Life In 79

I was awoken by a stirring under the duvet. At first I thought it was Anna, my wife, getting fresh. I then remembered she had shipped out to the spare room earlier that night. There it was again...pulling the cover back I saw a mouse running hither and thither across the bed. Eek!   As I readied myself for work: sandwich in bag, jacket on, car keys, phone, wallet ...I sat down to put my boots on...foot in...hang on? ...felt like there was something stuck in my boot...shake, shake...you guessed it, out plops a sizeable rodent. Eek eek! This has got to stop!   Our first ferrel cat would bring woodland creatures into the house, 'play' with them, then eat them (apart from voles). We thought our second ferrel cat was not into this hunter/gatherer behaviour. How wrong we were. She must have come of age as now brings in two or three mice daily, plays with them, then naffs off for a snooze. Leaving the mouse to scuttle off to some corner of the house. As I shuffle to the bathroom in t...

“We're going camping” Anna, my wife, announced one evening. She had been rootling in a cupboard and found our old family tent. So we were off to the Île de Ré for a night under the stars. The cat looked very confused as we lined up three meals for her in our absence. She seemed to think we had introduced a buffet system for her dining pleasure. Before we got in the car on Saturday morning she was well into Sunday morning's pouch.   When we rocked up to the campsite on the outskirts of Saint-Martin-de-Ré we were surprised to see how camping amenities had progressed since we last camped twenty years ago. Every pitch was ten metres square (hedged on three sides for privacy), had its own electricity point, light and water source. Ooh! There were washrooms, a shop and a café. This was nothing like the cow field in Cromer where we used to go; staggering, in darkness, to the one loo (serving 200 people) on the other side of the field... trying not to trip on a neighbour's guy rope...

Not only was the summer of 2023 a bumper year for tomatoes and blackberries at chez Shaw, but we have had a never ending supply of friends and family visiting. Happy memories abound even though the waistline, like the cost of living, has increased exponentially and we don't know when it will stabilise.   It was like a Chinese laundry at times, with all the washing hanging on the line; the bottle bank took a pounding as did the scum line around the top of the swimming pool, from all the suntan lotion.   It is one of the great pleasures of living in France, 'making memories' (as everyone seems to say these days) with family and friends, who we have enjoyed spending time with.   As children we went on several Canvas Holidays in Normandy/Brittany. Piling into the car, a hodgepodge of suitcases strapped dangerously to the roof rack with an elasticated octopus. We would take it in turns to go in the boot of our estate car, not a seat belt in sight, sliding about with rest of th...

We sat on the terrace drinking wine, stuffing crisps in our faces and marvelling at the thunder and lightening, and wondering if, like   Jean de Florette , the storm would pass us by without a drop of rain falling. How wrong we were...the heavens opened and hailstones the size of marbles started pelting down.   Anna, my wife, realised she had left the roof of her car down and disappeared into the night shrieking. Her screams emanated from the darkness as her little head (she has to buy hats for children of 4-6 years of age), was peppered from above. The next day as we assessed the damage I felt a sense of loss seeing all the roses and potted geraniums, which had been looking glorious in a riot of colour, decimated to stalks and shredded leaves. The vegetable patch, whose content I had nurtured from seed looked as if someone had strafed it with a machine gun. And the water lily resembled a Swiss cheese.   Still, it was a dramatic opening to my brother's visit. He was with ...

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...