Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Lisbeth tells a story

This is the story that she told me. It is in her own words:

"See, in your mind's eye, an old single-storied farmhouse on the outskirts of a small hamlet in central France. The overgrown track makes the approach difficult and indicates that it has not been lived in for some considerable time.

Inside, the ceilings are low and the beams are huge; on the floor, throughout, are original terracotta tiles. There are two main rooms. The one on the right, with the big fireplace at the end, was clearly used as the main living space. Dominating the room, on the left, is a sturdy, roll-end, wooden bed. Piles of aged, carefully folded linen cover most of its surface; some sporting the initials of the previous owners created in neat, white embroidery. On the right is a long wooden kitchen table surrounded by fragile chairs with rush-seats. Next to the bed is a cupboard and next to that, just fitting in between the beams is a grandfather clock.

The clock is charming in its rustic simplicity, although many would see it as too rough to take seriously. The case is crudely made from cheap, thin pine and painted a tanish brown colour; very similar to the paint used in England, years ago, as a way of hiding the paucity of similar, poor quality, wood. The original glass in the arched window in front of the face is cracked but still in place. The long window in the body of the clock, vaguely barometer-shaped, stretches downwards to reveal the long pendulum. This, too, has the original glass, barely clinging to the internal securing points. Half way down, the glass is broken and a piece is missing.

The white enamel face offers the only splash of brightness as it stands proud of the cheap, paper-thin, yellow metal surround. Where the surround extends upwards, it forms a crude relief, over the circular face, depicting a farmer ploughing with his oxen. Resting inside the hood, on the right, is the small z-shaped winding implement.

The large pendulum has also seen better days. It is simply made, with a few rods of turned steel, alternating with lengths of plain brass, and ending in a lyre-shaped decoration above the circular, sun-shaped base. Unsurprisingly, this sunny circle has a large dent on the right hand side. Behind the pendulum, and fully wound, wait two very heavy, grey metal weights. When the pendulum is set in motion, the mechanism slides effortlessly into life and starts ticking. It has the slow, reassuring, rhythm of home and hearth; of time passing and seasons turning; of lives that are over and old ways lost.

According to the young woman, it was her grandfather's house and her great grandfather's clock which has stood in this same position for as long as she can remember. It is dusty and full of cobwebs. The clock is for sale because her grandparents have died and the house has been sold."


Monday, July 30, 2007

The tall writer goes jigsaw

The cow that ticks and turns has been promoted. He now waits, not in the cupboard, but on top of the cupboard so that he can watch the comings and goings of the kitchen. He says that the new visitor, Mr Writer, is very tall. He was telling me that, when Mr Writer washes up, his back hurts because the sink is French height (low, for small people) and Mr Writer is over 6ft tall.

The tall writer is doing a jigsaw on the table on the veranda at the moment. It is a painting by Monet: Woman with a Parasol. He selected this jigsaw for its French connection. Lisbeth stops by from time to time to do a bit as well.

Sunday, July 29, 2007

Grazing Saddles

This saddle thing has cropped up again. You will remember that Mr Dancer was suggesting that I had some sort of saddle made for my back so that when he sat next to me on the veranda, he would have somewhere to put his gin&tonic. You may also remember that I was not at all impressed by such a suggestion. Well, now Lisbeth has brought it up again. She said that Mr Dancer did have a point because there isn't anywhere to put your gin&tonic and I am just the right height and perfectly positioned for a right-handed person sitting in the chair in the corner of the veranda.

As it's Lisbeth who has mentioned it this time, I am reconsidering it. She works very hard and I wouldn't have a life in France, if it weren't for her bringing me over; then there's the talking practice that we have. So, if it will encourage her to sit with me of an evening, then it might be worth considering. However, it would have to be stylish and easily removable when not in use.

Lisbeth has asked. I will consider.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

P.S. From the cow that ticks and turns

He's just popped out to ask me to tell you that he doesn't only tick and turn. He rings as well. And depending on the size of the turn, the ring can be long or short. The ring is to tell Lisbeth that the time is up. He isn't working today but expects to be on a big job over the weekend or early in the week. He thinks it's something to do with Green Baby Chutney and was getting worried about it. I have been able to reassure him on that score, as I happen to know that it isn't made from real babies.

