The English Armchair Abroad

The suns out - shut the window

2009-06-29T13:52:09+02:00

Every year we have a week of really hot weather. This year it's come early. Some years it doesn't come at all but I try to forget about those! The advantage of a very old, stone, house is that the house stays cool for longer. However, it's important that we do our best to keep the inside of the house cool when outside it's over 30 degrees. So, this is what I've learnt during the past few years - I hope it's helpful!

Basically the most important thing is to KEEP THE WINDOWS AND DOORS SHUT and if you have shutters them too. If you stand in front of an open window you can quite literally feel the hot air pouring in to the house. Once the heat is in, you will NOT be able to get it out again until the end of the heatwave. Having the shutters closed and the window open "just a bit" is no good. SHUT THE WINDOWS. Once the sun has gone down and the temperature is cooler then you can open the windows again.

I can usually keep the house cooler than outside for two weeks - if the heatwave goes on longer then it is nearly impossible and we start spending longer in the local, air conditioned, supermarket.

I have to warn you that not everyone believes me and "other halves", however wonderful, can be difficult to convince. Here, my biggest problem is when Blind Granny's visit coincides with very hot weather. Her great joy is sitting in front of the dining room window listening to the radio. The window is stained glass so she doesn't get the sunlight coming through unless she opens it. In comes the heat. I am quite certain that diplomacy and tact should be part of the school curriculum....

So there you have it. Very simple really, just shut the windows and doors! And obviously drink plenty of water...

The Fat Lady Sang in Morannes

2009-06-29T00:28:06+02:00

Oh boy, loud and clear.

My loyal readers (both of you) will have noticed that I've been very quiet this year and not mentionned tennis. The reason is simple - I've not been playing well and prefer not to bore you with my poorer efforts! However things have changed a little because ... drum roll ...

This afternoon, at long last, I won the Morannes Tennis Tournament. All right, this is not Wimbledon but it might as well be as far as I'm concerned!

I was playing a girl who I've played twice before. Last year I beat her; earlier this year she beat me. Everything to play for then. I was also playing to revenge my team captain (Muriel) who was beaten by Caroline in an earlier round. She left a message for me on Friday wishing me luck.

As this was my home club and there was a BBQ lunch before the match I had a decent number of spectators (well, most of them were at the bar actually but they were there in spirits); it really helps to have people there to keep your own spirits up.

The first set was all over in 20 minutes and my supporters were wondering if they should go home to avoid the embarassment of watching a really quick defeat - I lost the first set 6/1 and it was not looking good. The sun was shining and it was getting hotter and hotter but I've run marathons remember and it was time to get my marathon head out again. This middle-aged bag does not give up easily. If I had to lose it would only be after a fight.

I took the second set, eventually, 6/4. My opponent was not pleased. I know from grim experience that she has a nasty little drop shot and today I was ready for them. What really annoyed her was I had a couple of my own up my sleeve and they were winners. When I won the set her whole demeanour changed and I could see she was rattled.

My honour saved I was determined to enjoy the third set. I won the first game and broke her service in the second to go 2/0 up. I was in the lead for the first time in the match and it did not go unnoticed by my opponent. Another couple of games and I was leading 3/1. That was when she realised it was not, after all, going all her way; her head started to go down between points and she was losing her concentration - the mens' final was in progress on the neighbouring court and I noticed her eyes wandering over to their game. It was by no means over but it was then that I realised that perhaps I had more than an outside chance after all. I was dimly aware of my supporters also becoming more vocal between games. Hmmm.

When we changed ends at 4/1 I noticed that my water bottles were almost empty - although I still had a small bottle left I'd already drunk 3 litres and I wondered if I should ask someone to bring some water over to the court. We were playing in 30 degrees and my mouth was so dry (despite the 3 litres) that I was sometimes having trouble giving the score. In the end I decided that there was actually a better solution: if I won in two more games I could just go and get my own water.

I held my service to 5/1 and then Caroline was serving to "STAY IN THE MATCH". I had to stop my mind wandering and really work on staying focussed; losing it now would be a total waste and a very hot waste at that. But I needn't have worried. I hit my first match point into the net and it was deuce. I won the next point and it was my advantage and the second match point; then a forehand from Caroline went...LONG! I'd DONE IT!

A couple of things about Caroline. She is the most lovely person to play against. We didn't have an umpire on court with us (although Jean Marie was watching the match and there in case of disputes) but I never once doubted her line calls - and I hope she will say the same of mine. She's also an ideal opponent in that she is a tough player and easy to dislike on the court but a very pleasant person and easy to like off the court. She doesn't go in for psychological games, questionning every call or the score; not once did she keep me waiting in the heat while she retyed her shoe laces (yes, I've played against a variety of people!). She just plays really well and very fair. I look forward, with trepidation, to playing her again in another tournament.

