a schizophrenic citizen

The calves head lined with tongue and tripe stew with carrots and tomatoes were a great success. A grinning group of 75 year olds left Papillon happy and content with full tummies and slightly wobbly walks following rather too much calvados and cider. Meanwhile we closed up, did some admin, then started to prepare for our Monday morning meeting avec madame le juge. Found the tribunal d’instance in Alencon and handed over the sheaths and sheaths of required paperwork. Amazing. Nothing seemed to be missing. Translations were in order, we had the right documents, the bank manager and notaires had come up trumps and provided us with the right stuff, the clerk of the court was more and more relaxed as the mile-long list of things required had their little boxes ticked. Phewwwww. All that needs doing now is for the dossier to be assembled and then Gregoire and I pass before a jolly of judges (not sure of the collective term, but jolly seems the least likely and yet most fitting) and one year later I get a big fat rubber stamp on all my papers as well as a lovely spanking new carte d’identité plus, most importantly, and my reason for doing all this really, the right to vote in Presidential elections. Et alors mes amis. Dual nationality could be mine in July 2009. We went to Alençon in my Golf (named the chick-mobile) and she drove like a dream. Even overtook on a coupla occasions. Gregoire has since replaced brake pads on the XM (which had merrily worn down to the metal and were probably highly illegal and extremely dangerous) and we are now back to having 2 roadworthy vehicles. Probably a first for us. Soon, the big motorbike will be going and we will be a truly happy family. Tomorrow I teach my first student, so am once more preparing for the lesson, and should therefore sign off and get back to my lesson planning.