2007 didn't bring an awful lot of joy to this household.

The best thing about it for me was getting two 'new' eyes - although even that was fraught with panic.

It is ending on a bad note with Bear's illness and bad temper. His concussion and fractured shoulder were closely followed by a bout of bronchitis and the infection played havoc with his sugar levels resulting in him calling me names, throwing a toilet roll(!) at me and yelling at me to 'get out!' - so I slept upstairs last night.

Anyway, CC and Jay are planning a meal tonight, one which should be relaxed, and take us into 2008 with some hope for better things to come.

A Very Happy New Year to All - May 2008 fulfill your hopes and dreams and bring you health and happiness.

Christmas morning dawned cold and frosty - despite the 'meteo's prediction of rain - and there was bright sunshine in a pale blue sky.

Yes, I had slept through till daylight after a late meal for 'Reveillon'. The French usually have a banquet (perhaps after midnight mass if they are 'croyants') followed by a grand opening of presents. We decided to compromise with our own special menu and just open one present each.

Jay cooked a relatively simple but delicious dinner comprising a grilled pepper salad, his own recipe for fish pie: cod, marinated in white wine and lemon juice and topped with a mixture of breadcrumbs, parsley and garlic then baked till crispy - cheese, and then a black forest 'buche' from the local bakery.

Of course, the meal was well 'watered' with champagne and wine and ended with a digestif - hence the 'grasse matinée' (late start!)

But Christmas Day was relaxing this year. No getting up at the crack of dawn to put the turkey in the oven and the pudding over the steamer. It was to be a turkey and pud-free meal in the evening.

We had a late breakfast of scrambled egg with smoked salmon accompanied by champagne (oh the decadence) and then we all sat round the fire to open our presents. All except Bear, that is. He stayed in bed nursing a painful shoulder.

In the afternoon Yvette brought her husband and grandaughter round for nibbles and more champagne. It was a kind of combination of 'apero', and dessert. We  ate the savouries as nibbles before our meal while Yvette's family enjoyed the mince pies and sweetmeats as they had already had lunch.

Then it was time for the big experiment - our unconventional Christmas Dinner. Jay and CC did the honours and this was the menu:

Melon balls in Port

Shrimps on a bed of lettuce with mayonnaise and vinaigrette

Carrot and Pinenut roast with sprouts, carrots, roast potatoes, mushroom sauce and (homemade) cranberry sauce.

A selection of cheese: chaource, brie, beaufort, fourme d'ambert

An icecream buche with raspberry coulis.

We rounded off the meal with coffee and cognac - bliss.

As the 25th draws near I'm not sure whether I'm feeling calm or frantic or a mixture of both.It can best be described as feeling kind of laid back but also worrying that I'm not going to be organised in time.

Fortunately Jay and CC are here to help and they are going to do most of the cooking this year. We didn't make Christmas puddings but I did bake a rich fruit cake a couple of months ago and we have been dosing it with brandy at regular intervals. Then CC decorated it with marzipan, figs, dates, apricots and nuts.

Yesterday we thought we'd do a Winter Solstice celebration starting with mulled wine and mince pies and going on to vegetable chilli later in the evening. However, it was ruined by Bear and television. You can't have a relaxed meal with Eastenders blaring out full blast only yards away.

Bear has, however, been quite poorly since his fall. An x-ray revealed that he has a small fracture at the tip of his shoulder. There is nothing they can do for it so he just has to wait and put up with the pain till it heals itself. The doctor will only prescribe paracetamol which doesn't help. He's not allowed anti-inflammatories because of kidney problems.

As he is out of action he hasn't been able to protest about me going shopping with Jay. It's difficult to judge how to avoid the crowds at this time of year but Jay went to the supermarket during the lunch break a few days ago and found it relatively quiet.

Today was a different matter. We went to Cora and the carpark was full. We managed to nip into a spot as another car left and then we braved the throng of shoppers playing dodgems with their trolleys. Getting around was not quite as bad as I'd feared but it was a relief to come to the end of the shopping list and make for the checkout.

Of course, there were long queues but Jay steered me to a shorter one. The chap behind us was pushing forward so that he was almost sitting in our trolley. He was carrying his shopping in his arms - a lamp, some socks, a scarf and other items like DVDs or computer games. His little boy was also holding a DVD and growing more and more impatient.

"Should we let them go before us?" asked Jay.

