My mum is still very ill

I saw my gorgeous mum today and spent a couple of hours there. She feels sick all the time and so doesn't feel like eating (also says hospital food - YUK!). She's very weak and needs to eat and she told me that the surgeon asked her what her favorite food is, to which she replied onion soup, and spinach whereupon he went out and bought it for her from the local french restaurant! What a charming man he sounds. She said it was very dry and the onion soup wasn't proper.

My journey from Stansted last night was riddled with annoyances. Firstly, my train ticket, which I had booked the night before on thetrainline.com, failed to materialise (no information available) so I had to re-buy my ticket; I arrived puffing on the platform as the guard (I expect they're not called guards anymore) blew his whistle so I jumped on the train in a panic. How I cursed to see the Stansted Express whistle past us a few minutes later. The train I was on stopped at every single station and about an hour later deposited me in Stratford (East London, not Shakespeare's, happily). Aiming for Paddington to get the train to Maidenhead, I got the next central line train heading for Ealing Broadway. Quite a lot of the Maidenhead trains stop at Ealing Broadway, so I spent a large part of the journey between Stratford and Queensway debating whether to change at Notting Hill Gate (for Paddington) or risk it and go straight to Ealing Broadway. As it turned out that would have been a good decision as the district and circle lines weren't playing due to planned engineering work, and I ended up getting the next Ealing Broadway train onwards. However, due to this little escapade I missed the train I should have got at Ealing Broadway by 5 minutes. Still, it wasn't too bad as I only had to wait another 10 minutes or so till the next one came along and I got to Dolphin Cottage by 9.00.

My mum is gorgeous

and is in intensive care in the Royal Brompton Hospital having had open heart surgery. So I have just booked myself a flight to go to England in two weeks time to take over the care of my father and with a bit of luck, also my mother, if she is out of hospital at that stage. My sister, Katy, is there at the moment, coping with my father's quirks without complaint, and looking on the bright side at every turn.

Success!

Hurray, the whole thing went much more smoothly than I could have hoped. The notaire explained in stilted English that the septic tank, although it didn't conform to current standards, works fine and would continue to do so for several years and no enforcement would be seen of the clause that it should be replaced within 12 months. I had already explained this to the buyer, but naturally the notaire repeating it carries a whole lot more authority.

So yip yip yipee! Weight lifted. Ulcer gone.

Worries

Most of the time, the work we do as estate agents is great fun. However, like anything in life there are times when you are faced with a dilemma; no, dilemma is too mild a word; something that keeps you awake at night and makes you feel sick and headachey all day. The worst feeling is that you are letting someone down, and the sale I have today is the worst case of letting down my buyers I have ever had, resulting in two weeks of sleeplessness for me, constant stomach churning worry that makes me unsure whether I am hungry or feel sick and blinding headaches.

I have a philosophy not to worry - it doesn't help anyone, but how can you control your emotions if something is worrying you? Anyway, all this will come to a head today as we all go to the Notaire's to sign the Acte, or possibly not. Working with people and not knowing how they are going to respond is what makes it scary, but also what makes it fun and interesting in other situations.

Well, I've got to get on with it now, but I'll post again later to let you know how it went.

Aargh, wish me luck!

Birthdays and Parties

I really am a wicked mother. Freddy is in the process of having his 10th birthday party and I haven't prepared at all - that is to say, I have just made a malteser cake, and after the guests arrived I cut up some fruit for the inevitable chocolate fountain. We bought this a few years ago in a moment of chocoholic fantasy madness, and it is unearthed consistently for every birthday party, much to my chagrin as it is the most difficult thing in the world to wash up. I have a horror of the boys' birthday parties ever since Gus's sixth birthday party in Stroud, when as soon as the boys discovered that there weren't sweets between every layer of the pass the parcel, refused to sit nicely in a circle and started vociferously wrestling and breaking stuff.

The kids parties when we lived in Altrincham (late 1990s) were much more thought out and ordered affairs, involving huge amounts of preparation if you didn't want to spend a fortune. Prepared pass the parcel(with a prize in every layer) and the usual games, hugely show-offy complicated cakes, and consciously not too unhealthy teas. I remember one party when I made a complicated treasure hunt where each child had to find the contents of their going home party bag, colour coded, as they were too young to read, which I had previously hidden all around the house. Party bags are an interesting issue as well: it seemed to get more and more competitive in Altrincham, other mothers spending a small fortune filling the bags with crazy gadgets and games. Not only could we not afford to compete, but I didn't approve, so had to be a bit creative. We were once at a cousin's party in Bristol where the lack of party bags caused major upset and tantrums (evidently my sister-in-law did not approve of party bags either).


I have to say that since we moved to France, birthday parties are a lot easier. French children are still happy just to charge around outside and then stoke up on an array of biscuits and sweets, and they are obedient. Today they came in and started eating before I was ready, and when I told them to go back outside and play, they did, immediately and without question.

At five o'clock I had to go and pick up Gus from football, and I heard the beginning of Weekend Women's Hour which, by coincidence was discussing how there is nothing as excruciating as children's birthday parties, and although my initial thought was 'How apt', I actually felt quite smug that this one seemed to be going well. When I got back the boys were all still quite happy, and apart from a minor incident of one of our chickens apparently terrorising a big boy, the whole thing seemed to be a success. All the credit really goes to Harriet, who organised them and bossed them around in much better French than mine.

Back to work

La belle mère has left this morning and Toby is off to Harrogate tomorrow for The France Show, so for me it is time to really get down to work and look after my vendors and buyers and get some new houses on line.

I'm very excited about work this month so I must get on with it. I'll blog more later.

April showers, a royal wedding and life goes on

We are in desperate need of some rain. We haven't had any rain of significance for well over a month and as today is 30th April; so where are the April showers? Although this has meant that we have had a glorious spring which I really can't complain about, the potatoes, onions and, in fact, the entire contents of the kitchen garden is struggling a bit. Lakes have dried up all over the region and there is a dearth of water everywhere.

The Royal Wedding was yesterday. We sat through it as MIL is here and didn't want to miss it, and I think the children enjoyed it. Personally, I found it hard to get excited, although they do seem a charming couple. All the fashion-conscious people were wearing these inane hats called 'Fascinators', IMO they look really daft and are neither complimentary nor complementary. Posh, for example, was in an air stewardess hat from the 1970's stuck with superglue to her forehead.

Anyway, what do I know? I've never had much interest in fashion - more interested in country bumpkin ways and, like my neighbours, in how the tomatoes are doing!

The lovely Easter holidays come to an end tomorrow and it's back to early rising on Monday - which is good. Need to go to bed earlier too.

March 2011

This is going well isn't it? I'm supposed to write every day and that has been an eight month gap!

I'm in London at the moment spending a bit of time with my lovely friend Alfie who I have been friends with for 33 years! crikey, that just ages us! Came over to work on the Leggett Stand at the A Place in the Sun exhibtion which was on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and today we went shopping in Primark. Fly back tomorrow.