Bit of a catch up

I haven't blogged since 2012 and it is now 2016 but that is no excuse not to restart! Life hasn't really changed all that much - except that the children are grown up - Fenella is 21 and Gus is 19 and they are both at Poitiers University and living in Poitiers. Harriet is in Première at Lycée and Freddy is in his final year of collège, and doing his Brevet this summer. Pippa has sent me lovely notebooks and is always encouraging me to write my story but it is hard to find the time or the inclination so I thought this might be a good solution. We have had a very wet and rather mild winter this year but now 14 days of sunshine are forecast. At the beginning of November 2015 I had a massive car crash: someone crashed into me on the N147 head on - nobody knows why he was driving on the wrong side of the road and I didn't see him till it was too late because we went into each other on the brow of a hill. I just saw him at the last minute and manged to swerve slightly right towards the verge, which probably saved both our lives. There were a couple of witnesses, thank heavens, who called the pompiers. It took them three hours to cut me out of the wreckage and then they took me to Urgences where I stayed all night. It's nearly a year ago now and I was off my head on various concoctions so I can't remember much about it; I do remember being really thirsty and asking for a drink but they couldn't give me a drink in case I needed an operation and had to have a general anesthetic so they had some swabs - the equivalent of a cotton bud soaked in water which they wiped around my mouth. This went on for nearly 48 hours and my most powerful memory of that time is the incredible thirst and thinking when will they operate so I can have a drink of water.. Well, in the event they didn't take me down for the operation (to try and fix a broken arm) until late Wednesday afternoon, And when they brought me back to my hospital room they still wouldn't let me have a glass of water for three hours!. I stayed in hospital for eleven days -I don't remember all that much about it now (I have let a year go by without writing about it! ) Fenella was marvelous as she was in Poitiers and came and just sat with me quite a lot  I am still so grateful to her as I felt that she really had a very good understanding of what I needed at that time. Anyway, here we are on November 21st a year later and  my arm is still not mended. In fact, it is more painful at the moment than it has been all along; it stings (not constantly but in twinges)  and I don't have a very good range of movement. I'm going to start 1:1 yoga with our new friend Lucy as my whole body feels like it is getting very old. My hips and lower back hurt most of the time and my knees still don't feel right, although that is the nerves near the skin that aren't properly mended yet.

The other thing that I've been meaning to get around to this year is to paint. I've always wanted to be an artist, although this was drummed out of me at New Hall - what a terrible school that was looking back. They made me feel useless at everything - perhaps that was just the times but I don't remember ever feeling that there was something I was good at! I always felt like a weirdo, although I did make some good friends there. I was very happy there and we had some wonderful times building a really great den in the field inside a blackberry bush which kept us amused every weekend until we went into the sixth form I think, when ze began to find it more amusing to get drunk. Anyway, oh, this bath is so hot, I'm sweating and I think I should wash myself and get up. Well, I'm still in the bath, sitting here with my Aussie three minute miracle on my hair, but it's  not practical as my specs keep fogging up. Anyway, I must get up as I've got so much I want to do today: take the dogs for a walk; paint a picture for my mother's birthday card, make a spinach lasagne for supper, trim the lavender for the winter and go and visit my lovely friend Sam Bird. It is already 10.39 and I'm still Sitting in the bath with my winter remedy on my head. I must go more later.

We are the insurgents now

Oh, I had something to write this morning and now I've forgotten what it was. Story of my life! Pippa told me to write about life in France with the threat of Brexit hanging over us. I'm still hoping that it won't happen and every so often someone pops up with a really sensible argument why we shouldn't go through with it. This morning it was Tony Blair saying that we should not invoke Article 50 in a hurry as we have no idea what lies on the other side - what happens to our economy? He said it is important that the views of the 16 million people who voted to remain should not be ignored.

Further to my earlier Swiss blog, which I fear I never wrote, we returned to Switzerland to see the ballet about my grandmother this weekend. The ballet was superb. Unfortunately, the car died. Well, it did have over 300,000 miles on the clock and obvio the trip up the mountain was too much for it. It is so lovely to be home, I have to go to bed now

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!