The lack of posts for the last few days is due to taking advantage of Bear's absence and fine weather to catch up with seeing friends and going out.

News has spread that the welcome mat is out and various people have felt free to pop in for a coffee - or something stronger  - and a chat.

On Friday we took the Whale to Reims where we wandered round the town centre. CC enjoyed window shopping while Jay went for a browse in his favourite record and bookshops.

The Cathedral was surrounded by 'travaux', (in fact they are digging up roads and pavements all over the place,) but we were able to admire its imposing facade. Disabled access is not easy. There is no ramp at the main door and so to go in with a wheelchair you have to ask inside and make arrangements to go round to a side door (approached by a very uneven pavement) which they unlock specially. We looked round a few years ago so didn't venture in this time. Besides, it didn't look as though the side door would be accessible thanks to the roadworks.

However, we did go into the shop opposite which sells champagne and chose a bottle of our favourite Billecart-Salmon.

This weekend Charleville is hosting a food festival. The Place Ducale is full of little wooden cabins where various 'confreries' (literally brotherhoods) display their wares. The local ones include Cacasse a Cul Nu (bare bum stew!) which is traditionally made from potatoes boiled gently with onions and cornflour. When served in a restaurant they usually add thick slices of bacon and sausages in a rich gravy: Omelette au Jambon Sec d'Ardenne (jambon sec, a regional speciality, is a bit like parma ham): Lapin a la Biere (rabbit cooked in beer): Boudin Noir (black pudding) and Boudin Blanc (white sausage) a speciality from Rethel. Then we have two very famous local cakes - La Galette au Sucre and Le Gateau Mollet. They are both made from a brioche type mix but the former is flat and covered in sugar while the latter is made in a tall fluted tin and is exceptionally light and delicate.

From further afield came Les Goutevins de L'Enclaves des Papes with their wine from Valreas in the south, La Confrerie Tchantchés from Liege with their specially brewed beer called Djus and a white liqueur from Loupiac which should be tasted in a silver winetaster to release it's flavour. Then there was nougat from Tours and Sucre d'Orge (barley sugar) from a convent in Moret-sur-Loing.

Belgium was represented by Le Peket de Namur, a distillation of grains and juniper berries. It is, in fact, like a homemade eau de vie and a long time ago when this was banned, people referred to it as 'piquant' or 'peket' in the Walloon dialect. Of course, you can't think of Belgium without beer and this was  represented by le Franc Tour Nostre-Damme de Ciney who were also offering pancakes.

This morning at 10.30 there was a parade of all the Confreries through the town centre. All the Confreres have colourful costumes - a bit like academic dress - and it was fortunate that the weather has turned a bit cooler today, without actually raining as they might have felt too hot in temperatures in the upper 20's.

Celebrations continue until nine o'clock this evening with live music and dancing and, of course, eating and drinking.

According to CC I am paranoid about the cats going out. There is a notice in the front entrance asking people not to let the cats out that way because it leads directly onto the road.

They are allowed out in the back garden but I still worry because, being cats and innately curious, they go next door and beyond and French people are not always kind to felines.

If I can use bad weather as an excuse I tell them it's too wet or windy or whatever but we have had nearly two whole weeks of bright sunshine and nothing more than a light breeze so I have had to let them loose to play all day in the garden.

Chloe, being the youngest, is the most nervous about the big outdoors and, until today, she stayed very close to the door. However, when I went to inspect the vegetable patch she followed me and sniffed her way along the path, round the wheelbarrow and then up to Parsley who was having a dustbath right where I had sowed the beetroot a few days ago.

Parsley took exception to this invasion of her space and promptly chased Chloe all the way back to the conservatory. The poor little thing didn't venture out again for the rest of the day.

Just recently we have had a new visitor in the garden in the shape of a large white cat with a brown tail. Yesterday he chased Parsley and one of the twins and came in through the bedroom window. Today he tried his luck again but the window was closed. He came up to me, purring and looking for a fuss. It's difficult to tell whether he has a home or not. Lots of cats wander the village scavanging but, even a pet puss may not have the required tattoo on its ear or microchip (a recent alternative).

