Food wastage

There's not much new going on here at the moment, except for my being frantically busy and us getting yet more rain. I swear the rain has been on and off for six weeks - I'm kinda getting fed up of it now, I have to admit, even though I don't actually mind the rain. As for the "frantically busy" bit, well that is just the current work cycle. I prepare two large meetings a year (July and December) and four big reports (two for each meeting). Not that I actually write the reports - we have eggheads to do that - I just put it all together ready for translation/publication. So at this time of year it is pretty busy - not that I am complaining - I like to be busy and you do get a sense of achievement when the bl***dy things are published.

Traffic is pretty bad (or maybe even getting worse) here in Geneva, what with the ongoing works to build the CEVA (the train that will link the local French area with the central train station in Geneva, thereby (hopefully) cutting down on thru-traffic in the city centre. Can't wait for that to go through, of course, but I fear it will probably be too late for me as I will, hopefully, be retired by the time that is completed.

On top of that, the Swiss have just voted yes to building a bridge over Lake Geneva, also with the aim of easing traffic through the city, but this time I know it will be too late for me work-wise, though it should eventually have a positive impact on the city nevertheless. Geneva is, of course, stunningly beautiful but since it is located at the end of the lake, pretty much all the traffic wanting to get from the south bank to the north bank of the lake (i.e. ME) has to go across the Mont Blanc bridge, and that is a nightmare!

I come in from France (to the south), and although I park at the border and catch the bus, I still spend at least 40 minutes each way on the bus to get over the lake. It is what it is, I suppose, and I (like everyone else) just have to put up with it.  It's worse in the winter of course or if there is an accident, but at least catching the bus allows me to get tons of reading done, which I would do anyway, so I'm thinking positive here.

Which leads me to my next point. I was recently on the bus reading a local French magazine and an article on a new French law aimed at stopping food waste. I'm pretty sure this has already gone through, though I don't know the exact date. Under this law (and I am paraphrasing here) all grocery stores/supermarkets over 400 square metres in size have one year to come to an agreement with a local entity whereby any food near its sell-by date which they would otherwise throw out will be donated to that entity. Presumably a local charity or food bank.  Moreover, they are no longer allowed to pour bleach over it in the trash cans to render it unusable!

I think this is a wonderful initiative, aimed at reducing food waste and helping out local food banks etc. in the process.

Every week when I go shopping I pick up a couple of extra items of food, and when I have a box full I take it down to the local food bank. It is run by the Red Cross, who do a wonderful job with limited resources. They know me now and took me round their storage unit last time I was there. I have to admit it is pretty small and depending on the time of year they can come quite close to running out of supplies, since they are only allowed to collect outside the supermarkets once or twice a year. These people soldier on, however, and I have nothing but admiration for them.

Since I got landed with a bunch of my ex' stuff when he upped sticks, I asked them last time if they needed clothing and it turns out they are indeed happy to take that too. They work with the local psychiatric hospital and were particularly keen to get hold of men's coats over the winter - men, it seems, being more likely than women to end up homeless and in dire need of warm outer clothing. I have been able to give them eight coats so far, which must be a win-win situation for everyone!

Anyway, I think the French are to be commended for this initiative and can only hope that the UK and others will follow suit. In fact, in his recent programme on supermarket waste, the wonderful Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall went out one night "dumpster diving" with volunteers from a local soup kitchen, taking perfectly good food from supermarket bins that was being thrown away and lugging it back to the soup kitchens to make into dinner for those in need. The young man said that he had once been placed in the back of a police car and had begged the supermarket to file a complaint and the police to arrest him - but of course the supermarket wouldn't because of the bad press it would generate. Good on him, and good on France - let's hope it catches on!

Don't let the facts get in the way there!

You know how sometimes sh#t happens, well it happened to me last week. I got home on Tuesday evening and there were two messages on my answering machine. Usually I just ignore them because I get, on average, I would guess, three calls per day from telemarketers, which I just delete. They drive me nuts but, like most people I guess, I don't see how I can stop them. Moreover, I am now starting to get calls from Swiss as well as French numbers and at first I thought about calling back.  When I checked in the Swiss telephone directory, however, they actually have a note posted to the effect that this number is being used for unsolicited telemarketing!

