Monday, November 29, 2010
Christmas Missive 2010
Happy Christmas and a Great New Year or Joyeux Noël et bonne année, as they say in these parts!!
Dear All
Once more an early Christmas Missive for 2010!!
Well as for our move to France, we’re still here, don’t let the English stamps confuse you, we planned ahead purchased them during our last UK trip and a friend travelling back to the UK has posted them for us and saved us some money along the way!! Yes we’re still in France, still renting La Loge and not much further on, but I do officially become an early pensioner in February, so who knows!! This is a brief Family Christmas Missive for “more” visit the blog http://ithappenedonethursdayinfebruary.blogspot.com/
It has been a bit of a year of ups and downs, the downs to start with; both Linda and I lost an Aunt (Linda’s Auntie Phyllis and my Aunt Marg) as well as a couple of dear good friends and as many of you will know, Max our faithful brown hound went to the kennel in the sky, even now some months later we still almost expect him to be there – certainly when the French Bread is on the table. Also, the house in York was sold then wasn’t and remains unsold– hence the limbo we are in regarding long term plans. Also, on our main visit to the UK in the summer the car had to have some expensive major work done – thank goodness for a mechanic in the family!!
As for the ups, we have once again welcomed many of you to our wonderful part of the Vendée, where although this year the sun didn’t shine quite as much, the ponds did all dry up and the veg needed lots of water, and shorts and tee-shirts were the order of most days. Hopefully, the visitors will continue next year and maybe once again see some new faces! Perhaps the funniest visitors were some friends from Stroud, who unannounced popped in for a cup of tea!! They were en route from the Dordogne to Brittany where their daughter lives!! It was great to see them and luckily they caught us in – it is however best to let us know you’re coming, and it’s a good place to break your journey if travelling up or down France – about 35 miles inland from La Rochelle. We have also made some good English friends and so have a slightly greater social life, but although slowly learning the lingo and making sure we go to as many local events as possible, socialising with the French is more difficult, but has gone past the commenting solely on the weather stage – although living in a rural crop growing area it is a common topic of conversation amongst the French, not only an English phenomena!!
We also had a fantastic time getting to know our absentee landlord who spends the summer here and the rest of the year in Spain. Linda became his IT technician and I became his official photographer and we have very many happy memories of a truly gracious gentleman and eccentric – you’ll find much more about him on the blog, suffice to say here, he now signs his emails “Madame, la coqueluche du village!” Yes – “Madame!!” the rest meaning the rage / darling / favourite (take your pick!) of the village!!
Now for the family news: Linda as well as various work around the house and in the garden, walks in the countryside, weekly trips to the swimming pool and shops, has continued to fill the store cupboard with tasty jams and preserves and gone into furniture restoration and upholstery in quite a big way – it’s amazing how with a lot of elbow grease, and not a little huffing and puffing, some of our more jaded pieces of furniture have been rejuvenated!!
Daniel and Lisa continue to make improvements to their house (with a bit of help from his father!!) and by Christmas will both have newer cars, Lisa because her old one needed replacing, Daniel because some bright spark recently ran into the back of him and wrote his car off, fortunately he was alright – sods law though he had just spent a lot of money on it sorting out the brakes. They both remain very active in St John Ambulance, Lisa running the Stroud Badgers and Daniel the adult division as well as being involved in the Child Protection Team, and doing duties and training courses, he is now qualified to be an Ambulance Attendant and next step is to be able to drive the ambulance with “blues and twos” as they say!! Daniel has just been up to St James Palace to receive his Gold Duke of Edinburgh Award from the man himself, usually now the awards are made by Edward who is taking over from his father.
Victoria meanwhile, has done her 6 month stint in China, had a great time not only teaching English to children and youngsters, but also making the most of her time off to see lots of China, sometimes alone and sometimes with new found friends. Unfortunately, Dermot found he was unable to travel to China, due to his job, so they ended up meeting in Singapore / Malaya for a few days. They had a great time, including Gin Slings and a meal in Raffles Hotel (following in her father’s footsteps, but I was too young for the gin so made do with a coke and the family too poor for a meal so had to make do with a stall quite literally on the side of the road at Bedo Corner!). She also seems to have had two or three cars this year, after a false start with the first that had to go back – long story!!, but now has a small runabout to get her to college / placements. She was thrown straight into her Teaching Course on her return from China, with hardly time for her feet to touch the ground, but it is all going very well and we keep getting excited Skype calls – as a friend said the other day (she is also a retired teacher!): “She is so enthusiastic about her teaching. I think we could all suddenly see ourselves 40 years ago when we were just beginning.” Another recent excited call was to say she had just heard that she, through St John, had been awarded a “Sovereign’s Award,” one of only ten awarded annually, the excitement only tempered a little as she found out that it was Princess Anne again (She has met her on several occasions!!) and not the Queen herself making the presentation.
Linda and I have not returned to the UK so much this year, but have managed to fathom out the French Tax system, and beaten the bureaucracy and managed to register the caravan in France, allowing us a couple of short breaks to Saumur by the river and Royan by the sea. Plans are now afoot to look for some better weather early next year and head south for three weeks or so. As for me I continue with my cooking, writing, photography and have taken up sculpture!! Reviews to date range from “Well it’s interesting” to “C..p!!” Then there’s the garden, walking etc. etc. As I’ve said before “I just don’t know where the time goes!!”
Lots of love
Roger and Linda
Missive 24 ~ Did I ever tell you how lucky we are?
rogerhiggs@hotmail.co.uk
Mes chers amis
Did I ever tell you how lucky we are? ~ Missive 24
“Just tell yourself, Duckie, you're really quite lucky!”
Dr Seuss, American Writer and Cartoonist
“Name the greatest of all inventors: Accident.”Samuel Langhorne Clemens, better known as Mark Twain; Author and humorist.
The first of these quotes is from Dr Seuss’ small cartoon book entitled “Did I ever tell you how lucky you are,” about an unfortunate man who has to spend his life sitting on a cactus!! Yes I’ve pinched the title (nearly) for this missive, but it’s also a book that brings back happy memories of my early teaching career, and is worthy of mention here by way of celebration! Firstly, as luckily I have never had to spend my time sitting on a cactus, despite some prickly moments along the way, but more importantly as we reach with this missive a milestone; no not quite two years of missives (that’s next month!), no not finally being able to be retired early (that’s February), no the writing of this missive will take the grand total or words to over the 100,000 mark, or indeed a medium sized novel – so all of you who complain about the length of these monthly epistles, it’s only been like reading a book over the last 23 months, if you’re too busy for that you need to look at your work – life balance!!!
