We are a grandmother again!

Chris, last night's chef, but also known as Dr Keyboard, kindly helped me update a website, before Jan and he left to go to Anduze and the Britnimes book club.

***

In the afternoon, Neil and Lawrence came to stay for a few days so I went to Nîmes to pick them up. Fortunately for me, they both enjoy football so we settled in front of the box to watch both World Cup quarter-finals. Germany march inexorably on and will meet Italy in one of the semi-finals next week. I've been saying it to anyone who will listen that historically the 'home' team always does well, so Germany must not be underestimated. They did look good.

***

Just after we had got to bed, Jan received the news that she is a grandmother for the second time. Congratulations to Rebecca (above) and Trevor on the safe arrival of another little girl.

Your own private chef

Bob and Lynne, and Chris and Delphine came round for lunch today. Jan knocked up gazpacho, ribs and home made ice cream. The top photo shows Chris, Delphine, Jan, Bob and Lynne munching away, and the middle photo is very rare footage of the beautiful Lynne, who hates to be photographed, with her lovely new hairdo. Sorry Lynne, but the world has to know!

***

Before everyone arrived, I cleaned all the patio doors, and did what I thought was a really good job. So much so, that when Jan decided to exit the study this afternoon she failed to see that the doors were shut. We had recently finished a long lunch so that could have been a contributing factor, who knows (pun intended). In case you're concerned, there was no damage to the doors, but you can see the damage to Jan's nose. Ouch!

***

After everyone had left, Chris showed off his new found skills by cooking dinner. We had:
Trilogie de tomate seche, chèvre et caviar d'aubergine (trilogy of dried tomatoes, goat cheese and aubergine caviar) avec son pistou (with pesto). Selle d'agneau avec son farce mousseline (saddle of lamb stuffed with mousse of chicken breast and cream), jus de roti (gravy) et legumes de saison (seasonal veg). Soupe de peche et glace au huile d'olive (peach soup with olive oil ice cream). A couple of observations about this, first it was all very, very, good, cooked to perfection. and the second we were very intrigued by the olive oil ice cream. Sounds strange but tastes fantastic. Thanks Chris, you are welcome to stay anytime. Just bring your apron and your knives!

Phew, what another scorcher

As I write, it is over 36C in the shade and it's difficult to know how to stay cool, especially when doing jobs around the house. I down tools and head for the pool because that's the only thing that really works. The pool temperature is 29C, with no additional help, and it's been like that for a couple of weeks, but it still cools you down. As someone said yesterday, "And it's still only June."

***

One of the small jobs that I had to attend to today was to create a fixing in the kennel to which I can attach a chain, to attach to Max. During the party on Sunday, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black shape wandering amongst the guests. We thought that they were both contained safely in the kennel but no, Max had decided to meet all the visitors. He doesn't often try to get out but, with one leap, he can if he really wants to. And this, despite the fence being nearly 6 feet high. I will eventually put a permanent roof on the run but until that time it has to be a chain. One side of me is irritated but one side of me is proud. That's my boy!

Oh go on, let me nibble your ear

For some time now we have been wondering whether Max was gay. Actually it was me that was concerned, being a (less than raging) heterosexual. We heteros have to stick together, don't you know. Pun intended! Anyway, there are some recent signs that he considers Minnie more than just a friend. (Do we really need to know all this? - Ed.) Jan gets quite upset at the thought of a) our first born, Max, 'growing up' and b) getting his leg over with Min, her innocent young baby. As you can see she is constantly 'making up' to him, so it must be difficult for him. Bless.

***

In order to clean the terrace of accumulated dirt and dog hair, I have found it easiest to hoover between the joints of the paving. Apart from looking like an idiot and despite blocking the hoover pipes a couple of times it is a relatively quick and easy way to make the terrace sparkle. There you go, today's household tip.

***

So there I am sitting outside, in the cool, on the sparkling clean terrace when I notice that by moving a lamp, a few inches to the left, inside the house I can watch the football on the television through a window. At the moment it is often cooler outside than it is inside so watch the fut I did, sitting outside. Things went well until I realised that by sitting there, I was merely providing breakfast, lunch and dinner for all the local insects. Ah well, it felt like a good idea.

