In a previous post we'd arrived in the foothills of the Pyrenees to start house hunting in earnest, there wasn't much in our price range as we were looking for a renovation project but also adequate living accommodation. We fell between the price of derelict properties (of which there were many) and new or renovated property,perhaps a partial renovation or a place renovated in the 50s or 60s (of which there weren't many!) We had previously renovated a week-end cottage and my late wife refused "to go to bed by ladder for months on end!" I conceed that although an enthusiastic DIYer I do tend to start other projects before the current one is fully completed.
In France estate agents always drive potential clients to view the properties, this seems at first sight to be a polite and usefull service, the reality of course is that they want to prevent purchaser and vendor from getting together to do a private deal and depriving them of their commission!
Our first agent had a sign in the window "Enlish Spoken" their spelling not mine! A far cry from today when every agent has access to an English speaker and in this case even futher as "English Spoken" was the estate agents wife. She was in hospital, literally with her knees in the stirrups, about to give birth. As soon as he realised we weren't interested in his top price book, he shot off to do the modern mans thing and left us in the hands of the fat lady. The fat lady in the Fiat Panda, most of it! There seemed little room left for us!
At this point we made a near fatal mistake! Thinking it good sense, I sat in the front on the basis that my "O" level French (circa 1956) would afford some small degree of communication. I forgot that french people need to look you in the eye to talk to you and that women are likely to address other women on the subject of kitchens and similar facilities! So there we were crammed into a tiny car hurtling along country lanes with the fat lady turning round to talk to the wife in the back seat about the delux kitchen features in the next property!
We survived the experience, lesson learnt but didn't find a suitable place. We were passed down the line to the next estate agent where we met Yolande d'Artagnon. No relation to the great musketeer but her family came from the same village as HIS mum. The "d" or "de" means from and I have visited Artagnon and seen the plaque on the wall !
Meeting Yolande was a stroke of luck, although she spoke no English she had the unusual ability to shout slowly, this being the method by which I had been taught my "O" level french (circa 1956), communication was established!
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Fat Old Fart (weekly bulletin)
NO GREAT CHANGE ! Perhaps I've lost another half kilo but with an old farts gut it's a bit difficult to see down to between the big toes.
Was out to lunch on Saturday and pigged out on both bread and paté and bread and cheese ! The main course was Steak and Chips which I was really looking forward to, as every time I try to cook steak it's as tough as old boots.Disappointingly we had new boots and chips!
This week I've started walking the dog in the afternoon as well as morning, more exercise but will it burn off many more calories? No real success in reducing alcohol intake, the last few days have been beautifully sunny at mid-day and taking an appero on the back terrace is fatal. Sitting in the sun,sipping wine whilst gazing across the verdant,rolling foothills to the mighty snow-capped mountains dominating the horizon; there's no way I can stop at one!!
Was out to lunch on Saturday and pigged out on both bread and paté and bread and cheese ! The main course was Steak and Chips which I was really looking forward to, as every time I try to cook steak it's as tough as old boots.Disappointingly we had new boots and chips!
This week I've started walking the dog in the afternoon as well as morning, more exercise but will it burn off many more calories? No real success in reducing alcohol intake, the last few days have been beautifully sunny at mid-day and taking an appero on the back terrace is fatal. Sitting in the sun,sipping wine whilst gazing across the verdant,rolling foothills to the mighty snow-capped mountains dominating the horizon; there's no way I can stop at one!!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Fat Old Fart (weekly bulletin)
SUCESS, I'VE LOST 2 KILOS! AMAZING!
And I re-weighed today to check it!
This is too good to be true as all I've achieved is to give up bread, cut down significantly on potatos and eat more veg. I'm making clear vegetable soup for lunch (no bread) and having more veg. at dinner instead of potato. I'm farting like a Methane Gas factory!
Still no real inroads on the alcohol side, although today I tried drinking lager, from wine glasses as my lunch time appero. so was able to substitute a small bottle of beer for a half bottle of wine.
And I re-weighed today to check it!
This is too good to be true as all I've achieved is to give up bread, cut down significantly on potatos and eat more veg. I'm making clear vegetable soup for lunch (no bread) and having more veg. at dinner instead of potato. I'm farting like a Methane Gas factory!
Still no real inroads on the alcohol side, although today I tried drinking lager, from wine glasses as my lunch time appero. so was able to substitute a small bottle of beer for a half bottle of wine.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Pulling Power
Last week I was back in the UK, attending my old firms annual reunion. The best bit was getting down the pub afterwards and meeting up with all the other contemporary Old Farts. Even better was, that whilst there, I pulled a bird !!