That 100,000 words is just the missives, there has been plenty of other writings along the way and with a quick bit of maths, works out at approximately 4348 words a month or nearly 145 words every day!! To put that into context or “column” space that’s a little less than the paragraph before this one!! Which neatly brings me back to the theme of “How Lucky we are,” firstly to have the time to spend writing these words and perhaps feeling that a small paragraph a day is an achievement!, but also to have had the experiences we have along the way to share with you, or the time to think about issues that we deem important and sometimes impart these to you!!
Indeed, rarely does a day go by when I don’t open the shutters, look at the view and having pinched myself, go on to realise just how lucky we are, and also how right we were to make what at the time was a very difficult, and in other people’s minds perhaps brave or even foolish, decision. But as my brother said at the time “Life isn’t a dress rehearsal, you only get one chance” and although maybe it hasn’t all gone too smoothly, certainly with some hiccups along the way, nearly two years down the line I’m glad we took the chance!
So I guess no apologies for this missive once again focussing on “the good life,” after all it could have been a seat on a cactus, and then I’m sure the tone of any missive I felt inclined to write would have been altogether more prickly!! And to put the record straight, the writing doesn’t tend to be just a short paragraph each day, no it comes in fits and starts, and I’m just starting this missive (which may run to over 4000 words) with just a couple of days to go until the end of the month deadline!, with lots of other things to fill the time in between. During the rest of the month there are obviously other snippets and ideas written down ready for the mad rush near to the deadline, often just scraps of paper with a hasty note, that are later shuffled into some semblance of order!
Also, I’d like to say that I write in some sort of writer’s garret, overlooking the open fields and chateau parkland that surround us, with clear views of the weather sweeping in and the stunning flora and fauna that abounds and features frequently in the missives. But unfortunately, initially it was quite literally on my laptop on my lap, but more recently spread out on the dining table and needing to be cleared off before we can eat – that explains any parts that suddenly seem disjointed in some way –dinner was ready!!, although this doesn’t happen too often, as much of the writing is done late at night or in the early hours of the morning – I’m still something of a night owl, made all the easier as getting up early in the morning isn’t necessary!
There’s been a murder – Watch this space!!
OK a little melodramatic, and maybe not the right sort of section for a missive on “Luckiness” as obviously the victim was far from lucky, but it did happen in 1984 and at the moment for us at least remains something of a mystery. How do we know, I hear you say and that’s the interesting and indeed mysterious bit!!
We have recently had a spell of very wet weather, not always particularly cold, but those damp, miserable days that seem never to get properly daylight, punctuated with heavy showers where the sky goes black and the wind builds and buffets the showers that sweep across the fields, better for us if they come from the south, we’re a little sheltered by the chateau and its avenues of trees. Days when it is difficult to get out of the house as by the time you have togged up after the last shower, another one is bearing down on you. The sort of weather there may well have been in February 1984, when Joe ..... was arrested for homicide, and again I hear the cry going up “But how do you know!”
Well, I’m coming to that shortly, but in good time! Having been cooped up in the house for too long, watching the clouds scudding across the sky and sensing that there just might be a bit of a break in the clouds and a chance to take the air and maybe a good opportunity to take some dramatic cloud shots as the next angry mass bore down on me. So off I go, coat “in case” and camera slung over my shoulder, over the terrace, across the yard and down the avenue in front of the freshly painted chateau gates, the brilliant white standing out starkly in front of the menacing black clouds that would soon be upon me, then there it was!
At this point it would be much more theatrical to say there in front of me was the body, the heavy rain having washed away the thin covering of soil from the hastily dug grave, but actually all that was there was a small piece of yellowed paper, lying by the side or the road covered in spidery French style handwriting, looking for all intent and purpose like someone’s discarded shopping list, blown on the wind to where I now found it. But two things were interesting that made me stop and pick it up, not simply in the call of litter clearing and to put it in the bin. First, it was relatively clean and not too dirty or wet, despite the weather and secondly it had not been there when I had managed to venture out very briefly earlier in the day, so had only fairly recently arrived!
Picking it up I looked at the writing and was drawn to the first word that followed a date – 7. 11. 81: Crimes, and there in front of me it became quickly apparent, was a list of crimes dated from November ’81 to April ’85. And then through a little bit of dirt in the middle of the page the word “homicide” jumped out. Closer examination revealed that the crime sheet contained minimal details – date, crime and names – of nine arrests for a total of six crimes: felony, possibly evading arrest / escaping from custody, forgery, raid and dealing (I guess stolen property - 3 villians!), theft and dealing (possibly a brother and sister) and the homicide.
And that, I’m afraid is where the trail goes cold; where it came from remains a mystery, it’s a little old I would have thought to be out of a passing policeman’s little black book, not that they pass very often, but then I guess if they wouldn’t need to if there had only been six crimes over a 3 ½ year period! My research to date, following up the dates, names etc, and unfortunately the one word I can’t really read on the piece of paper is Joe’s surname, has got nowhere, so it’s a case of “Watch this Space!” and maybe one day all will be revealed!!
The hunt is up, down, here, there and everywhere – Duck!
When we returned from the UK and turned off our quiet road and onto our yard, it was very early in the morning, still dark and something was wrong! We were not met with the blinding flash of the outside security light that usually picks up the car half way down yard. We hoped it was simply that the bulb had blown and not the main fuse that had tripped during a power cut of surge, as having been away for about a month the freezer could have been in a sorry state. We do however, have some good friends who live in the hamlet at the end of the avenue and were keeping an eye on things, including checking the electricity as there was work scheduled to be done on the supply whilst we were away.
So it was with relief that we opened up and found the lights and everything else working and indeed the house much as we had left it, although with that unlived-in slightly dampness that often prevails in houses that have been shut up for a while.
The next day, on removing the bulb, one end, it’s one of those long thin halogen style bulbs, came away in my hand, obviously the bulb was defunct! When we next went shopping we bought a new bulb and as always when buying bulbs in France marvelled at how expensive they are, that’s why whenever we return to England a nothing can get in the way visit, to a Wilkinson’s, there just don’t seem to be shops like this in our part of France and even those purporting to be discount shops often aren’t that cheap – except dear old Noz, a local seedy “end of line” free for all, with whatever happens to have come in recently into the enormous, and at the moment freezing hanger of a building, filling the shelves of whatever has recently sold out or been thrown away having collected too much dust or in the case of food stuff run out of date. They get everything, including Tesco rejects (we recently bought a couple of rolls of Tesco Value wrapping paper!), but you can never guarantee they will have what you want, but often you find something you must have and then it’s usually very cheap!! If we come up on the Lotto they even have a motor cruiser, worth well over €1,000,000, a snip at €850,000!! It’s not actually in the shop, but on a large poster by the cash desk, streaking across a very blue Mediterranean, that’s the sky as well as the water I hasten to add! Despite the chic appearance I may give of luxury items, it’s the sort of place you feel you need to wash your hands after sifting through the merchandise!!
