Hungry bird of prey

Having spent probably half an hour hiding behind a heap of hedge cuttings, listening to our garden shrew rustling in the ivy and waiting for her (French word for shrew is feminine, so she's a she) to emerge into the open, the snap below is all I have to show for my efforts. A shrew's behind. The rear of a shrew. If I were a bird of prey, I'd be a hungry one.

Now that I (and, more importantly, the camera) have come back indoors, the little so-and-so is very probably busy frolicking the sun. Pah!

Still, I am quite pleased to have a shrew in the garden. I have even suspended my vegetable patch extension works for fear of having disturbed its nest. Having a shrew (or shrews) in the garden makes one feel virtuous. Why, I have a wildlife-friendly garden. No, it's not just that I have let that bit along by the hedge get a bit overgrown and all untidy. It's wildlife-friendly don't you see? Plus they will hopefully keep the slug population down. And hopefully not be eaten by the local owl.

Where the hell have I been?

I've certainly not been on Blogger. I've been faffing around on FB and Twitter. I've been down south. I've been away with work. I've been to the farm. I've been on a narrowboat. But I'm going to give this old blog some long overdue attention. Soon.

How can it be?

I just don't get it. There is no plausible, possible explanation. It beggars belief. I cannae understand it at aw'.

I must, in advance, ask for your indulgence on the nerdy nature of this post, but I really have to put this out to the floor, as it were, and see if anyone, somewhere, can help me figure it out.

As you may remember, our trip to Scotland at Christmas coincided quite fortuitously with a record low in the GBP/EUR exchange rate, so we took full advantage of being rich and spent our euro-pounds in a mad supermarket sweep at Sainsbury's. We bought paracetamol for 23p, parsnips for 50p, and Persil Small & Mighty (known as Skip in France) for about £7. And some other stuff but I can't be expected to remember it all can I? I was truly astonished at how much cheaper some "global" brand goods were in the UK. Even taking the exchange rate into account, French euro prices were looking like an utter piss-take on us put-upon consumers. Even the dog's Pedigree biscuits were cheaper!

So anyway, our bumper pack of Persil has finally run out (why is it all the bottles of laundry detergent all run out at once - bog-standard, wool-care and colour-care all empty!). So picked up some at the supermarché today. And it cost the princely sum of €7.44! I'm livid. 7 quid for 750ml. And how much is a 1.5l bottle from Asda?! FOUR pounds, my friend.

So I'm hoping someone can help me to get my (admittedly sometimes quite blonde) head around this seemingly inexplicable and rather enormous difference in price. Is there some sort of special extra VAT on laundry detergent in France that I'm unaware of? Does it cost very very very much money to print the packaging in French? Or are consumers in France just being utterly and completely ripped off?

How long has this been going on?

This week I made a long overdue visit to Next's website. Was intending to pick out a couple of tops and maybe jeans that Mum could bring over for me next month. But, what's this on the page footer? What are these flags of various EU countries? Could it be? Yes it is. Oh joy! Next deliver to France!

It's very sad, I do realise, that something so frivolous should bring about such glee, but clothes retailers in France are shite. Choose from cheap H&M fashion, or unaffordable couture chic. There really doesn't seem to be a middle-of-the-road option. Now I can indulge my retail habit from exile. Yay. Of course, spending money on Next online means less to spend on Pink shirts and Carvela shoes in Edinburgh, but hey.

In other news:
The small car passed its MOT, as I was expecting but much to doubting Hubby's surprise. Apparently there's a little bit of play in one of the shock absorbers. I said to the guy, "well, they've never been changed, so...". He was so surprised he even said to the mechanic, "look at this! 186,600 km and never changed the shocks!" Yes, Mr Man, that's because I slow down over speed bumps.

We went to the DIY store to buy salt for the water softening whatsit. Expensive salt: we paid €113!! Because Hubby said I could have some plants for the garden. [Grin] Bought plum tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, some flowers, some wooden edging things for the bit next to the raspberry canes that I would like to turn into a vegetable patch... And some other stuff.

We've chosen our translation management server system and work, and the techy issues that were looking dodgy have been or are currently being resolved. Now the fun starts, with pre-project workflow analysis, settings definition, installation, deployment, training and change management!