His only other news is that he has a new waiting place in the kitchen as Mr Dancer did some reorganizing of Lisbeth's cupboards while he was here.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

The cow that ticks and turns

Well, here he is: the cow that ticks and turns. He ticks quite loudly and he will turn all the way round if you wind him up enough. He has been very busy lately as there has been a lot of cooking and freezing to time. He likes to work otherwise he has to stay in the cupboard.

He's actually outside for this photo, on the window ledge. He enjoyed that because he could just look around and not have to tick and turn.

Mrs Mop goes Dervish

Lisbeth is doing her whirling dervish thing all over the place. She was down the garden weeding and tidying at 6.30 am and has been cleaning in the house, once the Big Builder was up and running on the next job. Work is progressing well: inside, outside and in the big builder's department. And the sun is shining. Enfin! (That's 'at last' in French.)

My own contribution to the dervish activity, this afternoon, is to monitor the little clockwork cow that is timing the freezing of the beans. After blanching them, Lisbeth cools them in water and then lays them on metal trays in the freezer so that they freeze individually and fast. I'm monitoring the second lot. Lisbeth has already done two lots of broccoli. The little cow ticks and turns and, at this very moment, there are 14 minutes of the 45 to go. Tick tock!

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

The Visitor Hoedown

Take your vis'tor by the hand
Listen to the hoedown band
Partners dancing two by two
Swing your vis'tor round and through

Make a star, then let it go
Know the steps and do-si-do
Face to face and back again
Sing along with the refrain

Form a circle, turn about
Watch the vis'tor whoop and shout
Join the fun out here in France
And watch this rubber-ducky dance

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

Between visitors

We are in the gap between visitors at the moment so I have been reviewing those so far this year and those due.

First, we had Bob with whom I was able to discuss the more serious aspects of life, the universe and personality etc. Then there was Mr Dancer. He was much deeper than you might think. He's also a bit of a cool mover, as you'd expect, (and a gin and tonic expert.) On Friday, Mr Writer arrives. He writes books, articles and all sorts of stuff. He writes better than I do, of course, so I will be hoping for a few tips while he's here. (Bob is a writer as well but it seemed somehow nicer to call him Bob. I don't know why. I just like saying 'Bob' and it suited him, anyway.)

So.....I'm surrounded by arty and intelligent people. How lucky do I feel? Wool-wobblingly lucky. ( Try saying it!)

That being said, they don't always spend as much time with me as I would like. However, if it's fine and they eat under the fig, then I am strategically placed to participate in, or just listen to, the conversations. Later on, I can ruminate (on what they say, of course. Not physically! I am doing talking practice after all, so I'm a bit above just chewing and stuff!)



Monday, July 23, 2007

It's not all sun and warm wool, you know!

I might just as well be living here on my own, the amount I'm seeing Lisbeth these days. First, she was unwell; then it was the bad weather necessitating her working down the garden whenever she could; then the visitors, now it's the big builder.

Every day, she is doing things to keep ahead of him in either decisions or in going to fetch stuff. I think that she will have to go to Poitiers tomorrow to get the work surfaces as they didn't have any when the big builder was buying all the stuff. It is a shame, really, because it will take at least half a day and then there are the costs. Also, Lisbeth doesn't want to go as she has tons to do before the next visitor - Mr Writer - arrives on Friday. Usually, she is well prepared in the garden and in house but this year he'll have to take her as he finds her as there is no way she can catch up before Friday.

As Lisbeth is so busy, I am left to mull over life, the universe and everything on the veranda, looking out at the unripening figs (too wet) and the regular bouts of rain. Well, I would be looking at the figs, except some days there is washing hanging on the veranda, which blocks my view, as it is either too wet or too unreliable to put it down the garden.

Life in France eh! It's not all sun and warm wool, you know!