But, you might be forgiven for thinking that the hunting mentioned in the title is about “bargain hunting,” but nothing of the sort, it’s more about that most manly of activities that is something of a national pastime, and certainly around here, although not I believe elsewhere in France, exclusively a manly pursuit, the woman being allowed to bring the food at lunchtime to the nearby barn used as a hunting lodge!! For fear of upsetting my feminist friends, I make no further comment!
But having got said bulb, come home and fitted it, and being daylight and needing the hand over the sensor to check it was working, all did not seem to be well, it wasn’t working, but as the light fitting was back together and access wasn’t very easy, I went for the easy option of waiting for night fall and then doing the walk test – which of course didn’t work either!! So, the next dry day, a few days later, I needed to investigate if we had been sold a dud bulb and if so work out the French for taking it back! But closer examination revealed that the bulb wasn’t sitting properly in the connectors and suddenly to dramatic effect sprang into light, becoming very bright even in the light of day and nearly toppling me off the chair I was standing on! And, before I get flooded with emails about Health and Safety, the proper way to change a light bulb, safe ladder usage, risk assessments etc. etc., this is France and if I fell off it was my fault, nobody else’s!!
Well, it was also suddenly very hot, not unfortunately a sudden heat wave, but rapidly heating halogen that made it very difficult with both the heat and blinding light to put back the fiddly glass front without being able to see and whilst burning my fingers!! So, with a blinding flash as it were, and a nostalgic thought about safe lone working, as Linda was somewhere else, I decided to trip the fuse whilst I sorted it out!! It certainly made it easier as I could see what I was doing, although as there was a chilly breeze I did miss the heat!! But job done, fuse reset and I came out of the cave (cellar) where the fuses are and turned the corner by the light just as there was the most almighty explosion, which initially I thought was mighty loud for a blowing light bulb, but as it was followed instantly by three or four more and accompanied by a loud rattling of lead shot on the roof of the house, that proceeded to roll noisily down the tiles and ping into the metal guttering, I realised I was under siege from the hunters in the walled garden behind the house.
With racing heart, I ducked quickly into the house, hoping that when the coast was clear perhaps together with the shot a duck or partridge might have dropped in for the pot!! Looking out of the back windows the hunters, accompanied by the local farmer went past, and they were certainly looking and pointing our way! There was never any sign of any supper, so they either missed or it was a case of “Les Anglais – ha ha!!”
The unhappy and the happy huntsmen
Once upon a time some days later, well the title does rather smack of a fairy tale!, there was a hunt in the park behind the large Chateau that seems to grow out of the lawn outside our back windows. The chateau is quite small but elegant – well proportioned you might say, and monsieur l’exploitant agricole (officially the French don’t use the word farmer!), or to be more precise agriculteur mixte, as he is both a céréalier et éleveur bovins (cereal and livestock farmer) – who said the French language was easy!! – was having one of his hunting parties. Part of the deal seems to be that for helping to maintain the estate the farmer has hunting rights, somewhat against Monsieur le Chateau’s principals as he is vegetarian, but out of sight out of mind and as he keeps reminding us when the cats away the mice will dance!
Well, they had been out for two or three hours, with lots of shouting, horn blowing and generally rushing about, and not just the dogs. Funnily enough as I said before the locals seem to be very sparing with their actual shots, preferring the social side of la chasse and only bagging the odd dead cert for the pot.
On this particular day I had decided it was safer to work in the garden than to wander in the woods, as despite not shooting much they do have large well oiled guns and I didn’t want to be on the small, but significant casualty list that was discussed recently in the French Paper, a very informative paper available across the whole of France, and I must say all the more appealing as it is written in English!! I know I should be struggling through Le Monde or Le Figaro, but the news would be so out of date by the time I got to the end, I wouldn’t feel suitably up to date and informed!!
Then, as often happened, there was a rush of dogs of all shapes and sizes, each hunter seeming to have several, along the road and always straight in through the open garden gate, obviously sensing something was there, but usually giving me little more than a casual look having run around me and decided I wasn’t a sanglier and running off again, noses on the ground ever hopeful for a more promising scent. The first time it was a little disconcerting, but they seemed happy enough with my slightly hesitant “Hello nice doggy!” in my best French of course – Bonjour, le chien beau, just in case you’re wondering, sounds better in French doesn’t it!! They were followed up the road by a fairly motley group of hunters, also in various shapes and sizes, and in the front actually looking quite resplendent in obviously brand new camouflaged hunting gear from head to toe was Alain the local fouchage man, who works hard keeping the village and the surroundings spick and span. I gave him a friendly greeting and received a friendly word back, but on enquiring if it had been a good hunt I got back a very terse and anglicised No! Further enquiries to the unhappy hunter, about what they had been hunting for today, informed me that today’s lucky prey had been partridges and pheasants and although they had put up a deer it had got away. As for hare, he seemed to tell me that it was the close season for them – perhaps they were still breeding?
The rest of the group trundled by, looking ready for a cup of coffee or something stronger, but mostly managing a reasonably cheery response to my greeting, and hobbling happily along at the rear was the old farmer who suffers badly with arthritis and walks quite slowly, but certainly it doesn’t stop him doing things, despite being long retired, after the winter storms we came across him, on his own, wielding a chain saw and chopping up some of the casualties from the gales!! However, when the family et al. recently re-roofed one of their barns, he was itching to get up on the roof and do his bit, but the sons banished him to a cage, sounds a bit harsh doesn’t it, but it was on the lift at the front of the tractor, they let him do the tiles around the edge without having to set foot on the roof!!
I got a very cheery greeting from him and when I commiserated with about the poor hunting, with a shrug, a roll of the eyes and a broad smile he said “Mais c'était une bonne marche en la nature!!” “But it was a good walk in the countryside!!” and strode, on as best he could, with his broad rather cheeky grin thinking perhaps that there was always next time! Then, just as I had finished this I had to pop out and as I was about to pull out into the road the hunters, this time in a grey car followed by two white vans were speeding up the road and there at the back, broadly grinning and waving frantically was none other than the aforementioned exploitant agricole!!
