Pour le poisson, c’est necessaire la rivière,

or indeed ...... Se prendre le chou

Paul our neighbour teased me the other day when I was sitting out at the front cleaning some window fittings to recycle them.  No, it wasn’t the recycling, it wasn’t the fact that as soon as the sun shines, we’re outside eating often when the locals are done up in hats, scarves and thick jumpers and it wasn’t the knobbly knees we expose when we sit outside in the sunshine dining al fresco, or as Paul et al think al arctic!  But I was hurt and somewhat taken not only aback but also by surprise, although it made a change from the normal greetings and exchanges about the weather – yes I know stereotypically it’s the English who talk about nothing but the weather, but with the French, particularly in rural farming communities, it seems quite a popular topic of conversation and has certainly helped us to get away from simple hellos and good-byes!

No, I was sitting outside scrapping the old paint off these window fittings, admittedly wrapped up in an extra fleece as it was quite early and the bright sunshine still had not got much warmth in it, so quite prepared for a cheery hello, isn’t the wind cold today and to think a couple of weeks ago you could sit outside for dejeuner et dinner!, well if you can’t beat them laugh with them!!  When Paul suddenly pointed at our remorque (trailer) which is currently parked on the terrace at the front of the house as we have started the long haul of clearing Roger’s Retreat, our thousand square metres of virgin jungle, well at least head high and higher brambles and wild roses with the biggest thorns I have ever encountered and ever had to remove from various parts of my anatomy.  When you take a slasher, the correct and recognised (except by google spell check!) term for a long handled billhook-like implement, which is fantastic for bramble bashing from a far, when the brambles and wild roses have grown rampant and unchecked for many a year and are several metres long, they have a nasty habit of creeping up behind you and going for the posterior!

But, back to the remorque, having heard a number of recent stories about a growing number of thefts of garden implements such as débroussailleuses (brushcutters) and tronçonneuses (chain saws) – French gardening can be somewhat difficult and I mean the language not the digging, planting and weeding (creusement, plantation et le désherbage)!!, I decided that like French men the world over, well certainly in France, I would be bereft and totally at a loss if my trailer were to go missing!  I suppose it would save lots of work as we wouldn’t have to keep going backwards and forwards to the déchetterie or tip!, but no doubt we would end up borrowing a friends or using the insurance money to replace it, both causing more hassle than simply safeguarding our present trailer.  Consequently, I had it chained to a substantial post with a heavy duty lock and chain, and it was this that was causing the mirth and merriment than I was taking so personally!!  Here perhaps I should explain that Paul has extensive sheds and outhouses along the track from their house all open fronted and full of tools, although the more expensive items such as the débroussailleuse are locked away at night even if often lying around in various parts of the smallholding during the day.  He found it quite hilarious that I had locked up the trailer and I suppose that as trailers (and little white vans) are really extensions of the male assemblage and as such untouchable by other males perhaps it was a little over the top.  In a weak and perhaps unpatriotic (albeit true) attempt to save face I said that it was necessary in Angleterre, to which I think he responded and I possibly concurred that England is full of thieving ... voleurs.  I would have gone on and blamed the recession, the government, the media, unemployment, the breakdown of society and family values – indeed the “big” lack of “society” and also corrected his misconception that everyone in England is a thieving voleur (actually it doesn’t mean what some of you are no doubt thinking, it means robber!!), but at this point overcome by his cruel onslaught and feeling very distressed, my French vocab let me down!!!!

However, not one to hold a grudge, a couple of days later, I saw Paul walking up the track outside his outbuildings carrying his fishing rod, which he proceeded to cast along the track and to play with the line.  I think the visitors we had for tea were somewhat bemused when I said I needed to go and put Paul right, they know just how limited my French remains!  But, I quickly strode across to where he was fishing and called his name; he turned around perhaps surprised at my boldness at instigating a conversation when there was little “weather” to comment on, at which point I simply said “Paul, pour le poisson, c’est nécessaire la rivière” indicating the distant water course at the bottom of the hill!  Fortunately, he understood and turned around with the twinkle that is usually evident in his eye and answered with a bemused “Oh, really!”

I returned to our terrace and after having discretely punched and air and uttered “touché,” I then had to explain my bizarre behaviour to our tea drinking visitors, but at least felt a certain amount of honour was restored!!

Oh, and se prendre le chou (taking the cabbage) along the lines of taking the mickey, which I read in Connexions, an English language French newspaper, the day after this was written!!   In this article it explains that being a race of jardiniers, each with their amazing potagers, and as the article says “many everyday expressions have their roots in the vegetable plot(!)” , there’s even a new book by Julie Amerlynck called Phraséologie Potogère – Vegetable Phraseology!