Hubby is away playing shoot'em up PC games all weekend. I'm hoping the rain stays away so I can grub in the mud and take Doggy for W's. If it doesn't, I have plenty ironing to keep me busy.

There's one, set for stun

While having a web break the other day, I happened upon this entertaining little story. And it reminded me of a most entertaining joke that did the rounds on email a good few years ago (like, ten or so!!). So I asked Google to find me the aforementioned comical text so that I could share it here with you all. Please note that, unfortunately, some of the funniness is lost if you have never lived in Scotland/don't know any Scots/have never heard a Weegie speaking their native language. But it's still pretty funny.

If Star Wars Was Set In Glasgow

Chewbacca would look roughly the same except he'd only be about 5ft tall, from Blackhill and called Shug. He'd have the same amount of body hair but would also have tattoos, would permanently smell of drink and invariably sport a Rangers top.

Obi-Wan Kenobi would invariably be referred to as Chief or Big Yin by his cohorts. People trying to start a fight with him would address him as Wanky-Nobby.

Darth Vader would referred to as 'Auld Helmet Heid' or in moments of stress 'That Dome-Heided Basturd'

R2D2 would refuse to go out on the streets after 10pm because of the number of drunks who would try to stuff chip papers in his head casing or piss on him. He would also refuse to go near groups of wee boys at any time because of the high risk of being spray painted/dumped in front of a speeding train/set on fire.

Although proficient in over 3500 languages C3P0 would still be unable to understand anything anyone from the East End of Glasgow said. He would regularly get beaten up for being a 'greetin-faced poof fae Milngavie'.

The Millennium Falcon would have static strips, tinted windscreens and extra-flared exhaust ports. It would have a Daily Record I Love Scotland sticker in the back window and a saltire bumper sticker.

Princess Leia would get captured by Darth Vader because it's hard to run very fast when you're wearing 5inch platform heels and a tiny silver mini-skirt which keeps hiking up over your arse every two steps. And you've been a heavy smoker since you were 6.

The best way to destroy the Death Star would not necessarily be a desperate all out attack. Two easy ways would be

- alter its orbit so it passed through Bridgeton and tell the locals it was full of kafflicks,

- or leave it unattended in Easterhouse.

Lines from the film as they would be uttered in the vernacular

Han Solo

"I've got a real bad feeling about this"
"Ah'm shitin' ma sel' here boy"

"Bring 'em on! I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around."
"Come right ahead then! Fight the f**ing lot o ye!"

"There's no mystical energy field controls my destiny."
"The Force?!! D'youse think ah came doon wi the rain?!"

"Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid."
"Nae messin aboot wi the god squad and auld rubbish, wee man. Get yersel' a decent shooter"

Darth Vader trying to shoot down Luke Skywalker:

"The Force is strong in this one"
"Stop shooglin' ya wee basturd!"

Princess Leia

"You're a little short for a Stormtrooper aren't you?"
"Ah didnae think they took short-arses in the polis?"

"This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade."
"Wuv goat NAE chance in this pile o' shite"

Admiral Motti

Don't try to frighten us with your sorcerer's ways, Lord Vader."
"You think you're that hard, Vader so ye do. Well we're no feart ae you!"

Obi Wan

I felt a great disturbance in the Force."
"F*** me! whit wiz aw that?"

Luke to the Emperor

"Your overconfidence is your weakness."
"Oh ye bloody think so?, I'll make you feel the f***ing force pal!!"

[Lis sniggers away to herself like a teenager.] Hope you enjoyed!

I've got the sun in my face

And I'm enjoying the pleasant sunny evening before the rain comes tomorrow. Been away from the blog a while. Can't even remember the last time I posted. So what's been going on since whenever that was?

Well, we went to Scotland, something which is always good. On this occasion we were on a mission to procure a car. After seeing the crazy prices available when we were home at Christmas, we decided to take the plunge before the exchange rate had time to turn against us. We didn't end up with the one I've been lusting after, as they'd all gone (some lucky sod got there before us). But they were selling new ones for only 14.5k!! Alas, that was 4.5k over budget and a new car wasn't really the best option for us as the French government would try to fleece us for VAT upon importing it to France (thieving sh!ts). We even ended up with a diesel one even though I'd sworn against them! But it isn't silver. In fact it is red, so that will meet with Super nephew's exacting standards*.