So what do we do all day?
You often hear people say that once they retired, they didn’t know how they found the time to go to work and it’s much the same with us and with no television we don’t even sit and watch the box day and night. This year’s Christmas missive touched on this, informing you that over the summer Linda became IT Technician and I became Official Photographer to Monsieur from Le Chateau, but more of that another time.
Linda, as well as some of the normal household chores, can often be found up to her elbows in the preserving pan, making the most amazing and extensive array of jams and chutneys and spends time on the scrounge for jars to put them all in, as we are constantly running out. Our cave now has one side with the drink and the other with the preserves – get locked in and you could be in a total pickle!! She has also worked very hard restoring a number of items of furniture that were looking quite jaded and now would grace the pages of Homes and Gardens!!
We both also garden, walk regularly, although on the longer ones Linda finds something else to do, she never was one for a good long walk, unless there was a reason – like a good pub at the end, she is also continuing to have some reoccurrences of her plantar fraciitis, a painful foot condition that flairs up from time to time. We also venture out about once a week to the shops (about 12 miles away) often combining this with a swim in the local pool, and in the summer go further afield for the odd picnic, vetting spots for the many visitors that are very welcome; gives me someone else to talk to, even though they keep us busy!! And then there’s the national sport of “bureaucracy bashing,” I thought India took the biscuit, usually in triplicate and repeated several times over to several people all doing the same job, but France – they want the crumbs as well, and each biscuit has a different name!!
As for me, there are the creative urges that have grown since moving here; writing, photography, singing again around the house but looking for opportunities to frighten the locals, doing lots of cooking particularly trying to perfect some of the wonderful French cuisine around us (visitors make great guinea pigs and usually seem to come back for more – one old boss who will remain nameless but is Welsh, even enjoyed a sauce so much she said she was going to lick the plate, and she did. Have you noticed how much standards slip when the British are on holiday!!), and I’ve taken to the odd bit of sculpture made mostly out of the natural things we discover around us. A bit of fun, not in the Henry Moore or Barbara Hepworth league just yet, but who knows, critical acclaim so far: “Thought provoking” “I was rendered speechless” “C_ _ p” “I’d say it was a piece of wood stuck on some dowel, but you may have made it!” And these are supposed to be my friends!! Mind you my No. 1 Critic, who being a Yorkshire girl doesn’t mince her words says they’re better than much she saw in the Tate Modern in St. Ives – mind you, you should hear what she says about those, certainly not repeatable for my sensitive readers. I’m working on a number of other Arty Projects at the moment – so watch this space!
Basically the time just goes and there’s never a dull moment!!
With apologies to the prudish amongst you - How can you tell a Great Tit?
The yard was a mass of birds, all shapes and sizes, with possibly a number of Great Tits (did I mention the birds were of the feathered variety), robins, chaffinches (a whole host of them that only the other day I had read were probably all single sex!) all swooping around and pecking in the shallow puddles. I suppose the wet weather had caused the ground to become saturated and forced the insects to the top as easy pickings.
But certainly one of the features around here is the wealth of bird life, including many of the smaller species that we so often hear are threatened and declining in numbers. It doesn’t seem to be the case in these parts and the birds sing all day, not just during the dawn chorus, and maybe early evening as seems to be the case back in the UK. At almost any time of the day and sometimes into the night, except on the very hottest of days when temperatures make any activity draining, we can go about our business, unmolested save for the barracking of the birds.
I was briefly reminded of when I used to walk down the High Street in Stroud and be regularly mobbed by flocks, or should that be cackles, of young birds!!
Oh, and the ornithologists amongst you – how do you tell a Great Tit from a Blue Tit? Answers without any mention of the current freezing cold spell, would be welcomed!
We had a vote!
We recently had an invitation to the AGM of the local Leisure Society, and in keeping with our plan to go to as many events as possible we decided to go, but gave each other strict instructions to keep our heads down and look at the floor when it came to the election of the committee, that came after the Bilan moral and Bilan financier, the first of which appeared to be the Chair’s report rather than anything to do with our ethical or honourable well-being!!
The reports were as always at breakneck speed, which made following them difficult, but we managed to pick up one or two things, particularly about events that we had attended as well as that the financial position wasn’t great, particularly as the clown for the children’s Christmas party, provided by an Art’s Group based in the commune, was likely to cost €800, and so now I’m waiting for a report on value for money and frantically polishing up the juggling and custard pie throwing, there’s obviously money in them there red noses!! Just found out he was very good and ONLY €500!
It was then time to vote for new committee members, so keeping our heads down we tried to hear what we had to do as this was to be a secret ballot!! The committee sitting at the front proceeded to tear up a sheet of paper into enough pieces so that we could each have a vote, these were passed around and taking instructions from the lady in front, who happens to be the chairman’s wife, we wrote the names of the four potential new committee members; Edith, Line, Valerie (one of our new English friends who speaks French very well) and Laurence. These pieces of paper were then collected and the number of times each person’s name appeared counted, recorded and all were duly elected. In our quest not to be noticed during the voting we had managed to help vote Laurence on to the committee and we didn’t even know who he was!! It even transpired some days later that in fact, Laurence wasn’t a “he” at all, but in fact a woman – it’s good to know that democracy is alive and well in rural France!!
Fortunately, the last item on the agenda Questions diverses, was short and not at all diverse, just one enquiry as to when the club de retraite was going to update its image with a name change to club de troisième âge? Unfortunately the chairman slightly misread the seriousness of the request by the small, rather severe lady, and an ugly scene nearly developed when the chair laughed it off, but had enough sense when he realised his mistake, to recover the situation, just in time!!
“Ici devant nous!”
Sorry for any arachnophobes amongst you but I’m going to continue on the theme of spiders. Whilst researching last month’s piece I happened upon an article about the small bodied, long legged harvester-type spiders, entitled “ARE THESE THE MOST VENEMOUS SPIDERS IN THE WORLD!!” Shock horror, as we share the house with a multitude of these, with several permanently resident in the “salle de bain,” yes the room with the shower where one’s most tender and normally covered bits are regularly exposed, just a short drop from the venomous fangs of the Pholeus phalangioides – cellar or daddy longlegs spider. But further research revealed, as luck would have it that a) possibly our eight legged lodgers aren’t said Pholcus phalangioides, but do bear an uncanny resemblance b) if they are, then they aren’t apparently the most venomous spiders in the world, although some researchers would say they come a close second to the likes of Brazilian Wandering Spiders or Black Widow Spiders that vie for first place, which may be little comfort should the fangs find a soft bit of flesh, but c) rumour has it that the fangs are too small and weak to be able to penetrate human flesh, even the most sensitive parts!! However, I’m now somewhat more careful when I try to get them to perform their defence strategy – blow on them gently and they drop a short way on their web and “twistle” around at breakneck speed to confuse the enemy, but there again they may just be trying to hypnotise you before dropping further onto some protuberance below!!