Anyway, back to the story line. I did listen to these messages and the one that jumped out at me was "garble, garble, I swallowed my adenoids, Gendarmerie"! So I listened again and got the same mangled message but just about made out the "Gendarmerie" bit in my local town. I called back immediately only to find an answering service. So then I called again the next day and told them I couldn't understand the name of the person who had left the message but here is my mobile number. Well nobody called back so I called yet again the next day. I ended up chasing my tail like this until this Friday when I got a "convocation" to attend the Gendarmerie on 30 May. Since I knew it was open on the Saturday I stopped in Saturday morning. The young man there was very pleasant and told me that it was to do with an incident in my local LIDL where I had apparently knocked over the pole where you punch in a code in order to get out of the parking lot.

Well let's back up a bit. My local LIDL is opposite several apartment blocks and people from those apartments were using LIDL's parking lot so much that shoppers were turning away as they couldn't find parking. I have done this myself, preferring not to waste my time and going to another store. Very wisely LIDL began installing entrance and exit barriers, where you took the number off your LIDL receipt and punched it into the keypad on the pole at the exit to get out.

Now I had pulled into LIDL on Saturday 7th May to do some shopping and as I drove past this pole it fell over. I didn't hit it - it had obviously been clobbered by someone previously, and in any case was only in the initial stages of being installed so I would guess not totally stable. Well someone must have taken down my number plate and reported it to LIDL, who, it turns out, then filed a complaint against me at the local Gendarmerie.

Anyway, on the Saturday morning the young gendarme was very pleasant but couldn't help me. He told me to come back on the Monday morning to meet with the "big boss".  So that's what I did. Turns out the "big boss" obviously had a thing for himself in uniform (love yourself much mate?) and he began to spout off about how "I had been filmed in my 4 x 4 on the evening of Friday 6th May knocking down this pole".  It took a second to dawn on me but when I queried the time and date again he repeated what he had said. So I pointed out to him that it couldn't have been me as I was flying back from England from my mother's funeral (thank you mom!) and had landed in Geneva around 10 pm that evening, before picking up my car from the airport around 11 pm.

Well that seemed to annoy the shit out of him so he said "well it must have been your husband". (To be fair, they knew my ex well since I had had to call them out on several occasions due to his violence and they actually arrested him at one point, but I digress). When I pointed out to him that I was divorced and that my ex was in the US he said "well it must have been one of your kids". By this time he was beginning to annoy me so I told him I didn't have any kids (I have two but what's a little white lie between friends). He was a real tw@t I can tell you and when he realized I had got him he basically said "see you in court then"!

So I walked on down to LIDL (again) to try to speak to the lady who had filed the complaint and yet again she wasn't there. The young man in charge, however, agreed with me that it couldn't have been me because the film was definitely of a 4 x 4 in the parking lot on the Friday evening. I told him I drove a Ford Mondeo and outlined my story so he said he would take it up with the boss when she got in.

In the meantime, I tried to call LIDL but they go through a centralized telephone unit and they refused to put me through!!!! When I explained my situation to the customer service agent she said to send her an email and she would forward it to the lady concerned.

So I have fired off an email to them and put a copy of my letter, plus flight tickets, etc. in a registered letter to them, asking them "for God's sake call me back".  We'll see.

I have to admit I don't usually have any problems with local officers. I cross the border every day and 99 times out of 100 the customs officers/police are only ever friendly and helpful.  Trust me to get a Rambo-wannabee!  Anyway, we'll see what happens next.  Watch this space!

A weekend of celebrations

My youngest son is 24 today, so I had asked them a while back if I could invite them over to dinner sometime to celebrate his birthday. I completely understood that they might want to be with their friends on the Saturday night (I mean, who wants to spend a Saturday night with your mom when you can be with friends right?) but he and his girlfriend sent me a message on Friday and said "how about we go out tonight to celebrate his (upcoming) birthday and Mother's Day"?  Mother's Day in France is always the last Sunday in May, while in Switzerland (where my other son lives) it usually falls mid-May.

So on Friday night we went out to dinner at the one-and-only restaurant in the village where I live. The food is good, the people are friendly and the views are spectacular so what's not to like!

The weather hasn't been great (indeed it was pretty rubbish all weekend), so that was excuse enough for me to order my absolute favourite dish "tartiflette".

It's pure stodge really but eat it with a salad (to feel virtuous) and a selection of dried meats and for me it is pure heaven. Jordan is (finally) developing a taste for cheese and chose a lovely goat's cheese and honey salad and Jen had a burger, which is something new for this restaurant as they are not a "burger joint", but she said it was very good anyway.

Jen and the (almost) birthday boy!

