock up our ADSL connection. The other part of the problem is a simple lack of time. This bedroom/bathroom renovation malarky has dragged on and on and on and on and on and on, BUT the end is in sight - as the actress said to the bishop. The there is the garden and the pool and loads of other stuff. I reckon we have lost a day every week with having to go to Pau or Toulouse to get stuff. It doesn’t sound much, but its thee hours in the car there and back plus shopping time and I have got to stop at 12.00 for lunch - actually I get in at 11.45 before the rush, after all the arly Billy gets the Jambon Chaud.

Anyway by the time we have done that we are usually back for the kids getting home from school, then its home work, grub and if we are lucky some “quality family time”. My Name Earl is still up there with Father Ted, although recently the kids discovered a Tommy Cooper DVD somebody had leant us and they are quite into that. However as the weather improves we tend to migrate outside.

We have also been a way to stay with friends in Drome Provenece. Beucoup du Cote du Rhone, Nyons Olives and sunshine. All in all tres agreeable indeed, although I find that neck of the woods far to windy. Actually 4 days of 50kmh winds is fairly normal for there. BUt not pour moi.

For those animal lovers who have been so concerned about Stumpy no nuts I can tell you the stump is looking OK. Can’t vouch for where his nuts were though. I wonder is this a case of no nuts is good nuts? probably not from his point of view!

The Fish’s arm came out of plaster and he was walking round like the fugitive or hunch back. He was due to go back to the hospital on the 15 th May. However while we were away last week he sauntered into the kitchen, where we deeply ensconced in our second glass of appero, and casually announced that his elbow was bleeding because one of the pins had come through the skin and was sticking out slightly. It was only bleeding slightly and a plater covered the hole. The next day we rang the hospital and we arranged an emergency appointment for yesterday ie 28th April with the surgeon.

The long and the short of it was that they removed the “pin” from his elbow under a local anaesthetic. Not a pleasant experience according to MrsF as the pin was about 6inches long and shaped like a dagger. The boy was not too fussed although he did say that he wouldn’t rush back for the treatment.

He is rather looking forward to his next stay in hospital as the food was so good. I don’t know how long he thinks he will be in there because he keeps saying “When I am in hospital I can do ……..” You would think he was going to Club Med.

I saw the neurosurgeon who did the repair on my back a couple of weeks ago. The news is very good. The repair is very good and in fact he thinks now that he will be able to remove the titanium plates and screws at the end of the year, where as originally he thought they were going to stay in for ever.

However that is to be confirmed but none the less it is good news. I am now driving a little bit. Local runs only. The only thing I can’t do is put my shoes and socks on but I am making progress there and can actual get my feet to my hands. It’s just the pulling the shoes and socks on that is too much.

One of the rrasons for the improved mobility is that the boy wonder and I started physio a couple of weeks ago and will have this twice a week for the next 5 or 6 weeks. Obviously physio is out for his nibs for the time being as a result of yesterdays procedure but he will be back in the harness soon.

Then weight loss continues to go well, although I am now down to 90kg from my original 106 I just don’t seem to be able to limbo dance into the 80’s. I can’t be doing with getting this low fat spread and stuff. I am not so bothered as to sacrifice the quality, taste and enjoyment of my grub just to be a little thinner. I am not worried about being healthier, I just want to get some of the load off my knees and back. I reckon I am built for comfort not for speed!

The weather has been pretty naff until last weekend. It has been cold windy and very wet. In fact it rained almost none stop for ten days and it had even been sleeting and snowing on and off here whilst the mountains have had more snow than the rest of the winter. The someone flicked the hot switch and suddenly it was 28c. No introduction or warm up and very nice it was too. However it is weird because it was 28 on Sunday and 9c yesterday. Pas normale!

We all took part in a fancy dress party the parents association arranged for the school kids. Flora went as a the Corpse bride, MrsF the corpse bride’s mother, The fish was a pirate and I went as Bob Marley and Suzie was a mysterious woman in BLack.  Claudia went as an Eskimo, but for some reason I dont seem to have a photo of her or MrsF on the PC.  Enquiries will be made to rectify this. Nobody recognised me and in fact nobody talked to me except one for the Gendarmes.

As the summer approaches the swimming pool begs attention. Christ it is a right two and eight and is going to need some work to get it looking like a swamp.

The brutes have been out working in preparation for this years veggie planting. We are limiting ourselves to Aubergines, courgettes, peppers, tomatoes (cherry and beefsteak) chillies, lettuces and carrots.

I have also taken my first step to my outside cooking area. At great expense I got two sort of butcher block/ trolleys from Ikea and a work surface. This will form the basis for my preperation zone. I have also been putting the finishing touches to my first solar water heater that I intend to build - MrsF raises eyes to heaven and shakes her head every time the project is mentioned-Oh she of little faith. I have also found a billydo for solar lighting which is about 300 Euros and provides enough electrickery to light a shed ans some patio lights. However for the time being I will limit myself to the hot water system.