But don’t put off from visiting us as if you go on Wikipedia and follow the link from Pholcus phalangioides, it may all be an urban legend. There is also an interesting link to a MythBuster episode “Daddy Long-legs,” which almost has a “sting in the tail” as it were!!
My original “thought!” or two!
It happened one night, at the end of the summer in September when we were visiting Daniel! I had a dream and it was in French!! But, as with most dreams on waking up I could only remember the bare bones of the “story” and a strong feeling it was in French, however what I couldn’t remember was what the words were, or indeed whether they really were in French, “pigeon” or “double Dutch!!” They do say that when you start dreaming in French, you’re on the way to learning the lingo, so “s'agit-il d'ou devrai-je continuer à essayer?!” Réponses par courriel ou sur une carte postale s'il vous plaît!!**
And a second thought, on the theme of “being lucky!” When I went with the Archway School trip to India and we went Tiger “Hunting,” (spotting would perhaps be a better description), after several very long and hot cantor trips into the Ranthambore National Park we had managed to clock up a total of 4 sightings, 3 really good ones and 1 hard to see camouflaged beast. Well, the recent fantastic series of three programmes put on by the BBC called “Lost Land of the Tiger” reported several times that there are only an estimated 3000 wild tigers left in the world – and I’ve seen 4; how lucky is that!
Kind regards, Best Wishes and Love, Roger and Linda
And, next time? The next missive will probably come under the title of “Count our Blessings!” but there’s a twist!!
** For those busy souls without the time, knowledge or inclination: “Does this count or do I have to keep trying?!” Answers by email or on a postcard please!!
Mes chers amis
Did I ever tell you how lucky we are? ~ Missive 24
“Just tell yourself, Duckie, you're really quite lucky!”
Dr Seuss, American Writer and Cartoonist
“Name the greatest of all inventors: Accident.”Samuel Langhorne Clemens, better known as Mark Twain; Author and humorist.
The first of these quotes is from Dr Seuss’ small cartoon book entitled “Did I ever tell you how lucky you are,” about an unfortunate man who has to spend his life sitting on a cactus!! Yes I’ve pinched the title (nearly) for this missive, but it’s also a book that brings back happy memories of my early teaching career, and is worthy of mention here by way of celebration! Firstly, as luckily I have never had to spend my time sitting on a cactus, despite some prickly moments along the way, but more importantly as we reach with this missive a milestone; no not quite two years of missives (that’s next month!), no not finally being able to be retired early (that’s February), no the writing of this missive will take the grand total or words to over the 100,000 mark, or indeed a medium sized novel – so all of you who complain about the length of these monthly epistles, it’s only been like reading a book over the last 23 months, if you’re too busy for that you need to look at your work – life balance!!!
That 100,000 words is just the missives, there has been plenty of other writings along the way and with a quick bit of maths, works out at approximately 4348 words a month or nearly 145 words every day!! To put that into context or “column” space that’s a little less than the paragraph before this one!! Which neatly brings me back to the theme of “How Lucky we are,” firstly to have the time to spend writing these words and perhaps feeling that a small paragraph a day is an achievement!, but also to have had the experiences we have along the way to share with you, or the time to think about issues that we deem important and sometimes impart these to you!!
Indeed, rarely does a day go by when I don’t open the shutters, look at the view and having pinched myself, go on to realise just how lucky we are, and also how right we were to make what at the time was a very difficult, and in other people’s minds perhaps brave or even foolish, decision. But as my brother said at the time “Life isn’t a dress rehearsal, you only get one chance” and although maybe it hasn’t all gone too smoothly, certainly with some hiccups along the way, nearly two years down the line I’m glad we took the chance!
So I guess no apologies for this missive once again focussing on “the good life,” after all it could have been a seat on a cactus, and then I’m sure the tone of any missive I felt inclined to write would have been altogether more prickly!! And to put the record straight, the writing doesn’t tend to be just a short paragraph each day, no it comes in fits and starts, and I’m just starting this missive (which may run to over 4000 words) with just a couple of days to go until the end of the month deadline!, with lots of other things to fill the time in between. During the rest of the month there are obviously other snippets and ideas written down ready for the mad rush near to the deadline, often just scraps of paper with a hasty note, that are later shuffled into some semblance of order!
Also, I’d like to say that I write in some sort of writer’s garret, overlooking the open fields and chateau parkland that surround us, with clear views of the weather sweeping in and the stunning flora and fauna that abounds and features frequently in the missives. But unfortunately, initially it was quite literally on my laptop on my lap, but more recently spread out on the dining table and needing to be cleared off before we can eat – that explains any parts that suddenly seem disjointed in some way –dinner was ready!!, although this doesn’t happen too often, as much of the writing is done late at night or in the early hours of the morning – I’m still something of a night owl, made all the easier as getting up early in the morning isn’t necessary!
There’s been a murder – Watch this space!!
OK a little melodramatic, and maybe not the right sort of section for a missive on “Luckiness” as obviously the victim was far from lucky, but it did happen in 1984 and at the moment for us at least remains something of a mystery. How do we know, I hear you say and that’s the interesting and indeed mysterious bit!!
We have recently had a spell of very wet weather, not always particularly cold, but those damp, miserable days that seem never to get properly daylight, punctuated with heavy showers where the sky goes black and the wind builds and buffets the showers that sweep across the fields, better for us if they come from the south, we’re a little sheltered by the chateau and its avenues of trees. Days when it is difficult to get out of the house as by the time you have togged up after the last shower, another one is bearing down on you. The sort of weather there may well have been in February 1984, when Joe ..... was arrested for homicide, and again I hear the cry going up “But how do you know!”
