Tenterhook time

I am not a person who enjoys being on an edge, either physical or mental, but so often, in a variety of experiences over the years, I have felt taken to the very edge of a horrendous precipice before the situation has changed for the better: for example, once upon a long time ago, I was finally offered a job I could take (even though it was 105 miles from where I was then living) after six months of hunting, when I was down to £200 in my bank account and had a mortgage to keep paying. There are other examples I won't bore you with!

Today feels like we're very close to that edge again, waiting to hear whether our house purchasers have finally got their mortgage confirmed, after unexplained delays, the very existence of which we were uninformed of until last week. If they have, then our own purchase can go ahead; if not......... 
The immobilier, who is supposed to be managing our sale, said she will phone us today. It is already 13.13 and the phone has not rung, despite 13 being my best number.

So we have progressed, if you can call it that, from being on the edges of our seats to being stretched pretty much to our limits. Now I recognise that tenterhooks were employed (in the process of making woollen cloth) for the benefit of the cloth - so that it would keep its shape and size as it dried on the big frame - the tenter - but I'm not sure it's quite so beneficial for keeping us in psychological and emotional good shape, rather the reverse; and I don't subscribe to the view that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

The word 'tenter' apparently comes from the Latin tendere, meaning 'to stretch'. Stretched as we are, a bit of tenderness from the Universe wouldn't come amiss please, other than the delightful first sighting of a Zebra Swallowtail Butterfly on our buddleia bushes.

p.s. 
Two hours later: We have at last heard that our purchasers have got their mortgage. Hu-bloody-rah. However, they have to wait ten days before returning some paperwork to their bank (who knows why; apparently it's a legal requirement), and only then do the bank let our Notaire know, so that she can complete the paperwork for the sale and request the release of funds so it goes through. The upshot of which is that the earliest likely completion date has slipped by another week, to about 3rd August. But of course that won't be confirmed until about a week beforehand. I'm all for spontaneity, but such short notice, when there's so much to arrange, seems (Frankly) bizarre to me.

Oh, and by the way, The William has today received his Carte Vitale. I've long since stopped counting the years & months since our application. Everything comes to s/he who waits???....................

Let them eat gateau?

So, Bastille Day - the Fête nationale of France - commemorating both the storming of the Bastille (and the liberation of all seven of its prisoners) in 1789 and the Fête de la Fédération celebrating peace and French unity the following year. And this year the parade in Paris included U.S. troops, to mark the centenary of their joining in the First World War, and was graced by the presence of Trump... We will pass over his comment yesterday of the 'good shape' of Mme. Macron.

French holidays are a curiosity. Of the eleven public holidays, six are Christian festivals: Easter Monday, Ascension Day, Whit Monday, the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, All Saints Day, and Christmas. The remaining five are New Year's Day, Labour Day, VE Day, Bastille Day, and Armistice Day.  

In an avowedly secular state, is this a case of having your cake and eating it? Lacking which, we marked the day in good Elizabeth David fashion, with an omelette and a glass of wine. Salut!

The ubiquity of lentils

We had dhal and rice for supper last evening; today I am still discovering dry red lentils where they never were before. How do they do that? I know they are said to be one of the healthiest foods we can eat, but no-one to my knowledge has addressed their escapologist tendencies. Is it just that they are small? Is it just that I am clumsy? I'm usually not: perhaps they just bring it out in me. Or is there some other subtle reason?!

p.s. Comments welcome, on this or any other post!

Of sunflowers and celebrations

Wednesday 5th July 2017

July already. The sunshine has come back to us, scorchingly hot, and the sunflowers are blooming wonderful! 

I'm harvesting seeds every day, from our poppies, nigella and honesty, so at least we'll have some colour in the new garden next year. I love self- seeding plants, although our raised beds are at the moment overwhelmed with a jungle of self-seeded tomato and pepper plants.

We now only have two weeks to go before the removal man & van come to take away all our stuff - and we still don't have confirmed dates for completion of either the sale or the purchase: talk about going to the edge! As a forward planner I find this difficult: is it an exercise in trust, faith, and patience, or in sheer bloody-minded determination that it will happen?

William is doing sterling work, sorting out transfers of utilities, mail re-direction, and booking a couple of Ibis hotels to lodge at for at least the first weekend of homelessness, one in Rochefort, the other back in Pontivy, where we stayed while house hunting. Much more tiring than one might expect, doing all these things in a second language and according to unfamiliar systems.

But this hiatus has given us the opportunity to have two very useful conversations.

The first was about The Future. Having completed our Three Year Plan of time in the sun, and conscious that we're both now in our 60s, we've now come up with a Ten Year Plan. Well done us! And it's simply this: to enjoy our new home in Brittany for at least ten years (no surprise there!) and then minimalise our possessions, sell up, move into rented accommodation (somewhere near the coast would be nice) and enjoy using whatever money we get from the sale (minus rent & basics of course) while not having to think about who to leave anything to. It's genius. 

The second conversation started with my encouraging The William, once we're unpacked, to get on with some research he's been wanting to do for a long time, but not had the energy or support to progress. The working title of it is 'Peter, Paul, and Mary' - and no, it's not about the folk/pop group of the 1960s! But the upshot of the conversation was that The William is now encouraging me to get on with my work as a liturgist (which sounds a bit posh, but isn't) and complete my series of simple, domestic celebrations to mark the turning year, natural as well as traditional/ecclesiastical. So I am. And a very nice break from packing boxes it is too!

Watch this space (or the one above it) for the first of the series, which is for the celebration of Lammas on 1st August.