Okay maybe not so much our babies anymore – actually nearly fully grown adults but as many a parent will tell you, they will always be our babies. What I want to talk about is the impact on our young Britons living in France post Brexit. Given that my own children have been here a wet week, by some stalwart standards, many have lived here a very long time and plenty of which were born here. Or certainly moved at a young age. In any event, they are all treated the same – British Nationals living in France.Continue reading “Our Brexit Babies”
And not our Salad Days as the song goes. And now, more importantly ‘Deconfinement’ that is unlock the ‘lockdown’ as it is referred to in the UK.
Prior to 2020 taking quite an unsavoury turn, the Brits had been preoccupied with arguing about Brexit for the best part of 3 years. Many a cull was made on facebook. Friends and family members deleted in utter contempt. Not just online. In real life as well. Families fell out in spectacular fashion. Only at the point of it being a more or less done deal, a stomping Boris majority, some decided to let it be. A resentful let it be, but a let it be nevertheless. This is not to be confused with acceptance. Continue reading “These Are Our Deconfinement Days”
Yeah this one is full on generalisation and quite frankly I don’t care. It’s not politically correct at all. Which, lets face it, the world’s politicians aren’t actually a shining example of how one should conduct themselves. My little evaluation is hardly going to scratch the surface of inappropriateness. This is just for fun. So please, if you are a Frenchie or Brit reading this it does not,obviously, apply to all. It’s just my little observations. It’s tongue in cheek and comes with a tickle your fancy disclaimer. Strap in. Continue reading “Top 5: French Men V British Men”
Okay, I have written about this before here. And yet, here I am again?! Just when I thought I was rocking this whole living in France thang, recently I came across situations that made me realise that I am still an amateur in France. What do you think? Recognise any? Feel free to add your own in the comments section. In no particular order of amateurishness… Continue reading “10 Ways To Tell If You Are An Amateur In France.”
…for many things, not least for inflicting my pronunciation on your beautiful language. Daily. For my headlights. Even though they are the proper ones and the car did pass its CT (mot). I know they are blinding you every time I drive in the morning. I am flashed (and not in a good way) to let me know of that fact. I mean I can even see the owls at night they are that high. I’m getting it sorted but in the meantime, here are my Top Five things I’m sorry about.. Continue reading “Dear French Person…I’m Sorry…”
Where was I? If you haven’t read about how I came about my 2nd degree burns you can read about it here. So having pierced one of the blisters (with a sterile needle) the night of the fireworks and shoving a plaster over it – I went to bed and managed to get some sleep. The next morning, as instructed by all and sundry, I made my way to our local A&E (urgence) straight from the school run with the words “sepsis” ringing in my ears. Better to be safe than sorry. Right? Continue reading “The One With Second Degree Burns Part II”
So I have Je me suis brûlée les doigts or J’ai brûlée mes doigts but never, I have been reliably informed, Je me suis brûlée mes doigts. I’m pretty sure I used a mixture of the two and yes, I kind of understand why you would say, “the fingers” when you’ve already said it’s happened to you as in Je me suis. But ultimately, when I held my fingers up heavily bandaged, this transcended any grammatical errors. That and saying it was hot sugar to which the clever Frenchies proclaimed “caramélisé?!”. Prior to that it hadn’t occurred to me to give boiling hot sugar its correct term. They stopped short of calling me an Fffing idiot. Continue reading “The One With Second Degree Burns – Part I”
It’s the school holidays here. One of the big carrots for Master Normandy II to move here was double the half term holidays. Well more or less. This one is two weeks not one, Christmas is more or less the same give or take a few extra days. The February one – yarp that’s two weeks and, oh my days the April one is three weeks and not two! Although they don’t get the week in June off like the UK. Swings and roundabouts but watch out here comes the swing again – a whopping 8 weeks off over summer not 6 weeks. Okay the days are longer but pound for pound, franc for franc, euro for euro this ain’t too shabby. Continue reading “The Angry Elf At The Déchetterie”
I had you at the title didn’t I? I think this can certainly apply to both men and women and all ages so listen up if you don’t want to be labelled the ‘fat anglais(e)” in the village. Okay so if you are planning a move to France you’ll probably think, like many before you, that the weight if you’re carrying a few extra pounds (who isn’t right?) will just fly off.
You will come to that assumption based on all the ‘running around’ you’ll be doing prior to the move and after. I always find this expression quite farcical it’s normally banded about after you’ve had a baby. People say “the weight will soon fly off what with all that running around after the baby”. Sorry what? Please show me a new mum that ran anywhere after giving birth and specifically after a baby that can’t move for the first 8 months. I digress. Continue reading “How Not To Get Fat In France”
How’s Your French? The amount of times I was asked that when we first arrived – I cannot begin to tell you! Invariably it was asked by someone who had very little French. Although this information was only volunteered after I had to explain my level of language ability. Like ‘French’ was a person or something, enquiring about its general health and well-being. Now funnily enough, I am of the opinion that if your French is of a poorly nature, is unwell, a bit sick then the same could be said for you as well. Continue reading “How’s Your French?”