Cat is not Fifi. We both looked at her and agreed that she is no Fifi. Her name on her passport will be Chloé. She does look like a Chloé, we think. We have promised Chloé that we will not change her name/our minds again.
As Cat was in the house when Mr L returned from walking the dog, he boxed her up and headed off to the vet to make an appointment but in the hope that they might just fit her in. They couldn’t, so he was soon home again and she is due for her rendezvous on Monday morning. Cat will be needing a name for her passport. We have decided on Fifi as Mr L will
We wanted to go away for a few days in the motorhome but were tied to the house awaiting the electricity supplier’s workmen on Wednesday afternoon. The window was between 13:30 and 19:00 hours, which really did not help the planning and packing process but we got stuck in as well as we could. It was awful hot. The team duly arrived around 14:00 hours, which was good. They evinced some surprise at the meter
We have a rendezvous tomorrow afternoon and are looking forward to seeing how well the French workforce keeps time/ performs. The electricity supply is being changed from 3-phase, the amperage increased, and a new meter is to be fitted. It should be a good test of our linguistic skills but we think that we are on a roll after having conducted our business at the office entirely in French. Well, somebody did and it wasn’t
Sunday got off to a poor start, with a rude awakening when a bird made its way into the stove pipe. The pipe from the woodburner in the living room runs straight up through our bedroom and beng hollow and metallic it made an excellent amplification device. We were unable to lie abed listening to the bird’s struggles so roused ourselves, grabbed disposable gloves and a stout bin bag and undid the access cap. Quite
The livestock in this house is terrifying. I may hate France. That is all.