He came close enough for me to see evidence of fleas so now I'm paranoid again in case my cats want to go and play with him or invite him in for dinner.

One of my first jobs this week was to take the car in for its service. The Controle Technique (M.O.T. - due every two years) was done before Bear went to England. The car passed,  but there were one or two 'recommendations', including an adjustment to the handbrake (!) which didn't cause it to fail but ought to be put right.

It's good having a garage in the village so it's not far to walk back. Sylvain greeted me with his mischievous smile and proffered a grimy arm to shake as his hand was even greasier.

"Do you think it will be ready this evening?"

"Most probably but give a ring just in case."

I walked back via the local supermarket to get some meat for lunch. The chap at the butchery counter explained that he had trouble understanding my daughter when she asked for boudin blanc last week but they had both had a good laugh about it.

The physio's daughter came for another dose of English. We worked on verbs and then made buns before practising conversation. We walked to the surgery together so she could meet her mum and then I went to collect the car.

Sylvain said he had replaced the exhaust pipe and handbrake cables as well as doing the oil change etc for the service. He couldn't tell me how much it would be but I could have the bill tomorrow. When Bear phoned he was mad about the exhaust and said he had put a new one on last year. There ought to be a guarantee and I wasn't to pay until he came back. Huh, how does he expect to argue when he won't speak French?

During the evening two friends turned up with a delivery of champagne. The wife of one of them is part-owner of a small vineyard. Every so often they go to fetch a supply from her brother who runs the business in a village to the south of Reims. It is very good champagne at a reasonable price so I had ordered six bottles of 'ordinary' and six of rosé. 

Daniel and Claude stayed for an 'apero' of pastis  but, as they could see that Jay had started cooking they didn't stay too long.

We had a special meal to continue CC's birthday celebrations - starting with canapés and champagne and finishing with a superb cake which they had brought back from Paris.

This morning I was stuck indoors waiting for the doctor and a frozen food delivery. I didn't dare go outside to hang up the washing until Jay came downstairs as its impossible to hear the doorbell. Claudine, my neighbour popped in for a chat and to ask me if I'd collect her from her place of work tomorrow morning. It's not far, so it will be good practice.

I had another little drive this afternoon when I went to meet a lady at the surgery. She wants to improve her English in return for helping CC and me with French. She recently twisted her ankle so is having regular physio sessions. We met in the doctor's surgery last week and agreed that I would fetch her this afternoon after her physio appointment, bring her home for a cup of tea and a chat and then take her back to her house afterwards.

We got on very well and have arranged to meet twice a week for 'lessons'. On the way back to her house, a couple of villages away, she explained that her home was very old and 'not very pretty'.

I have to admit she was right on both counts. Her house does need a great deal of work from floor to ceiling but it has potential. At present they have one small living room cum dining room cum kitchen in a (just about) habitable condition on the ground floor. I don't know how she manages with a husband and three children.

On the positive side this room has French doors opening onto the garden and a lovely view over the countryside. Halfway down the garden we saw a little dog - a kind of airedale - tied to a post. We went to say hello and she explained that he was about a year old, his name was Oddie and they had bought him from LISA - a kind of RSPCA centre. He was gorgeous and really friendly.

Then we went indoors again and she went up a dangerous looking staircase to fetch the kitten for us to see. He was twelve days old, a tiny little scrap of a thing, mostly white but with a few grey and brown markings. CC and I took turns to cuddle him and she also brought 'mum' down to meet us. She was called Poivre and was a bigger version of her baby with almost exactly the same colouring.

On the way back we stopped at the garage for the bill. When I asked if there was a guarantee with the exhaust Sylvain knew exactly what I was getting at.

"Last year I replaced the back half but this year it was the front half. It's guaranteed for the first few weeks but that's all. If you don't use the car much you don't warm it up enough to prevent the dampness from rotting the pipe. One of my customers who only uses his car to run about the village has to have a new exhaust every year."