"The bird" was the young(ish) lady that organises all the office catering and it was a great feeling walking out of there and seeing the covert but envious glances that followed me. I could almost see some of them thinking, " he's lost none of that old pulling power from 40 odd years ago when, as a young blade, he was running amok in the typist pool".
The reality, that I'm not telling them, was that I was sitting near the end of a table when she came and sat next to me, nudged me in the ribs and whispered in my ear "You're coming home with me tonight!"
That proved to be the highlight of the evening, indeed the night! We duly arrived at her place, opened a bottle of white wine and repaired to the front room carpet for an orgy of snogging, groping and "you must listen to this " romantic music. These physical activities I am now little suited to by way of age and somewhat portly bearing and as a way of relieving my discomfort casually edged toward the sofa for lumbar support. As I writhed in a combination of sexual foreplay and acute discomfort I somehow managed to activate the foot-rest mode of the sofa. Every time I moved a great leather bound shelf shot out and rammed me in the kidneys,to add even more to my discomfort.
Later (it seemed MUCH later) she disappeared into the bathroom for several minutes and returned clad in neck to ankle black pyjamas, rather like a jogging suit. I didn't find this off-putting in the least as I had heard that horizontal jogging was, as well as being sexually satisfying, extremely beneficial to cardio-vascular health. We retired to the bedroom and to bed.
As I edged over to her side I looked down expecting to find myself in an advanced state of sexual excitement, but nothing! All I saw was a limp,flaccid little stump of flesh and felt not the slightest of stirrings in the loins. I desperately tried to think of an amusing explanation when she said " God I feel terrible! The rooms spinning and I feel sick!" SAVED!
I settled down for the night and soon fell asleep. Not for long because, in the dead of night, the duvet was throw back and a giant electric fan on the bedside table switch to full blast. Yes the dreaded hot flushes! I lay there, trying to get back to sleep, as though in a wind tunnel, with my finger nails dug deep into the mattress to save being blown off the bed. A bad night with three such attacks!
In the morning your correspondent made his excuses and left!!! (with apologies to the News of the World)
I've thought about this, my first sexual encounter since my wife died five years ago, a lot and edited in these thoughts. Senility in old farts is often called "second childhood", I don't feel I am that old but have come to the conclusion that I am in fact suffering from "second virgin-hood".
I AM A 68 YEAR OLD VIRGIN!
"The bird" was the young(ish) lady that organises all the office catering and it was a great feeling walking out of there and seeing the covert but envious glances that followed me. I could almost see some of them thinking, " he's lost none of that old pulling power from 40 odd years ago when, as a young blade, he was running amok in the typist pool".
The reality, that I'm not telling them, was that I was sitting near the end of a table when she came and sat next to me, nudged me in the ribs and whispered in my ear "You're coming home with me tonight!"
That proved to be the highlight of the evening, indeed the night! We duly arrived at her place, opened a bottle of white wine and repaired to the front room carpet for an orgy of snogging, groping and "you must listen to this " romantic music. These physical activities I am now little suited to by way of age and somewhat portly bearing and as a way of relieving my discomfort casually edged toward the sofa for lumbar support. As I writhed in a combination of sexual foreplay and acute discomfort I somehow managed to activate the foot-rest mode of the sofa. Every time I moved a great leather bound shelf shot out and rammed me in the kidneys,to add even more to my discomfort.
Later (it seemed MUCH later) she disappeared into the bathroom for several minutes and returned clad in neck to ankle black pyjamas, rather like a jogging suit. I didn't find this off-putting in the least as I had heard that horizontal jogging was, as well as being sexually satisfying, extremely beneficial to cardio-vascular health. We retired to the bedroom and to bed.
As I edged over to her side I looked down expecting to find myself in an advanced state of sexual excitement, but nothing! All I saw was a limp,flaccid little stump of flesh and felt not the slightest of stirrings in the loins. I desperately tried to think of an amusing explanation when she said " God I feel terrible! The rooms spinning and I feel sick!" SAVED!
I settled down for the night and soon fell asleep. Not for long because, in the dead of night, the duvet was throw back and a giant electric fan on the bedside table switch to full blast. Yes the dreaded hot flushes! I lay there, trying to get back to sleep, as though in a wind tunnel, with my finger nails dug deep into the mattress to save being blown off the bed. A bad night with three such attacks!