As well as buying a car, we managed a visit to the Ancients, visits with the Weegies, M&M, Willie and Jane. I didn't (yes, did not) buy any books. In fact I didn't even set foot in Waterstone's. But I did buy a handbag (60% off!) and get my hair done. But I didn't spend any money in the John Lewis kitchenware department. Doggy was a bad 'un and wouldn't go for a walk with her Grandad, she wanted to come and look at cars with us!

What I learned on this trip home:
- used cars no longer come with a tax disc. The thievin' dealers cash them in, and you have to buy a new one!
- you need a UK insurance cover note to buy a tax disc
- temporary cover insurance is expensive but handy
- Super niece is a little imp
- Super nephew is obsessed with my Mum's car. Which happens to be red. *"Want to get in the red car"
- Super nephew and Super niece are ace
- 2-way radios help pass the time on the 550 mile journey down the A1-A14-M11-M25-M20-Channel-A16-A25
- 2-way radios also mean you can play at Top Gear
- having to drive all by yourself means you don't blub anywhere near as much after saying goodbye to parents, as you must concentrate
- French roads and motorways are shit. I knew this already, but driving back in the UK reminds me. They badly need cat's eyes
- French drivers are shit too. I never have to shout and get annoyed when we're at home. I have to shout and get annoyed all the time here
- the small car doesn't have a 65 litre endurance tank. So I can be away from the petrol station ages before Hubby
- our house is on Street View! As is my car, and my Mum's car
- my brother's house is also on Street View. My Dad's car is at their house
- my parents are omnipresent

And that's about all I have to say about that.

Every day is like Sunday

No disrespect to Morrissey, but, as we all know, every day isn't like Sunday. And that is a good thing. If every day were like Sunday, the only businesses to make any money in France would be garden centres, I'd spend my life gardening, lie-ins would quickly lose their novelty appeal, and we'd have to watch a week's worth of EastEnders all in one sitting (which is too much even for me).

What I have learned today:
- my electric hand mixer is one of my favourite kitchen gadgets. So very useful.
- our hot water is too hot. Ouch. Or maybe I need to make full use of the possibilities of the mixer tap?
- women need men to do icky tasks such as disposing of small animal corpses discovered in the garden. Let's not go into that.
- our garden is an almighty mess.
- ivy is a bugger to dig up
- when our neighbour offers me a few bay leaves, what he actually means is about thirty branches of them. Still, good for spaghetti sauce.

Happy Sunday afternoon everyone.

I'm all lost in the supermarket

Today I shopped. This is an event because usually Hubby takes care of the grocery shopping. I detest the supermarket and all the people contained therein. I also have an awful tendency to dawdle around the aisles comparing the prices on every item, reading the ingredients on all the labels and dithering over which product contains the least salt/fat/E numbers/whatever. Which makes the shopping take a very long time. Which in turn is probably a trigger for me detesting the supermarket. So all in all, Hubby doing the shopping is probably a good arrangement.

But anyway, I did it today. The supermarket was full of imbeciles as usual. It took sodding ages to buy 2 bagfuls of stuff. This is partly because I had to queue for aeons at the cheese counter. I probably didn't need to buy quite so much cheese, but it all looks so nice. Mmmm, cheese. After I'd got all the cheese, I shunned the crappy supermarket veg and grotty looking chicken pieces. Got those from the farm shop. Feel smug and ecomental for this, because my chicken pieces came from a chicken grower 30 miles away and not from the south west of France.

After all this shopping activity, I now have the makings of:

courgette, pine nut and balsamic pasta
chicken curry
asparagus risotto
baked trout with veg & noodle stir fry
duck confit
leek, tuna and flageolet rice
chicken stir fry

But I don't know what to do for lunch. Also am looking for a good (and relatively easy) recipe for panacotta (have some blackberries from the garden in the freezer that will go just nicely with that). Any tips?