"I don't know." I replied. "If he wasn't pushing so hard to get in front I wouldn't mind."

But then it was our turn to unload so we went ahead. At the checkout there were two items which wouldn't register on the till. The cashier telephoned and we waited for a young lady on roller skates to appear. After another eternity the phone rang and she was given the barcode for the cheese but they had no idea about the wine. A long conversation ensued and, eventually she asked us if we knew the price.

"6.70," said Jay, "the same as the red". She asked for the bottle of red which we'd already packed and passed that through again. By this time the queue at our checkout was growing and the poor man behind  must have been thinking some pretty uncomplimentary things about us. I paid the bill and we left hurriedly, trying not to look back.

There remains one more shopping trip for the last minute items. Everywhere is opening on Sunday but we'll  probably wait till Monday. We have planned our unconventional menus and I'll let you know, later, if they were successful.

Meanwhile, would you all spare a thought for poor Keith who has gone down with a nasty virus. He can't eat anything at present so I hope he's better by Christmas.

Are you all prepared for the coming week? Hope so.

We weren't able to go to the Repas des Anciens a few weeks ago because Bear was in hospital, but today one of the Mayor's deputies turned up with a hamper laden with goodies.

He expressed his wishes for better health, kissed me on both cheeks and went off smiling cheerfully.

So what did the box contain?

Three bottles of wine: red, dry white and sweet white

Foie gras de canard (duck)

Terrine de canard (duck paté)

Terrine de caille (quail paté)

Terrine de Gascogne aux pruneaux (pork paté with prunes)

Gigotine de volaille a la Bordelaise (chicken, mushrooms and bacon cubes in red wine sauce)

Chocolate truffles

Butter biscuits

Two white porcelain mugs

Not bad eh?

The main headlines in the local paper today were:

Ardennes: encore un instit insulté (another teacher insulted).

Now, in England it seems that teachers have to put up with aggressive pupils and parents on almost a daily basis. It only becomes newsworthy if someone - usually the teacher -  is killed or badly injured.

Here, though, there is universal condemnation of such behaviour and when it happens twice in two weeks it makes front page news.

However, on neither occasion did it get as far as blows.

Two weeks ago, a teacher in Revin was verbally abused by the parents of one of his pupils but yesterday, in a small village school two teenagers accosted a teacher in the playground  claiming to be the elder siblings of one of the children in his class.

There were threats and insults but no physical violence, perhaps because the altercation was interrupted by the mayor who happened to be passing by and came to the teacher's defence by persuading the teenagers to leave.

All the same, the teacher is receiving psychological counselling and the school has cancelled the Christmas fete that should have taken place on Saturday because the staff don't feel safe.

I'm torn between feeling pleased that such abuse is taken seriously and wondering whether the reaction might be just a bit over the top

Nearly everyone in the village has a wood fire but it hasn't been easy to find a good supplier so I was pleasantly surprised to discover that Pascal has yet another string to his 'jack-of-all-trades' bow.

It seems he owns or rents some woodland nearby and has a large enough supply to sell some logs to other people.

"It's good wood," he assured me,"you won't be disappointed."

"The garage holds 4 steres" I told him so he took Jay in his van to collect one stere (cubic metre) at a time.

They unloaded the first lot and it took up half the space. When they came back with the second batch it filled the wall from floor to ceiling and there was still a little pile left over which Pascal put on the floor in front of the car, plus a box of smaller logs and bark for starting the fire. 

"We'll never get two more steres in here" we agreed.

So the previous woodmen have taken advantage and charged for four steres when they only delivered  a maximum of three - being kind and assuming the garage was completely empty.

We have now agreed that Pascal will be our regular supplier. He charges 32euros a stere and his measures are generous. Jay helps with the loading so we don't pay any extra for delivery and we know we will get some wood within days of asking.

As soon as Pascal starts his Christmas holiday from work he is going to start cutting more wood in his little forest.

"Will your son be on holiday too, so that you'll  have someone to help?" I asked.

"No, it's hard work felling trees and chopping logs. No-one wants to do it." he replied.

So he's a lumberjack in his time off, despite having a bad back.

Tough chap our Pascal - and what a worker!

I read somewhere that a sign of being in love  - or maybe just a mutual attraction - was that a couple would frequently look into one another's eyes and smile.

That can't have been happening much in this house.

"Why?" you may ask.

Well, today Bear asked me to look through his Christmas letter which he had struggled to type on the computer.