Well, that's the gist of it as I far as I could understand so I meekly wrote out the cheque, shook Sylvain's arm and came home, relieved that I haven't got to tell the Bear - just yet.

Maybe it was a waste of a day of freedom, but yesterday I did very little. Call it laziness or tiredness, but I really couldn't be bothered to do any gardening, despite the ideal weather and I only did the minimum indoors, in other words, necessary chores and meals.

Apart from that I watched TV, amused myself on the computer or dozed - except when the Whale wanted something.

Don't get me wrong, he isn't that bad, but he does call me more when there's no-one else about and then he'll interrupt my thoughts/writing/reading with a typical Whale-like request:

"Can I borrow your foot?"  This means putting weight on the walking frame and treading on his foot at the same time so he can raise himself without sliding forward.

"Will you get me a bottle of water please." He has a fear of being without water and even carries a plastic mug everywhere he goes. As soon as his bottle of springwater gets down to a third he asks for another one as though his life depended on it. 

"How would you say  . . . . . . . . in French?"  I think he spends a lot of time rehearsing conversations with the doctor or nurse as most of these requests are for things medical. Unfortunately they all regard him as bit of a hypochondriac (which he is) and are visibly fed up when he keeps asking questions.

He tends to get a bee in his bonnet about certain things. Recently it has been insects. There have been two or three little black beetles crawling across the floor and he has convinced himself they are cockroaches. I sprayed one with my universal bug killer but it does smell  dreadful so I trod on the next two. I've only seen pictures of cockroaches but I'm convinced these do not fit the description, poor things.

Then there are the 'mosquitoes'. He found insect bites on his arm and asked for an insect repellent before turning in last night. I mistakenly handed him the spray and he went mad with it. I could hardly breathe when I went into his room to get him ready for bed - the citronella pong was overwhelming. It was still noticeable this morning. Any sensible flying creature would avoid going anywhere near for a week I should think.

This week we must get on with wallpaper stripping, gardening and a certain amount of entertaining. Must make the most of Bear's absence to invite friends in.

As you must be aware, yesterday saw the first round of voting for the next President of France.

We are not entitled to vote but it has been interesting to hear the views of those who are. Some friends are delighted with Sarkozy but the ones with left leanings are not so happy with Segolene Royal. It appears she has made quite a few mistakes already, including upsetting teachers by implying they have it easy.

With the choice of twelve candidates, many people were wary that splitting the left vote could make room for Le Pen to come second as he did last time. Therefore, many of the socialist minded felt constrained to vote Royal, without conviction, but to avoid the same thing happening.

Some of the defeated candidates are telling their supporters to vote against Sarkozy rather than for Royal, and Bayrou, (also right) who came third, refuses to recommend Sarzozy to his followers.

Whatever the result of the second round it looks as though there will be more discontentment than accord.

As for our village, the FN (National Front) has a worryingly large following: 114 votes for Le Pen against 190 for Sarkozy and 137 each for Royal and Bayrou.

As far as I know, we are the only immigrants here. Do we have neighbours who are not happy about that?

Monsieur Roland arrived ten minutes early and solved the dilemma of 'handshake or kiss' greeting by offering me a bottle of champagne and going through the door before I could react.

Whale came through in his wheelchair and we opened the bottle as an aperitif. Conversation inevitably turned towards his medical problems and Roland tried to appear interested.

The best way to stop Whale's efforts to go into detail  was to get the meal on the table. He finds it difficult to eat at the same time as concentrating on speaking French.

Roland has an English son-in-law and a bilingual grandaughter but doesn't speak any English himself. He has some amusing views about English customs and cuisine although he has never crossed the Channel :

"You English like to eat savoury and sweet things mixed together."

"I once tried boiled potatoes that were put in the oven with lots of fat."  (Roast potatoes?)

"It's bad manners to roll up your sleeves."  (!!!)

I can only guess that his son-in-law is not a good cook.

