Christmas

 

Christmas

For me Christmas is all about children, contact with friends and family and gourmet eating and drinking. Believe it or not there is room for spirituality in there, if not religion. It may sound hedonistic but, for me, it is not.

In the absence of children and family it reduced to contacts, eating and drinking. In principle all this should be good but the contacts at my time of life always has a potential sad edge. I contacted my family on Christmas morning and all were well and preparing to enjoy their Christmas lunches. But what of those from whom I have heard nothing? When, many years ago, I was working as a volunteer at the Oxfam bookshop in Reading, the manageress said that if any of the older volunteers did not turn up when expected she just assumed they had died. If that was a bit cold-blooded it was not an unreasonable assumption. I shall of course follow up on my “absentees” but with a little trepidation.

Christmas began early for me, on the 13^th of December to be precise, when I went to the Christmas dinner organised by the Amitié Mollanaise. Smoked salmon, foie gras and confit de canard were all on offer and gratefully consumed. The village was already decked out with its Christmas lights, in blue and white, colours dear to the heart of a Chelsea football club supporter (but the less said about that perhaps the better).

On Christmas eve friend Sylvie invited me to join her and her extended family for their Christmas meal, again enjoyable for her daughter is a good cook, centred on pork and with enjoyable company to boot. The evening introduced me to what may be what may be a general practice or simply a family one. The children got their presents but not the adults. The adults don’t exchange presents but add some trinket to a collection for which they “fish” the next day. I must find out how common this is.

On Christmas day itself I went to Daniel’s for lunch with assorted friends; prawns, oysters and roast lamb. So on Boxing day it was down to me. I invited seven friends which meant that for space we had to eat in the large terrace room upstairs and also meant I got some of the exercise needed to burn off the calories consumed on the previous two days, carrying dishes up and down two floors. I’d bought prawns, oysters and a cold chicken and prepared some salads. We started with champagne and one of my friends had bought a good bottle of Gigondas to which I added a Gevrey Chambertin and a Pouilly Fumée. A friend also brought the traditional Yule log. So what’s not to like?

All in all that was a somewhat hectic Christmas but definitely an epicurean and enjoyable one. I think my stomach needs a rest for a few days. As to the 31^st, nothing is yet decided. It remains for me to follow up on those from whom I have heard nothing, with a little trepidation.

I’ve no idea what the new year will bring but, for myself, little if any deterioration in my vision and hearing. For others I wish peace, comfortable survival if prosperity is not a prospect, and goodwill.

Christmas Letter And Rip-off Country

 

It’s that time of year so here is my Christmas letter to friends.

Christmas Letter

So it’s been a year of mixed fortunes but not a bad one. In fact there have been a number of positives in it, the most significant being that I’m still alive. The downside is that I can’t say the same for some good friends and relatives. That’s how life goes now.

My family are all well, happy and successfully doing the various things that they do in their lives. That is a definite and the most important positive.

The world…….. ? I think I’d better leave that to what you want to make of it. Could be better ? Certainly. Beyond that you can make up your own mind but efeating the extreme right-wing demagogues, funded by the obscenely wealthy, present in most countries seems to me a priority.

All of which reduces to me. Well…...I still think I am lucky and privileged to be where I am.

My deteriorating eyesight has meant I have had to give up driving and my hearing is on ongoing battle so I have had to make considerable use of medical services here which I have found excellent. It has also meant reduced indpendence and more reliance on friends who have similarly proved extremely helpful.

What makes me still want to get up in the morning ? As ever it is boules, gardening, football and writing. I also continue to give the free English conversation lessons in the Mairie.I haven’t done anything of note except going to see my family in the UK, a trip that was very enjoyable if not very long; they all lead busy lives that I can interrupt for only a short time and my limited mobility means that there is not much scope to stay and explore the surroundings by myself. But I found London to Avignon by train in 6 hours 10 minutes impressive.

So for most of the year it comes down to ……..

I’ll deal with football first. It may not surprise you to know that I no longer play. However I do watch, avidly on TV, especially when my team, Chelsea is playing. An aunt took me to see them play when I was 10 and that became a lifelong loyalty. I once saw a survey that found that men changed their loyalty to football teams less often than they changed their wives and so it has been with me.

On the boules front I still play regularly and most of the time quite successfully if not to the standard that helped me win tournaments in the past. I now sometimes need help knowing exactly where the cochonet is.