In the morning your correspondent made his excuses and left!!! (with apologies to the News of the World)
I've thought about this, my first sexual encounter since my wife died five years ago, a lot and edited in these thoughts. Senility in old farts is often called "second childhood", I don't feel I am that old but have come to the conclusion that I am in fact suffering from "second virgin-hood".
I AM A 68 YEAR OLD VIRGIN!
Fat Old Fart (weekly bulletin)
NO CHANGE
Only weak-willed self indulgent greed to report, WHY can't I leave the wine alone or even reduce it??????
At least my pathetic attempts at reducing my calorie intake have prevented any increase in my weight !
Only weak-willed self indulgent greed to report, WHY can't I leave the wine alone or even reduce it??????
At least my pathetic attempts at reducing my calorie intake have prevented any increase in my weight !
Thursday, January 10, 2008
The Nuclear Debate
On my way back from a short visit to the UK I note that the government have announced a new energy policy that includes an expansion of Nuclear powered electricity generation. As a long term supporter of CND and having watched the first Aldermarston march pass by nearly 50 years ago I feel adequately qualified to comment on this subject.
I also have the experience of living in a country which generates nearly 75% of its electricity from Nuclear power and like all the population have been made aware of the emergency procedures that would click into effect in the event of a "Nuclear Incident". This is an interesting phrase which I suppose is a coverall for Nuclear Accident through to Nuclear Terrorism!
These emergency procedures are based on the local town hall (accurately the Mayors Office) which is required to test the emergency siren once a month at a specific time. If this should go off in earnest, we are to make our way to the Town Hall, in specific order; mothers with young children, pregnant women and then adults. (Old Farts don't seem to get a mention here). A stock of anti-radiation tablets are held there.
Of course, in our village, the timing of a Nuclear Incident is fairly critical on account of the fact that the Town Hall is only open for 2 hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays
I also have the experience of living in a country which generates nearly 75% of its electricity from Nuclear power and like all the population have been made aware of the emergency procedures that would click into effect in the event of a "Nuclear Incident". This is an interesting phrase which I suppose is a coverall for Nuclear Accident through to Nuclear Terrorism!
These emergency procedures are based on the local town hall (accurately the Mayors Office) which is required to test the emergency siren once a month at a specific time. If this should go off in earnest, we are to make our way to the Town Hall, in specific order; mothers with young children, pregnant women and then adults. (Old Farts don't seem to get a mention here). A stock of anti-radiation tablets are held there.
Of course, in our village, the timing of a Nuclear Incident is fairly critical on account of the fact that the Town Hall is only open for 2 hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays
Friday, January 4, 2008
2008- The Great Flu Epidemic
Last Sunday I had used the excuse of pretend flu to avoid a New Years Eve Party and had been told on Monday that Jean-Claude wasn't well. A couple of days later I met him out walking the dog, or rather I heard him coughing, spluttering and wheezing long before I met him. He looked a terrible state eyes watering, nose running and as grey as an unwashed sheet.
He told me that his wife, if anything, was even worse than he and some of his family seemed to be going down with the same bug; the inference clearly was that Andrew had passed on his germs and was the source of the impending epidemic. Back home we got considerable amusement from the coincidence.
How often do our little fabrications catch up with us? What the Jolly Wheeze hadn't taken into account was that after the visitors had left he would want to return the borrowed heater, which he offered to do this morning! Non, Non I shouted, thinking if he comes round and sees Andrew prancing around like a young gazelle, he's going to be suspicious that we'd lied about going to the party. Now I'm in this dilemma as to how long Andrews flu can last.
In a quirk of poetic justice I've got the beginings of a runny nose and sore throat; am I going down with the germ they've got?
He told me that his wife, if anything, was even worse than he and some of his family seemed to be going down with the same bug; the inference clearly was that Andrew had passed on his germs and was the source of the impending epidemic. Back home we got considerable amusement from the coincidence.
How often do our little fabrications catch up with us? What the Jolly Wheeze hadn't taken into account was that after the visitors had left he would want to return the borrowed heater, which he offered to do this morning! Non, Non I shouted, thinking if he comes round and sees Andrew prancing around like a young gazelle, he's going to be suspicious that we'd lied about going to the party. Now I'm in this dilemma as to how long Andrews flu can last.
In a quirk of poetic justice I've got the beginings of a runny nose and sore throat; am I going down with the germ they've got?
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