Wednesday, 18 July 2018

Lady Magnon: addict.

Ever since she first tasted this, she's been hooked.

If she could have it on her morning cornflakes, she would. If she could fill the pool with it, I think she'd do so. If she could have it as a flavoured toothpaste, there's no question that she would brush her teeth 20 times a day.

It's a little too sweet for me, but even so it's very pleasant. Your Hot Dogs would never be the same again.

Oh, I didn't say, did I...... it's mustard with honey.

Tuesday, 17 July 2018

Out with the old; in with the new.

When Mr Brandt sold us this oven, he guaranteed it for one year.

It broke after one year and four days, and when asked if they would ignore the four days, the bastards said 'NO'.

Since then we have had to find inventive ways of using it. We've done all sorts of oven dances, dial twiddles, and switch flickings, and until recently we'd managed to roast the fatted calf without too much difficulty.

However, the in-built 'annoyance programme' has recently totally taken over, and I haven't been able to use it for about a month, so it had to go.

The 'DARTY' men arrived, and instantly threatened to dump the new oven at the end of the drive, because our access is a bit narrow. Then after having refused to install it, because of some minor technicality, they unceremoniously dumped it in the 'Tower'. 

When they'd gone I phoned Bertrand (our electrician), and he promised to come a.s.a.p.

We knew it was dodgy asking to have it installed on Friday 13th; the 16th proved a much better bet, and all is now well. Bertrand did the job in a matter of minutes.

I should add that the 'DARTY' company delivery men have always been exemplary in the past; which is why we use them. These two last Friday were a bloody disgrace. I shall be writing!

p.s. Whilst looking for our replacement, we were amazed to see how many ovens don't have an interior light. I would have thought they were as essential as the ones inside a fridge.

Monday, 16 July 2018

Our illustrious EU leader.

It was just about the most important NATO summit of recent times. One might have hoped that dear Juncker (His Excellency Jean-Claude Juncker, President of the European Commission) would have resisted that third bottle of publicly-funded Pétrus for breakfast.

What a bloody disgrace he is, and in front of all the world's most powerful leaders.

I can almost lip-read Mrs May at 30 secs, saying "Pissed as a fart!"

Sunday, 15 July 2018


You cannot imagine the pleasure this photo gives me.

To see these two lying side by side like this is wonderful; it's taken me about 6 years of 'training' to get this far.

My dream is to have them snuggling up together on Winter nights.....but that may be just a tad too far-fetched. Fred is 13, so not a lot more 'training' time available.

Still; I'm working on it.

Saturday, 14 July 2018

Theresa May and the Holy Grail

She's doing her best, but the people aren't happy. Never has the UK been more divided. Here is Mrs May taking some of the stick!

Friday, 13 July 2018

Village Picnic (Marché des Producteurs).

This was the second 'picnic' of 2018; last week's was a bit of a wash-out, and we didn't go.

As usual, our own village event is probably the most popular within a good radius, it wasn't exactly packed, but I would think there were at least 400 people present.

We went with several friends. Margaret (top in white), who lives nearby, and some others from the UK. I love spending time with our old friend Margaret; we turned up in this area at about the same time all those years ago, and have been good friends ever since. Her book 'Tropical and Subtropical Trees' remains the world authority to this day. She is a mine of information of all things horticultural.

On offer last night. BBQ'd Duck breasts, Confit, simple salads, and SNAILS. I was in heaven.

Sandrine, our Boulangère, was also present, so it saved a Sunday 20 Km round trip to her bakery.

Thursday, 12 July 2018

The Greengage.

The Greengage (Reine Claude) is a strange fruit. One minute it is green and unripe, the next it is yellow-ish and so sweet that it's almost impossible to eat. Catching them 'just right' is a cat-n-mouse game that takes considerable guile.

This year our tree is surprisingly loaded and bug free. Normally almost every fruit is inhabited by some bucolic vilain that leaves a transparent dribble from its temporary home.

2018 will be a good year. We will freeze plenty, as well as having occasional pies. We will also consume plenty in situ; the best way.

It's a pity my ordinary Plums aren't doing as well.

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