"Can I borrow your foot?"

This has become a Whale-ism.

Every time he needs to transfer from bed to wheelchair someone has to put their weight on the walking frame as a counterbalance. This is because he has problems bending at the knees and he maintains the floor is slippery.

It's true his right leg has become stiffer of late but I'm not so sure about the floor.

Anyway, whereas Whale used to be fairly independent about getting in and out of bed or wheelchair there is now the shout

"Can I borrow your foot?"    umpteen times a day.

It's not that it's a strenuous task but his timing can be a bit inconvenient. Of course, he's not to know what I'm doing all the time but when I've just sat down with a cup of coffee to read  my favourite blogs or I'm enjoying a TV programme with a cat curled up on my lap I can't help inwardly sighing.

But when he can see I'm in the middle of cooking or washing up (his bedroom adjoins the kitchen area) then it does get a bit exhasperating.

There was small piece in the local paper:_ the library in our village was going to open soon and the librarian was holding a meeting at 16h 00 for anyone interested in offering to help.

It must be nearly a year since they announced that the former school was going to become a 'bibliothèque'. I was beginning to wonder if the idea would ever become reality, so the chance to see what was going on appealed to my curiousity.

Knowing that meetings don't usually start on time I left the house at two minutes to four and arrived just after (it's in the next road). Even so I was the first one there. I walked in and had a choice of three doors,  none of which bore a label. Just as I was wondering which door to try first the one on the right was opened by the librarian.

"I thought I heard someone," she said, "Come in."

By this time a second lady had arrived and by ten past there were six of us.

There were mixed reactions to the progress. The room was small but freshly decorated and there was a colourful children's corner with pictures, mini armchairs and a low settee. But there was a serious lack of books.

The bright new shelves were shining with white emptiness. One or two of the ladies expressed their amazement at the shortage.

"Oh, but there are more in here," said Isabelle (the librarian) leading us into the small room on the left where a table held a few piles of books.

"These are the ones that need covering and classifying" she said.

We went back into the main room and gathered round the table. There were now nine ladies, (seven of whom were retired teachers) and one man, the chairman, who is one of the mayor's deputies and also the retired head of the local school.

During the course of this meeting  we learned that the library does not 'belong' to our village but is sponsored by a group of surrounding 'communes'. But no-one was sure which villages were included - or even how many!

When was it due to open? Well, maybe in February - or March - but, hopefully before the local elections on March 9th.

Opening hours? Not sure yet: the librarian is paid to work 35 hours a week but she is also expected to tour the other villages. So that's where the volunteers come in - to man the premises in her absence.

The door opened again and in came Madame S - another retired teacher well known for her appreciation of a tipple. She sat down breathing fumes over us. I'm not sure what she had been drinking but I wouldn't have risked lighting a match near her.

"Sorry I'm late. Last minute phonecall - you know how it is."

She beamed in my direction - "Ahh, the little English lady. How nice of you to come." -  shook hands with everyone, someone produced another chair and she joined the circle.

Other problems came to light,  like the fact that the software for keeping track of the books and borrowers would not be available till September so all the information would have to be entered on one system and then re-entered on the new system in the Autumn. No wonder she wants to keep the stock down for the time being!

Meanwhile the library will be run with  cards. The lady next to me, who came from a nearby village, was most put out about this ( there's too much room for error) but it seemed there was no option.

I asked if there would be scope for a section of books in English and other languages.

"Yes, of course. We already have some," Isabelle said and went to fetch an example from the children's section. It was Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit.

We were asked to write our names, addresses and phone numbers, together with times we would be free to help, on a sheet of paper.

Then came the big question: - what was the library to be called?

Well, it couldn't be called by the name of our village because it belonged to the group. My vociferous neighbour was adamant about this.

Someone came up with 'La Bibliothèque Intercommunale des Plaines et Forets de l'ouest Ardennes.' (what a mouthful!) The librarian pointed out that it wouldn't tell people where to return lost books. The meeting deteriorated into three different discussions.

By now it was 5.30. Two ladies had already departed. I felt it was time I left them to it as well. I wonder how much longer they went on and whether they decided on a reasonable name - or whether they came to any conclusions at all . . . . . .

