Rural Life

Must get better photos!

So it's like this:

• two weeks ago we had the final stages of the masonry project at the back of the house to deal with, plus next door's new kitten
• last week I was tearing round the UK trying to earn an honest crust
• this week I have to catch up with all teh work that didn't get done last week as I was tearing around the UK

All of this impinges on two things, my ability to sort out photos and my ability to find nice ones to adorn this blog, or even to write something for this blog or my other one.

So in order to prove I still exist, and in a vain attempt to spur myself into finding something better jolly quickly, I put in the photo below.

It was taken on a friend's Blackberry and quite late in the evening, hence the grainy quality, on Easter Sunday when the really rather good Dutch band, Forty Fingers, were playing a gig outside the Excaliber Pub in our village.  The picture is of my frind Kathy and myself with a pair of pigs ears Kathy had brought over for me from their small haolding - I am a fan of eating pigs ears.  But by the time this was taken, we had both had a couple of Stellas....

French Comic Films

The theme for the Comice at Pontigne was Comic Films, and this was reflected in the grand procession of floats on the Sunday afternoon.  How many of these great works have you heard of, let alone seen?  And let's be clear - some of these are the biggest grossing films in France of all time!

The procession always starts with what they call the Ambassadrices - we would say carnival queens - and the Cadets de Baugeois - be glad there is no sound.

Next came le Vieil Bauge as we will be hosting the Comice next year.  Our chosen film was Les Bronzes font du Ski - about a bunch of middle aged swingers who go on Club Med holidays together, this time skiing.  I think there are four or five in the series, most of which were huge at the box office.

Vaulandry were next, and I never really got to see anywhere on their float the name of the film, but from the float I would imagine it was Les Enfants du Marais with Jacques Villeret - actually a very nice little film, but the frog fishing scenes were the best.  In some ways this procession was an hommage to Jacques Villeret and Louis de Funes, of whom more later.

Fougere decided to look more to Hollywood and Walt Disney and did a fine representation of Herbie - although they don't actually call him Herbie over here.

Following them, were Bauge with the first of the Louis de Funes films - le Gendarme de St Tropez.  Louis was kind of the French Norman Wisdom, but funny.

Next up, Le Guedeniau with another Louis de Funes film that is currently also doing the rounds as a musical - so they very bravely stopped every 50 metres and did a dance - Rabbi Jakob - and yes, they are all dressed up as Jews.

Next two pictures of the two floats of Chevire le Rouge, which we were fairly convinced were depicting the Frank Dubosc film Camping (top of the summer box office here 3 years ago - Frank is French Canadian and deeply worrying).

Then Boce - one of the smaller communes - who put on a fine display with another Louis de Funes film, La Grande Vadrouille.  I gather it was hugely popular in its time and is often shown on French TV.  The bloke who seems to be holding a pumpkin in his hand, is actually holding a water bomb made to look like a pumpkin - he was a very good shot, but it was so hot, no one minded.

Clefs came next with the biggest grossing French film of all time, and indeed the film that had the most ever cinema entrances in France of any film.  It is called Bienvenue chez les Ch'tis, starred Danny Boon and came out in 2008.

If you have ever taken the fast road between Saumur and La Fleche, you will have passed through Cuon.  This year they came up with a film Le Petit Baigneur - another Louis de Funes film from 1968 and not one I have heard of at all, but a rather sweet float.

St Martin d'Arce was next in line.  They did Asterix and Obelix in fine style - but personally I prefer the books to the films.  We all cheered until we realised we were about to get "magic potion" thrown at us, which seemed to be dirty dish water (I hope it wasn't).

Then St Quentin les Beaurepaires - a tiny village off the main road - which did what I am told is a great French classic - Le Pere Noel est un Ordure.  I never think it wise to mock Father Christmas - you never know, as I saw him finishing his rounds one Christmas morning at Fontain Guerin!

Montpollin had several outriders before the main float turned up as they portrayed the film Mais ou est donc passe la 7eme Compagnie?  The French do a fine line in comedy films about the war.

Chartrene is the smallest commune in the Department - only about 50 registered voters and a few more people than that (mostly British).  They did another Louis de Funes film, but by this stage, my knowledge of these is totally exhausted (though no one did the Fantomas sequence - happily).