I often just pop up to their place on a Sunday for a little while but it was really nice to spend an evening with them "down here". As Jen had lived with us for about three years anyway many of their friends are local to me, so after dinner they went and called in on some of their friends from the village - a nice bunch of kids I have to say.

Since Sunday was Mother's Day they had brought me a present and I am absolutely thrilled with it! I sent a picture of "Daisy" the cow to OH and he came back saying he thought it was a clown. Bear with me, he is having his cateracts operated on in a couple of weeks!

Isn't she lovely! I had nipped out to the garden centre and bought the thyme for my garden but I think Daisy looks rather great with her new haircut - something about her hair puts me in mind of James Brown, although I'm sure his hair didn't smell of thyme!

On the Sunday it absolutely peed down but my friend and I did make the effort to trudge out to the garden centre and then on to another local vide-grenier. It was such a shame as a lot of effort goes into putting these events together and it really was pretty much rained out. We did treat ourselves to merguez and chips though and to be honest trudging round in the rain didn't really phase us too much as we are both Brits, but I did feel sorry for the event organizers all the same.

And so, on to today, it really is Jordan's birthday. I can't believe he is 24 already.You know, I remember very much when he was a baby and toddler, but after that the years just seem to have flown by. If anyone knows how to make time slow down (or keep it in a bottle as the inimitable Jim Croce would say) please let me know how you do it. It is so lovely to look back over those times but they are gone before you know it.

So happy birthday Jordan. Quarter of a century next year!

We never did find those car keys!

 

As a post script, I'll leave you with one of Jordan's little gems. I have shoulder length brown hair with a slight wave in it. No matter what I have tried to do with it over the years it always comes back to looking like "shoulder length brown hair with a slight wave in it", so in the end I just gave up. When Jordan was about 10 he suddenly looked at me one day and said:

 

J     "Oh mommy, you're so lucky, I really love your hair"!

 

Me     (stunned) "Well thanks sweetheart, it's really nice of you to say that".

 

J     "Yeah, I mean, you look just like Simba in the Lion King!"

 

While that may have burst my bubble, hey I'll take compliments wherever I can find them!

Belle and Sebastian

When I was a little girl I remember being entranced watching the French series "Belle and Sebastian" about a little boy and his Pyreneen mountain dog (Belle). I can't recall much more about it except the stunning scenery and the fact that it was French language with English sub-titles. I remember asking my mom if they really were speaking another language or was it just gobbledy gook, and she said "oh gobbledy gook I expect"!!! Anyway, from that day on, I wanted (a) Belle, and (b) to speak gobbledy gook.

I did get to speak gobbley gook eventually, as much from my love of languages as from the fact that if we didn't go down the "languages" route, we would have to go down the "sciences" route, so it turned out to be the lesser of two evils, as you can see, 'cos me and sciences just didn't see eye to eye.

Anyway, although at the time I never did get a "Belle", when I was a young teenager we somehow managed to twist our parents arms (by asking them when they were half asleep) and ended up with a lovely border collie mutt.

Now border collies really are working sheep dogs, of course, not that ours ever had to work a day in his life, but we loved that old mutt anyway. But now, eventually, I have gotten to see my very own "Belle". Well it's not mine of course, but for the first time in the 27+ years I have lived in this house, the farmer has put sheep in the field behind the house. He initially had dairy cattle when we moved in and then alternately raised donkeys and horses (beautiful to see them running on a sunny day), but as of about a couple of weeks ago, we must have 100 sheep in the field behind us!

And, they have got their very own "Belle"!

They call them patou in French, but they are effectively Pyreneen mountain dogs. It has been lovely to watch how he protects his flock, but I was amazed to learn that these dogs are essentially nocturnal by nature. They are fiercely protective but incredibly gentle with the little ones. To watch how Belle herds the sheep up the mountains is a sight for sore eyes. And the weirdest thing happened the other day. While sheep of course bleat and baaaa, and they have their "cowbells" on them at all times, when Belle was herding them further up the mountain they made the strangest groaning noise, the likes of which I have never heard before. It was a really loud, spooky sound - a bit like the noise I make at the thought of another gym class, but multiply that by 100 sheep!

I don't know how much longer they will be staying on the field behind the house, but 50 years later I am so glad that I finally got to see my very own "Belle"!

Lazy weekend - well not really!

Last weekend they had forecast nice weather for the Saturday and then "iffy" for Sunday. By the time I got back from England they had had tons of rain and not being able to cut my grass before, I swear it looked like I lived in the Serengeti! It gets to me when things look a mess so I was determined to get all caught up with the housework, washing, ironing, and so on and then decided that just in case it was going to pee down on Sunday I had better get the grass cut as well. I must be mad!