Maybe we ain't that young anymore

And maybe I'm wearing out already! I finally got myself to the doc to have my knee prodded. Doc nodded sagely as I answered his questions. I must have answered them all correctly, because he rewarded me with a prescription for x-rays to confirm (or rule out) suspected "patella femoral maltracking". Naturally, I asked Google all about that as soon as I got home. Was quite amused to note that it's a common sports injury. Chuckle chuckle.

Also in the news:
We now have a bank loan for our double glazing, but we haven't chosen the firm we want to fit the windaes yet. I delegate all responsibility to Hubby because as far as I can tell there's no difference between them. We have, however, agreed a quote with the roofer who will replace all the flashing on the upstairs windows once they're done. So that's progress. Plus the chap is from just down the street so I can feel smug about supporting the local economy.

We're away to Scotland soon, hoping to possibly bag us a car while we're there. A week of intensive test-driving awaits. And if we don't find a car we'll still have had a week at home, which is always pleasant.

It's supernephew's birthday next week. I wanted to get him a Scotland rugby jersey, but I can't find any in toddler sizes. Will have to think of something else. Any ideas? His all-time hero is Thomas the Tank Engine...

Maybe I don't really want to know

Well we're certainly not going to be moving our mortgage if the best rate the bank can offer is 5.3%! (wtf??) But it does look like we've decided which double glazing to have. One with two panes of glass.

As for time wasted on the interweb, the permanent answer is, of course, far too much. But if the interweb were not there, I'd find another way to procrastinate and not do the ironing, so...

I don't think toothpaste can go off. But the Sensodyne still tastes foul. I suppose it hasn't become more rank, which is something to be thankful for.

Valentine gifts: cufflinks. Me to him and him to me. Imaginative? Perhaps not, but useful.

Rugby... let's stay away from topics that get my hackles raised quite so much!

Mobile phone operator finally changed contract. Hurrah. Local council still has no gritter. But I did drive past a sort of roady-worky depot thing yesterday, and there was definitely a pile of grit. When I win the lottery, I will buy them a gritter as a benevolent gift.

I was hoping that you'd know better than that

Given that a match in rugby union lasts 80 minutes, it was a great pity that Scotland only began to play in about the 72nd minute against Wales this afternoon. You'll have noticed also that the player who scored 8 out of our (rather pathetic) total of 13, and who nearly scored a try in both halves, was.... Yes that's right, Chris Paterson. Frank Hadden, pay attention: Chris Paterson to be given total ownership of number 10 jersey and to start every game. Got it? And while you're at it, get Thom Evans on the starting list and well.

I think also we were missing Nathan Hines on the second row... didn't see much of Ally Hogg either.

Still, all credit to Wales. Even if Scotland were making silly mistakes all over the place.

And I wonder, yes I wonder

Oh indeed, I wonder.

I wonder, will the bank call tomorrow with news of re-mortgaging? I wonder just how low we can beat the double glazing firms' prices down?

I wonder, how much time will I waste on the interweb this week? On Facebook in particular. Especially now me Mammy's on there.

I wonder, can toothpaste go off? You see, I bought some Sensodyne last year after having my wisdom teeth out, but it tastes so horrid I went back to my Colgate. And why does my sodding toothbrush seem to lose its battery charge so quickly?

I wonder, what should I get Hubby for Valentines' Day? What will he get me?

I wonder, or more I contemplate, that I've had to get my specs out to type this post. Oh, I could manage without, but it's much more comfortable with.

I wonder, will the rugby be good today? Will Scotland be useless or magnificent? How many minutes into the match before Hadden puts Paterson on?

I wonder, why do people think councils should invest in snowploughs costing 100 grand that will only be used once every 20 years. And, if councils did so, how long before the same people would complain about inappropriate spending decisions? I've lived here 8 years and never seen a gritter. But I have seen plenty frozen roads, and a fair bit of snow a couple of winters.

I wonder, will my mobile phone operator finally manage this month to change my contract plan like I instructed them to in December? Grr.

Turn the radio up loud so I don't have to think

Not been much blogging happening in these parts of late. What's my excuse? I don't have one. Too much messing around on Facebook, not enough inspiration. Or not capable of sufficiently coherent thought processes to put a blog post together, because it's not like there's nothing going on in the world for me to give forth about!

