Thursday, 26 September 2013

September slipping into October, from Carcassonne

Oh dear, the intention was to go up to La Cité in time to catch the glorious pink early evening sky with masses of those wonderful blobby clouds and the jagged tracks of aeroplanes as they head off to unknown destinations but I arrived too late.  Instead I was left wondering to myself, who is on those planes, are they looking down as they soar over Carcassonne twinkling below them or are they pre-occupied with the places left behind or new horizons yet to discover ?  And I sit quietly by myself totally content and happy to savour these random thoughts.  I sit in a corner hidden out of sight, my back pressed firmly against the warm stone of these wonderfully historic walls watching the golden orb of the sun light up the horizon, an angry bloodied red adding to the dramatic setting.

The Autumn is gently descending on us as the first chill is felt on my way each morning to the boulangerie.  I realise another year has slipped like fine sand through my fingers and I haven't quite decided what I shall make of 2013 in a few months time but I did try and explain to someone that this year I have been 'anxious' and when someone is anxious they tend to keep a low profile bottling up their anxiety like a precious ointment instead of opening up the top and distributing it to the wind.

And there are so many times I have opened up my blogspot wanting to shout, tell a few tales, spill the beans especially on people waxing lyrical on 'living the dream' when in reality it can be a complete nightmare with no safety barrier inbetween the two.  Ask anyone who lives here (second home owners who flit over sporadically DO NOT count) about French bureaucracy and they will invariably reach for a glass of chilled rosé or their eye's will glaze over, anything to ease the pain before their soul is pierced to the core and withers away by endless administration.  No wonder the pen pushers all take August off and the entire country including the roads grinds to a halt, one month to recover from fobbing people off for the rest of the year.  And we all know who the worst offenders are don't we ? and if you think I would be so foolish as to spell it out in writing here you would be very much mistaken.  My goodness the paperwork would fly so quickly you would think it was bewitched as they slapped a writ on you for daring to utter what any sane person would think, how have they got away with it for so long ?  For good measure (and only if you are very lucky for the full French experience) they may send round the huissiers (bailiffs) for failing to pay a bill that you hadn't been sent in the first place because invariably the service hadn't been provided that you had reasonably requested or even not requested.

But 'hey ho (shrugs with hands gesturing hopelessness), guess what after that little outburst ? I feel quite pleased with myself in a small significant way because I

1/ Finally got to the beach and swam

2/ Got myself a new bike to reward myself for all my hard work,( I've nearly completed my third year all on my own), AND it's nearly Christmas, AND I had a birthday this year...
Finally, No.11 is benefitting from a completely new roof and 'may' even get full insulation to boot. Could be this year, could be next year depending on the paperwork.

Which leads me to the obvious conclusion, that my life recently has consisted of lots of 'B's

Beach, Bikes, Bureaucracy.

BRILLIANT but never boring !



CampbellSmiddy said...

Great museings.
Don't you have a birthday every year?

Sallys Chateau said...

I do indeed CampbellSmiddy, and every year I think to myself isn't it wonderful to have such a valid excuse to completely spoil yourself rotten !

Pondside said...

Now that was a slice of reality, and one that anyone considering a move to France should ponder. All in all, though, your attitude is admirable. I like to think that the petty bureaucrats all quake at the thought of a skirmish with La Belle Anglaise!