Anyway, Roland seemed to enjoy the meal as he didn't leave anything. He did remark that "You English eat too quickly." and it's so true. The French are brought up to savour their food and taste it carefully. That maybe the reason why they need two hour lunch breaks.

Whale only interrupted the proceedings twice by insisting that he had to go and empty his 'legbag' between courses, and then by saying he would have to go to bed before the coffee "because my bum hurts."

Once he was settled, Roland and I had our coffee but only a short conversation before he decided it was time to go. It had been a very pleasant evening and I found I could understand him much better without the sound of children and loud music playing in the background. He also seemed to be speaking more slowly.

Despite what he has learned from S, our mutual physiotherapist friend, he says he is willing to come again, even when the Bear is at home. Perhaps if I arrange for her to come as well it may make him polite for a few hours. The Bear is always out to impress S but she sees through him easily.

Roland left just before 10 o'clock, we wished each other goodnight with four kisses (alternate cheeks) and then I loaded the dishwasher before going to bed.

Toby woke me up with a paw in my face as usual but instead of  running to the window to be let out he planted himself firmly on top of me to have his 'cuddle' - usually reserved for Bear.

Chloe, who normally sleeps in the bed has chosen a new place on top of the wardrobe since Bear's departure, so obviously the cats are missing him.

Despite his character I do feel sorry for him but I have to say all I miss about him can be summed up as follows:

No more pee on the toilet floor.

Bedroom no longer smells of 'unwashed old man'  - as CC puts it.

I am free to come and go without being 'timed'.

Can spend as long as I like on the phone without having him chuntering in the background.

Don't have to listen to interminable American reality TV programmes at full volume.

A much more pleasant atmosphere in the house so that friends feel welcome to pop in.

Speaking of which, I've Roland  invited to eat with us this evening.

It has to be said that I don't miss the Bear but then, neither do I relish the prospect of spending the weekend with the Whale  'a deux'.

Admittedly, I came to France with the intention of taking care of him and expected to do it on my own until the Bear begged to be allowed to 'help'.

The only way to survive the boredom is to see the funny side so here goes:

In the middle of a phonecall to a friend I used to work with I heard a cry from Whale, followed by several expletives. We cut short our gossip and I went to investigate.

"Bloody cats!" bellowed Whale, "They've peed in my shoe."

Sure enough there was a brown stain in one of his shoes, but I didn't feel inclined to sniff to see if it was indeed cat pee. Fortunately the shoes are washable so I popped them in the machine and  dug out a pair of the Bear's sandals from the bottom of the wardrobe.

It wasn't till later that Whale admitted he may have  mistakenly accused the cats as it was probably the result of the Normacol (enema) he had had earlier. It does tend to go everywhere.

In a way the 'holiday' started yesterday as it was very early in the morning when I dropped Bear off at the station but it took the rest of Wednesday to 'change gear', change the beds and do the washing etc.

In the afternoon I had agreed to 'look after' the physiotherapist's daughter. She is eleven but has been learning English since the age of four so her mum wanted to see how she would cope in an English speaking household. In fact she did remarkably well. Her accent was impeccable and she had a very good vocabulary (which proves what an advantage it is to start learning a foreign language at an early age). CC showed her how to make scones and we had afternoon tea (not something we usually do) and then she proudly took the rest of her baking home for her parents and brother to taste. 

So, we didn't fully appreciate our freedom till the evening: no telly blaring out, a civilised meal accompanied by champagne, pleasant background music and a chance to make conversation in a relaxed atmosphere.

The only problem was that my allergy kicked in with a vengeance and I could hardly breathe so I had to give in and have an early night cuddled up with plenty of Vicks and a couple of cats.

Today I went to the chemist to ask if I ought to change my medication or double the dose but they said increasing the nasal spray could actually make the symptoms worse so they gave me another one which I can use several times a day. Apparently the pollen count is high at the moment so lots of people are suffering with hay fever. Funny, I thought I was allergic to cats - but I have to admit my nose blocks soon after gardening.

