Archive for September, 2011

Life in the slow lane

September 18th, 2011

I have mentioned the Interweb “connection” here once or twice.

The reason I am mentioning it again is that dozens [OK, a couple] of you have written to me via email, rather than via the site.  I haven’t replied for the simple reason that I can’t.  Well, I can but it’s a bit of a nightmare.

The connection here is a bit of a joke.  I can connect but only if I am sitting within a couple of feet of the front door.  Anywhere else and the connection breaks.  If I try to put any stress on the connection, such as trying to watch a video the fucking thing disconnects.  On top of that it doesn’t treat all sites as equals.  Some sites I can get into quite quickly but others cause problems.  This site for instance takes an age to load.  If I try to add a comment, it can take up to five minutes.  Google occasionally ceases to exist and I get a message asking me if I have correctly typed ‘google.com’!

Mail, for some strange reason just doesn’t work.  I can receive mail all right but sending is just not on.  No fucking way.  It just whines that it can’t find the server, so I haven’t been able to reply to the dozens [OK, couple] of emails that I have received.  Sorry about that.

Even if I do manage to keep the connection alive [basically by not using it] it is fucking SLOW.  And I really mean SLOW.  I tried measuring it and I swear the results are wrong.  They couldn’t be that fast?

It took me fifteen minutes just to get that image inserted!

So if any of you are waiting for a reply from me, I’m afraid it just ain’t gonna happen.

At least you now know why.

Not a happy camper

September 17th, 2011

Shopping is woman’s work.

Unfortunately Herself has an inbuilt mis-guidence system that always aims her to the wrong part of the shop.  If she goes in to buy food, she ends up buying clothes.  If she gos in to buy a pair of knickers, she’ll come out with a leg of lamb.  She also has the uncanny knack of becoming invisible in a supermarket.  To this day, I have never worked out how she does that.  I have been known to walk the entire length of a supermarket ten times, knowing she is in there somewhere yet still failing to find her.  Weird.

There is a supermarket in a town not far from here.  As French supermarkets go, it isn’t that big but you could still probably every single supermarket in Ireland into it, and there would still be spare floor space.  We have had to go there a couple of times now, and each time I have had to accompany Herself into the dreaded Halls of Consumerism.

Not only is Herself’s mis-navigation a problem but she is a divil for the impulse buy too.  This is another valid reason to accompany her as she might otherwise buy one of the many cars on display in the main hall. Or a new roof for the house.  Or a holiday in the Seychelles.  Irish supermarkets sometimes have “sweet-free” checkouts.  The French should have “car-free” counterparts.

There were a couple of things that I noticed about this supermarket.

For a start, the car park is so fucking big, it actually features on my SatNav.  Yup.  Roger gives me directions on how to navigate it, which is probably as well, as I’d never find my way out otherwise.  Even Google Earth marks its lanes as roads, though it stops short at naming them.

In Irish supermarkets you occasionally see kids pushing a broom around the place trying to keep the floor clean.  Here in France there is a slight difference.  Not for them the lowly foot soldier of the cleaning brigade.  Oh no.  They drive around the place in mini-fucking-lorries.  A couple of times I was nearly run down by one of these machines as the bloke drove it up and down the aisles.

One afternoons shopping there and I feel like I have just run a fucking marathon.  You need hiking boots, the place is so big.  It’s not a bad idea to bring a tent too, in case you find yourself too far from the entrance and have to spend a night there.

There are a couple of things I am looking forward to back in Ireland.

I miss Sandy.

I miss my comfy armchair with its personalised arse shaped dent in the cushion.

And I really miss Interweb shopping.

 

 

 

Photies

September 16th, 2011

So TT wants to know where the photies is?

I will be quite honest and say that there aren’t any.  Well, not that you lot would be interested in anyway.

I knew when we decided on this area that the camera wasn’t going to get that much use, as this little back-yard of France isn’t exactly noted for its scenery.  The Dordogne is a different matter entirely as it is full of incredible Medieval villages and towns, river views and weird and exotic wildlife.  This area isn’t really renowned for anything in particular and therefore the camera hasn’t been out quite so often.

We chose this area for two reasons.  We wanted to be far enough south to get a bit of warm weather and far enough north not to have to drive too far down.  On both counts, it’s a winner.

The land around here is very flat.  You can drive for miles without meeting even a slight incline.  The villages and towns are just typical French villages and towns.  There is little remarkable about them that is worth photographing.  Their value lies in the taste of the coffee and the warm [warm? Fucking HOT] sunshine.

So I could include a photie or two of our pet lizard but he is hard fo photie, being only about half an inch long and very fucking fast.  But I don’t think that would impress you?  Or could include a photie of the birds nest that swallows have built inside our living room? I haven’t a fucking clue how they built it, but it’s there.

Ah fuckit…..

TT.  Just for you….

Coffee famine

September 15th, 2011

One of my favourite pastimes here is supping coffee in the local bar or cafe.

There is nothing better than sitting outside the cafe in the warm sun and watching the world go by. The best ones are the ones in the cities as there is usually a lot going on, and I can just sit, relax and watch the young girls people going about their business in that peculiar unhurried way they have. Come to think of it, I don’t think I have ever seen a French person run.

Cafes and bars are everywhere. You’ll pass them in villages and most streets in the towns have them.

So can someone please explain something?

How come I seem to have picked the one spot in France where the nearest outdoor cafe is about ten miles away?

That is fucking annoying.

Books and duck and things

September 14th, 2011

I didn’t scribble much here yesterday because it was kind of mizzly outside.

As the fates would have it, I was in a writing mood, and when I’m in a real writing mood I don’t waste my time here.  Oh no.  Yesterday I made a ferocious dent in The Buke.  Remember The Buke?  The one I have been writing for years and never getting anywhere?  I made a bold decision yesterday and deleted the fucking thing.  Started again from scratch, I did and it is trotting along very happily.

Until today arrived.

Today was one of those days I dream about during the long Winter.  An azure sky withe ne’er a cloud to be seen.  A light breeze just to prevent it getting too hot.  Not a day for playing with The Buke.  We went for a bit of a drive after the sun had burned us to a crisp.  We found a lovely waterside restaurant that actually has my favorite item on the menu – Confit de Canard.

The place wasn’t open, but we’ll be heading back at the appropriate time [whenever that is].

Already I have seen my main course just beside the restaurant.

Confit de Canard
Raw Confit de Canard

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