I can't see why she isn't attracted to me

Whilst Jan went off to her art class this morning, I had an even nicer time doing bugger all. I could get good at this. In order to get a bit of air circulating whilst I played with a new camera (a Nikon Coolpix L4 - seeing as you asked) I opened the window. The noise from the cicadas was deafening. Talk about background traffic noise. One of the reasons why we moved away from England was to avoid the din. I really noticed how powerful the noise from cicadas can be when we were at Tyroliane last Saturday. We were leaving, and as we closed the car doors we shut the sound out. Instant peace and quiet. It was quite remarkable. OK, so what's the upside of the noise they make? Well, the males, who make the noise to attract a female, might get laid (I've tried it lads, and it doesn't work) or warmer weather. They tend to emerge in this part of the world when temperatures remain constant at 25C or over and it has been doing that for some time now. In fact today is the sixth day with temperatures at 32C or more.

***

I've had to keep this quiet, being privy to affairs of State, but my sometime tennis partner William Seguin has announced that he is standing for election to the Conseil Général, because the incumbent Christophe Bouchet has died. William is presently the maire of our village, président de la Communaté de communes Coutach Vidourle and vice président de l'association des Maires du Gard. Hungry for even more power, he has decided to stand for even higher office. I'm not too sure if we can vote in this election, which takes place on the 2nd and 9th of July (don't ask, I don't know why there are two dates), anyway, if we can we will because he is an extremely nice man, has a great sense of humour, regularly has coffee here and might one day be Président de la République. Watch me name drop then, mes braves!

***

The rest of the day was spent either in the pool, watching a poor Italian performace against an attractive Australian side or eating. I do most of these things extremely well!

Paella for 34, and easy on the prawns please chef

We had a humungous day today. First we have breakfast at 06.30 in order to get the guys (pictured below - during dinner the night before) off to Montpellier for their early morning flight back to London and then we high tail it back because we are hosting a French friend's 45th wedding anniversary.

***

Our French friends turn up at 09.30 to erect some shade and lay the tables. It's 32C in the shade so what do they chose for their main course - paella - Monsieur Chef turns up an hour beforehand and, after setting up his kitchen in full sun, he starts to cook his paella on the terrace. Admittedly it had already been part cooked but I bet a bit of honest French sweat fell in at some point (oh gross! - Ed.). Having said that it did taste good! In order to cheer my flagging spirits, I sneaked off to watch England struggle to beat Ecuador 1-0. Anyway, win we did (ah it's the royal we now! - Ed.) and the final plates were cleared and the tent pulled down at 19,30. Shattered, we stumbled to bed and slept for 11 hours. Bliss!

You're never over 45, are you?

Imagine the scene. I'm standing in Market Street in the middle of Manchester waiting for Jan. She approaches with the hugest of grins on her face.

"Que passa?" I said. She told me that she had been stopped by a woman conducting street surveys.
"Excuse me Madam," said the interviewer, but could I ask you about your hair products.
"Certainly," said Jan.
"First I need to ask you your age," said the interviewer.
"I have a bus pass," said Jan.
"I'm so sorry," said the interviewer, "I thought that you qualified but I'm looking for women under 45."

As you can imagine Jan (pictured above, as I like to remember her), was hugely flattered and hasn't stopped telling people, well, anyone that will stand still for an hour or two.

***

Whilst Jan stayed at home tending the flocks, I took the gang to market and to Tyroliane. Several of them attempted, and finished, the black run. This is seriously difficult and requires a huge amount of upper body strength. They completed it but boy were they tired at the finish.

***

Back home for more tennis and a bbq cooked by an expert, me! We started with gazpacho, prepared by Jan, a selection of meats cooked sur le barbecue, by me and Jan's famous chocolate soufflé. All this washed down with white from Domaine Arnal and an oak aged Merlot from Domaine de Baubiac. I slept well!

