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 . . . . . .

This Spring there will be elections for the maire and his chosen councillors and so, although electioneering has not officially started, tonight's gathering held particular significance for our Mayor.

It started at six o'clock with the presentation of prizes for the Christmas tree competition. They awarded the first prize to someone I don't know at all and then the other 45 entrants received a certificate with a photo of the mairie adorned in Christmas lights together with a flower - a kind of lily in a pot. In the 'business section' only one shop took part - the chemist. So our pharmacist won the prize. It was contained in an envelope so I suspect it was a voucher. Not sure if I dare ask her which shop she can spend it in - or how much it's worth!

The meeting was scheduled to begin at seven and as you can be pretty sure that everything will start late we had plenty of time to walk back home, have a bowl of onion soup and then go back.

As we approached the village hall there was loud music - bagpipes and drums. The Celtic Group from a nearby village were providing the entertainment. They perform Breton, Scottish and Irish tunes but the four drums are a bit overpowering even for the half dozen or so bagpipes and the bombards can hardly be heard at all above the din. Most people were obviously a bit put out by the volume as they couldn't gossip. Some children had their hands over their ears but one little girl near us was dancing like a Dervish - having a great time.

At ten past seven the band trouped out and one of the adjoints took the microphone. He had a problem calling for silence as everyone was determined to make up for lost time in chatting to their neighbours. After four attenpts to call the meeting to order the noise died down enough for him to introduce the maire.

Monsieur T took his place and the room fell (practically) silent. There were still children playing catch among the audience so I found it difficult to follow all he said. He referred to the unpopular roadworks without any note of apology except to say it was unfortunate that they had hit a few problems and so were lasting longer than expected.

He spoke about more 'travaux' in Rue du Moulin and the fact that they have started work on repairing the church which has been closed for ages after some stones fell down in the entrance.

He said something about new arrangements for waste which will include a means of composting but I'm going to have to ask someone exactly what he said about that.

Then there was the group photo. I always try my best to hide at the back but this time the maire and his wife came into the group at the last minute. He came and stood behind me (he's very tall) while his wife put her arm round my shoulder and propelled me to the front.

After that the band came back in and it was time for the Vin d'amitié -  champagne of course - helped down by copious supplies of  sandwiches and galettes.

As this was Bear's first appearance for nearly three months various people came up to say hello and ask after his health. However, there were not as many familiar faces as usual so we didn't stay too long.

On the way back Bear remarked,

"Could you imagine this sort of thing happening in England?"

I think not.

January 6th, for us, means Twelfth Night  - time to take down the decorations and put Christmas behind us for another year. My mother and grandmother were very superstitious about this and would get very upset if one small piece of tinsel was left behind.

In France, there is a much nicer custom for Epiphany: the visit of the Three Kings is celebrated with a Galette des Rois. What started as a religious festival has become more of an excuse to indulge in eating nowadays. The favourite recipe is flakey pastry filled with a marzipan type mixture - frangipane (invented by an Italian noble, the Marquis of Frangipani in the 14th century) but there is also a plain version (without frangipane) and there are even recipes with apple or other fruit filling. In the south it can be a brioche filled with frangipane.

Anyway, from what I've seen in French households, the idea is for the youngest child to hide under the table while the cake is cut. He or she then decides who is to receive each slice.

Why? Because there is a token hidden in the galette and the one who finds it gets the crown. Originally the tokens were based on the nativity but nowadays they can be of anything.

Pascal phoned us yesterday to ask if we'd like to go round for Galette des Rois. I dare not say yes because Bear is still not well so I invited them to come to ours instead.

That meant a last minute search for the necessary cake (Jay bought one in town) and also a baking session, as Pascal is rather partial to mince pies.

They arrived just after three o'clock bearing chilled champagne . Conversation was a bit slow  - or should I say fast, as it is difficult to follow Pascal at the rate he chatters and I aften have to ask him to repeat what he said. Bear sat sullenly in his armchair and 'switched off' but when the champagne was opened he allowed himself to be persuaded to have some.

The galette was warming through in the oven. Jay, knowing what to expect disappeared upstairs so CC had to allocate the pieces of cake - fortunately not from under the coffee table: we let her stand behind the settee. Pascal and Florence were a bit taken aback when we provided cake forks and soon everyone was resorting to fingers: sticky but so much more satisfying.

So guess who won the crown (with a  monkey token)?

Yes, it was Bear.

I plonked the crown on his head and he grimaced.

"It's very quiet here," said Pascal, "How about some music?"

Bear reacted to this.

"No way. I'm not having that row." he decided.

"What about my CD of Cyril?" I suggested. (Cyril won the French Star Academy last year and has a really good voice.)

"Not if you want to avoid World War Three," muttered CC, so I let it drop.

Despite Bear's silence we opened another bottle of champagne, gave Pascal some whisky and brought out the mince pies. Conversation began to flow and we finished off the afternoon with coffee (Pascal had tea!) until they got up to leave at about 6.30 with a dozen mince pies to take home for the rest of the family.

P.S. In view of Bear's reaction to listening to music I was amazed when during the evening he changed channels and found a Proms concert of not terribly attractive music, especially when played at full volume. I looked up from the book I was trying to read.

"Are you enjoying this?"

"NO, but I'm forcing myself to listen to it."

So I went upstairs and finished my book in CC's room.

One of the first things I used to do when teaching was to mark the holidays on the calendar - in fact we often used to do this at the staff meeting before the beginning of term when we went through the events already planned by the headteacher.

So it wasn't surprising to read in the local paper that most French people tick off the Jours de Feriés (Bank Holidays) so that they can arrange their 'ponts' or long weekends.

If a Jour de Ferié falls on a Thursday or a Tuesday it is possible to take an extra day on the Friday or Monday, either by taking a day off your holiday allowance or arranging a day of RTT -Reduction de Temps de Travail. This doesn't actually mean that you can reduce your working hours; you have to 'pay' for your day off by making up the hours in previous weeks.

In May last year, if you were able to take advantage of all the long weekends possible there were only 17 working days. This year it's not such good news.  Ascension Day falls on the 1st May - La Fete du Travail - so thats one holiday less. However, it is a Thursday so that's an opportunity to take Friday off as well.

More bad news: November 1st - Toussaint - is a Saturday, and there's no question of transfering a Bank Holiday to the following Monday. And then there's an extra working day because of February 29th.

On the other hand, there are six chances to take a three or four day break in 2008: May 1st (Thursday), May 8th (Fete de la Victoire), 14th July (Monday), 15th August (Friday), 11th November (Tuesday), 25th December (Thursday - and the 26th would have to be an RTT or extra day's holiday because Boxing Day is NOT a Bank Holiday here). January 1st will also be a Thursday so it's possible to start 2009 with a four day holiday.

(It's always useful to be aware of these Jours de Feriés if you are travelling to France. We have been caught out in the past, unable to buy any food - not even bread.)

Of course, since retiring, I find the days all merge into one. It's like a week of weekends. But it does make you feel old when you have to think hard about what day it is.