Wot; no 'Mon Repos'?

                                  

These are the names of my parents' 6 houses from my birth to their demise.

Paris House
Gazeley
Lane End
Leylands
Hilltop
And finally Ash Grove (below, where my parents retired, and sadly died).

                              

My own homes have had less 'personal' names, other than the first.

Orchard House (Wales)
Pagot
Rue St Georges
Peyrot (below, where we now live).

                               

French country houses don't usually have names as such, just 'settlement' names. If there are five houses all in the same tiny hamlet, they're all called by the name of the hamlet (le lieu dit); it's up to the postman (or any other caller) to know who lives where.

If, in France, you should see a cast iron house sign like 'Rose Cottage' above (but in French), it's more than likely the home of a Brit.

p.s. Our first house here (Pagot) had a reasonable size copse of very productive grafted Chestnut trees. My late father christened the house 'The Nut House'; I wonder why? We did consider calling our present home La Taupinière, but that's another story.

Autumn = Rain

I don't dislike rain, I just wish it would arrive at night.

Heavy rain was forecast for yesterday, so it came as no surprise. Luckily I had taken the dogs out before the real deluge arrived; Lady Magnon ignored my advice and was not so lucky. The above little clip was taken whilst she was out (drowned rat).

Like many people I find the sound of rain at night very soporific. I've heard of Aussies who've changed their roofs from corrugated iron to tiles, only to change them back again because they missed the sound so much.

We're still hoping for mushrooms (Cèpes) here. If the end of September's downpour doesn't bring them up this weekend, then I'm sure that the present rain will do the job for around the 20th. Usually one counts 10 days after the rain, and up they pop. So, go on; you can rain all day.

As that well known sage, Dolly Parton, once said "If you want a rainbow, you've got to put up with the rain".

I'm taking the compact Royce for her two-yearly Controle Technique (MOT) test this morning. I may be in a really foul mood when I return, but my fingers are crossed.

Do you know how bloody stupid you look?.

Am I the only person who finds this photo not only dim-wittedly stupid, but also rather offensive?

It seems that almost every female 'celeb', model, singer, actress, or wannabe, is desperate to take her clothes off in order to demonstrate how sexually desirable she is. And then some editorial twit comes along and sticks a couple of 'vanity patches' over the bits she's so desperately proud of.

In its way this is no big deal, but then perleeeze don't go running to the press to complain that young women are simply being seen as sex objects, or that some hacker has posted your 'naughty' pictures (the ones you didn't want anyone to see) all over the web. You've created the situation yourselves, and, as 'role-models' are demonstrating to more susceptible young girls that this is how one advances in life.

Many schoolgirls already seem to consider school-time simply as a fashion parade (when they're not sending intimate photos of themselves to boys). Maybe in future when some spotty photographer asks them to get their kit off for some saucy snaps (as with old skinny, above)..... they could always try saying NO. No?

p.s. I wonder what's so naughty underneath those two tiny black patches; the mind boggles. Silly girl.

I swore I'd never write a piece about vacuum cleaners...but I lied!

Here I sit.... I've had an enviable education, was once an aspiring stockbroker, have a 1st class hons degree in Fine Art, and I've even exhibited work at London's prestigious ICA......but (give me strength) I now find myself enthusing about a bloody vacuum cleaner; whatever next!

We've just bought this new-fangled 'cordless' vacuum cleaner. It charges-up via a tiny phone-style-charger, then has a running time of about 30 mins; plenty for a small house like ours (half an hour's cleaning per season is enough for anyone).

No nasty wires follow you about, no long hose pipe, and no lumpy dust container to pull behind you. It's very practical, very manoeuvrable, and one gets around very quickly.

It has a rotating brush at the business end, which we thought would be perfect for dog hairs; especially on the carpet. My only concern was that hair would clog-up the brushes. In fact they do no such thing, and everything passes directly into the small dust collector, that (I think) needs to be emptied after each use. 

I've only used it a couple of times, for about 10 mins each time, and the dust container was almost full. This could be a sign of either a very dirty house, or a very efficient machine; or even a bit of both. Anyway it works well. and the triangular bottom bit means it can get into those 'difficult corners' (that's what the salesman insisted on telling me).

p.s. Of course, as usual it came in bloody bits and had to be assembled, but that took just 2 mins. It's made by Rowenta who are German; had it been Chinese it would probably have taken me all day.

James Goodfellow OBE.

                                     

Life would be very different without this man (would you have known who he was?).

It was he who invented the four digit PIN number, and the ATM machine (although others do claim the same). Mr G holds the patents to prove his inventions, although it is said that he only ever made £10 from having done so; other than his salary.

Those of us who remember the old 3pm bank closing time, and the rush to cash cheques, will forever be grateful to Mr Goodfellow. Now we have access to our own money 24hrs a day, and can buy that essential bag of potatoes at 2am if we so wish.

Mr Goodfellow changed our lives for the better, as well as giving certain Romanian gangs a whole new career option; I thank you sir.

England's most detested stereotypes. A Sunday Special.

                                

England has always had the reputation for being an eccentric and rather loony country. I think this example of her latest class bashing obsession helps to explain why.

The man on the left above (depicted by John Cleese) is typical of those who are presently the most hated in English society. He is very 'English', probably has an Oxford University degree, he probably speaks in a clear and precise voice (that we can all understand), and he probably aspires to certain high standards of living. He is what we might call 'upper-ish middle class'.

But he attracts venom by the truck-load. He is hated for being successful, hard working (well orf), and well educated. If he is the son of an equally hard working (well orf) father, then he attracts even more hatred. I even read recently of his ilk being totally vilified for their 'niceness'.

Bizarrely, many would prefer almost anyone but a person of his caliber to be Prime Minister; but give them a champagne socialist, Fettes and Oxford educated, war mongering, money obsessed, egotist, and they'd all be as happy as sandboys.

Certainly the current Socialist shadow 'Equalities Minister', Gloria de Piero, seems to sanction this view. She wants all applicants for UK public sector jobs to be quizzed about their parents' jobs, background, etc; just to make sure that no well educated people get employed, in place of the well deserving uneducated.

You'd hardly believe it, but this is what England has become. Quite frightening.

Just when you thought it was safe to....

It was our final day of swimming. I didn't like to mention anything to Lady Magnon, but when I saw this eerie shadow on the bottom of our pool I nearly had to change my shorts. 

We've now closed down the pool; the temperature had dropped to about 21C, and we couldn't see it rising again. It'll be 8 months until we swim again, it seems like a very long time.

OK, let's get it over with..... bring on winter (but please don't make it too bloody cold).