A parent with Dementia

I live 18,000 kms away from my mother who spends her days in a bedroom in a rest home in Christchurch, New Zealand. Every few weeks I make an international call to see how she is, knowing I'm going to have to deal with someone who is no longer capable of functioning independently and with whom  I cannot discuss anything important.

We've never been close. I have no recollection of ever receiving a kiss or a cuddle or a pat on the back as a child or young adult. She never had any maternal instincts towards me though that was probably not the case towards my younger brother. Some of her treatment of me in the past has been downright inexcusable but I wouldn't want to be in her shoes these days. Her brain and personality and even her identity are rotting away from some form of dementia.

When the second and more devasting earthquake hit Christchurch in February 2011 Mum's house was damaged to the point where it wasn't liveable and there was nowhere safe for her so after a few weeks at my brother's place he put her in a retirement home which handles people like Mum. She needs nursing care. Last week I managed to glean a tiny bit of information from temporary staff at the home. It seems Mum has frequent urinary tract infections, is incontinent, and hardly leaves her room. But she still remembers me as her daughter who lives near Paris.

Each time I speak to her it starts the same, she's close to tears and very distraught by the earthquake because she has lost everything. It's as if it happened yesterday for her but it was, in fact, three years ago. She's angry because she was put in a home with nothing to do, surrounded by old people with no interest in life.

As we chat, me making encouraging noises and trying not to argue with her view of the facts, and her repeating the same sentences she says every phone call and often repeated during each call, she seems to develop some lucidity and the intelligence she once had makes a phantom appearance. We discuss the corrupt state of politics, my employment difficulties, but it's always dangerous to ask her a question.

 I made the mistake of asking her if she had received her Christmas and birthday presents. I'd made an effort to buy and make things that might be comforting and interesting for her and help her remember things she enjoys for a little bit longer. It cost a lot for me and I needed to know it there had been any point to my efforts to help. I received a listless reply saying she didn't know, she couldn't remember. Her room is not large so I asked her if she could see them anywhere. No she couldn't and wouldn't know where to look so they are probably not there.

"Well, I can ask the staff if they've seen your parcel arrive. It's from France so that should stick in their mind,' I said.
She became very afraid and agitated at this suggestion.
"I don't think that's a good idea. It'll just make things worse. They'll get angry and it'll be worse for me then. Best to forget about it."
"But Mum, what's the point in me sending you things from France if you never know if you have them. It costs a lot of money and if you get no benefit, well..."
"You're very rude, that's not very nice," she said.
"OK, but what do you suggest I do? Is it reasonable to keep sending you stuff you don't remember receiving?"
"Oh, I see what you mean," she replied.
I needed to settle her distress so I said not to worry. I'd keep things cool.
"Is there a TV room at the home?"
"Oh... I think there is one somewhere . No one ever visits me, there's nothing to do. I buy the paper and read that, that's all. Someone gave me a thing to watch photos. I'm doing that, it's about my trip to France."
"That's great."

She rarely asks me questions but she asked about my health. I explained about the arthritis and I could almost hear her nodding. This sort of 'normal' but superficial conversation can lull you into thinking your parent is almost normal but then she'll say something paranoid or start repeating her sentences and I come down to earth with a thud, knowing the next time we speak she'll be worse. I tell her to look after herself and keep helathy and that probably her house will be repaired this year.

"I don't know anything about it. Nobody tells me anything."
"As far as I know it's repairable, just a matter of waiting your turn after the more urgent cases, Mum."
"Well, you seem to know a lot more than I do," she says, sounding somewhat reassured. "It's all terrible, this earthquake. I've lost everything and I'm all alone."
"You never know Mum, keep up your spirits and look after your health and just maybe you might see your home again. You're in a good place for health treatment."
She perks up at that but immediately slides back into listlessness and as with every phone call I make to her, she gives up on the conversation after only a few minutes using the excuse of it costing me an arm and a leg.
"Actually Mum, it's free, doesn't cost anything."
"Humph, don't see how they can do that."
"It's part of the internet and TV package I pay for here, all down to competition for customers."
"Oh, well, I don't understand all those things these days. I spend all my days in this room. It's not much to have in life at my age. Must be costing you and arm and a leg so I'm going to hang up."