Echimire decided to take on the Jean Reno films - Les Visiteurs - about a rather tetchy medieval knight who gets sent forward in time, and doesn't much enjoy it.  I believe his catch phrase in the films was C'est dingue! - it's crazy!

Finally Pontigne brought up the rear, in place of honour with the finest and most highly regarded of all French Comic Films - even more than M Hulot's Holiday - La Soupe au Chou - about a couple of old peasants who make a wicked cabbage soup.  The disturbed digestion they get from this makes them fart a lot, which turns out to be an inter-galactic greeting and brings them Denree, who comes in search of cabbage soup, and brings gifts in return.  Denree is played by Jacques Villeret in an early role.  It cannot be called high art, but does epitomise French films - Truffaut was an abberation.

More from the Comice at Pontigne 2009

I couldn't leave it with just the photo from the dress rehearsal, so here are the Vieil Bauge Transylvanians doing the Time Warp, and at that moment we were keeping our knees in tight!

Once we had done all that fun stuff, the competitive inter-villages games were a pretty serious bout of tug-of-war.  We were outsized by most villages, and puffed from doing the dancing and quick changes behind a caravan.  That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!

After all that fun on the Saturday, we were tired on the Sunday so went over to the Comice and sat in the shade and admired the scenery - Pontigne has a fine twisted spire as well!

However when the time came we had to go to the field entrance and greet the Vieil Bauge float.  The theme was comic films - I'm sure every British viewer of this blog will know Les Bronzes font du Ski intimately!  I will do another post on real comic French films shortly, once I am back from the UK.

The Vieil Bauge website has more photos if you are interested - follow this link here!

Comice at Pontigne - part 1 - the dance

If it is August, it must be Comice time here in the Baugeois.  Last year was Chartrene, this year it was down to Pontigne to arrange it all, next year it is our turn - help!

Last year, with some young friends, we sang and danced the Windmill in Old Amsterdam - following the theme of fables and stories.  This year's theme was comic films, and as I was given the job of deciding what we would do and setting it all up, they had to put up with an English language film - the Rocky Horror Picture Show.  While much of it would be unsuitable for young, old, horses and cattle, the Time Warp sequence is a good ensemble piece and this year, I also had lots of volunteers.

We have been rehearsing in our garden for the past five weeks, and Saturday afternoon was the performance.  The stage had no shade at all, and we were all in black - I was even wearing a wool dinner jacket - and the shade temperature was 32 degrees by the time it was down to us to open the dance proceedings, so I could really have done without having to do an interview with the compere before we got started.  I am waiting to see one of the videos that was done, but we got a lot of applause and it felt right.

The tug of war that we also had to do that afternoon in the baking heat was a complete disaster - I will say no more about that.  I will do other posts about the decorated floats on the Sunday, but leave you with a photograph from the dress rehearsal last Friday, showing my fabulous troupe of dancers in their finest Transylvanian apparel.

Expect the unexpected

Life round here is never dull (life in Worcester was generally dull), but the last few days have been rather too exciting.

On Thursday we became the proud owners of a trailer - essential for all those trips to the dumpwhen you are taking down someone's leylandii hedge.

On Friday we narrowly missed being serenaded by a Brazilian blues guitarist at our local pub.

On Saturday, we did our usual marathon stint as volunteers at the village "journee champetre" - the local version of the village fete except it starts at 2pm with a petanque competition that gets very serious as the day goes on and beer gets drunk.  Of course to get to that stage, the local chaps have been working since 6:30am collecting pig carcases and setting up marquees.  From 1pm, people drift past the pig roasting area to check that the spits are turning, that the pigs are good quality and that they have enough garlic, herbs and harissa lathered all over them.  Usually at 7pm people startto turn up in search of kir and gossip - this year the rain started at 5:30pm and didn't give up until about 7:30pm, at which point people started to arrive.  There is then food, and once people are too full to object, the local brass band (the Cadets de Baugois - once heard, never forgotten - take that as you will) and drum majorettes put on their annual show.  Finally there are fireworks and a dance that goes on to the early hours, at which point the men of the village dismantle it all, so you don't know anything has happened by morning.

This year, we made the front page of the Courrier de l'Ouest as a lady choked on a piece of pig and died at about 9pm in the evening - so everything else was cancelled as a mark of respect.  Not the nicest evening therefore.

So on Sunday we went over to visit a horse we are keeping an eye on while its owners are away, and we saw a hoopoe, which was a nice surprise.