I don't have a very big garden but the part at the end, which actually looks like it belongs to me, is in fact a fireman's access right of way. It runs round the back of all our houses to allow access to firecrew in the event of an emergency. It is also, supposedly, to be maintained by its owners, the local HLM bank, but who, in the 27 years I have lived here, have never set foot on it (nor indeed, ever set foot on it according to my neighbours). In order not to look like we live in a pigsty therefore, we homeowners have always maintained our respective parts of it. Actually, we are in the process of negotiating buying our individual plots off the HLM (ongoing as we speak) in order to prevent them from potentially putting in an access road to any future housing developments that might be built in the fields above us - but that will most likely be the subject of another post).

Anyhoo, I nearly snuffed it cutting that bloody grass. It was so hot and so heavy once all that wet grass hit the lawnmower bag. Never again in that heat I can tell you although, like I said, I really wanted to get that crossed off my to-do list before it got any worse.

So, having got everything I wanted done on the Saturday I decided to go up the mountains to visit my son and his girlfriend to drop off some paperwork. They bought the sweetest little kitten a couple of months ago, and while I am not a cat person, this kitten is absolutely bonkers.

Leni

Up until recently they had been keeping it in the house, but then he got adventurous and went out onto their rather large balcony, really curious to have a good look around. Anyway, Jen decided to throw some bread out for the donkeys in the field right next to them, at which point Leni pulled himself up to his full 8 inches and 5 ounces and took a flying leap off the balcony to try to catch the bread. My son said to imagine the song "I believe I can fly" being sung and Leni flying off in slow motion looking like this:

He said it was sooooo cute - and then they had to dash off in hot pursuit! I'm not sure Leni will be content to stay around the house too much longer.

After we had left them we decided to go down to a local vide-grenier (car boot, to all intents and purposes). The only difference is that they tend to be organized by the local communes so there are always food and drinks stands, and often much more (as this time, a bouncy castle etc.). It was being held in the local village of Arenthon.

 

Arenthon vide-greniers

It's not the biggest nor the best but it was nice. Trouble is it was again scorching hot - the heat only being made bearable when the wind picked up - and boy did it pick up. It came in great gusts so people were having to hang onto their parasols and stuff and the men behind the bar were actually holding down its metal roof at one time, just in case it flew off - which obviously would have been very dangerous. We had just ordered sausage and fries when the wind caught mine and I ended up with a lap full of mustard and fries - not quite the look I was going for but I wasn't the only one that got caught out, I suspect.

While I didn't actually need anything (do you ever?) and going totally against the grain of getting rid of stuff, I actually picked up a few sweet little bargains for the grand sum of €8 - four wine glasses, a bonbonnière and two water glasses. I am well pleased with them!

Trouble is, the vide-greniers go on until October - oh dear, I guess I shall have to work a little harder on the decluttering - or we could just consider it "recycling" in that I borrow this stuff for a while for about eight euros before getting rid of it at the next vide-grenier. Well that's the plan anyway. Still, all-in-all quite a lot of fun can be had for a few euros don't you think? Better than mall shopping anyway!

An evening at the theatre

A couple of weekends ago, after the recent sadness of my mom's passing, it was nice to spend a few hours "getting away from it all" at the theâtre. It was the Geneva Amateur Operatic Society (GAOS) who, yet again, put on an excellent performance - this time of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.

My friend and I tend to go to the Saturday night performances as it is less of a rush for us than going during the week. I have to admit though that I wasn't overly enthusiastic about this one because I don't have particularly great memories of the film - I don't know what it was, but I found the film didn't make much of an impression on me as a youngster, though I have no idea why!

We decided to go anyway, and I have to admit I was more than pleasantly surprised.They put on an excellent show as always and I found myself really enjoying the story. The children performed superbly and certainly held their own against the excellent performances from the adults. For me, the villainous Baron Bomburst, Ruler of Vulgaria, was just outstanding (picture a Mel Brooks kind of character on crack cocaine) and of course the role was an absolute dream for him.While I have no acting talents or ambitions, I couldn't help thinking what a gem of a role that was for someone to camp it up to the hilt - and he certainly did so!

I have to say though, that I was also amazed at how "Chitty" performed! I have no idea how they managed to create a "magic car" but they certainly pulled off an extraordinary feat in the props department - it was amazing. I suppose if I wanted to get involved with something like this group it would be "in the background" as I think it would be just fascinating to see what goes on behind the scenes.