From the left: Caroline Rucar (womens runner-up), Jean HT (Winner), Jean-Marie Cardoen (our Juge Arbitre), Danni Clemot (President of the Club) John Goetz (Winner of the mens) and Olivier Posson (Mens runner-up)

Philippe did an excellent job of keeping us all fed and watered ...

The remaining Morannes supporters

Max flying the flag - this was the first time a non-French had won the tournament.

'Elf & Safety

2009-06-17T13:06:28+02:00

I bought some smoked mackerel a little while ago and yesterday, as the cupboard was otherwise bare, I served it up at lunch to accompany a salad. My son took one look at his and asked me if it was meant to have mould on it. That was lunchtime.

Yesterday evening a friend of mine pulled a calf muscle during a tennis match and sadly had to retire. He's ok by the way but off games for a bit.

Why are these two things connected? Read on.

I have to admit that I don't check the dates of food in the cupboard or in the fridge. If it looks ok and doesn't smell bad that's fine by me. I do, obviously, pay more attention to meat but generally I am relaxed about the wretched sell by/use by dates. When John hurt his leg, our club president, Danni, immediately took some ice spray from the first aid kit and put it on his leg. I commented on the efficiency of the first aid kit (which I didn't know was there) and she then mentionned that she hadn't actually checked that the spray was still within its use by date. I laughed and we agreed that on the whole it was probably not a problem and then she found the date and all was fine.

However, this led to a conversation about medicines (which I DO check and take to the pharmacy when they are out of date - and they send them off to Africa...not sure of the logic but ok) and dates generally. She was scandalised when I told her that I hardly ever check dates and we eat/drink regardless - and seem to survive. I was mystified when she told me she even checks the date on her bottled water - er, why? I didn't ask her what she did about wine but perhaps I will... She conceded that just occasionally she'll eat a yoghurt that's two days past its date - but not more than that. Crikey, I have yoghurt that's months out of date and it tastes fine. This was too much for her. She pointed out that anyone with a sensitive stomach would be in big trouble with out of date yoghurt. I pointed out that maybe none of us have sensitive stomachs because we've got used to all this abuse.

My final fall from grace, and surely the one that will prevent her from ever accepting an invitation to eat at our house, came when I asked her what she would do with a carrot (for example) if it fell to the floor while she was getting supper ready. Well, obviously, her's goes in the bin. Mine goes in the pot (unless the dog gets there first).

If one day my blog is no longer being written you will wonder if it's because of something I've eaten!

Finished and started...

2009-06-13T12:38:41+02:00

A big chair but a real joy to work on. Very fiddly though so an equal joy to finish!

And now for something completely different...

A small bedroom chair belonging to a friend of mine. The back was completely broken and my wonderful local carpenter has remade a section of it and then put it all back together.
Don't look at the mess behind!

Actually, I have a record of crime...

2009-06-03T09:17:29+02:00

Now that I'm a hardened criminal (see earlier post) I might as well own up to my previous crime. I recently met a policeman and told him the story and he put me at my ease by telling me that in his opinion (and he'd seen a few trials) the magistrate would look kindly on me due to the circumstances. You can judge for yourself.

Actually, I'd pretty much forgotten about this incident until my youngest son asked me if I'd ever broken the law. Coming from a child that's a fairly serious question that if not answered honestly can later on come back and haunt you. This is what happened.

About 25 years ago, on holiday in France, I was stung by a jellyfish on my wrist and my leg. It hurt like hell then calmed down and went away. Two days later I was back in England and frantically getting laundry sorted and bags repacked for a long weekend on our sailing boat which was then in the Solent.

On the Friday morning, exactly one week after the jellyfish sting, I noticed that the rash had come back and was itching a bit. I also noticed that I had a touch of the, er, runs. But nothing serious. On Friday evening we left. Being the start of an August Bank Holiday weekend and lovely weather forecast, the traffic was horrendous. And my stomach was beginning to rumble in a rather nasty fashion.

We reached, finally, the Hammersmith roundabout and yet another long, long traffic jam. There was no denying it. I HAD TO GO. There's a pub at that roundabout so we pulled in and I made a dash for the ladies room. To put it mildly, I anticipated a slightly disrupted weekend. And then I realised that I had at least another two hours in the car ahead of me and what would I do if.... So, I nicked a loo roll. I shoved it into my handbag and walked back to the car. I was a thief.

We lived in London for another three years and every time we went passed that pub I had a pang of conscience. I never did replace it and I only owned up to the crime in public, as it were, when my son asked the question. To be fair, he was fairly understanding although he couldn't resist telling me that stealing was stealing whatever the excuse (oh, and where had he learnt THAT from I wonder!).

I don't know if the pub is still there. If it isn't I don't suppose that it suffered any financial problems as a direct result of my crime. But I would say that, wouldn't I?