And finally I would like to thank Julia’s Uncle Rat for the following little gems:-

12 of the finest double-entendres that have been aired on TV & radio.

1. Pat Glenn, weightlifting commentator - ‘And this is Gregoriava from
Bulgaria. I saw her snatch this morning and it was amazing!’

2. New Zealand Rugby Commentator - ‘Andrew Mehrtens loves it when Daryl
Gibson comes inside of him.’

3. Ted Walsh - Horse Racing Commentator - ‘This is really a lovely
horse. I once rode her mother.’

4. Harry Carpenter at the Oxford-Cambridge boat race 1977 - ‘Ah, isn’t
that nice.. The wife of the Cambridge President is kissing the Cox of the
Oxford crew.’

5. US PGA Commentator - ‘One of the reasons Arnie (Arnold Palmer) is
playing so well is that, before each tee shot, his wife takes out his
balls and kisses them ….. Oh my god!! What have I just said??’

6. Carenza Lewis about finding food in the Middle Ages on ‘Time Team
Live’ said: ‘You’d eat beaver if you could get it.’

7. A female news anchor who, the day after it was supposed to have
snowed and didn’t, turned to the weatherman and asked, ‘So Bob, where’s
that eight inches you promised me last night?’ Not only did HE have to
leave the set, but half the crew did too, because they were laughing so
hard!

8. Steve Ryder covering the US Masters: ‘Ballesteros felt much better
today after a 69 yesterday.’

9. Clair Frisby talking about a jumbo hot dog on Look North
said: ‘There’s nothing like a big hot sausage inside you on a cold night
like this.’

10. Mike Hallett discussing missed snooker shots on Sky
Sports: ‘Stephen Hendry jumps on Steve Davis’s misses every chance he
gets.’

11. Michael Buerk on watching Phillipa Forrester cuddle up to a male
astronomer for warmth during BBC1’s UK eclipse coverage remarked:
‘They seem cold out there, they’re rubbing each other and he’s only come
in his shorts.’

12. Ken Brown commentating on golfer Nick Faldo and his caddie Fanny
Sunneson lining-up shots at the Scottish Open: ‘Some weeks Nick likes to
use Fanny, other weeks he prefers to do it by himself.’

I will try to post something before July!

People often confuse pussy for cats. They are not one and the same.

I like pussy but am not over fond of cats. We have two cats who live outside and whom I tolerate, just.

Cat number one is a female called Vodka. The name of the cat is nothing to do with me and has not been influenced by my recent medication. I said we should call it Poxy.

The second cat is her son and is called stripes. Individually they areOK but they dont get on to well together as a rule of thumb and are greedy little beggars who make right racket when hungry.

Being a male we had decided to have Stripes done when we got back from our hols in Feb. However the day we were going away Stripes turned up at out place looking slightly the worse for wear. Actually he looked a lot worse for wear and his tail was looking in pretty sorry state and he looked as if he had a one sided argument with a tractor or some other agricultural machine and come a distant second.

The day was saved by Mrs Roynie who called in to make some final arrangements about meeting up with the kids for skiing. MrsR being a cat lover as opposed to pussy lover took pity on Strips and offered to take him to her vet who could sort out the tail and “do” him at the same time. A deal was struck and the hapless Stripes was captured and sent off to his fate and kiss his balls good bye. I have to be honest as a bloke I did feel a pang of guilt but only for few seconds.

The following evening Mrs Roynie rang to say that the operation had gone weel and that Stripes nuts had been taken off but alas his tail was badly broken and the only option was amputation leaving him with a bloody stump.

Poor old stumpy no nuts as he was quickly renamed needed a fair bit of after care and once again MrsR came to the rescue and took nutless to her place until we got back and she looked after him very well.

We picked him up as soon as we got home and you know, the funny thing is that he and Vodka his mother have actually got on much better since the chop.

Everyone loves their mum but in this case we suspect the worst!

Having said that I was sent the following witty dittyn over the weekend by Delboy - you know the bloke, one of my oldest colleagues and friends who  found a skimpy thong up the sleeve of his coat when he came to visit us last year!  Turned out to be his daughters.

To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door - nose height.
Dear Dogs and Cats,

The dishes with the paw print are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming y our food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed.  I am very sorry about this.  Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort.  Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep.  It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible.  I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from the bathroom.  If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open.  I must exit through the same door I entered.  Also, I have been using the bathroom for years – canine or feline attendance is not required.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat’s butt.  I cannot stress this enough!
   
To pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:

To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit & Like to Complain About Our Pets:  

1. They live here. You don’t.
 
2. If you don’t want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. (That’s why they call it “fur-niture.)

3. I like my pets a lot better than I like most people.

Remember: Dogs and cats are better than a lot of kids because they:

1. Eat less
2. Don’t ask for money all the time
3 Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don’t hang out with drug-using friends 
7. Don’t smoke or drink
8. Don’t have to buy the latest fashions
9. Don’t want to wear your clothes
10. Don’t need a gaz illion dollars for college, and… 
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children.