There was one part that made me sit up and take notice. He was writing about my cataract operations last January and claimed that since then I have not worn glasses except for reading.

I looked a him in surprise.

"What do you mean by saying I don't wear glasses?"

"Well you don't, do you. Except when you're reading."

"What are these then?" I asked, pointing to my specs - the ones he came to the opticians with me to choose and then collect. The ones I have been wearing since March. The ones I often clean with wet wipes after I've cleaned his.

"But I've seen you walking about without glasses" he protested.

That's strange because he's usually snoring when I get up, although, yes, I can now manage in the bathroom without any artificial aid whereas previously I had to put my contact lenses in before having a shower as my thick glasses would get steamed up.

I'd be the first to admit that I'm no oil painting but hasn't he really looked at me for nearly a whole year or am I just an invisible servant who provides his food and does his washing and ironing?

Despite the weather the tree outside is as decorated as it is going to be. We have had to dodge the wind and the rain to get this far and having seen  that the tree opposite is losing it's tinsel already, our decorations are tied on with wool and string.

Yesterday Jay and I went in search of an 'indoor' tree. Last year we found one at the local nursery but this time we were too late. The only choices left were too small and far too expensive so we went on to Carrefour where there were still loads of  'sapins' at reasonable prices. They were on display in the carpark, attended by a tough little lady who emerged from her wooden cabin to show us her wares.

We made our choice and she carried it to the 'wrapping machine' while we went to the petrol cashier to pay. When we came back she lifted it easily all by herself and loaded into the car. The boot wouldn't close but, never mind, we'd take it slowly.

CC spent the evening decorating and today I did the baking(homemade mincemeat - minus suet - because the French don't know what it is) and Jay bought some wine and spices for our traditional family celebration when the tree is up - mulled wine and mince pies.

Bear, of course, did not wish to join in and sat in front of the television doggedly watching Airline (must be the unpteenth repeat) and eating fishpie because he does not want to eat with us later.

He always says he hates Christmas but we manage to enjoy it inspite of his petty moodiness.

So much for the season of goodwill to all men in our house.

It's a couple of weeks since we had the powercut but ever since then the doorbell has been out of action.

I put up a little notice (which you can see in the photo on the previous post) saying "La sonnette ne marche pas. Frappez doucement a la fenetre s.v.p."

Of course, unless I'm in the same room I don't hear a gentle tap so visitors either walk in and take me by surprise or they batter the window pane more and more aggressively until I let them in.

Daniel was one of the window bashers and he offered to bring back his electrician friend to sort out the problem.

Unfortunately with hospital visiting it wasn't possible to guarantee that I'd be home by six o'clock - the most convenient time for the electrician on his way home from work, so we left it that I'd call Daniel as soon as Bear was home.

I rang and left a message the day after Bear was discharged  but later learned that Daniel was having family problems. His wife's brother had been taken ill.

Another week went by and then Claude wandered in at 8.30 on Saturday morning to bring me some eggs  (when I was still in my dressing gown,) and so I asked him if things were back to normal chez Daniel.

Claude promised to pass on my message and on Sunday he came back (with a crate of apples for sale) to say the electrician would be round today.

Sure enough, there was a frantic tapping on the window just before six when I had a friend visiting and the house was in chaos because CC and Jay were decorating the indoor tree. Not a convenient moment but the bell did need sorting out.

In came the electrician and the first thing he did was to check the fuse board. All the switches were on as far as I could see but he pinpointed one, which I thought had something to do with the pump for the well, that was in the off position. He flicked it up and, bingo, job done. Quelle idiote. I did feel foolish.

He stayed for a coffee but left remuneration to my discretion so I just gave him a 10 euro note and hoped that would be enough.

However, I have booked him to do the lights in Jay's room in the new year.

As I have already mentioned, our village offers Christmas trees to anyone willing to decorate one and keep it outside.

Prizes are awarded and presented at the Voeux du Maire in January.

We have always taken part and even won third prize a couple of years ago, so I duly filled in the form last month and handed it in at the Mairie.

Yesterday the trees were delivered. Ours is HUGE - twice as big as our neighbour's.

Jay has tied it to the drainpipe and now we have to find enough decorations to do it justice.

Of course we'll have have to wait until it stops raining and keep our fingers crossed that there are no more strong winds for a month or so.

I'll show you when it's all dressed up in it's finery.