It's tiring for her to make an effort, to try to remember. She doesn't talk about her distant past and she rarely takes an interest in what I'm doing. She never asks about my daughter, her grand daughter anymore. I know one day she'll forget who I am and who she was. Each time to try to talk to her and lift her spirits I'm left tired myself. I know it's useless to send her things now.

I put the phone down and rang the rest home back. It's usually someone new that answers each time, they always seem to be on temporary assignments, no continuity. The lady couldn't be sure the package had arrived but she seemed to think something had arrived from France. My mother would speak about a daughter in France. Mum had a lot of falls, constant infections which made her condition worse but she was on antibiotics at present. That's all I could find out but I reminded them to contact me if the situation got bad.

Feeling helpless and mal-informed because of distance I sent an email to my brother. After a couple of weeks he replied to my questions saying Mum couldn't cope with being away from the home for more than an hour, she always wanted to get back. She never did anything but lie on her bed. She never took part in any of the activities organised for residents. He said several people had sent her presents for Christmas but when he turned up to check on her two days later they were still sitting, wrapped up on her bed, unopened.

Typically she has lost interest in a life she can't cope with, where paranoia can make her fearful. I thought back to some upsetting phone conversations I had with her when I was still living in Auckland, trying to make contact with her, trying always to connect and now I can see that more than 10 years ago dementia was already present. She's only 84, it's not that old but it's now common to have dementia at her age and younger. My father was determined never to die slowly like that. He said he'd put a pistol to his head before he'd go into a home. He got his wish, he died in 2000 of a massive heart attack while working in his workshop doing what he liked best, at the age of 70.

I don't know if I'll see her again or, if I do, if she'll even remember me. It's a dreadful disease and I'm trying to understand it. Its not hereditary. Her parents didn't seem to have it. Today I finished reading a delightful and sad book called The Little Girl in the Radiator: Mum, Alzheimers and Me, by Martin Slevin. It's sensitively and honestly written and sends out a plea for more money and research to be devoted to what will destroy more people than cancer will. It's an illness that poisons life for patients and their families and friends and I hope it never happens to me. In the meantime, I'll continue to ring Mum when I can so that for a few moments she doesn't feel so alone.
Image sources 
http://www.nevermindthebuspass.com/health/exercise-cuts-dementia-risk-more-than-low-alcohol-intake/

http://krucina-period5-geneticdisorders.wikispaces.com/Alzheimer-Description

What comes...

What can be done to reduce my anxiety levels this new year? I need to know what are realistic options for me to stay and work in this country. They are so limited, I know but someone out there must be able to give me some guidance. JC can't help at all. He's never had to seek employment in his life having been in the same job 40 years. He has no idea how to help me but he knows that laws in France have so many layers even experts struggle to understand things. I asked for suggestions from a network of EXPATS in France but received no response at all.

I think I'm going to have to find some money from somewhere and hire an immigration and work lawyer who is bilingual. I found one based in Paris on the internet. Expensive? probably but I only need to know what I can and can't do. I'm not a complicated case. What are my options and how can I achieve my goal of becoming French, working to support myself and stay inside the law.

I know the cards are stacked against me but I've made it this far. In a little over 3 years I'll know if I can stay in France; if I can stay employed that long, that's the rub. It's not easy for anyone older than 50 to get a job anywhere and in a country with 11% unemployment and so many rules that create obstacles to businesses it's not surprising there are so many out of work here. My employer is bankrupt and recently had to accept a bailout from the government just to pay staff and keep open. I could never have predicted such obstacles before I left NZ.
There are many days I become demoralised and depressed but I still need to take some action even if it's going for a walk to get some gentle exercise. Last week I decided to walk to a neighbouring village and back. I'd driven past it but that's very different from walking it. You see so many more interesting details when you walk. What began as an idea for 30 minutes fresh air turned into an hour and a half of walking, exploring and stopping to take a few photos. I really don't like exercise for exercise's sake, it's boring and uncomfortable which is why I gravitated towards dance in the past and now to taking photos when I walk. It gives me an instant payback. Though it's the middle of winter right now  I figure I can find the odd day when it's fine.