Sunday, July 22, 2007

More proof of ovine intelligence

As it's Sunday and Lisbeth is having a quiet day doing not very much, I have been surfing the net and found an article about sheep in Yorkshire who have worked out how to negotiate 8ft (3m) cattle grids so that they can graze in people's gardens. They lay down and roll until they are on the other side.

I am only bringing this story to your attention because there was some discussion, sometime ago, about we ovines being much more intelligent than you think we are, and I'm not sure that you all took it sufficiently to heart.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

The Roofer's Wedding

Lisbeth went to a wedding today: one of the people who worked on her roof last year. This is the view from her bedroom window.

Lisbeth says that French weddings are really nice because they are much more relaxed than UK ones. She was invited to the ceremony in the Mairie at 2.30pm, then the church, then to Le vind'honneur (drink and nibbles) on the lawn in front of La salle des fetes. She said that she was very happy (and touched) to have been included because there were only one or two other English people invited. She got home at 6pm, having drunk quite a lot of very nice punch!

Friday, July 20, 2007

If I were a blackbird

If I were a blackbird I'd not be a sheep
I wouldn't have wool and my voice wouldn't bleat
A blackbird can sing so I'd have to take note
of the myriad songs and look after my throat

I think I'd enjoy all that flying around
Seeing all kinds of things (and the sheep on the ground)
But I wouldn't be able to graze pastures new
Nor, I suppose, make a friend of ewe

So if I were a blackbird I'd think life was great
as I flew in the skies and sang on the gate
But I'd miss all my friends and my tight woolly coat
And my four slender legs and the blog 'what I wrote'

Thursday, July 19, 2007

The Big Builder starts work

Lisbeth's builder is here today. He is revamping the kitchen in the flat. However, before he can start the actual kitchen, he has been working on the floor because it squeaks and makes a lot of noise when people walk on it. This drives Lisbeth nuts when she's in the room below.

This photo shows the kitchen space after he has taken out the old bit of a kitchen, lifted the floor, put two layers of insulation in the cavity underneath and started to put back the boards.

According to Lisbeth, the floor-work done by the previous owner leaves something to be desired but (after discussion with the big builder) is not bad enough to redo from scratch. Unfortunately it is all going to cost more, but you have to do what you have to do.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

A fridge too far

Lisbeth has taken delivery of her second new fridge. It is her second because the first one got scratched entering the house. It was also sporting a sort of long dent along one side near the bottom. Because of these two blemishes, Lisbeth asked for a replacement. After waiting a week, the second one was delivered today. Because of the damage last time, Mr Dancer helped the delivery man unload it and bring it, carefully, into the house.

So why am I telling you all this? Well, I'm giving a bit of context to what the delivery man said. He admitted the scrape along the side at the top of the first fridge was his fault. However, he was adamant that the long dent near the bottom was already on the fridge by the time that he (the delivery man) took it out of its wrapping outside the house. Lisbeth disputed this as the packing was thick so she couldn't understand how it could possibly get a dent in it while still in its packing. The delivery man then explained that all white goods are loaded on to the delivery van at the depot by a little truck with grabbers. Each item is clamped between the grabbers for lifting and it is this clamping movement that dents one or both sides of each fridge, cooker, freezer etc., so all white goods arrive at the customer's home with dents in them!

There's customer service for you!

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Firing the Grid

Mr Dancer has recovered a lot of lost ground with me, today, because he encouraged Lisbeth to join him in 'Firing the Grid'. The 'firethegrid' event took place with people all over the world at 11.11 GMT - 1.11 here in France. (If the site won't work it's because of overload today as so many people accessed it at the same time.) What you humans were asked to do was to spend the hour sending out positive energy to the planet to heal it by meditating, praying, thinking positive thoughts etc. You chose whatever felt most appropriate. I know this sounds a bit flakey but it isn't really. Animals are still in the grid. It's just you humans who have become separated and are harming the earth.

Mr dancer's contribution was to write and draw. I also heard him saying he would use Streisand? I don't know if this is a technique or something but he spent the hour near me writing and drawing and wearing some round things over his ears and made strange noises while he walked in the garden. Lisbeth did 'mindful weeding' (whatever that is!)