Then during the evening our neighbour (feckless Joel) tapped on the door and gave us a huge bowl of perch that he had caught that day and couldn't deal with the full catch.  So as Harry Potter started on the TV, I started gutting 30 perch.

Today was relatively normal - we were cutting down trees in the blazing sunshine.

Life is certainly not dull here.

Farm Gate Milk Prices

What an offer!  Free milk today at the GAEC Croix Rouge - all you have to do is turn up between 10am and 6pm with your own containers and you can fill your boots - so to speak!  But why?  How can a farmer give away milk?

Well, first off, he has a huge container full of the precious white liquid, and the cows are in the fields producing more.  Secondly, the dairy that would collect it has a few problems - various tankers are blockaded into a number of farms around the department, plus there is a lorry across their entrance as well.  Thirdly, the farmer is in any case not particularly minded to let the dairy have the milk at the price they are offering - 208 Euros a tonne or 20 centimes a litre.  With the current exchange rate that is about 18p a litre, but on the natural exchange rate, it is more like 14p a litre.

The per tonne price is the lowest offered since 1982, and just two months ago, farmers were receiving 310 Euros a tonne - as it costs nearer 28 centimes a litre to produce, the expectation seems to be that farmers will take the hit and be happy.  Would any other business be happy to take a 30% price drop and not lay off staff (not easy on a family farm) or dispose of means of production (do we really want cows killed over this?)?  However with little publicity, farmers have once again had to take to direct action.  Our neighbour's son has blockaded a tanker, while GAEC Croix Rouge is giving away milk and while your containers are filled, will tell you at length about the injustices that they face.  Others are filling local ditches and their own urine pits with milk that should be feeding Europe and the world.

But with the drop in farm gate prices, are we seeing a similar (30%) fall in the prices of dairy products in the shops and supermarkets?  No - there is some slight easing on milk prices but you still pay about 1.15 Euros a litre (so someone somewhere is still making nice margins), while highly processed things like Activia yoghurts are in places up to 2 Euros for four, and butter is about 3 Euros for 500 grammes.

So I am with the farmers - pay a decent price for your food and don't compromise on quality and where you can, go direct to the producer!  I am now off to try to make my own cheese, plus sticking to the old favourites like rice pudding, toad in the hole, fish pie... and did you know you can freeze milk?  See below for the local blockade at Montivert - aux armes, citoyens!

Rewarding Volunteers

While we were still in the grip of snow, ice and freezing temperatures, we had a hot date with all the rest of the volunteers who worked on the Comice at Chartrene.  All?  Not quite.  Some decided that temperatures around -8 degrees were too cold and could not be tempted out, some had to work on the Saturday, and others were not invited due to administrative cock-ups.  However there were a good 300 of us in the Centre Rene d'Anjou on the 9th January, prepared to be rewarded for our efforts in August.

I should be clear that this was not a reward for making flowers for floats or for performing the Windmill in Old Amsterdam to massed ranks of rural dwellers.  No, this was for running a bar for half a day during the event and for John helping to dismantle stands after the event.  Others had done similar tasks and more over the two days and the preparations and dismantling.

The party started at 8pm, but drinks and nibbles didn't arrive until 9pm when we were invited to sitdown and enjoy a film of the event - it was well done, no pictures of Windmills in Amsterdam, but perhaps more views of ploughing matches than I was ready for when waiting for my dinner.  At 10pm the speeches started, with thanks to everyone, particularly those who had given up two years of their lives to the organisation of the event.  Then at 10:45pm the food -finally.  At 11:30pm the dancing started, with a short break for a reprise of the Chartrene performance of YMCA, before champagne and cake at 12:30am, and then more dancing.  We left early at 1:45am and the party was going strong - these rural types know how to party and they know how to dance - tangos, waltzes, quicksteps, polkas - for us English types it was culture shock of the most elegant variety.

Apologies for the poor quality of the pictures of the dancing - blame John's mobile phone!

 

Snow in Winter - whatever next?

I don't know about anyone else but I am getting a tad bored with the Arctic high pressure that has settled over North West Europe and seems to like it here.  While bright blue skies and crisp mornings are a pleasure, particularly if you don't have to scrape a car windscreen, walking timorously because of black ice loses its appeal very quickly.  And I defy anyone to find early morning temperatures of -8 degrees C a good thing at all!