This country is downright interesting to me in a way my own isn't. Much of this can be put down to the past cohabiting with modern times. I've included some example in these photos. I live in an urbanised environment but everywhere I can find rural experiences and history on my doorstep and they affect me in a positive way. My soul is quiet and peaceful in this country. I can't say the same for my head and heart. They are churned up with the fragility of my situation. Yes I know the saying that we have to accept what we can't change. Trouble is, I was brought up in the generation that said hard work and focus will get you what you want. It's not true but I'm certainly programmed to it. Maybe this new year will bring some positive change. At the least I'd like it to be no worse.

President Hollande is in the foreign media for having an alleged affair; being chauffeured around Paris on a scooter with his bodyguard bringing hot croissants for Hollande and his actress lover for breakfast. His girlfriend has been admitted to hospital since the news was announced. I suppose she's mightily upset. The French don't care. This affair is not on the news or in the papers to any great degree. The French consider what he does in his private life is private.

This is a man failing in his job (according to media reports), putting his efforts into allegedly cheating on his partner while millions are unemployed, systems fail, necessary reforms never happen and the country heads to even more credit rating falls and possible bankruptcy. Will it hurt him or will he be seen as yet another virile French politician? Probably there will be little change to his popularity ratings which are at rock bottom in France. It may damage his 'international image' though, but time will tell.

Year's End

It's the end of 2013 and I'm feeling bored and restless. It's not as if I want to be working flat out all the time. During the lead-up to Christmas I was working day and night marking exam papers and trying to complete all the admin I needed to do as an English teacher. I'm not certain when I start back. The teaching establishment is bankrupt and needed a bailout of several million euros from the government just to pay the staff and keep the doors open. Much of the blame for this can be put squarely at the door of the previous head and her administration. There have been student protests around the cuts to hours, classes, degrees, conditions. The current CEO even started a 'save our school' petition and launched it online. I was rather surprised at this. It created a lot of worry amongst staff. So it's in this environment of uncertainty that I'm trying to look at the approaching year with some balance and optimism.

That's not easy. At the moment I think I will have my maximum number of classes again but I don't know if my contract will be renewed for its final year, I hope so. They need teachers but can't afford them. I've got an idea of what classes I might be teaching this coming semester but nothing's confirmed yet so I'm on holiday, sort of, needing to go back to the uni to drop off marked papers to various academic secretaries next week.

This Christmas, as before, I've spent the festive season at JC's so I'm not alone but I'm not in an environment where I can do what I like. Naturally one must fit in. All the visitors have gone home now. I've made a pavlova and an apple tart, brandy balls and choc-dipped strawberries but the feasting needs to stop. I can read or potter on my laptop or watch a DVD in French but that's it. I'd really rather do something to advance myself but how? Without spending money there are few hobbies I can do. I'll go back to the mairie in January and try to find out why my offer to the mayor to do volonteer work for the city hasn't gone anywhere. I really wanted to contribute and make contacts and feel part of things here but there's been no reply to my written offer of 6 months ago so I'll follow that up.

I've started working on my book again, especially the final chapter. That's something constructive I can do. My French language competence doesn't improve in leaps now but I continue to pick up snippets here and there. Yesterday I helped JC in his garden though in the middle of a European winter things to do are strictly limited. This constant incertitude over how long I can stay in France, in my apartment, is corrosive to efforts at putting down roots.  It's hard to know what direction would yield any results.