Anyway, when Ghosty posted this note on Facebook (I don't know if that link will work, actually), I thought "Bingo, will use that to emerge from blogging hibernation". I do approach this task with some degree of trepidation, because the Shuffle button may reveal some of the truly naff tracks I have on my iPod. Here goes then.

1. Put your iPod or iTunes library, MP3 player, etc. on Shuffle.
2. For each question, press the Next button to get your answer.
3. YOU MUST WRITE THAT SONG NAME DOWN NO MATTER HOW SILLY IT SOUNDS.

- IF SOMEONE SAYS "IS THIS OKAY?" YOU SAY...
Always On My Mind - Pet Shop Boys
So far, so good.

- WHAT WOULD BEST DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
Desire - U2

- WHAT DO YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL?
The Promised Land - Bruce Springsteen

- WHAT IS YOUR LIFE'S PURPOSE?
Skye (Live) - Runrig

- WHAT IS YOUR MOTTO?
These Are The Days of Our Lives - Queen
I don't know if it's really my motto, but it fits the question pretty well at least!

- WHAT DO YOUR FRIENDS THINK OF YOU?
Fine Time - New Order

- WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT VERY OFTEN?
Absolute Beginners - David Bowie

- WHAT IS 2+2?
Please Don't Die - Robbie Williams

- WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR BEST FRIEND?
We Are The Champions - Queen

- WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THE PERSON YOU LIKE?
Radio Ga Ga - Queen

- WHAT IS YOUR LIFE STORY?
Loaded - Primal Scream

- WHAT DO YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP?
Long Walk Home - Bruce Springsteen

- WHAT DO YOUR PARENTS THINK OF YOU?
Don't Panic - Coldplay

- WHAT WILL YOU DANCE TO AT YOUR WEDDING?
Pretty in Pink - The Psychedelic Furs

- WHAT WILL THEY PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL?
Hoppípolla - Sigur Rós

- WHAT IS YOUR HOBBY/INTEREST?
You Don't Fool Me - Queen

- WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST SECRET?
Born To Run - Bruce Springsteen

- WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS TEST?
Darkness On The Edge of Town - Bruce Springsteen

OK, my iPod didn't embarrass me too much here. I'm quite surprised at how many Queen and Springsteen tracks it landed on. I wish it would do that all the time.

Feel free to have a go, anyone.

Mrs Grumpy's Motor Car

So Hubby thinks we should be looking at buying a new (to us) car. My initial reaction was that there is nothing whatsoever the matter with my car. It's fine. It will easily last another ten years and another 110k miles. Neutral observers might be tempted to say my optimism is touching but naive. So before Christmas we went to the car shop and had a look. I didn't like any of the cars. They were all too small or too big or just plain too no bloody good. With that Hubby's car-changing plan was pretty much blown out of the water. Apart from Renaults I only really like Volvos and it's not like we can really afford one of those.

But then while we were at home we were driven around in my Mum's car which is only 3 years old (read: centuries younger than mine). My dear little motor car did look a bit old next to Mum's shiny (well, pretty mucky if I'm honest) wheels. I got to thinking that maybe a new car wouldn't be such a daft idea after all. Ours is cheap to run day-to-day, but I do have some niggling concerns about expensive things that might start going wrong. For example, when the engine is cold you can't downshift from 3rd to 2nd. You sort of have to miss out 2nd altogether. Does that sound like my gearbox is wearing out? Does anyone know anything about car mechanics?

With this in mind, and out of curiosity, I thought I'd check out used car prices. And my curious form of curiosity saw me checking out used car prices in the UK as well as in France. I wish I hadn't. We're talking a V50 with less than 30k miles on the clock for less than 10 grand. I'm just torturing myself because even if we could afford to buy one, I'll never be able to afford to service it. It's so not fair. More realistically, the sort of car we should be looking at is available used for around £8,800. Same car with similar spec and mileage here in rip-off France? €13,500. The £/€ exchange rate is going to have to go up quite a lot before the French option starts looking like a good buy.