Gardening has been a mixed experience. The floral display in front of my house has been as successful as usual and appreciated by all in the village. The allotment was not as successful as last year, although still useful. I’m not sure why, a number of factors could contribute, but that’s how it turned out. I’ll hope to do better next year (as all gardeners do)

Which leaves writing. There I can point to one definite success. The guide for visitors to Mollans which I wrote and published, with a lot of help from friends Claudine and Jacques, has sold well and should make the hoped for 1700-1800 euros for the school here over the next couple of years. Apart from that I have been writing an autobiography, largely for my grandchild, a kind of apologia of me and my ancestors, so that she in later years may understand how life was lived in the last 80 years or so. I have also continued a project to write a response to Voltaire’s « Lettres Philosophiques » on the English from the opposite point of view. As ever Claudine, my faithful critic and nterpreter, is in tow. I’m not sure what I’ll do with these when finished, print them as a vanity exercise or just leave them in electronic form. I’ll decide that later and, anyway, the reesarch and interest are justification for me in themselves and appease my obsession to keep writing.

So that’s my year. I hope yours has been as fulfilling and happy. And let me wish you and yours a happy Christmas and new year. My Christmas won’t be with family because they all have a number of considerations and priorities with which to juggle and to which I don’t want to add ; but it will be with many good friends.

Rip-off country

Viewing a recent TV programme on Norway made clear to me some of the reasons why the UK is a mess. One thing Norway and the UK have in common is that both are outside the EU; but that is about the only thing the countries have in common. Norway stayed out to protect it’s fishing industry, integral to its economy. The UK came out because the country accepted being conned. Important to both countries economies is north sea oil. Norway has kept most of the proceeds in the hational coffers and still has them: the UK gave most of them away to private shareholders and they have disappeared into private pockets (and possibly tax shelters). The Norwegian economy also depends heavily on the export of wood which it culls from extensive forests which it is expanding whilst culling. The UK once had extensive forests but these have long disappeared. Norways train network, which is nationalised, runs through much of the most difficult terrain in the world, featuring snow, ice and mountains, with 90% punctuality. The UK train network, which is mostly privatised, faces no such challenges and struggles ti get above 80% punctuality. The Norwegian tax regime is one of the highest in the world; the UK tax regime is middling and governments strive to get it lower. Norway has abundant water, the supply is nationalised and is harnesses for hydroelectric power; the UK has has abundant water, the supply is privatised and a lot of it is lost in floods and trough leaky water pipes. So which country is moving in the better direction? And what are the lessons?

Back From Scotland

 

Back From Scotland

I had been looking forward to the trip to the UK but not the journey there. I had decided to do it by train, as last year, Avignon – Lille – London – Glasgow, and in the event it was easy. I’d booked assistance at Euston and Glasgow as I had a heavy case and the trains can be very long; lugging a case with two wheels the length of a long platform, a possible 18 carriage-lengths, was at the limit of what I could manage. However I was in the middle of the train for the Eurostar connection to London and so had to trundle the case only 9 carriage-lengths at St Pancras. I’d tried booking assistance at Lille and London St Pancras but the system defeated me. I resolved the problem when in Glasgow by buying a case with 4 wheels. The journey back from London to Avignon was again impressive, 15 minutes shorter than last year at only six and a quarter hours. Although I didn’t then know it my glimpses of sun on departing northern France were the last time I would see it until my return. It wasn’t cold in England or Scotland but, boy, was it cloudy.

Natalie met me at Glasgow and so my stay started. The next day we went to the local garden centre for breakfast, the mandatory Scottish morning soft roll (mine with back bacon), and I bought presents for friends here and plants for Natalie’s garden. Much of the time during the stay was spent around the house but on the Sunday we went to Eddlestone to see Steve and Jo and, as arranged, René and Armelle who were visiting. René and Armelle were staying at the local pub so we went there for lunch. That is where I had the fish and chips I have to have at least once when I come over. It was good to see them both again. Armelle, it seemed was the braver, having had haggis for breakfast. When they left Mollans they had given me a picture so I reciprocated by giving them one,a framed image of a scene from the Rubayat of Omar Khayam painted on bone which I had purchased in Esfahan in Iran 50 years earlier. They weren’t familiar with Omar Khayam or the Rubayat but will no doubt be doing the Internet searches. A poem about love and wine should ring bells with any French person.

On the Monday, on an impulse, I bought Eilidh a large cardboard castle construction kit. It proved an inspired move. The castle was large enough for Eilidh to get inside and needed colouring all around it. That was where Eilidh resided for most of the rest of my stay and the colouring still hadn’t been completed, despite help from Natalie, Andy and me, when I left. Eilidh had decided she would be a bat for Halloween so I bought her some bats’ ears and stickers and thought the castle should be Bat Castle. However Eilidh decided it should be Primary Palace and who am I to argue?

We didn’t do a lot on my birthday itself although I had some lovely presents from my family but the afternoon was given over to gardening, planting the bulbs and plants I had bought on my first day there. In the evening we had the ritual cake. There wasn’t enough room on it for 84 candles so Natalie had placed 4 and, to my shame, I had to have two goes to blow them all out.