Well, I’m coming to that shortly, but in good time! Having been cooped up in the house for too long, watching the clouds scudding across the sky and sensing that there just might be a bit of a break in the clouds and a chance to take the air and maybe a good opportunity to take some dramatic cloud shots as the next angry mass bore down on me. So off I go, coat “in case” and camera slung over my shoulder, over the terrace, across the yard and down the avenue in front of the freshly painted chateau gates, the brilliant white standing out starkly in front of the menacing black clouds that would soon be upon me, then there it was!
At this point it would be much more theatrical to say there in front of me was the body, the heavy rain having washed away the thin covering of soil from the hastily dug grave, but actually all that was there was a small piece of yellowed paper, lying by the side or the road covered in spidery French style handwriting, looking for all intent and purpose like someone’s discarded shopping list, blown on the wind to where I now found it. But two things were interesting that made me stop and pick it up, not simply in the call of litter clearing and to put it in the bin. First, it was relatively clean and not too dirty or wet, despite the weather and secondly it had not been there when I had managed to venture out very briefly earlier in the day, so had only fairly recently arrived!
Picking it up I looked at the writing and was drawn to the first word that followed a date – 7. 11. 81: Crimes, and there in front of me it became quickly apparent, was a list of crimes dated from November ’81 to April ’85. And then through a little bit of dirt in the middle of the page the word “homicide” jumped out. Closer examination revealed that the crime sheet contained minimal details – date, crime and names – of nine arrests for a total of six crimes: felony, possibly evading arrest / escaping from custody, forgery, raid and dealing (I guess stolen property - 3 villians!), theft and dealing (possibly a brother and sister) and the homicide.
And that, I’m afraid is where the trail goes cold; where it came from remains a mystery, it’s a little old I would have thought to be out of a passing policeman’s little black book, not that they pass very often, but then I guess if they wouldn’t need to if there had only been six crimes over a 3 ½ year period! My research to date, following up the dates, names etc, and unfortunately the one word I can’t really read on the piece of paper is Joe’s surname, has got nowhere, so it’s a case of “Watch this Space!” and maybe one day all will be revealed!!
The hunt is up, down, here, there and everywhere – Duck!
When we returned from the UK and turned off our quiet road and onto our yard, it was very early in the morning, still dark and something was wrong! We were not met with the blinding flash of the outside security light that usually picks up the car half way down yard. We hoped it was simply that the bulb had blown and not the main fuse that had tripped during a power cut of surge, as having been away for about a month the freezer could have been in a sorry state. We do however, have some good friends who live in the hamlet at the end of the avenue and were keeping an eye on things, including checking the electricity as there was work scheduled to be done on the supply whilst we were away.
So it was with relief that we opened up and found the lights and everything else working and indeed the house much as we had left it, although with that unlived-in slightly dampness that often prevails in houses that have been shut up for a while.
The next day, on removing the bulb, one end, it’s one of those long thin halogen style bulbs, came away in my hand, obviously the bulb was defunct! When we next went shopping we bought a new bulb and as always when buying bulbs in France marvelled at how expensive they are, that’s why whenever we return to England a nothing can get in the way visit, to a Wilkinson’s, there just don’t seem to be shops like this in our part of France and even those purporting to be discount shops often aren’t that cheap – except dear old Noz, a local seedy “end of line” free for all, with whatever happens to have come in recently into the enormous, and at the moment freezing hanger of a building, filling the shelves of whatever has recently sold out or been thrown away having collected too much dust or in the case of food stuff run out of date. They get everything, including Tesco rejects (we recently bought a couple of rolls of Tesco Value wrapping paper!), but you can never guarantee they will have what you want, but often you find something you must have and then it’s usually very cheap!! If we come up on the Lotto they even have a motor cruiser, worth well over €1,000,000, a snip at €850,000!! It’s not actually in the shop, but on a large poster by the cash desk, streaking across a very blue Mediterranean, that’s the sky as well as the water I hasten to add! Despite the chic appearance I may give of luxury items, it’s the sort of place you feel you need to wash your hands after sifting through the merchandise!!
But, you might be forgiven for thinking that the hunting mentioned in the title is about “bargain hunting,” but nothing of the sort, it’s more about that most manly of activities that is something of a national pastime, and certainly around here, although not I believe elsewhere in France, exclusively a manly pursuit, the woman being allowed to bring the food at lunchtime to the nearby barn used as a hunting lodge!! For fear of upsetting my feminist friends, I make no further comment!
But having got said bulb, come home and fitted it, and being daylight and needing the hand over the sensor to check it was working, all did not seem to be well, it wasn’t working, but as the light fitting was back together and access wasn’t very easy, I went for the easy option of waiting for night fall and then doing the walk test – which of course didn’t work either!! So, the next dry day, a few days later, I needed to investigate if we had been sold a dud bulb and if so work out the French for taking it back! But closer examination revealed that the bulb wasn’t sitting properly in the connectors and suddenly to dramatic effect sprang into light, becoming very bright even in the light of day and nearly toppling me off the chair I was standing on! And, before I get flooded with emails about Health and Safety, the proper way to change a light bulb, safe ladder usage, risk assessments etc. etc., this is France and if I fell off it was my fault, nobody else’s!!
Well, it was also suddenly very hot, not unfortunately a sudden heat wave, but rapidly heating halogen that made it very difficult with both the heat and blinding light to put back the fiddly glass front without being able to see and whilst burning my fingers!! So, with a blinding flash as it were, and a nostalgic thought about safe lone working, as Linda was somewhere else, I decided to trip the fuse whilst I sorted it out!! It certainly made it easier as I could see what I was doing, although as there was a chilly breeze I did miss the heat!! But job done, fuse reset and I came out of the cave (cellar) where the fuses are and turned the corner by the light just as there was the most almighty explosion, which initially I thought was mighty loud for a blowing light bulb, but as it was followed instantly by three or four more and accompanied by a loud rattling of lead shot on the roof of the house, that proceeded to roll noisily down the tiles and ping into the metal guttering, I realised I was under siege from the hunters in the walled garden behind the house.
With racing heart, I ducked quickly into the house, hoping that when the coast was clear perhaps together with the shot a duck or partridge might have dropped in for the pot!! Looking out of the back windows the hunters, accompanied by the local farmer went past, and they were certainly looking and pointing our way! There was never any sign of any supper, so they either missed or it was a case of “Les Anglais – ha ha!!”