So Hubby and I are thinking about buying a UK (RHD) car and importing it to France. Initial investigations reveal the process to be relatively simple (thank you, Europe) and relatively inexpensive (biggest cost would be changing the headlights to LHD ones). I don't suppose anyone has already done this? (She asks, oh-so optimistically.) I know, I know, the car would be the wrong way round, making using multi-storey car parks a bit of a pain. But as Hubby says, having the steering wheel on the wrong side is worth it to save five grand.

So what do you think? Do we get a Volvo that we can't afford to run just so I can admire it sat parked in the street? Or a sensible hatchback that we can actually keep in petrol and servicing?

8 times table

A somewhat Confused young miss tagged me this 8 things meme way back in 2008 ;)
So I thought it was about time I replied, and also about time I got on with some blogging.

Here goes.

8 Favourite TV Shows:

1. Top Gear. Some of it is getting a bit tired these days (but come on, it's done 12 seasons of the new format!). The specials (Africa, US road trip, some of the races) are the best.
2. Life on Mars. I'm assuming I can chose programmes no longer on air. Well I just am doing. This was some of the best telly in ages. Gotta love the Gene Genie.
3. EastEnders. I have no shame in admitting to my trash-telly habit.
4. Mock the Week. Much cackling to be had here.
5. Ashes to Ashes. Not as good as Life on Mars. But there's the Gene Genie. And Keeley Hawes is learning to be less annoying.
6. Spooks. Harry Pearce for PM.
7. Only Fools and Horses.
8. Blackadder. Best one was Third series.

8 Things That Happened Yesterday:

1. It was Doggy's 6th birthday! Happy doggy birthday.
2. We bought a huge bag of peanuts at the garden centre to feed the birdies with. Poor birdies. It's very cold.
3. Cocotte & Steph came round for tea. Our excuse this week: Doggy's birthday. Plus we hadn't all seen each other since last year!
4. We went to Renault and looked at cars. They were all too expensive and too diesel-powered.
5. I looked at some other cars on the interweb and chose the one I want.
6. I had an old person's nap.
7. Doggy got a new toy. (No spoilt dogs here. Oh no.)
8. It was 'ckin Baltic. Again.

8 Favourite Places to Eat:

1. Mum & Dad's. Easy answer but then my Mum is a top cook.
2. Chantal & Jean-Paul's (parents-in-law). See above.
3. La Maison Commune. Local café serving local fare.
4. Tea at The Balmoral. For sheer indulgence.
5. La Fenière. It's in the village we go to in the Ardèche and it's lovely.
6. Curry. Here, here, here (biggest peshwari nans you have ever seen), and other places.
7. The Stable Bar for fish and chips.
8. The Dome (more indulgence here).

8 Things I’m Looking Forward To:

1. Next weekend.
2. Spring.
3. Next visit to Scotland.
4. Holiday in June I hope.
5. No longer having this crappy lurgy.
6. Seeing Jeni & kids. Have to sort something out!
7. The weekend after next. (!)
8. Our new translation server at work. That we haven't chosen yet.

8 Things On My Wish List:

1. A new (to me) car.
2. Double glazing.
3. Re-mortgaging to pay for the double glazing.
4. A new laptop battery. So not a priority though.
5. A new gas boiler (that might go in the re-mortgaging as well).
6. Above-zero temperatures (quite soon please!).
7. Tickets to the 6 Nations. Maybe next year. Pete'd be up for that.
8. A housework fairy. I'd settle for just the ironing?

There.

While shepherds washed their socks by night

Here we are, back in the USSR.... er, no, back in Midlothian for the season to be jolly. Arrived on Sunday after a stopover in York at Uncle D's and Auntie S's. Really enjoyed seeing them. It was also great to be able to break the journey and also to be able to drive all the way in daylight. Especially at this time of year. And when your car is the wrong way round.

Lovely to be home. Missed seeing the Cambuslang crowd, and they are now being shipped to Cairo by KLM. Will see them for New Year though. While I'm on the subject of the Cambuslang crowd, I have a prayer request (or good vibes or pagan moon dances or whatever): for Claire and for the full removal of a malignant tumour and the all clear after her surgery.

