Return visit

Last night we went for a drink at our old house. We were both more than a bit wary of returning and seeing all our hard work in other peoples' hands.

She's a lovely house but now we know what a rare thing she is. How rare is the glorious view over your own fields, peace and quiet. How well done up she is.

We sat in the garden and insisted that it was fine, she was too big for us, we wished we had found somewhere else but hey. Of course it didn't matter that the garden was full of weeds, how could it not be when they weren't there most (or any) of the time. A lot of the gaps were because of the extreme cold in the winter. (And the french gardener who has pulled out every self seeding cosmos, cornflower, nasturtium, forget me not and left gaps he will be paid to keep clear.)

The thing that really got me was the spotless white downstairs loo - that worked perfectly with toilet paper,basin, soap, towel - I could have sat there for days.

Our little rented house

We have been house hunting again on this trip. Another dozen to add to the dozens we have already seen.

Lovely houses blighted by some unbelieveable monstrosity, lovely houses way over priced, lovely houses where you don't own the view and another little white box (like our rented house) might be built in it, houses so weird you and the agent laugh outloud, houses that make you shake your head that someone could have done that to such a lovely looking house and just plain dull houses.

The original house we sold up for, we have given up on, and if it isn't an ancient house with a garden in the medieval hill top town, we don't want just any house in the town.

The 'what we had before but in its original state' was sold before we could get a second look. Yes I know the idea was to downsize but the location was spectacular.

We are going to look at a house being sold privately in a local village this morning. And keep coming back to one we saw last November which has come down lots in price.

But meanwhile we are renting a tiny house on a hill with the most glorious view, shaded by lovely trees, with wonderful birds all around.

Kind friends are composing a letter to the ageing Parisian owners to see if they will sell. You never know, maybe this is the year when they decide that the 6 hour drive is just too much and none of the children really want it..................................

And it is all about location, location, location.

La Belle France

I have been trying to recap on life this year in a couple of paragraphs and I give up. I'll just jump back in again and you'll have to pick up the pieces as we go along.

We arrived back in our little rented house back in France on Tuesday. It is soooo green and lush everywhere. When we left we were just sliding out of being snowed in and now it's summer.

We collapsed in a heap after a 14 hour trip in the same weather that M Hollande was in in Paris and in the morning woke to clear blue skies and sunshine. Bliss, it has been so rainy in England. On throwing open the back door there were 2 geraniums and half a dozen eggs on the table. Oh how kind. We are really living the cliche.

A bit later on the lady who had delivered them dropped in to tell us that her husband had cut the lawn twice - to discourage the burglars - and while he was there she had aired the house and cleaned the windows. She was very sniffy that she couldn't find the hoover (we had taken it back to England) so had shaken out the carpets as best she could.

Right, urgent shopping required for flowers and whisky.

Yesterday was a public holiday - one of many in May - and there are loads of tourists, and houses that are all closed up in the winter had shutters thrown open and voices calling. It's the first time since we moved here that I have felt like a tourist and not one of the locals. It felt very strange.

Internet

Well, here we are, middle of May and it has taken until now to get internet access in jolly old blighty! And we're back to France on Tuesday.

New computer, new blogger layout, new google layout, new new new new new

I will get back on line and my head back in gear, honest.

Arthur

The good news is that he is found. The not knowing had been horrible.

BUT the poor cat has been in the wars. The sweet man who brought him back said that his injuries were due to a trap. Totally illegal but used by some (I hesitate to call them people) to protect their hen houses.

After another trip to the vet where she operated he has had to have one back leg amputated and lost a toe from the other back leg. The vet says he'll be fine on three if he survives the infection in the other which he seems to be fighting well.

We have also had a visit from the countryside police - I can't remember the long french name - who were also appalled and strode off to locate the nearest hen houses.

And now the cat's disappeared

As we struggled to get the car out on Saturday morning, Arthur the cat shot out from underneath and disappeared into the wild blue yonder. He had just returned from too long away and then got a big shock. And we haven't seen him since.

What an empty house this seems.

The good side of this is that we went around the neighbourhood asking if anyone had seen him and met the nearest neighbours. And they were all delightful. The farmer's wife up the hill cleans for a friend of ours and had already popped in to say that her doors were wide open if we needed anything. Seems like she cleans for everybody around and knows everyone. Their house is a..may..zing, ancient and full of huge old furniture and the most wonderful french grandfather clock big enough to hide in. The view is breathtaking. Opposite us is a campsite and we were warmly welcomed into the kitchen by a couple and their son. Full of helpfulness and trying out their few words of english - were sure we would know one of their regulars who came from England and rushed off to find their address.

No luck with Arthur but lovely people.

Sweety

Poor old Sweety. Our lovely old rescue dog had to be put down this morning. She was a real Sweety. Very lovely to everyone (except small children and chickens).

She had had a tumour in her neck diagnosed at the beginning of December but up until yesterday she hadn't paid any attention to it at all. On Thursday she had a lovely two hour run in the snow, galloping along like a two year old and then gulping down her supper. But yesterday something changed and she didn't want to go out, couldn't get comfortable and then didn't want to eat either. Her head seemed too heavy to hold up.

We went to the vet (an event in itself with the snow) and she was put to sleep peacefully in the sunshine. The house seems very empty without her.