Anyway, I am proud of both of them. They did their thing for the designated hour, then went out to the shops to look for boxes for the flat.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Quantum disappointment

All has been revealed regarding my saddle. It's nothing to do with quantum physics...........

It was suggested by Mr Dancer so that there would be somewhere to put his gin and tonic when he's sitting next to me on the veranda!

I'm too disappointed to write more.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Quantum Saddle?

Interesting breakfast conversation, today: how quantum physics relates to daily life. Mr Dancer and Lisbeth were discussing a book by Danah Zohar in which she argues for a reappraisal of models of personality in the light of modern developments in subatomic physics. It is quite an old book, apparently, but Mr dancer found it on Lisbeth's shelves and has been reading it: hence the discussion.

The conversation then moved on to notions of reality and personality - as you do - and whether we are just particles and stardust and what that might mean for the way we live our lives.

As Lisbeth and Mr Dancer moved on to explore the idea of 'light beings', I was wondering if the saddle suggestion (for me to have on my back) had anything to do with quantum physics because I found a site that mentions "...a characteristic pattern in quantum energy levels close to saddle points..." Hey..... do you think that I might be involved in something really deep and meaningful with this saddle thingy?

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Seeing Red

Remember that putting beetroot in through the front door will cause everything that comes out of the back doors to come out red. Then you won't spend half the night on the web looking up all the terrible ailments you might have because you think you're bleeding internally.

Friday, July 13, 2007

A Saddle?

I've just realised that I didn't post yesterday. What am I thinking? Maybe I was too preoccupied with the mulling over of Mr Dancer's suggestion that Lisbeth could make me a saddle!

Now why would I need a saddle? Who's going to want to sit on my back? I know my visitor from Peumeunier did but who else is likely to want to? I'm pretty puzzled. Perhaps Lisbeth is thinking of some sort of costume for me? Maybe she thinks I would make a good cowboy sheep? It is Bastille Day tomorrow and there will be lots of processions and people dressing up and stuff but as I won't be processing anywhere, I don't know what to make of it.

No doubt all will be revealed.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Matrixed life?

What is this life thing all about, then? Is it a mode of living that appears 'real' but, in fact, we are all just plugged into a big thing (like that film) that gives us the illusion of living a full and exciting life, when in reality we are just a collection of liquids with wires and things that join us to the thing?

Of course, I might be plugged into a special 'sheep matrix' where I believe that I am in France under a fig tree. I have found some evidence for this on the web, where someone talks of an animal matrix where "absolute position" is important. They go on to say that not all cells are occupied and that "in a matrix, the emptiness of a cell has meaning". Ooo-er! Is this spiritual emptiness or something more like a gap? (And what is meaning anyway?)

On the other hand, if all you humans are indeed plugged in to some sort of matrix, and I am in yours instead of my own sheep/animal matrix, then you might only be able understand what I'm saying because, as part of your matrix structure, you may all believe that you have your own Babel Sheep: and that could be me! Just think - I could be a Babel Sheep in your ear and not Monsieur Mouton in France under a fig tree.

Life eh?

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

A person from somewhere beginning with 'P'

The highlight of my week was, and will be, the arrival of my 'Person from Peumeunier'. I hope you got the reference to 'A person from Porlock'. I'm sure you did. I could have just said that Shaun had been to visit. However, to make some sort of wider reference with my title is much more interesting for me and stretches my ovine brain. There is a poem about the Porlock incident, as well.

To give a bit of a wider context to this post, Lisbeth noticed that the road sign for 'Peumeunier' is written: Peunenier. Apparently, it's a mistake, but do the French care? Of course not. I also discovered that there is a site on the web that has all the street names in France on it and this department has 256.054 rues! (But there are no streets in Peumeunier.) Is this riveting stuff, streets ahead of anything else I've written or just a load of old miss-spelled road signs?

Monday, July 09, 2007

A person from Peumeunier

You will remember that I have been expecting a visitor? One for me, not Lisbeth? Well, this surprise person was due sometime in May, but what with one thing and another, hasn't been able to come until today.

