Life In 79

After a busy day of doing 'jobs', come five o'clock, we can be found slumped on the sofa watching ' A Place in the Sun', 'A New Life in the Sun', 'Help! We Bought a Village'   or some other programme based on property renovation Anna, my wife, wants to watch. Usually around property number two Anna will 'get more comfy' and assume the horizontal position putting her feet on my lap. Before property number three she will 'rest one eye', and stare at the telly like Popeye...shortly followed by the other. Convinced she has reached DEFCON 2 level of sleep or the nasal whistling has begun, I will reach for the remote control and have a flick...   “I was watching that!”, “You were asleep”, “No I wasn't” , etc.   This also happens on long car journeys, sometimes when she is driving! I'm chastised for not being able to sleep in the passenger seat when she is driving,   “well someone's got to stay awake!”   Having written off the ca...

It started with a photo of a cat...I looked closer at the WhatsApp...I didn't recognise the cat but I recognised the sofa it was lying on. The accompanying message from Anna, my wife, read:  'This is Pantoufle, she is now living with us.'  Unlike the first ferrel cat we took in, this one didn't understand the rules about defecating outside, so now whenever I go out of the back door, there is a crunching of kitty litter underfoot, which the cat has sprayed about while trying to find a comfortable squatting position. She also has a penchant for piddling in the log basket. Another reason to wear slippers chez Shaw is this cat is a playful biter. Like Cato in the Pink Panther films she will rush at me from behind the bathroom door first thing in the morning and latch on to a toe.   This is just one of the many changes in my life since my last communique, dear reader. What else has happened? Oh yes...sadly 'project chicken' has come to an unfortunate end. The four ch...

It started with a photo of a cat...I looked closer at the WhatsApp...I didn't recognise the cat but I recognised the sofa it was lying on. The accompanying message from Anna, my wife, read: 'This is Pantoufle, she is now living with us.'   Unlike the first ferrel cat we took in, this one didn't understand the rules about defecating outside, so now whenever I go out of the back door, there is a crunching of kitty litter underfoot, which the cat has sprayed about while trying to find a comfortable squatting position. She also has a penchant for piddling in the log basket. Another reason to wear slippers chez Shaw is this cat is a playful biter. Like Cato in the Pink Panther films she will rush at me from behind the bathroom door first thing in the morning and latch on to a toe.   After spending the last two Christmas days on our own, third time lucky. My son and daughter with their respective partners arrived having battled several UK picket lines. We spent a wonderful we...

When our two year stewardship of 'The DSM' magazine came to an end we found we had lots of lovely time on our hands. I'm not a golfer and Anna, my wife, doesn't like gardening (she will sit on the lawn mower, for a couple of hours, but that's it). So time began to drag. Anna announced she needed 'a new project'. This made me nervous as her new projects usually involve me. How right I was. For the past eighteen months we have been renovating a small town house. Our life has revolved around the project; everyday scraping, sanding, filling, painting - I don't own an article of clothing that doesn't have a dab of paint on, I was constantly picking flakes of lead paint from my hair and don't get me started on my fingernails.  As well as learning things about renovation (like never doing it again), we have learnt things about each other. Yes, I won't lie, our marriage has been sorely tested. Arguments have occurred and tears have been shed (althoug...

It is that time of the year when a collection of hillbilly vehicles appear at the edge of our garden. The sound of birds chirping is shattered by the screaming of baying dogs and a Boggis, Bunce and Bean collection of men in Hi Vis orange jackets, looking like an angry mob of Liberal Democrats tanked up on moonshine and eager to kill anything that moves (often each other or some innocent bystander) muster. Yes, it's that Chasse time of year.   If you are off out for a leisurely stroll after Sunday lunch be sure to don your striped bobble hat and multicoloured coat. Now is not the time to go a-wandering down a country lane in your wild boar jacket with complimentary coypu hat.   I'm not good with guns. Even the recent sight of soldiers at Poitiers Airport packing automatic weapons, made me break out in a sweat. My family's history is peppered with gun related incidents. In fact I'm lucky to still be alive.   My grandfather only had one eye. I erroneously thought he had l...

Having experienced a veritable drought of seeing family and friends over the last few years, this summer turned into the rainy season. It started with our son's wedding. In temperatures of the high 30s, we watched our little boy tie the knot. For some reason he had decided to wear a tweed suit with matching waistcoat for the big day along with his best man. He looked very red and moist but extremely happy.   At a previous wedding Anna, my wife, and I had a contretemps about my refusal to dance. Not wanting a recurrence I danced, how I danced...and then...I danced some more. At one point I was the only one throwing shapes on the dance floor, even the DJ had naffed off.   On the long drive home Anna and I, and our daughter (who was coming to stay) felt a bit rough from our exertions; my throat felt a bit raspy from screaming 'Hi Ho Silver Lining' and other anthems. Turned out we had Covid. Over the next week everyone who attended the wedding came down with the lurgy. It was a...

I don't complain. If someone stands on my foot getting off the bus I apologise; if there's a fly in my soup I will say nothing. I am spineless. Anything to avoid confrontation. Anna, my wife, does the confrontation (she's Scottish). If the lunch we ordered hasn't appeared after 50 minutes...Anna will go and enquire.  But last month the worm turned...twice! We have nearly finished renovating a small house in the beautiful village of Saint Loup with a view to Airbnb. The town's folk were having a ' guinguette'   (we thought this was the name of the group playing), so this was an ideal opportunity to immerse ourselves in village life by drinking far too much at the guinguette, staggering back to our abode to have a good night's sleep.   The first part we managed successfully; music, dancing, drinking and a ' wee pook a chaps' as they say in Scotland. Even the staggering back was achieved, but a good night's sleep...? The little house is next to ...