Talking of "behinds", during the interval I went out to get a drink and one unfortunate lady walked passed me holding a young boy by the hand but with about two feet of toilet roll hanging from the back of her jeans! I went to call out to her to let her know but just at that moment there was a surge in the crowd and I lost sight of her. The poor thing - you can only imagine how mortifying that would be. A couple of minutes later, however, she came back in my direction and I was able to attract her attention to let her know. I mean, it wasn't just a little piece of toilet paper - it was almost reaching down to the ground! She of course was horrified (I guess it's like walking out of the ladies with your skirt tucked into your knickers), but, as I said to her, not to worry - if she's lucky she will probably never see me again!

A lovely farewell!

So now it's over and we all got to say our final goodbyes to mom - and what a lovely service it was!

I flew back to the UK last Sunday in order to spend a couple of days with a friend who retired to the Cotswolds. I flew in to Bristol (a first - and a last for me, I think) because it is a smaller airport and closer to the Cotswolds. It's not that I have anything against Bristol of course but getting round the city - on the wrong side of the road for me!! - with all those bloody road works/diversions, etc. was a flaming nightmare. Go ahead, ask me anything you like about Bristol Cathedral - anything - I must have passed the bloody thing at least 10 times and while it is indeed beautiful I really wasn't there for the magical mystery tour! Eventually, however, I managed to make my escape from the city's tentacles and made the 90 minute drive to Lechlade where my friend lives. And again, just like in Wales previously, I had forgotten just how pretty it is.

Lechlade

Of course it was lovely to see my friend and her husband again but the weather also cooperated fully and it really was quite stunning. Their home is a 300-year old cottage with all higgledy-piggledy walls and vertical stairs and absolutely lovely. They also have the daftest dog - a lurcher - who hasn't realized she is the size of a small bus but acts like she is the size of a small pug. But still, a lovely pup indeed.

 

We took my one-and-only day in the Cotswolds to visit the lovely neighbouring town of Burford, and again it was absolutely charming - and not particularly crowded considering it was 1st May.

 

Burford

U took me into her "favourite" shop, and I have to admit it was just like a rabbit warren - a never-ending maze of nooks and crannies. AND - get this - they also had an oldy-worldy sweety shop selling the old fashioned sweets that I remember from my childhood. Chocolate limes, butterscotch - oh it was just heaven, although I'm not sure my dentist will thank me for my indulgences later!

 

On the Tuesday I drove down to Dorset for mom's funeral, which was to take place the following day. And you know, while it was sad, it really was all right! I mean, she hadn't been in ill health, she was 94 and happy, and she just sat down and went to sleep. Who wouldn't want to go like that? I know I would.

 

All five children were there, with just two out of her 10 grandchildren not being able to make it from Denmark. My kids flew in from Geneva after work on the Tuesday night and made it to Dorset at 2 a.m. and then had to fly back out after the funeral on an 8 pm flight - but I am so glad they were able to make it.

 

My sister, who had made all the arrangements, had chosen a semi-religious service as we are not a religious family, and the celebrant had taken the time to sit with my sister and her husband and write down some of their memories and stories. In a case like my mom's I personally don't think the aim is to make people cry, and I have to say that having the celebrant read out some of the silly stories during the service was lovely, and certainly cut the tension. I mean, how about when we went to visit Corfe Castle and my mom scrambled up the hill on all fours to get up to the castle, only for my dad to point out afterwards the pathway which she could have used (and was just out of sight) - I don't think she spoke to him all day after that!



Corfe Castle

After the ceremony, my other sister was telling us that when she was preparing to move to Denmark nearly 40 years ago mom had told her to buy a TV in England to take with her because that way "she could get all the English channels too"! I mean, how lovely is that!

 

The music was also beautiful and I think the only thing that made any of us a bit wobbly was on the order of service they had put a picture of mom and dad in uniform during WWII and as we said our last goodbyes they played Vera Lynn singing "We'll Meet Again". What a lovely choice, but it caused a few tears I can tell you.

 

Mom and dad in Blackpool

 

 

After that we went to the marina for refreshments and then those that could make it went back to my sister's house afterwards, although some had flights to catch and had to dash off. And there we spent several hours telling all the old stories (as you do) and laughing - which in a way is why I am writing this blog because I want those stories to remain for those that are left behind. Can there be a better tribute?

 

Gwladys Myfanwy - "mom"

 

 

God bless!