I told you so!

More musings and probably now mutterings from Marseille…



I realised a while back that I am not always right (infact I am often wrong) but what a relief. How boring would it be to always  get it right,  living in a world of total nicompoops.?  So I try not to beat myself up when I make mistakes or huge, huge boo-boo’s.

Yet last Sunday, I smashed it. Nothing world changing just a win in the environment of my teeny, tiny,  mrs pepperpot household. So let me explain briefly. The door to the kitchen larder (have yearned all my life for one of those) was a bit broken, in that the door could not be shut.  To make it brief: a metal rod thing that was fixed into the floor tiles but yet grooved into the inward opening door frame had come adrift.  Anyone still with me?

So this all happened about a month ago.  Frog is in charge of bricolage -diy.  What a relief after years and years of doing it all myself.  Even managed to put in a dimmer switch once without killing anyone…Anyway, Frog had been mulling it over  all this time which means he didn’t have a clue.  Not easy as there was no obvious solution but enough was enough.  So Sunday morning he got down to business.  I could see that after ten minutes he was getting crosser and crosser as it was tricky but in my world , all problems have solutions without  totally losing the plot.  If that fails a good cry will do.  Anyhoo, he tried to get into the larder to fix it from within but I obviously feed him too well and  it was so not going to work. How I wish I had taken a photo of him then..

“Ma chérie” he said and to paraphrase- maybe we should just accept defeat and take the door off and put another curtain up.  The French love curtains instead of cupboard doors- I don’t have wardrobe doors anymore just sets of curtains.  Charming for a while but they get dusty and you can’t totally shut off how your tee shirts are not perfectly arranged or colour co-ordinated.  ( A touch of ocd maybe? ).

So this was the impetus I needed: ” Let me try, I am smaller than you- I know I can do it “, French shrug was the reply and “et après?”. Well, I did manage to  reverse my way in: thank you to my Italian genes for making me short, thank you for my gym membership to allow me to burn off some of the wine  calories that I drink and a final thanks to my wonderful yoga teachers that I had in London who helped me achieve “the crow” and other weird bendy positions. Great Oscar speech methinks!

Pre-ending got the rod back in it’s socket – no idea how! Frog then told me that washers were needed underneath to raise the door or it would scrape.  So I dismantled it again – still no idea how and then refixed it, again, no idea how but clearly the angel of bricolage was on my shoulder . But heck she must be truly skinny cos really no room in there- must ask her for her régime!

Pyjamas Primark – Spring Collection 2016!


PS: Frog was very tempted to shut me in and it would  be impossible to get out but I had described  in detail what I would be cooking for lunch and so yet again greed got the better of him (phew)

PS: After my victory , I was inspired to totally reorganise the larder and to do a total spring clean – even polished the silver (yep more ocd  and more tomorrow).

PPS: I have got so used to the door being broken that I keep forgetting to shut it. For goodness sake!

PPPS: If nothing is heard from me for a while, please check the larder. I have enough rations for a week or so….

Et Toc!!!!!!

Introducing Mr Chicken Wee-Pants


So we had “metro” man and various other categories over the years . I would like to propose another one if I may … Mr Chicken Wee- Pants and at his very worst he will be Mr Chicken Wee-Wee Pants. This is a man that is definately masculine, forthright if not bullying in his opinions ranging from sports, politics, economics, the future of the world, gay marriage etc…. yet… He is also not adverse to a facial, a manicure or a pedicure during which he squeals like a piglet!  Put him infront of something slightly scarey on screen and I mean slightly and he turns into a mush of fear, cowering behind all cushions available, looking between scissored fingers and gripping on to legs of anyone next to him. Well really Mr Chicken….!

The rant.

IMG_4024Well here goes. Why am I writing a blog? No idea. What am I going to write? No idea. Actually, that’s not strictly true. *  I have been pestered for a while now by “dear friend” who shall remain nameless but she knows who she is.  In fact, I  may well be using her as a source of inspiration when my own life seems dull but all in good time…

I had planned to start all this by introducing myself and giving a potted history of my fairly unremarkable life but that would be the logical beginning and of late “logic” seems to have deserted me. So instead, I shall have a small rant.  So good to get things off my chest even if no one will ever read it.  Actually, “dear friend” is duty bound to read ever single word that I write and beg me for more musings or else she will be “ex dear friend”. I can be a little harsh when I choose!  Maybe that’s why Frog (my beloved -more of him another time) sometimes calls me Pol Pot.  I like to think of it as a term of affection but I sometimes glimpse in his eyes a slight look of terror .  It hovers uncertainly for  just a second and in a blink it has gone.

Last night, for example, he spilled some sauce on my new table cloth which, by the way, is giving me immense pleasure this week.  I said nothing, just started to remove the tomato based mark with cold water and applied my special stain removing pen that came from New York many a moon ago.  I am really, really good at stain removals after many years of practice with my two dear but albeit messy children.  They were  incredibly messy when they were young.  Well one is still a bit of a “muck pig” as I used to call him.  I bet his ears are burning now! Actually, now I come to think of it, the other one still has her moments. Only last week when I was visiting her in London, I found my stain removing services were required by both her and her flatmate.  Ah, if only there were money to be made in an international stain removal company!

Goodness, how I am waffling.  I never thought that I would be writing about stains in my first blog. I don’t even have time for my rant.  I need to shower.  It’s 4.00pm and I am lying on top of the bed in a beach kaftan.  It’s too hot for the beach but I can pretend.  I haven’t even set foot  out of doors yet as I have been so caught up in the the reason for my rant. Again not totally true.* I did open the door and cross the threshold when the Amazon delivery man came.  I was very pleased to be in my kaftan rather than my nightie although there is really not that much difference between them.  All he would have noticed was a wild haired, unmade up ,middle-aged woman.  Actually, he probably noticed nothing at all.  Anyway to the shower to transform myself into a chic ,wild haired, middle-aged woman.  A quick dash to the shops, prepare  another delicious supper that may well end up on my tablecloth et voilà. When Frog finally gets home tonight he will never imagine just how lazy I have been.  SSShhh not a word….


*Am I turning into a fibber as well as a dictatorial, waffling ranter?