On my last day in Scotland we went to the Transport Museum which was having a children’s day, having to find small effigies of people hidden amongst the exhibits. Glasgow really has some fine museums, as well as parks, a world away from the grubby industrial centre I had known 50 years before.

As always it was great to be with the family again, if only for a few days. Eilidh seemed to have shot up inches between July and then.

I left on Thursday and went meet my son Carl and friend Margaret for lunch the next day. Unfotunately Margaret had brochitis and couldn’t make it so Carl ended up with the cheese, olives and lavender essence I had bought for Margaret. I expect Carl’s girlfriend will at least appreciate the lavender essence. I was pleased to find Carl fit and on form and we had a good chat as well as a good meal at Zedel, a French restaurant in the heart of Piccadilly. It’s an amazing place with the restaurant three storeys underground which served as a bomb shelter during WW2 for people letting their hair down in the area.

On my return (to the sun again!) I was met by Jacques and Claudine at Avignon TGV and we had a meal in Malaucène on the way home. I couldn’t face unpacking my case entirely then but just extracted the necessities and went to bed.

Sylvie came round the next day with some things she’d looked after while I was away and insisted we celebrated my birthday here also. So this Thursday she, Sophie and Daniel and Jacqueline came round for a meal of sausages and mash, the sausages I’d brought with me from the UK. I’d put bottles of Worcester and HP brown sauce on the table, both alien to France, and Sophie fell in love with the HP sauce; so I’ll have to buy her a bottle the next time I go to a supermarket and can find it.

From now on it should be life as usual. A colloquial French term for grandparents is “les chicoufs”. It’s chic when grandchildren come to stay and ouf when they depart. I think I’ve done the ouf, but have no idea when the chic came; as every body who knows me knows, it’s not me. I must have somehow done that already.

Gardening, Politics And Rebooting

Gardening

Somewhat to my surprise there is still a decent floral dislay in the front. The red sages I planted a year ago are in full bloom, as is a solanum in a pot by the front door. One hanging basket has petunia has surfinas still in bloom and there is another on the balcony. And the argyranthemum is providing its usual golden autumn show to add to the blue and red. I planted a half dozen Nepeta in troughs in the summer and these I’ve moved across the road where they are still blooming. So it’s all looking quite good for the time of year. I’ve lifted and pruned about half the irises across the road and am not sure whether I’ll get around to the other half. I’ve decided that next year I shall no longer use troughs ; they need too much watering and I’m not getting any younger.

The allotment is ready for closing down for the winter. I’ve already culled all the tomatoes and made chutney with the green ones but there is still the celery to be had. That apart it’s ust a question of clearing out the debris, which I shall do on Saturday. The shallots, garlic and leeks for next year are already planted.

Politics Again

In France the next elections are looking like a gift-horse for Marine Le Penn or her chosen acolyte if she is not allowed to stand. It’s not clear what anyone can do about it other than by a large and broad coalition of the centre and left and that looks unlikely.

In the UK a recent poll fore cast a victory for Reform and a government headed by Nigel Farage, God help us. Fortunately a new election is 4 years away and little is likely to change that, even the saying that a week is a long time in politics. Unfortunately intermediate bye-elections are likely to see Reform gains in members of Parliament. Unless these new members make complete fools of themselves, or even if they do as is quite probable, the Reform bandwagon looks set to continue. What can stop it ?

I can think of only one thing and that is to change the current political narrative, which is all about immigration. It would mean centre and left politicians of all parties, whilst acceping that immigration is an issue, forcing a focus on economic and social issues. The economy would not be fertile ground at the moment but that could change. Social issues and the cost of living are where Reform is at its weakest and they could be a way to change the olitical narrative. But these issues would have to be forced into the debate. Invited to comment on immigration, as all MPs often are, centre and left MPs need to interject on every occasion that important social issues are not being adequately addressed and need to be. The centre and left media would need to take up the baton too.

Would that do it ? I can’t think of any other strategy that curreently could.

I believe that the immigration problem in Europe can be solved only by a Europe-wide strategy. The EU seems to be dragging its heels on this and yet the very existence of the EU could be at stake. Does the EU fully realise this ?

The Eternal Reboot

My computer printer seems to have a life of its own. No paper ? Yes there is paper in the tray ; it still insists there isn’t. Not connected ? Yes it is connected. So what do I do ? I reboot it. Then it is a happy printer. When my PC locks up (a so-called transient error : no one knows what is going on) what do I do ? I reboot it. When I have an electricity cut what do I do. I reboot it to see if it’s an appliance or EDF. I think rebooting has become an essential part of life.