Finding employment is always top of my priorities but it's a needle in a haystack situation. I can do so many things competently and I'm frustrated at not being able to use even half of my abilities in my current job. International relations interests me. Europe is interesting but being a kiwi is a major problem.

Despite being a member of the Commonwealth I can't even live and work in Britain and I can 'thank De Gaulle' for forcing Britain to relinquish its ties to NZ in order to be allowed to enter the EEC. I grew up in an era where the emotional (and economic) ties to Britain were still strong. We stood up in the cinema to sing God Save the Queen as a photo of her was displayed each time before the main feature. We ate boiled mutton with parsley sauce, had apple dumplings and watched Z cars and The Saint. And there were scones, rock cakes and Louise biscuits. Alas, my British heritage isn't working for me and neither is my French one.

 As I look back it's been a year of changes as well as some stability. I've changed job/career, I've taken measures to stay in my apartment a bit longer because I feel comfortable there. I enjoy living in my town and having access to other places via the train station. I also enjoy some independence with my little car. JC and I  are still in each other's lives. My shoulders have improved quite a bit thanks to time and physiotherapy. I'm happy planning my daughter's visit next year and am looking forward to also having a high school friend come and visit me. I've spent another year here and that's an achievement but I'm not at ease because I have no idea where I will be this time next year and certainly not the year after that. Living in the moment isn't something I can master more than a few hours or a day at a time.

 It's a no-man's land, biding my time, waiting and hoping when really, I'd rather be acting on something concrete to get my teeth into for the next few years. While writing this post I've just found out my daughter has been mugged in Thailand and lost her wallet. Thank goodness for social networks to help communicate during times like this. They bring people who can help together. And it shows you can't plan for everything. I hope 2014 is better for everyone. It won't be, of course, but I hope it will be for YOU.

Paris Christmas Markets

I noticed them last year when JC and I went to Paris to see the first Hobbit movie at the Gaumont cinema. All the lights, the crowds, the merchandise. What was it all about? I was determined to find out this year.

JC and I braved the chill and the long car journey with the associated traffic hassles to get to Paris to look at the Christmas markets. They are temporary
structures, merchandising cabins really. To fortify ourselves we started with a hot drink in a nearby cafe in the ritzy fashion district.


There were wall-to-wall people and pickpockets. I left my wallet in the boot of JC's car and he put his wallet in a zipped compartment on the inside front of his jacket. Just as well. As he was collecting his hot roasted chestnuts he realised his pocket had been picked. Only a few coins but in Paris wherever there are crowds of tourists you have to take serious precaustions (as I unhappily discovered at the same time of the year in 2010).



Both sides of the Champs Elysee at the Place de la Concorde end are involved in this market where the wares include lavender, meats, cheese, dried fruit, toys, touristy souvenirs, ornaments, hats and gloves and handbags and scarves, ice-skating. There were stalls offering hot wine and hot soup. There were plenty of weird and pointless consumer goods for sale too. And food, food, food.



JC and I bought what turned out to be one of the most disgusting sandwiches we've ever eaten. It was made of two enormous round buns filled with cooked onion sand fatty ham bits. Beurk! The bread and ham were tasteless mushy, floury gunk and the onions weren't properly cooked. Just as well, said JC, that he and I like each other. We tossed our sammies in the rubbish bin. See, industrialised crap food can happen even in Paris. It was a shame.




One thing I did enjoy was the featured lighting in a couple of areas near the Grand Palais. It was set up so that members of the public could take photos of each other with a festive backdrop - a great idea. And of course La Grand Roue ferris wheel is always  pretty. It's now a permanent feature there, not just at Christmas.


The merchants didn't make a killing out fo us. JC bought his hot chestnuts and I bought a tiny bottle of Lavender oil for my diffuser. We simply went along for the experience, the atmosphere.


The photos show the merchandise on offer, a statue of Clemenceau, JC in front of the photo opportunity area, street lighting, entertainment. 

I had some problems with condensation inside my camera due to the low temperatures here now. In future I'll get some silica and store it with my camera.

