Time for another brief update from the Dordogne dwellers. I am writing this one in the garden, where it is already hotting up nicely and the sky is gloriously blue. Yesterday, today and tomorrow all very hot and clear. Fantastique. Since Matt’s return, we had several days of comparatively cool weather, but we put this to good use by performing some much-needed maintenance on our 2 veggie gardens. The beans and tomatoes (both of which are bearing fruit!) now have frames to climb up, and some of the larger plants – courgettes, cucumbers etc – underwent a traumatic relocation to give them more ‘lebenstraum’ (living space – about the only thing I seem to remember from GCSE history). Although they wilted a lot, the freshly re-planted veg are now recovering, which is a relief. We are both also working at the moment: Matt continues to make good progress on his prototype and I have been working on a website for my latest client, Gordon Cole Architectural. I have produced 2 designs for him to look over and am now very enthused about the project and am impatiently waiting to hear back from him before I can do anything further.
The reason for today’s cheesy pun of a blog title is that we are all experiencing the terrible truth behind the phrase “don’t speak too soon”. When we arrived back in November, there were flies everywhere and they drove us potty. Fortunately, they all died in mid-December. This year, we had been waiting for the onslaught, but it never came. By the end of June, we had all commented on our mysterious good fortune and hoped it would long continue. Not so much. It was literally overnight, a couple weeks ago, when we awoke to a hamlet literally crawling with houseflies. It is exceedingly unpleasant, to say the least. The only ones enjoying this are the boys, who went from hopeless amateurs to hardened fly-hunters in just a week. Despite their best efforts though, the sheer quantity of the buggers means we are still inundated. Worse still, just this last week, the houseflies have been joined by horseflies and mozzies and we are all getting bitten daily. I make a point to try not to kill any living things in general, but even I have a limit. C’est la guerre!
The boys, in addition to doing their bit in fly population control, are also getting more adventurous out in the garden, exploring further afield, despite the effect of this on my blood pressure. We had a major incident the other day when a neighbour’s black labrador suddenly appeared out of nowhere just at the edge of our garden and terrified Louis up a tree. They both know how to shimmy up a trunk and down it again, but the problem occurs when they encounter a branch. They will then walk onto that branch and from there, are unable to work out how to get back onto the trunk to climb down.
On this occasion, Louis got into a panic and climbed higher and higher until even with a step-ladder, he was far too high up to reach. Smeagol, a far less timid cat, noticed how agitated his brother had become, so charged up the tree himself, reached Louis, and promptly administered his usual cure for everything – licking. This was very sweet, but not terribly bright; we now had 2 utterly stuck cats instead of one. I ran over to the Frenchie’s to ask if they had either rope or a longer ladder, but no joy. Instead, two of them joined Matt & I and tried to cajole the cats down, but they were both working themselves into a real panic by this point. Smeagol ended up climbing about another 6 feet higher than the already inaccessible Louis, making me wish we had taken him inside the moment Louis freaked out. In the end, we managed to get Louis to jump down onto an open umbrella we proffered from the top of the step-ladder. It wasn’t too dignified a landing, but he made it. The Smeag however took a lot longer. In the end, he also made it onto the umbrella, but only because he lost his footing and plummeted down onto it, scratching his neck a few times in the process.
It would be nice to report they had learned from this ordeal, but the very next morning I was rescuing Louis from yet another tree (fortunately, this one was easier to climb). The buggers…. I just hope that they behave themselves next month, as their original owners, Véronique and Jérome Demailly, and their 2 boys, are coming to stay for a night or two. We befriended Véro on Facebook back in June and have kept her updated with news and pics of the boys, whom she still misses terribly. She cannot wait to see them again, which I can well understand. They have never been to the Dordogne either, so it will be nice to show them around, if we can tear her away from the boys for more than 5 mins!
Today, hopefully, finally, I should be getting my phone back. It accidentally made it’s way back to Blighty after Dave & Rosie’s visit, but they sent it back via courier about 10 days ago. It was due to arrive a week ago today but I heard nothing from them all day. Rosie chased them up and a day or two later, we learned that it had been returned to their Bordeaux depot as they were unable to find the place. I have since learned that DHL stands for Drivers Hopelessly Lost.
I do appreciate that this is rural France, but there is a main road linking the capital city of the Dordogne to the capital city of the Charante, the département to our west. Our (signposted) turning is on that main road and we are one of only 12 houses in the hamlet. For any monkey capable of reading a map or using a sat-nav, it couldn’t be much more straightforward. When they finally deigned to update me again, it was to ask for my phone number so I could give the driver guidance(!). I supplied it and then waited all afternoon for a call that never came. I sent several emails, all ignored. Finally, the next morning I received an email telling me that the number has to be a French one or the driver won’t call it. Argh! Doing my best to stay calm, I provided them with Sharon’s number and again, waited by the phone for the call. This was now Friday. Several hours later, the last of my patience evaporated and I asked when I could expect a call. The eventual reply stated that the driver would try again on Monday 19th. 10 days after it left the UK and 1 week later than originally due. Words fail me…
Well, that is about it from me – I am off to see what mischief the boys have gotten themselves into whilst I have been distracted. A bientot.