This morning CC and I dug over some more of the vegetable patch but we had to come in by 11 o'clock to prepare lunch as we had invited Yvette. She was thrilled to be asked over for a meal as she doesn't bother to cook for herself on the days her husband goes to the centre. We all drank much more alcohol than we should have done, but a good time was had by all.

CC's back has been playing up again and the osteopath she has been seeing is on holiday for the rest of April so I took pot luck with the Yellow pages and made her an appointment with a different one.

At ten to six we turned up at his address and found it was an oldfashioned house facing the river (Meuse) and, like many such houses in Charleville, the front door was approached by an imposing staircase - not a good idea for patients suffering from aching backs and limbs. However, the Doctor himself (to advertise in the 'medecin' section of yellow pages you have to be a qualified doctor as well as being trained in your specialism) was very friendly and extremely efficient even though his methods were not at all like the previous osteopath. He understood CCs problem after just a few questions and knew exactly what to do when he examined her but he used very gentle techniques - no thumping with fist or tugging of legs. As I watched I was thinking to myself, "This is either going to be completely useless or surprisingly effective", and, fortunately it proved to be the latter. 

As we left, CC said she could feel that it had worked and so now we have to hope that it will last long enough for her to enjoy her birthday with friends in Paris. She had arranged to be away for her birthday simply to avoid the Bear, not knowing that he would decide to go away at the same time. Never mind.

The Bear was very nervous about his forthcoming trip and got himself into quite a state thinking of all the things he had to do to get ready.

He couldn't make his mind up which clothes to take and tried on various combinations of trousers and jackets to ask me if they 'went with each other' as he is colourblind. He had excavated a dark grey suit from the wardrobe and it fitted him very well but he only had brown shoes. We went shopping for black ones and eventually found a comfortable pair despite the fact that ninety percent of men's footwear these days seems to favour elongated toes a bit like stilettos but flattened. Bear was very pleased to find that the more oldfashioned shape still existed but was shocked at the price. Shows how long it is since he bought a new pair of shoes.

After much deliberation the case was packed and the suit discarded in favour of grey trousers and a black blazer. He took his two new pairs of trousers bought recently at Cora, where they have the very practical system of turning them up for you at no extra cost. It means you only have to find the right waist size but as he had misread the markings in his old pair as 40 instead of 48 his first attempts at trying on in the cubicle resulted in frantic calls for help. I eventually found his chosen styles in size 52 and the lady pinned one leg. The only disadvantage with having them turned up to measure was that she was too busy to do it right away. We had to go back next day to collect them.

We collected his new glasses yesterday and had lunch at La Fontaine. The manageress and waitresses wished him a good trip and kissed him goodbye and the owner gave him the address and said he expected a postcard.

It was fortunate that Bear remembered I had his passport in my handbag and he only mislaid it twice after I gave it to him. I only hope he knows which pocket it's in when he gets on  Eurostar.

He was too nervous to eat or sleep but was fairly alert at 6 o'clock this morning. He had asked me to drive home from town twice this week to prepare me for taking him to the station. (Jay had agreed to take him but there you are). I wasn't averse to the practice but felt a bit miffed to think that he hadn't shown much encouragement previously and although he asked how I felt behind the wheel he didn't comment on how well I was doing. OK, perhaps I wasn't driving well in his eyes, but I felt pretty confident and a darn sight safer than when he has driven lately.

He was kind enough to tell me not to wait at the station to see him off so that I could get back home and then phone him. We said our goodbyes in the carpark and I have to admit to feeling just a bit sorry for the lonely figure dragging his case towards the entrance - but also very relieved that I wasn't going with him. I drove through town instead of taking the direct route back - just for the hell of it.

He had asked me several times what I was planning to get up to during his absence. Well, nothing much really: there's wallpaper to strip and gardening to do and then when his brother phoned a few nights ago:

"So he's coming over for a couple of weeks then?"

"Yes"

"I bet you're going to celebrate."

"YES!"