What students think

Another of my  English classes consists of students studying human resources. As third years they are a little more competent in their English though the ability level is very wide. I try to find topics that will interest them and also be useful to them. We are together from 9-11am every Thursday this semester. We do a variety of activities including team debating, personal presentations, watching educational videos, grammar, themes linked to human resources, impromptu role-plays, reading and writing, listening and speaking. Themes have included the Christchurch Earthquake, the sinking of the Rainbow Warrior and the creation of nuclear-free NZ, CV's and job interviews, writing media releases, women in management (or lack of), HR in organisations, writing emails, the French in NZ and the establishment of Akaroa.

I like to have discussions but it's not easy getting them to offer ideas and participate in a foreign language (English). I haven't included any photos of them as they didn't want that so I'm  respecting their wishes. I'd like to thank them for their honest input into this blog and their encouraging feedback. So... here are the students' comments....

My first impression of our teacher was that she is very dynamic, more so than us students and we very quickly learnt that she loves France. It's a good thing that we have a dynamic teacher who teaches with energy and gives us  fun activities to teach us English. For example, to learn the parts of the body we played a game: someone had to go to the front of the class and say the name of a part of the body while the rest of the class had to show which part it was on thier own body. it was really fun and different. In class we talk about a lot of subjects such as nuclear-free New Zealand, human resources, equality between men and woment etc. Like that we learned a lot about New Zealand because it's not a 'famous country'. We also learnt things about CVs, job interviews and things relating to our speciality which are useful in finding jobs in Anglo-Saxon countries.

I am very pleased to have a New Zealand teacher because it really helps to know the culture of the country and the real pronunciation of the language. I always had French teachers, which is not bad, but it's different because those teachers, even if they travelled in Anglo-Saxon countries, are not part of that culture. Besides, some of them had a really bad accent. When I go to English class I expect to practice the language as if I were in the country: USA, Great Britain, New Zealand, Australia. I know that French is a beautiful language but honestly, I would have liked to be born Anglo-Saxon, so when I go to class I want to learn the customs, culture, anecdotes, the cities, the landscapes. I have to say that with Miss Harrison my wish was granted.

Miss Lawson has an accent which is difficult for us to understand. For the majority of us, this is the first time that we have met someone from this country, but I think it's interesting to hear different English accents- a new experience.

Our teacher never spoke to us in French so we had no choice but to speak English. The topics were very interesting, especially when we talked about nuclear testing in the Pacific. The debates were fun. Personally I'm shy so it was a good means for me to practice speaking and
see where my difficulties in English lie.

The classroom really sucks as it sounds like a goddamned church. People in the class are cool, even the teacher Miss Lawson who seems to really enjoy her class, her work and even France, which is pretty weird.

 I like the energy of Miss Lawson for teaching us on Thursday mornings. At this hour we are like zombies. I like the videos we watch in class (Mr Bean for example). But I don't like the acoustics in the room. In fact, often we don't understand the instructions because there is a lot of echo. We have to speak louder, very slowly and clearly to be understood.

Our class is very heterogeneous: some people have a good level of English but others are backward. It's a shame the university doesn't divide the students into 'level' groups. In this way, students could progress according to their own competencies and at their own rhythms.

After my third year I'll want to leave and do a Master in HR in a university. I really hope, in my future study, that there are English, law and history courses to continue developing my competence.

This place is good for those with long term goals who know how to work and think and its easy to get into and not expensive.

We did a lot of oral work which is good because it allows us to speak English in front of the class. I did a debate on racism. My favourite video was on job interviews because it teaches us how to deal with these interviews and how to do a CV and the differences between English and French CVs.

Miss Lawson is a good teacher because she has, on the one hand experience, and on the other hand she is a New Zealander so she speaks very well. This progresses us faster than a French teacher who speaks English. It's the first time that I have had the impression I'm making progress with my English.