So meet my surprise visitor: Shaun. He came all the way from England via Peumeunier (a hamlet not far from here) especially to see me. He is a well-traveled sheep and he has been telling me all about his trips to France and specifically, his trip to Futuroscope

P.S. He didn't interrupt any writing of poems and the like!

Sunday, July 08, 2007

Sunday evening

Lisbeth's out with friends tonight
So I can watch the dying light
The weather has been warm and kind
And I've had nothing on my mind

I've watched the birds and listened, too,
while they have sung and fluttered through
the branches of the closest tree
with figs up high, just over me

The night is calm. The garden still
The houses, quiet, upon the hill
And solar lights infuse a glow
upon the leaves and flowers below

Saturday, July 07, 2007

Why?

As you know, I'm not normally a sheep that finds fault with artistic endeavour. However, I found this lamp on the net. True, it does resemble balloon animals which is clearly important to the designers. But this artistic interpretation as a lamp? Why? (I'm sorry, but I wouldn't want to count sheep if they all looked like this. (I didn't leave a comment.)

Friday, July 06, 2007

Overheard in the garden

Mr Dancer is sitting at the table under the fig tree reading. Lisbeth is trimming the ivy circles (don't ask) next to the tree. I am just being me on the veranda. The clock has just struck 6pm when I hear Mr Dancer sneeze.

Lisbeth: "You've just done that word we learned yesterday."
Mr Dancer: "What word's that?"
Lisbeth: "The one in the book 'Madame Tout-Va-Bien'. You know - the verb 'eternuer' (accent on 2nd e): to sneeze. We had to look it up."
There's a pause while Lisbeth continues to snip.
Mr Dancer: "Oh yes."
Another pause.
Mr Dancer sneezes again.
Lisbeth: "Oh dear. Do you think you're sickening for something?"
Mr Dancer: "Yes. A gin and tonic."

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Lisbeth learns:

How to make chicken liver pate (with accent), different dressings for salads; how to cook lamb with spices and make horses douvres (or whatever!). Then there's different salads; an easy way to thicken things (?) and great gin and tonics. (Although she still doesn't have the 'right' glasses, apparently!)

Mr dancer is learning the difference between pate (accent) and 'rillets'; how to cook haricot verts with garlic and a fruit tart with macaroons.

The kitchen is full of different breads, huge garlics, lemons (for the gin), olives, crinkly lettuce, fab cheeses and goodness knows what else. Lisbeth and Mr Dancer whiz in and out like bats out of hell! Yesterday they went to the market, cut down a dead peach tree, had a bonfire, cleaned off the moss on the garden path, cooked a great meal (and drank rather a lot). Today, they've done weeding. Lisbeth wrote a difficult letter (in French) has been mowing and done more weeding and pruning. Mr Dancer has cleaned all the moss off the steps and done more food.

I'm worn out just watching!

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Rain

It's raining. I'm fed up. The sun comes out, briefly. The sun goes in. It rains. Rain is a noun: drops of fresh water that fall as precipitation from clouds. I want it to stop falling. I want it to stop precipitating.

Did you know the Shakespeare refers to rain in his writings 429 times? If he were alive and living where I am in France, at the moment, it would be double that!

Dancing in the rain

It's certainly a movement kind of a week. Here are some dancing sheep. They give some idea of what life is like, here, at the moment. It's go, go, go. (There isn't anything to report outside because it rains every day.) Every day. It's horrible and everyone is fed up. Every day it rains. Every day.

Monday, July 02, 2007

Size matters

Hectic? I'll say. It was so hectic yesterday that even I was distracted from writing my daily post. It's all very interesting, though: having visitors. You learn so much. Yesterday I learned that size matters when it comes to ice cubes. Apparently you have to have very big ones and you need two very big ones for gin and tonic. Also, you should have 'highball' glasses (whatever they are) and Lisbeth doesn't have any so I anticipate a visit to the shops this week when she will be encouraged (by Mr Dancer) to get proper glasses!

As I'm still pondering the things that Bob and I talked about, I'm finding it really hard to focus on being in the 'thick moment' and be paying attention to the size of your ice cubes at the same time! I wonder if being totally focused on the size of ices cubes is a 'thick moment'?