Cry God for Harry, England and St George

There was some discussion recently, on a forum that I visit, about flags and the general hysteria supporting the English football team. Last Tuesday in Manchester it was no exaggeration to say that about 20% of cars on the road were sporting at least 2 flags of St George, many houses were covered in flags and street sellers were doing a roaring trade. If you live in England and are fed up with all the fuss, then come to France. There just isn't the same passion or support for their team and I have seen no evidence of flag waving. Having said that the French team are not playing too well and things might improve if they make the final. Fat chance!

***

I've no idea how these guys do it. It's 33C in the shade and they hit tennis balls all afternoon. The other thing that amazes me is the amount of food they eat. No picking at lettuce leaves here, mes amis. As we have underestimated their collective appetite we head off for an additional top up shopping trip. Zut alors!

***

For dinner Jan prepared a melon and ham starter, oven baked salmon with a ginger, lime juice and coriander topping and a bread and butter pudding made with panetone. It all went!

Couscous

Up at 06.00 for the 09.30 flight to Nîmes. Yesterday was very hectic and I think that we were still running on the previous day's adrenalin. Gill and Glyn had been 'absolutely fabulous' hosts and we were very sorry to leave. Unfortunately we had to come back to Nîmes to pick up Floyd and his pals because their plane landed shortly after ours. Relaxing this was not. We managed an hours supermarket shop before dashing over to Montpellier to meet them. Whose idea was this?
Despite a 33C heat, these guys hit the tennis court and stayed out there until 20.30. It makes me ill just to think about it!
For dinner Jan rustles up, north African starters, a lamb and vegetable couscous and a very north African strawberry and cherry fruit salad. Well, she was two thirds of the way there! Boy, do these guys eat, so we already have another trip to the supermarket planned! It was less than 24 hours ago that we were having our eardrums bashed in Manchester. Pardon!

Pure Magic

Yesterday, as the plane flew over the Wirral towards Liverpool, it made a couple of attempts at landing at John Lennon Airport. At times it felt as if we would land on the mud flats of the Mersey, but land safely we did. Glyn met us off the plane and we then drove north to their delightful village not too far from Southport. This is country living at its English best.
This morning, Glyn showed us his commute into Manchester, down the M6, which was packed with traffic. It never fails to surprise me how busy the motorways are in Britain. This road is a short step from gridlock because one small incident would have meant hours of waiting for hundreds of cars. The UK government has prevaricated for years, but still collects the car road tax, and will have to deal with an enormous problem in the not too distant future.
One thing that Manchester has in abundance, that we lack in this part of France, is big shops, and Jan is now in her element. After dropping Glyn off at work we head towards the Trafford Centre. This place is huge, you want shops, they got shops, hundreds of em and some very appealing, like John Lewis! We spent a few hours checking out what we needed, before buying it, and then headed over to Manchester centre to find Printworks. Printworks because Glyn had told us that we could eat at Wagamama. They have several places in London, at which we liked to eat, so it was good news that they had opened one in t'north. I can't remember what we ate but Jan's white chocolate and ginger cheesecake and my wild berry sorbet were just excellent. Recommended.
Later this afternoon we had to meet up with Glyn and Gill and we had rather stupidly forgotten that England were playing Sweden, so finding a quiet, pleasant bar proved to be quite difficult. Until we chanced across 'Puremagic'. Why was this bar empty, smoke free and very appealing? The cynic in me thought that maybe it was too upmarket and smoke free for the typical football crowd. The real reason was that they had no television, smoking was not allowed but more interesting of all, it was a magic bar. The PureMagic Bar, The Printworks, Withy Grove, Manchester 0161 819 7770 was great fun and an excellent place to while away a couple of hours. Magic tricks, performed at the bar or at your table made it an excellent oasis, prior to us all walking over to the Manchester Evening News Arena, to see The Eagles in concert. If you are an Eagles fan you will understand how good they were (click on the link and navigate to hear their music), if you have yet to hear them you'd better hurry up because they all looked bloody old to me.