The teaching is motivating and practical but the teacher needs to speak slower for me. In the next semester I think more work on CVs and cover letters would be a good thing. For the past 3 years I didn't take English as an option but now I'm going to take English as an option every semester.

I liked dictation and your accent when you speak English.
I think we need to do more listening comprehension
I'd like us to study a newscast from the USA or a TV series like Breaking Bad or Dexter, or Game of Thrones.

French sports students learning English

I'd like to introduce you to one of my favourite classes - my STAPS students. They are all studying sport but English lessons are mandatory for them. Rather than write this blogpost completely by myself I thought it might be fun and useful for my students to have a say about what they think. They are all French students studying  their chosen sport and also the rules of other sports. In order for STAPS students to have the best opportunity to improve their English they are divided into three classes to keep class sizes down. I am responsible for one of these classes.

My students spend most of their week studying sport at two locations with activities at various stadiums. Although their level of oral English is not high they are a very personable and open-hearted bunch willing to display their personalities more than some of the more academically oriented classes I teach elsewhere. Roguish charm and a willingness to help their classmates characterises these students. You can see this in the photos and they were comfortable enough to agree to a class photo. This also sets them apart.

I like travelling by train and bus to work from my home in another region because the train is more direct and the city where I work is charming and super bourgeois. It's also the only campus where I get to have a short conversation meeting other other English teachers. The teaching campus contains the sciences faculty and sports fits within that. Those of you will think it ironic that someone who is not into sport (though into dance) should end up teaching sports students but it has been an interesting and rewarding experience.

The class runs for three hours on a Wednesday. For several weeks we practiced the words and movements of a traditional NZ haka. I wanted to give them a unique 'sporting' experience, get out from behind our desks and have some fun. It was an uphill struggle to get them to display the menace and intimidation required to do a more authentic haka. I kept asking for more testosterone  and we all laughed about that. Goodness know what other students who walked pass thought.

We practised in wind and rain outside because somehow it was always too loud for neighbouring classes. I would have like to have got them to performance standard but it wasn't important to them, more the experience. French culture doesn't have anything comparable. So there I was, Frances Lawson Haka coach in France, a unique experience for me. I also enjoyed introducing students to key NZ sportspersons and the concept of extreme sports of which NZ excels. There's a lot more I'd have like to do but there's so much evaluation/testing required it gets in the way of actually teaching. This is, after all, university level.

I'll leave you with the ideas and opinions of my sports students:

• In  my opinion studying English is very important for all students, not only for sports majors.
• During our class with Miss Lawson we watch videos about sport, we debate sports subjects and we do grammar. The class is very entertaining. I like when we work on the whiteboard.
• I'm studying sport. We practice different sports like dance, swimming, football/soccer, judo, gymnastics, horse riding. During our studies we learn about the  movement of the body with biology, anatomy and biomechanics.
• I decided to study sports because I would like to become a physical trainer for professional athletes one day. Therefore it's important to learn English because then we can train English, American or German athletes.
• I like learning about other cultures including NZ culture
• It's fun, not boring in our class
• We study for nine months from September to May.
• My class has a very good ambiance.
• I like playing games in class where there is a little competition
• I like doing the worksheets
• I don't like speaking because I am shy
• I don't like learning grammar
• I don't like writing or reading in English
• I like doing the haka because not many classes do it
• Grammar is boring and difficult
• I like the interaction between students and the teacher but I don't like the debates
• I don't like evaluations/tests
• I don't like having to go outside because the other teachers can be annoying - they don't want to be disturbed by our haka
• In English with Miss Lawson we learn how to have a conversation in English and debate sports topics. There's also listening comprehension
• I like doing the haka when the temperature is cold
• I like doing the Poutini haka,it's fun. I think I like everything
• The whole class is interested in playing games in class
• I like talking about real life in English
• My best memory is the haka; it's a very good experience for me

What to do when evenings get chilly in France

European winters are so long. It's November and the big chill has begun. I'm finding it intolerable to work in JC's garden or even in his garage because I get chilled to the bone. Ex-pat forums have turned towards discussing the misery of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) as we face ice, snow, rain, minus degrees and especially gloomy grey skies until April 2014. I'm surprised the Brits are commenting on this. Aren't they used to that back in Old Blighty?

