Back to work

I was super happy to be back at work yesterday.  While I was gone things apparently fell to rack and ruin in the neckrub department. LTGW said, “We were lost without you so I went out and bought an Allegra” which turns out to be a weird back massager thingy.  Two bucks at the dollar store!  Who knew I was so easily replaced? Fortunately that little piece of wood doesn’t enter transactions in our sluggish, crabby and unsupportable ERP, which, so rumour has, will be replaced by SAP in a couple of years so I guess I needn’t worry about being replaced.  Chris liked his atheist greeting card. Patricia liked her pommeau – a Calvados/pear cider blend – and I suspect she’ll like it even better when she tries it.  Robof9 forgave me for not bringing him anything, and I only gave postcards to my other two teammates but AT LEAST it was someplace I’d actually been.

I continue to have issues with jet lag at odd times of the day, but I should be back in the rhythm of things more or less by Wednesday.

Katie was by and organized her stuff.  Then we all watched the last half of an HBO movie Iron Jawed Angels, which was about the fight for the vote for women in the US.  There was an incredible roster of talent and the script was pretty good, although tiresomely anachronistic in a couple of spots.  Hillary Swank was great.

It’s POURING.

I got a wonderful night’s sleep last night.  On Tammy’s recommendation I am taking glucosamine and it really does reduce inflammation in my back and hips.  While in Paris we were talking about her recent diagnosis of osteo arthritis and when I showed off the special noises both of my knees make these days she said I ought to get to a doctor.  Two days of glucosamine and the noise is much reduced, at least in my left knee.  I suspect that stumping down a hill in uncomfortable or non-orthotic shoes every morning is stressing the joints.  I wish I still lived close to Tom and Peggy – I’d probably be more inclined to swim.

Time for a quick hosing down and then out into this rain, which I now laugh at because I have a Goretex jacket from MEC.  Hey, at least I’m not likely to leave the damned thing on the bus, like my last umberella.

Christmas joke:

Ozzy Osbourne said, “Christmas is a time for remembering.  So that’s me ****ed!”

Coeur de Lion

On a day so blustery that it recalled the worst of Vancouver in December, with nasty horrid rain, we went to the Chateau Gaillard, what’s left of one of Richard Lionheart’s castles. 

It’s amazing, but after 10 minutes Tammy and I were only too happy to get the Peugeot down the 15 degree slope of the access road and into Les Andelys, one of the most delightful towns imaginable,  for a little bit of shopping and a meal of seafood salad and bifteck (18 Euros, cheapest meal you can imagine in this part of the world, and Marvellous).  We picked up some yummies for the morning, and some wrapping for my liquid gifts (which will have to be checked baggage, but c’est la vie).  Then some very very very interesting travel.  First a trip to the train station at St Pierre de Vauvray and god help me if I miss the 7:32.  Then an hour trip into Paris if nobody does anything stupid like strike.  Then hopping out at Gare St Lazare and grabbing a cab for a 60 Euro ride out to Roissy-Charles De Gaulle airport.  Then checking baggage, checking in (because it turns out I can’t print my boarding pass) and then hopefully not experiencing any difficulties with the return flight.  So there are potentially four places things can fuck up tomorrow, and I’m on a super tight timeline.

I have credit cards.  The way I figure it, the worst that can happen is I get stuck in Paris overnight;I may have to stay at the hotel at the airport.  Or maybe I’ll forget to composte my ticket and be grilled on some out of the way siding by the French transit police.

What’s all this about the Canadian government falling?  I understand  the Troughmaster General may prorogue Parliament sometime shortly.  I mean I hope Harper experiences a conversion to humanism on the road to Hull, but are we all ready for another freaking election?

I have more pictures of cats than anything else.  They really are adorable, and only one of them is tame enough to allow itself to be touched.

Scallops and scallions

We were informed that Le Neubourg had the best market in Normandy, or more properly, Eure, and by damn if it wasn’t true.  We will have lovely pictures when we finally get home.  We got a dozen freshly shucked scallops, scallions, lettuce, cress, grapefruit, a whole chicken and a snootful of ‘how the French really live’; for less than 30 Euros, which given that we had a 108 Euro meal last night at the mansion at the end of the lane kinda puts things in perspective.  The duck was amazing.

Driving in France is loads of fun.  I keep thinking of all the people I know who would love to be doing what I’m doing these days, tooling along country roads at 90K while sheep and goats and horses and cattle go about their business.  We got dreadfully close to two goats today.

 

I have very cute pictures of the feral cats.  There are apparently 18 but we’ve only seen seven.  Since I fed them the remains of my chicken lunch they’ve decided I’m a-okay.

I also have pictures of Connelles, the little town where we’re staying.  Hopefully we’ll get our cameras home in one piece.

Only one more full day and then…. back home.  It’s been a slice, but my own bed is calling me.  I’m not looking forward to 13 hours of being stuck in a plane and two hours on the ground in Toronto.

I really like the resort.

Here in Normandy

There are owls!  Yup, I had earplugs in last night so I didn’t hear them, but Tammy assures me they were hooting away. I have to feed coins into this thing to make it go, but by a special mercy of Providence it has an Anglo keyboard.  The one in Paris justabout slew me.

What to say?  All of France appears to be a particularly aesthetically pleasing method of passing along bacteria.  You greet SHOPKEEPERS with a handshake if you know them at all.  To secure the attention of the waiters, you sing out a particularly cheerful bonjour and then patienter.  But if I ever have any money, I’m going to ask the city of Paris to permit me to install a plaque on the sidewalk in front of the Trinite station which reads in French, on December 1 2008 a Canadian tourist witnessed a Parisien stoop and scoop AND put the deposit in the trash.  So it is possible for miracles to occur – I witnessed it from the window of the Cafe Rotunda.

French children are so well behaved that it’s ****ing scary. 

I highly recommend where we’re staying.  It has a laundry, pool, hot tub, nicely appointed kitchen, a view of the Seine, a view of a forest, and it’s on one of those freaking scary French roads which should be max 80k and of course the dear French folk think nothing of racing down it at night at speeds in excess of 100k, if the engine noise is anything to go by.

Tammy did the driving out of Rouen.  If we’d had the sense to video our trip out of Rouen we could probably make money out of it.  It’s a thousand year old town with streets and signage to match.  If I hadn’t gotten a young man at a gas station to go “Connelles? Oui, je connais Connelles.”  Then he told me to follow the signs for Vernon, which we did, past Igoville PSST LUDDITE THAT’S WHERE TRAIN PARADISE IS!!! and then we ended up on a freaking cowpath which turned out to be the right road after all.  Now today I get to drive, and what a bowl of joy that will be.  It’s a little gray diesel, standard, Peugeot.  But it’s peppy!  And it has a tach!

The library here has books in English, French, Russian, German, Hebrew and there’s even Joe Haldeman’s Forever War.  What more could a girl want?