Summer Visit And Politics

Summer Visit And Politics

Natalie and family ame to visit this summer as usual and I think enjoyed their holiday doing nothing very much but swimming and, Andy, cycling. I was pleased that the front of the house was in full bloomwhen they arrivedand we sat for a while on the bench in front as they arrived too early to go directly into the gite. He photos below are of the front of the house and their visit. 

They took back with them the two old figures sitting on a bench (i told Eilidh they were her mum and dad when they will be my age) and the spinning wheel which I had bought at the Telethon auction. I bought the spinning wheel because I thought it a beautiful piece of wooden machinery. But I thought that, rather than here it belongs in Scotland where there is a tradition of spinning wool, especially in the islands.

Politics

I’m still struggling to understand French politics, which seem much more complicated than their British counterparts. The sheer number of political parties is in itself daunting. For me at this time the political imperative is to ensure that the far right does not gain majority power. I feel that the wealth imbalance in the developed world, let alone the less developed countries, threatens something akin to feudalism if the far right gains power. And wider war in Europe becomes a stronger possibility.

To gain power far right parties exploit stupidity which, as Bonhoeffer has pointed out, is the hardest obstacle to counter. However it means that there is a depth of stupidity in their power base that will be shunned by a majority using at least some ntellect so the only intelligent people who will be attracted to them are those who seek power at any price, the Goebels of the world. I have found comfort in the idea that power and wealth alone don’t imply any coherent set of domestic policies and I have always presumed that, given some small measure of power, far right party representatives will openly display their inadequacies and thus won’t gain more power. A strong focus on nationalism gets you only so far.

This would seem to be the case in Britain and the USA at the moment. But can I be sure that this will always hold true ?

At base my contention is that far right parties cannot succeed in a democracy, they will be shown to be inadequate and that to succeed they need a dictatorship. I think that whether this is true or not depends on the level of stupidity (and irrationality and prejudice) present in a society. A colleague of mine once said that we plumb the depths of oceans and space but the depths of human stupidity have never been plumbed. 

The Book And The Meal

 

The Book Is Out

On Tuesday friends Daniel and Gérard took me to the printers to collected the printed books, 300 copies. I’ve since distributed them to the tourist shop, the tourist office, the Bar du Pont and the baker’s and I’ve put up two posters. There’s quite a bit mre to do but it’s a start.

I’ve set myself a goal of selling 100 copies by the end of August. If I achieve that the costs of the book will be covered and there will be more or less 200 copies to sell for the school, which has the potential to raise more or less 2000 euros.

Fingers crossed.

The Street Meal

On Sunday we had the annual meal in the street when everyone brings something for others to eat. This year, as last, I brought along a baklava and a coronation chicken. Both were completely eaten and I got a number of compliments incluing one from Audrey who also makes a curry to sell from her food cart and asked for the recipe. So that really was a compliment.

I also managed to sell four books. Selling the books is preoccupying me now but Claudine has warned me to back off. I’d gone into the tourist shop on Saturday and none had been sold. A man came into the shop when I was there so I picked up a book, showed it to him and he bought it. I complained to Claudine about the lack of salesmanship in the shop and she poited out that that wasn’t allowed. The lady in charge, Magali, had to be impartial and couldn’t promote one item over others. That was news to me so I shall indeed back off. Softly, softly catchee monkey.

It's June

 

It’s June

It’s June so I really need to write an update to my blog and that is just what this is.
On the flowers around the house the work is more or less done (more on that later) and the compliments have been flowing so that is gratifying. The roses are more or less over, as is the honeysuckle, but the jasmine has started blooming so the scent on the balcony is maintained. I need to replace some pansies that have been in a trough since winter but that is mostly it.

The allotment has needed watering every other day but that is mostly it too. I have lettuces and rocket at the moment, also some chillis, and a bit of weeding to do. The garlic has been harvested and is a reasonable if not generous crop. The rest is planted with the usual selection of vegetables. The unexpected development is that where I planted bean seeds I seem to have a crop of sunflowers. I’ve no idea how that happened but they all look strong and healthy. I’m going to have to remove a lot of them and propose to transplant several of them into spaces in front of my house. I’ve no idea if that will work but I’m going to try it. Earlier this week I had the English conversation participants here at home and it’s possible they will take some when we have our final meeting before the summer break over at the allotments.

On that front the work on the scrapbook we have been doing is almost complete and next week I hope to be able to take the scrapbook to the Mairie for display in the hope of attracting more students.

The book, THE BOOK, the visitors’ guide to Mollans, is with the printers and should be available in early July. Most of the shops in the village are happy to sell it without commission and I’ve made a poster advertising it to place in camping sites around. I need to sell around 120 copies to get my costs back but if and when that happens it should make around 1800 euros for the village school. For me that will be a good result.

With all this going on boules as taken a back seat I’m afraid. And I need a new project for nextwinter.