The unhappy and the happy huntsmen
Once upon a time some days later, well the title does rather smack of a fairy tale!, there was a hunt in the park behind the large Chateau that seems to grow out of the lawn outside our back windows. The chateau is quite small but elegant – well proportioned you might say, and monsieur l’exploitant agricole (officially the French don’t use the word farmer!), or to be more precise agriculteur mixte, as he is both a céréalier et éleveur bovins (cereal and livestock farmer) – who said the French language was easy!! – was having one of his hunting parties. Part of the deal seems to be that for helping to maintain the estate the farmer has hunting rights, somewhat against Monsieur le Chateau’s principals as he is vegetarian, but out of sight out of mind and as he keeps reminding us when the cats away the mice will dance!
Well, they had been out for two or three hours, with lots of shouting, horn blowing and generally rushing about, and not just the dogs. Funnily enough as I said before the locals seem to be very sparing with their actual shots, preferring the social side of la chasse and only bagging the odd dead cert for the pot.
On this particular day I had decided it was safer to work in the garden than to wander in the woods, as despite not shooting much they do have large well oiled guns and I didn’t want to be on the small, but significant casualty list that was discussed recently in the French Paper, a very informative paper available across the whole of France, and I must say all the more appealing as it is written in English!! I know I should be struggling through Le Monde or Le Figaro, but the news would be so out of date by the time I got to the end, I wouldn’t feel suitably up to date and informed!!
Then, as often happened, there was a rush of dogs of all shapes and sizes, each hunter seeming to have several, along the road and always straight in through the open garden gate, obviously sensing something was there, but usually giving me little more than a casual look having run around me and decided I wasn’t a sanglier and running off again, noses on the ground ever hopeful for a more promising scent. The first time it was a little disconcerting, but they seemed happy enough with my slightly hesitant “Hello nice doggy!” in my best French of course – Bonjour, le chien beau, just in case you’re wondering, sounds better in French doesn’t it!! They were followed up the road by a fairly motley group of hunters, also in various shapes and sizes, and in the front actually looking quite resplendent in obviously brand new camouflaged hunting gear from head to toe was Alain the local fouchage man, who works hard keeping the village and the surroundings spick and span. I gave him a friendly greeting and received a friendly word back, but on enquiring if it had been a good hunt I got back a very terse and anglicised No! Further enquiries to the unhappy hunter, about what they had been hunting for today, informed me that today’s lucky prey had been partridges and pheasants and although they had put up a deer it had got away. As for hare, he seemed to tell me that it was the close season for them – perhaps they were still breeding?
The rest of the group trundled by, looking ready for a cup of coffee or something stronger, but mostly managing a reasonably cheery response to my greeting, and hobbling happily along at the rear was the old farmer who suffers badly with arthritis and walks quite slowly, but certainly it doesn’t stop him doing things, despite being long retired, after the winter storms we came across him, on his own, wielding a chain saw and chopping up some of the casualties from the gales!! However, when the family et al. recently re-roofed one of their barns, he was itching to get up on the roof and do his bit, but the sons banished him to a cage, sounds a bit harsh doesn’t it, but it was on the lift at the front of the tractor, they let him do the tiles around the edge without having to set foot on the roof!!
I got a very cheery greeting from him and when I commiserated with about the poor hunting, with a shrug, a roll of the eyes and a broad smile he said “Mais c'était une bonne marche en la nature!!” “But it was a good walk in the countryside!!” and strode, on as best he could, with his broad rather cheeky grin thinking perhaps that there was always next time! Then, just as I had finished this I had to pop out and as I was about to pull out into the road the hunters, this time in a grey car followed by two white vans were speeding up the road and there at the back, broadly grinning and waving frantically was none other than the aforementioned exploitant agricole!!
So what do we do all day?
You often hear people say that once they retired, they didn’t know how they found the time to go to work and it’s much the same with us and with no television we don’t even sit and watch the box day and night. This year’s Christmas missive touched on this, informing you that over the summer Linda became IT Technician and I became Official Photographer to Monsieur from Le Chateau, but more of that another time.
Linda, as well as some of the normal household chores, can often be found up to her elbows in the preserving pan, making the most amazing and extensive array of jams and chutneys and spends time on the scrounge for jars to put them all in, as we are constantly running out. Our cave now has one side with the drink and the other with the preserves – get locked in and you could be in a total pickle!! She has also worked very hard restoring a number of items of furniture that were looking quite jaded and now would grace the pages of Homes and Gardens!!
We both also garden, walk regularly, although on the longer ones Linda finds something else to do, she never was one for a good long walk, unless there was a reason – like a good pub at the end, she is also continuing to have some reoccurrences of her plantar fraciitis, a painful foot condition that flairs up from time to time. We also venture out about once a week to the shops (about 12 miles away) often combining this with a swim in the local pool, and in the summer go further afield for the odd picnic, vetting spots for the many visitors that are very welcome; gives me someone else to talk to, even though they keep us busy!! And then there’s the national sport of “bureaucracy bashing,” I thought India took the biscuit, usually in triplicate and repeated several times over to several people all doing the same job, but France – they want the crumbs as well, and each biscuit has a different name!!
As for me, there are the creative urges that have grown since moving here; writing, photography, singing again around the house but looking for opportunities to frighten the locals, doing lots of cooking particularly trying to perfect some of the wonderful French cuisine around us (visitors make great guinea pigs and usually seem to come back for more – one old boss who will remain nameless but is Welsh, even enjoyed a sauce so much she said she was going to lick the plate, and she did. Have you noticed how much standards slip when the British are on holiday!!), and I’ve taken to the odd bit of sculpture made mostly out of the natural things we discover around us. A bit of fun, not in the Henry Moore or Barbara Hepworth league just yet, but who knows, critical acclaim so far: “Thought provoking” “I was rendered speechless” “C_ _ p” “I’d say it was a piece of wood stuck on some dowel, but you may have made it!” And these are supposed to be my friends!! Mind you my No. 1 Critic, who being a Yorkshire girl doesn’t mince her words says they’re better than much she saw in the Tate Modern in St. Ives – mind you, you should hear what she says about those, certainly not repeatable for my sensitive readers. I’m working on a number of other Arty Projects at the moment – so watch this space!
Basically the time just goes and there’s never a dull moment!!
With apologies to the prudish amongst you - How can you tell a Great Tit?
The yard was a mass of birds, all shapes and sizes, with possibly a number of Great Tits (did I mention the birds were of the feathered variety), robins, chaffinches (a whole host of them that only the other day I had read were probably all single sex!) all swooping around and pecking in the shallow puddles. I suppose the wet weather had caused the ground to become saturated and forced the insects to the top as easy pickings.