There's that pervading question now, "What can I do to amuse myself or be productive indoors?" Options are limited for me. I don't have a social network or any regular friends except JC so I'm reaching out to encourage French folks and any expats living near me to meet up and see if friendships develop. It's early days. I tried this some time ago, several times but nothing went anywhere. Last week I met Jocelyne who lives in a little stone village and teaches ballroom dancing. maybe I'll meet Jacquelyne, who is American, next week.

To amuse myself and do something that moves me forward I've been researching and organising what to do during Laura's visit next year. It will be three years since I've seen my daughter and each of us will have changed a bit. Recently I got to thinking about a sub-dream I had years ago, back when Laura was around 14 years old. I thought I'd have had my house paid off in Auckland, that I'd have steady employment and that I could have saved up so the two of us could have a little tour of France and Italy after Laura finished High School. Circumstances put paid to all  that but the idea bided its time and popped out recently and I've realised that, crikey, I'm going to make it happen.

OK, so the red Ferarri won't be there. It will be substituted by trains and buses but Laura and I will at last be swanning around the French and Italian Riviera together. I've found myself spending hundreds of hours late each night learning about distances, cheap accommodation options, transport costs, day trips, activities in places I've never been and those I touched on back in 2010 (see blog posts for June of that year).

This time with a bit more French language competence and general confidence I'm focussing on us having more contact with locals and getting out into the countryside, not just visiting the ritzy spots like Cannes and St Tropez (which may not even be on my list). There are other cool things to do. Borrowing against my tenanted house in Auckland is making a week in the South of France possible for us and helps me pay my rent for a year. Very sensible of me to keep my old home as a source of funds for emergencies.

JC and I attended an evening concert in the old Orangerie at the Chateau de Maintenon (Eure et Loir) which is near where each of us lives. It was a piano duet recital by two young ladies who have teamed up to spread their love of this type of music. An old lady sitting next to me kept wanting to have a conversation with me. I think she was lonely, so I did my best to speak to her and when I couldn't think of anything to say or I couldn't understand her I made the usual French 'noises' and interjections which indicated I'm in complete agreement and am actually very wise. Works every time as the French make a lot of 'noises' in between words and love onomatopeia.

I enjoyed the concert by Aurelie Samani (France) and Gabriela Ungureau (Hungary). They played pieces by Dvorak, Enescu, Schubert, Debussy and Pitts. Not my favourite pieces abut exceptionally well played nonetheless.

It's the end of harvest time. JC has baskets of walnuts. Quinces and apples have fallen from his trees and are being transformed into varieties of jam. I had never had apple jam (not jelly) before. He's been experimenting and sometimes I help with the peeling and stirring. naturally I want to profit from the odd jar or two.

The golden apples off JC's trees are organic and so not pretty to look at but good for jam. The quinces were rather small so they were supplemented by bought ones which are much bigger and come from Spain.  he has made apple and cinnamon jam laced with Calvados, Quince and apple laced with polish vodka, apple jam with three sorts of raisins laced with Calvados - and he's just getting started but I must admit the peeling is the worst part. However, I have a couple of jars in my fridge now for my contribution.
 
OOOh those quinces- they are fabulous in jam. Reminds me of
 the jams my Gran used to make. That's one of the things I enjoy about France - I can rediscover things I enjoyed about NZ 50 years ago (foods, wildflowers and British weeds etc). They've all but disappeared in NZ but they continue in France.

And then there are the things I only saw in cartoons when I was small but which really exist here. I looked outside JC's bedroom window this morning and saw a Woody Woodpecker foraging in the lawn. They're bigger than you think, almost as big as a pigeon or a large starling, with a red splosh down the head and neck. Very cool. There was no Wile E Coyote today.