Pay attention at the back

Yesterday was mostly spent doing general maintenance in preparation for visitors, next week. Why so early I hear you say. Well, because we are popping over to Liverpool today to see the Eagles in concert tomorrow and we return a couple of hours before our guests arrive on Wednesday. Everything has to be shipshape by then. Are you paying attention to all this rubbish? (More to the point do we want to know all this rubbish? - Ed.)

Strange feelings

So there I was expecting to support the new bar, in the market place in Sommieres, but it had failed to open. That was the first disappointment of the day. Sitting at another bar, that was obviously open, and watching the world go by, I got this very strange feeling (Oh please, not one of them? - Ed.). I started to feel very negative towards the hordes of tourists invading this pretty little market town. Not so long ago, I was one of those tourists so it's illogical of me to feel like that. Hmnnnn, I surprised myself. Where has that come from?

***

Having done a recce at the Parc d'Aventure Tyroliane for next week's visitors, I popped into the Cave Cooperative in St Christol to try some of their goodies. This is a very good wine making village so I fancy that the cave should be above average. Not having the time to taste anything, I brought a few bottles away to taste at home. Watch this space.

A hot sultry curry

It had been a hot, very sultry day and so what better thing to do than go for a hot sultry curry. Reading The Languedoc Page forum, a few people had mentioned a curry house in Lunel that was providing an 'English style' curry, like wot mother used to make, or more precisely like 'The Taj Mahal' used to make.
One board member, BonnyYewTree, invited partners for a visit, so Jan and I volunteered. We have so far been very disappointed with the quality of ethnic food in this area, so a curry house that was getting good reviews had to be checked out.
Le Palais des Roses, 323 bvd St-Fructueux, 34400 Lunel, 0467 83 03 24, is the best restaurant Indien that we have found so far. The friendly proprietor, who speaks English, will adapt your meal to better suit English tastes. I asked him for a dish that was not on the menu and he agreed to cook it. It wasn't a bad effort. Because we were on a 'blind date', meeting some really nice people for the first time, not enough time was devoted to the menu, so we will have to go back, but first appearances suggest that this place should definitely be revisited. Having said that, we are making a flying visit to Manchester next week and have been promised a visit to 'Curry Mile' in Rusholme. Now that's what I call a curry!

Where's the Hallal butcher when you need one?

William failed to show up this morning. Probably because I gave him such a sound beating on Monday but more likely because he is mulling over his political future at the moment and is considering whether to present himself for other high office. He has a lot on his mind - bless.

***

I must be one of the few people I know who actually enjoys going to the dentist. (Is this the best you can do? - Ed.) I particularly enjoy having my teeth cleaned. You come out able to feel all the gaps in your teeth. Lovely! We also used the trip into Quissac to see if we can find a Hallal butcher. It's less about me trying to get Jan into a burkha (above) and more that we have a hallal meat eater visiting next week and we need to know where to shop. Find one we do, recently opened, right on the high street in Quissac. In searching for a picture of a burkha, I came across a picture of a camel trainer on his mobile. I'm not sure why I found this amusing, but I do.

***

This afternoon we visited the Notaire for the official signing on the Compromis de Vente on our little house in the village. The procedure for buying and selling a house in France can be found here and it is quite straightforward and slightly less stressful than the English system. Anyway, this part of the process involved buyer and seller sitting in front of Maitre S whilst he goes through the contract, line by line, and satisfying himself that everyone knows what they are letting themselves in for. Fair but boring, especially as it ate into 20 minutes of the England match with Trinidad and Tobago. After a very frustrating and stressful 65 minutes of frankly poor play, England started to show a bit more flair and wrapped it up 2-0. What is it with these so called world class footballers? They certainly like to hide their talent!

***

A few weeks ago, we received an invite to the re-opening of our favourite local restaurant, Le Fourneau de Clelia (Madame Chef has been ill). The few gatherings of this type that we have been to, show the French as a very hungry bunch and they do not stint when it comes to a free table. It appeared to us that what food had been put out had gone by the time we arrived and fresh stocks were surrounded by hordes, 10 people deep. We booked for Sunday night then we left and found a pizza place in Quissac!