But certainly one of the features around here is the wealth of bird life, including many of the smaller species that we so often hear are threatened and declining in numbers. It doesn’t seem to be the case in these parts and the birds sing all day, not just during the dawn chorus, and maybe early evening as seems to be the case back in the UK. At almost any time of the day and sometimes into the night, except on the very hottest of days when temperatures make any activity draining, we can go about our business, unmolested save for the barracking of the birds.
I was briefly reminded of when I used to walk down the High Street in Stroud and be regularly mobbed by flocks, or should that be cackles, of young birds!!
Oh, and the ornithologists amongst you – how do you tell a Great Tit from a Blue Tit? Answers without any mention of the current freezing cold spell, would be welcomed!
We had a vote!
We recently had an invitation to the AGM of the local Leisure Society, and in keeping with our plan to go to as many events as possible we decided to go, but gave each other strict instructions to keep our heads down and look at the floor when it came to the election of the committee, that came after the Bilan moral and Bilan financier, the first of which appeared to be the Chair’s report rather than anything to do with our ethical or honourable well-being!!
The reports were as always at breakneck speed, which made following them difficult, but we managed to pick up one or two things, particularly about events that we had attended as well as that the financial position wasn’t great, particularly as the clown for the children’s Christmas party, provided by an Art’s Group based in the commune, was likely to cost €800, and so now I’m waiting for a report on value for money and frantically polishing up the juggling and custard pie throwing, there’s obviously money in them there red noses!! Just found out he was very good and ONLY €500!
It was then time to vote for new committee members, so keeping our heads down we tried to hear what we had to do as this was to be a secret ballot!! The committee sitting at the front proceeded to tear up a sheet of paper into enough pieces so that we could each have a vote, these were passed around and taking instructions from the lady in front, who happens to be the chairman’s wife, we wrote the names of the four potential new committee members; Edith, Line, Valerie (one of our new English friends who speaks French very well) and Laurence. These pieces of paper were then collected and the number of times each person’s name appeared counted, recorded and all were duly elected. In our quest not to be noticed during the voting we had managed to help vote Laurence on to the committee and we didn’t even know who he was!! It even transpired some days later that in fact, Laurence wasn’t a “he” at all, but in fact a woman – it’s good to know that democracy is alive and well in rural France!!
Fortunately, the last item on the agenda Questions diverses, was short and not at all diverse, just one enquiry as to when the club de retraite was going to update its image with a name change to club de troisième âge? Unfortunately the chairman slightly misread the seriousness of the request by the small, rather severe lady, and an ugly scene nearly developed when the chair laughed it off, but had enough sense when he realised his mistake, to recover the situation, just in time!!
“Ici devant nous!”
Sorry for any arachnophobes amongst you but I’m going to continue on the theme of spiders. Whilst researching last month’s piece I happened upon an article about the small bodied, long legged harvester-type spiders, entitled “ARE THESE THE MOST VENEMOUS SPIDERS IN THE WORLD!!” Shock horror, as we share the house with a multitude of these, with several permanently resident in the “salle de bain,” yes the room with the shower where one’s most tender and normally covered bits are regularly exposed, just a short drop from the venomous fangs of the Pholeus phalangioides – cellar or daddy longlegs spider. But further research revealed, as luck would have it that a) possibly our eight legged lodgers aren’t said Pholcus phalangioides, but do bear an uncanny resemblance b) if they are, then they aren’t apparently the most venomous spiders in the world, although some researchers would say they come a close second to the likes of Brazilian Wandering Spiders or Black Widow Spiders that vie for first place, which may be little comfort should the fangs find a soft bit of flesh, but c) rumour has it that the fangs are too small and weak to be able to penetrate human flesh, even the most sensitive parts!! However, I’m now somewhat more careful when I try to get them to perform their defence strategy – blow on them gently and they drop a short way on their web and “twistle” around at breakneck speed to confuse the enemy, but there again they may just be trying to hypnotise you before dropping further onto some protuberance below!!
But don’t put off from visiting us as if you go on Wikipedia and follow the link from Pholcus phalangioides, it may all be an urban legend. There is also an interesting link to a MythBuster episode “Daddy Long-legs,” which almost has a “sting in the tail” as it were!!
My original “thought!” or two!
It happened one night, at the end of the summer in September when we were visiting Daniel! I had a dream and it was in French!! But, as with most dreams on waking up I could only remember the bare bones of the “story” and a strong feeling it was in French, however what I couldn’t remember was what the words were, or indeed whether they really were in French, “pigeon” or “double Dutch!!” They do say that when you start dreaming in French, you’re on the way to learning the lingo, so “s'agit-il d'ou devrai-je continuer à essayer?!” Réponses par courriel ou sur une carte postale s'il vous plaît!!**
And a second thought, on the theme of “being lucky!” When I went with the Archway School trip to India and we went Tiger “Hunting,” (spotting would perhaps be a better description), after several very long and hot cantor trips into the Ranthambore National Park we had managed to clock up a total of 4 sightings, 3 really good ones and 1 hard to see camouflaged beast. Well, the recent fantastic series of three programmes put on by the BBC called “Lost Land of the Tiger” reported several times that there are only an estimated 3000 wild tigers left in the world – and I’ve seen 4; how lucky is that!
Kind regards, Best Wishes and Love, Roger and Linda
And, next time? The next missive will probably come under the title of “Count our Blessings!” but there’s a twist!!
** For those busy souls without the time, knowledge or inclination: “Does this count or do I have to keep trying?!” Answers by email or on a postcard please!!
Monday, November 15, 2010
Magic Mushrooms ~ Video
A musical fungus foray, to give you a "flavour" of the amazing variety of "Champignons" we have all around us. Many we're told are "bon comestible" but unfortunately often bear an uncanny resemblance to others that are "tres toxique" or even "mortel!," and as the nearest "Centre Antipoison" is at Angers - over 150 km (nearly 100 miles) away and at least one and a half hours drive the "flavour" will have to remain in the viewing!!!
Click on the link below and you will quickly play a small version of the video. However, to enjoy it at its best, click Download above the video screen and either OPEN or SAVE and be patient!! I promise you it is worth the wait!
https://cid-42bedc71a8702824.photos.live.com/self.aspx/Magic%20Mushrooms/My%20Movie.wmv
Click on the link below and you will quickly play a small version of the video. However, to enjoy it at its best, click Download above the video screen and either OPEN or SAVE and be patient!! I promise you it is worth the wait!
https://cid-42bedc71a8702824.photos.live.com/self.aspx/Magic%20Mushrooms/My%20Movie.wmv
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