Meanwhile, on an altogether happier subject we are pretty much primed for Christmas here. Turkey: in fridge; presents: wrapped; food: also in fridge; tree: er, standing out the back at the moment because we need to sort the sitting room out first! Can I just say how cheap groceries are here. We bought a trolley full of fruit, veg, mince pies, oatcakes, double cream and lots of other things today at Sainsbury's and it all cost... 70 British pounds. The same stuff would easily have cost over 100 French euros from Auchan. And Sainsbury's is hardly the cheapest supermarket. I feel very ripped off living in France at the moment. Best I don't think about it because it winds me up.

So what else is there to report? Not a lot folks. Have been hermit-like since arriving and not seen anyone. But am looking forward to seeing Willie, M&M, Macleod, Jane, Annie, Em...

Aside: there is a creepy man on telly who is actually touching moths. Eugh!!

And talking of the telly... I will tell you this boy, I will tell you this, Rab C. is back! For one night only and that night is tonight. BBC 2, 9pm. And even you lucky folks in England are being treated to his pondering. You might get subtitles if you're lucky ;)

Well I clearly have nothing useful or insightful to say to I'll be off. Tidings of Joy to you all!!

Re posting: Why cork wine stoppers are best

I'm re-posting this post from last May, which is suddenly a bit topical following a BBC Natural World documentary broadcast last night on the subject of the Iberian cork forests. This unique habitat is home to many rare birds as well as the critically endangered Iberian lynx. If you live in the UK, watch it now on iPlayer. But hurry because you have 6 days and counting.

If you care even a tiny bit, please also join this Facebook group: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=45636837750

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Anyone who knows me will already know that I tend to turn my wine snob's nose up at bottles with plastic corks or screw-cap closures. This distaste is has two sources.

1/ As any wine lover will tell you, wine breathes, ages and evolves better in a cork closed bottle. Why is this so? Well, for a wine to continue to mature once it's been bottled, there must be a continuing exchange between the wine in the bottle and the air surrounding the bottle (if you're lucky, this will be the cool and relatively humidity-stable air of a good cave). Plastic corks and screw-caps hermetically seal the wine meaning it cannot age. This is fine if the wine is intended for consumption within... max 2 years after bottling, but it is equivalent to suffocating a Saint Estèphe or a Vosne Romanée.

2/ Environmental issues. A plastic cork is just downright bad for the environment. It's made from petro-chemicals. It doesn't biodegrade and probably most plastic corks end up in the household rubbish bin with no hope of being recycled.
A traditional cork, however, is good from beginning to end. Natural cork is harvested from cork oaks (Quercus suber), with the largest production areas to be found in Spain and Portugal. The cork oak forests are ancient mixed-farming areas, combining forest and grazing pasture. Because the harvesting of the bark is done using traditional methods and involves no mechanical techniques, the habitat is preserved. Animals such as the endangered Iberian lynx and Spanish eagle rely on these forests and suffer from their conversion to intensively-farmed agricultural land.

To help preserve these essential habitats, and ensure a future for cork oak farmers in Europe and elsewhere around the Mediterranean, you can make a difference by choosing to buy wine with a natural cork stopper and steering clear of plastic and screw-caps. Some UK retailers are now indicating the type of closure used on their wines either in their online catalogues or in store. But they are also applying pressure to their wholesalers and suppliers to provide wine with plastic or screw-cap closures. You can help by just not buying these wines, writing to the supermarkets and retailers, and writing directly to suppliers to give your views. Consumer pressure does make a difference.

And the biggest thing you can do to help is boycott all wine from Morrison's. Or better still, boycott their stores altogether. This is because Liz Robertson, former head of wine for Safeway (now Morrison's), is stupid. She said "We think that plastic stoppers are good for the environment because they relieve pressure on the cork groves and prevent over-harvesting.” Clearly, she has NO IDEA at all. Cork oak farming is probably the only form of farming in Europe today that doesn't involve over-harvesting. And yes, something made from hydrocarbons and that doesn't bio-degrade and isn't recycled is obviously good for the environment. Of course.

