So I have think I have finally managed to create a blog-spot after having been tangled up with France Google which was all in French (of course!) so I didn't have the foggiest idea of what it was saying.
Now I have been living in France for all of nearly 7 months, and although I can manage the odd word or two, for techno-French it is still no go for my head. Then Voila! just as I was going to give up, there...up the top of the page was a box to choose another language. After considering Chinese as an interesting second choice, I opted for good old English, et voici! Don't know if this will upload so if you are reading this it has. If you haven't then it hasn't! As you can see, living in the caravan has not improved my capacity to think nonsense. It must be the fresh air!
Just to let you know that I have fallen in love. Or been fallen in love with. By Fleur. Who loves my leg. And also Pot Belly Lady. She loves my skirt! Ah the joys of rural France.
But before you think that I am going even further off the planet than is usual for my 60 plus years: Fleur is a white thingummy dog, or chienne; Small, wiry of coat, completely herself, and a free spirit. She was our first visitor when we arrived, and pops in nearly every day to come play with Boolie, our Springer chien, and my leg if she gets a chance.
Of late she has also tried having a practice on the back end of Boolie, who would oblige by practicing on her back end but she has the unfortunate habit of sitting down so he can't.
But that doesn't stop him from trying.
Or her from having a go up my leg if given half the chance. I think she must be cross-wired or something!
As for the Pot Belly Lady, well she lives down the road at the House of the Camels and is the house pig of Sara and Paul. She, too, has a fascination for my legs, and also my shoe laces. It is quite a hoot for her to also grab a mouthful of my skirt.
Since we are camping, this does not improve the general muddy appearance of my mode of dress. Due to camping conditions, the clothes have to be recycled more than would ordinarily be necessary. It does not help if a skirt which is due to be worn for a few days has muddy mouth marks on it on day one.
But heyho! We are camping!
Now I have been living in France for all of nearly 7 months, and although I can manage the odd word or two, for techno-French it is still no go for my head. Then Voila! just as I was going to give up, there...up the top of the page was a box to choose another language. After considering Chinese as an interesting second choice, I opted for good old English, et voici! Don't know if this will upload so if you are reading this it has. If you haven't then it hasn't! As you can see, living in the caravan has not improved my capacity to think nonsense. It must be the fresh air!
Just to let you know that I have fallen in love. Or been fallen in love with. By Fleur. Who loves my leg. And also Pot Belly Lady. She loves my skirt! Ah the joys of rural France.
But before you think that I am going even further off the planet than is usual for my 60 plus years: Fleur is a white thingummy dog, or chienne; Small, wiry of coat, completely herself, and a free spirit. She was our first visitor when we arrived, and pops in nearly every day to come play with Boolie, our Springer chien, and my leg if she gets a chance.
Of late she has also tried having a practice on the back end of Boolie, who would oblige by practicing on her back end but she has the unfortunate habit of sitting down so he can't.
But that doesn't stop him from trying.
Or her from having a go up my leg if given half the chance. I think she must be cross-wired or something!
As for the Pot Belly Lady, well she lives down the road at the House of the Camels and is the house pig of Sara and Paul. She, too, has a fascination for my legs, and also my shoe laces. It is quite a hoot for her to also grab a mouthful of my skirt.
Since we are camping, this does not improve the general muddy appearance of my mode of dress. Due to camping conditions, the clothes have to be recycled more than would ordinarily be necessary. It does not help if a skirt which is due to be worn for a few days has muddy mouth marks on it on day one.
But heyho! We are camping!
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