John-G started it and then Keith upstaged him.

"What's in your dresser?"

Well. I can't even begin to compete on contents - the top half contains (very ordinary) crockery and the bottom half is a drinks cabinet (some good brandy and a nice calvados though) - but the dresser itself has an interesting story.

When I came over to househunt five years ago two very dear friends took me in and helped organise just about everything.

We had barely a week to furnish and prepare the house before Jay brought Whale over. Marie  and Michel took me to the attic above the workshop - an immense barn of a place, filled with all sorts of furniture and farm equipment in various states of repair.

"Some of this furniture belongs to a relative who is in a home" explained Marie. She thinks it has all been sold so you are welcome to borrow anything you need.

There was a large kitchen table and six chairs that would be most useful but the beds were rusty and, frankly, past it.

Then she showed me the 'buffet'. It was all in pieces and covered in dust and cobwebs but  I fell in love with it.

"It's in the style Henri Quatre," explained Marie, "and it's not very popular because it's too fussy and ornate and people don't like polishing it."

"I love it." was my response.

So Marie supplied me with rags, brushes and old fashioned liquid polish and left me to provide the elbow grease necessary to restore the bits and pieces to something resembling their former glory.

Eventually, with the help of a couple of younger chaps, the parts were put together in the living room of our rented house. The lower doors didn't close easily but it didn't matter. I was thrilled with it.

When we found our present house I asked if we would be allowed to bring the dresser with us.

"Of course," was the reply.

It was dismantled and reassembled in the dining area where it only just fitted - barely a couple of centimetres to spare.

You have to feel 'in the mood' and then polishing it is a very satisfying experience. I admit, I don't do it all that often but it looks better than it did when I first saw it.

Way back in October we started on the bedroom makeover and soon discovered that it was going to be a long drawn out process.

Little did I suspect that it would also lead to Bear falling out of a makeshift bed, spending nearly a week in hospital, coming out with an infected hand and fractured shoulder, being indisposed for Christmas and beyond and then going down with bronchitis.

But, although we still have various medical appointments to attend he is, at last, beginning to feel better. In fact, yesterday he drove into town and we did some shopping to finish off the bedroom.

Before, there was pink wallpaper and a frieze - mostly in good condition but with very noticeable 'cat-scratch' areas. Bear's attempts to protect them with plastic looked terrible so the wallpaper had to go.

The 'meringue' colour paint looks fresh and clean but somewhat bare so we needed more pictures than the ones we already had. I chose some cat pictures from the 2006 and 2007 calendars and we bought  frames at 6 euros each from ' Mille Choses'.

Now the bedroom is about as finished as it's going to be for the time being. New curtains and bedlinen are out of the question but we did have to have a new wardrobe because the old one fell apart.

So what do you think?

This morning I woke late, not as hung-over as I deserved,  and  decided that New Year's Resolutions were no more likely to be kept this year than in previous years. 

However, I did find this on As Time Goes By and thought I'd pinch the idea in an attempt to get my thoughts and intentions together:

Still Loving: my daughter, my son  - and the cats.

Still Not: in love with anyone.

Still Glad: I live in France

Still Enjoying: retirement.

Still Doing: mostly what I like when I like. Even the task of looking after two menfolk is not too restricting.

Still Proud: of no longer 'belonging' to Bear - of learning to stand up for myself.

Still Amazed: at how quickly time passes.

Still Hoping: Life will bring some happiness to CC and Jay.

Still Grateful: for all the people I know and friends I have made - both face to face and via blogging.

Still Wanting: to find a house with more doors to close and a smaller garden.

Still Trying: to speak French better.

Still Failing: to improve my French

Still Passionate: about blogging.

Still Dating: no one.

Still Working: on getting this bl***y knee to get better.

Still Reading: Harry Potter 7 in French.

Still Worried: about the potentially explosive  nature of our household.

Still Wondering: if we will move house this year.

Still Wishing: for a solution to life's problems and enough optimism to carry us through if one isn't forthcoming.

So, apart from a fairly determined decision to eat more slowly and stop when I'm full I'm not going to make any promises to myself that I won't be able to keep.

Let's hope 2008 will bring good things - health , happiness and a sense of achievement.

Bonne Année to one and all.