Some links to find out more:
Newsmonster article
RSPB articles
Independent.co.uk article
Real Cork campaign
Environmental news service article
WWF Mediterranean Cork Oak conservation project

Possibly the worst postal service in the world

Let me tell you a story. Last weekend I ordered a whole pile of Christmas gifts. I ordered them all on off the interweb, feeling smug as I went. All items but one were purchased from UK-based sites and have all since been delivered to my parents' address.

One item was ordered from fnac.com. Logically, I had it sent here to our house. I received confirmation of despatch on Monday. So today, a week later, I thought I'd have a wee look on the parcel tracking to find out what was what. And to my indignant disgust (but, tellingly, not to my surprise), I find that the useless f**king incompetent wasters at La Poste seem to think they knocked on our door on Thursday. They say we weren't in and they left a wee note to say we had a parcel. I say they are lying f**king wasters. They also claim that the parcel is now awaiting collection in "Bureau de Poste - Villeneuve d'Ascq" and that I have been advised of its presence there. I say again that they are no-good f**king shitfaces. I never received the wee note advising of a parcel. And there are 4 (count 'em) post offices in Villeneuve d'Ascq. You'd think that La Poste would know that. But clearly we are dealing with a crowd of utter morons who cannot tell their collective arse from their collective elbow, so we can't expect too much now can we?

I shall be visiting my wrath upon La Poste tomorrow. I shall visit my wrath upon them by telephone first, in the vain hope that if I give their complaints department (I hope they have plenty staff, probably very busy in this department) the tracking number, they'll be able to identify which bureau de poste has my parcel.

Maybe this is what has happened to the other 3 parcels we've been waiting for since the beginning of November? The brainless shitbags probably buggered up delivering them also.

And what pisses me off even more is that, while the lobotomised dimwits have been fannying around with *my* stuff, they somehow managed to get their collective finger out and safely deliver a massive parcel to Hubby. I see, national preference is it?

I'm sick of living in a third world country. Harrumph.

Mirror in the bathroom

Here it is at last, our microscopic bathroom and its new chocolate & cream look.

Almost there! Just a wee bit of tiling to finish but I'm waiting for Hubby to fix a wee leak. As you can see, our bathroom truly is tiny, but the new colours do make the space seem bigger. And we're loving our towel ladder radiator, especially with the cold weather! I just need some chocolate coloured towels. John Lewis clearance, here I come!!

Let's get behind the wheel

Our house is just off the main street through the village. Just at the end of the main street before a left-hand/right-hand double bend (we call it the chicane, because it goes left then right, like a chicane strangely enough).

You can't miss the bend. As you can see on the stunning illustration to the left (please excuse the rather crappy Paint-job here!), it's a pretty sharp turn. As you approach, there is a raised speed-hump-traffic calming thing, and they have surfaced the road with that beige "super grip" stuff. There are also big blue and white arrow signs stuck on the barriers on the curb (they put the barriers up after one time when a car actually ended up in the front door of the house on the corner (I'm seriously not joking)). But every week (again, I'm not joking) a car manages to miss the corner completely and carry on up onto the pavement.

It's just happened how, as it goes. The second in as many days. Yesterday someone kerbed quite badly in the snow. Any how, that's what gave me the idea for this post just now. We heard a screech and a bang. Like the busybodies we are, we tore upstairs to have a good ogle out the windows. Looks like a Clio. And it must be well and truly stuck because the chap hasn't followed usual procedure of just reversing off the pavement and carrying on.

I just don't get it. The chicane is in a 30 kmph (20 mph) zone. They put down super grip road surfacing (a sure sign of the need to go slow). There is a massive speed bump hump thing just before it. And still they come. I don't know if it's because people are going way too fast, they aren't paying attention, or what. Too fast I think. But I still don't get it.

It would be funny if it weren't that the poor folk who stay in the house right on the corner have had to have their front door replaced and part of their front wall rebuilt. They now have concrete blocks in their front garden to slow any out-of-control vehicles. And another chap who lives next door but one to that house got rear-ended by a driver who managed to miss the barriers but rode up the pavement and slammed into the parked cars. And then left the scene. Plus every time the barriers get knocked down, whose cooncil tax do you think it is funding their replacement?

Like I say, it would be funny.