Classroom antics

Entre les Murs (or The Class directed by Laurent Cantet) has won the Palme d'Or. Brilliant news. In a France where the a**ehole of a president is systematically trying to destroy the public education system, a film about life in a tough Paris school wins the coveted Palme d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. Hailed by critics for the "simplicity and clarity of direction, and the honesty and charm of his non-professional cast ...like a refreshing glass of ice-cold water" it is proof that good gritty low-budget cinema still exists. Great news for french cinema and even better news for low budget production houses the world over.

wild rice

am addicted to www.freerice.com

go on - just try it out - it is SOOOOOO cool.

I am in the process of creating a temporary website for the village, to bring us kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Am experiencing some resistance, but I shall battle on. The sun was out briefly this week - and sadly our rhododendron is now looking a bit pale and lost - having been most splendiferous for a while. Julian and Josie popped in for lunch today avec ma and pa. Lovely to see them, shame they left the monsterbus in Chatillon though..I would have liked to have seen St Fraimbault eclipsed into darkness by their campervan. Ce soir is council meeting pour moi.....efforts are being made to ensure that it doesn't finish at 2am, on verra, on verra.

beelzebub has a devil put aside for me....

such amazing weather this week. Very end is nigh. Hailstorms the size of golf balls, car accidents littering the roads in a very messay fashion, dark, murderous skies hovering menacingly over the villages and orchards of the bocage. Scary indeed. And yet still I chose to drive to and from Flers every day - such madness. Do windscreens get tested for hailstone velocity I wonder...

had me in stitches

had the nasty stitches removed - ouch ouch ouch - and yes, it hurt, and yes, I cried. But now my hand is free and nearly back to normal, though I still wear my black silk fingerless glove as a style statement. Last night we hosted Polo's farewell party (he is heading to Kosovo on a peace keeping mission with the French army) and it was very late, very rowdy, very funny, very good...as with all parties it finished with many "I really really love you" moments from the tipsier members of the group. This morning the terrace is littered with a confetti of tab ends - sure sign of a good evening.

Brrrrrrrrm, brrrrrrrm

Sunday. Busy lunch au Papillon, hot, hot stormy sultry day, and after service off we drove to St Cornier for Grégoire's annual treat outing to the puces-moto. Looked everywhere for replacement side mirrors (and found them - the pair for ten euros - bargain) and just enjoyed hanging out with the bikers. Smell of leathers and lube everywhere. Lovely. Got home and I did a quick change out of my biker chick gear into a little 60's style dress and head off to Mandy's for a girl's get together. Elle & Mandy had done us proud and cooked up a fab feast ...topped off with a Mandy dessert special - a scrummy squidgetastic strawberry charlotte. Pontpierre cottage is looking rather gorgeous, very spacious and rather roomy, a lovely evening was had by all. Feels like summer is on it's way.

put to sleep - part II. hands up.

Met a lovely surgeon (hand and bone specialist) who decided that I had trapped tendons and my bumpy finger was an irrelevant but fortunate aside (otherwise I wouldn't have noticed my finger gradually losing flexion). So last Friday I toddled along to la clinique and 8 hours later was back home and nursing a slightly sore and certainly unsightly hand, though as I was still sous l'effet of morphine I really didn't give a toss :) My supposedly straightforward operation ended up being *complicated*....mainly caused by me being a "bleeder" on the operating table and it involving tourniquets and lots of mops. Heh heh heh. The problem was more than just tendons apparently, a bit of bone reshaping happened too. Whatever. My hands now hurts like fuckery-duckery (the morphine only lasting 24 hours sadly) and I have the biggest motherf* of a bandage on it I have ever seen. Quite unnecessary. I need to exercise my fingers as much as possible, I'm just not allowed to do any turning or unscrewing motions. Handy when you own a restaurant and unscrewing bottles is a major part of my job. The stitches - a lovely little neat line of blue sutures across my palm - come out on 14th May. The clinic was fab, the staff delightful, my room lovely and sunny. I am of course still working, a bit slower than usual, but have wrapped a rather attractive red scarf around my bandage to hide it's ugliness. Very New Romantics. Very 1980's.