We are using up fire wood at a scary pace, although I guess that is what it is there for, but the chances of refilling the wood stack in the next couple of weeks are looking slim.  While we will work with chainsaws in the afternoons in the wood if it is frosty, we won't do anything like that where there is snow on the ground - it is just too dangerous.  And that is what we have - a rarity in Anjou we are told, but 4 inches of snow fell yesterday afternoon and with a high of -0.9 degrees this afternoon, it didn't do much about melting.

The cats have decided that snow is quite fun if they can come in again as soon as their paws get cold, and pink paws get colder more quickly than black pad paws - not a lot of people know that....  The chickens are beside themselves - they don't know where to put their feet, there are no grubs and other yucky things to find, and if there were, they would need to dig in the snow to find them.  The chickens don't do going in the snow.  Or strictly, ours don't - Joel's don't have the choice, although they have spend a lot of time standing on the garden chairs today.

However, one can't really grumble - this is what winter is all about and hopefully the prolonged frost will put paid to all the nasty microbes out there like peach leaf curl and tomato blight and codling moth and fleas (not strictly a microbe but something that needs dealing with).

Keep warm!

Slinky new outfit!

Things have been a bit quiet on the blogging front, partly as the hard drive on my main computer gave up the fight against cat fur and died, and partly as I am away on work travels.  However this weekend is a lull at one of my favourite places (Bants at Upton Snodsbury) before I go and get qualified next week.

While all good French rural folk are able to use a chainsaw by their fifth birthday and are fully convinced of the protective powers of bright blue gabardine, we Brits are not so relaxed (if that is the right word).  However we have had to come to terms with the fact that John cannot be totally responsible for the production of fire wood chez nous and that some jobs are done quicker when two are tooled up.  Consequently Anjouhousewatch has bought me my very own chainsaw and I will be attending Pershore College for the next two days, learning how to use it.

This new skills acquisition has also meant that I have shelled out £160 on a natty trouser/boot combo that makes my elegant lady friends in the UK worry for my fashion sense, while giving me some form of BS/ES norm protection when working.  I have fired up my nice new chainsaw (a Stihl MS170 helpfully called Svennnnnnnnn) a couple of times so I am not a complete novice on the course, but as the picture shows, there are lessons still to be learnt!!

Rural bounty, rural poverty

It is a bizarre balance to life here between bounty and poverty.

On the bounty side of things, there are currently excellent quality chestnuts to be had for free, after the recent rain there may even be some good quality cepes.  Our neighbour has a fishing licence for the year, and frequently brings back large carp, that feed him, his two cats and the chickens for a couple of days.  There are fine quality walnuts going begging, while we are able to take advantage of absent clients' gardens for apples and figs, which would otherwise attract vermin and make a mess.  We get our firewood for free from the One Acre Wood.

Yet life is also precarious for many of our neighbours.  The one with the fishing licence eats well when he can catch a fish, and does have fresh eggs but he lives on the equivalent of £400 per month.  In our village the average household income is 11,500 euros a year.  For fans of my other blog, I will confirm that the average quoted is a median - so half the households have less than that.  There are several houses in the village that are not connected to the mains drains or the mains water supply.

This gives a very different view to comfortable middles class views on things such as mice, blackbirds, pigeons, rats, coypu and muskrats.  If something gets into your stock of apples or nuts or chicken food, they deprive you of a meal or two.  If your roof slates get the acid treatment from bird poo, they have to be replaced at the cost of something else - food, electricity, a pair of shoes without holes in.  If the river floods due to the banks being washed away following coypu and muskrat damage, you live with the mess as best you can, cleaning what can be, but leaving the structural damage, because you don't have the cash.

Another set of neighbours tend a wonderful strawberry bed, hoping to get enough for themselves and also to sell some at market for a bit of cash.  When the mice go through and take a nibble out of each one, any hope of sales is gone.  A good mouser is therefore an important asset, and will be forgiven for the odd indiscretion in a newly turned seed bed, if they can provide the tail and paws of the strawberry thief.  Next door's cat catches rats and gets away with murder on the back of it.

The credit crunch will mean a hard winter for some.  If wise words about the numbers of berries are to be believed, the weather could mean a harder winter for others.  If that is the case, every nut, every stored fruit and vegetable will be needed, and anything that damages those food stores will be dealt with accordingly.  Poisons are indiscriminate and unnatural, and affect a whole food chain - give me a good hunting cat any day.