Alcohol dependency

I know I haven’t posted for a few weeks, lots of things have been happening in my life and in the world generally.

Where do I start?

Me, I am fine, am saying what I feel and doing what I want to do. 

Time for me.

Children are fine, grandchildren are fine, I thought about using the word ‘kid’ but I am not a goat and neither are they … just hate that word when it is being used in the wrong context.

Since my last posting we have also been to another friends birthday celebration. He was very good, did not drink to excess and I was happy to be driven home by him, I did suggest that we book a taxi but that was poo-pooed as you can imagine.

I recently took a trip to the UK, a friend offered a lift which I gladly accepted. Bit annoyed though, she has, this time, asked for payment when in the past when I have offered she has said no problem… some issues there methinks, maybe something to do with her offspring!

A dear friend out here invited himself to dinner one evening. She told me the other night that she was a bit concerned that he would get home in one piece considering the amount he had drunk…

So what happens now? I will speak with our doctor and let her know how booze is taking over his evenings.

He starts at around 5.00 pm and then decides to go to bed 4 hours later and he is putting away around three full glasses an hour, and when I say full, I mean to overflowing!  Over 2 bottles of wine an evening? 

He is as fresh as a daisy in the morning – no hangover at all - and as far as I am concerned that speaks volumes.

I thought it would be nice to stay in the UK for a few weeks or months or maybe forever....

   

Truth Hurts

It seems it does tonight…

I haven’t written about my ‘intimate’ life on this blog before but I feel the need to do so now.

A few weeks ago, prior to our holiday, we went to celebrate the birthday and also housewarming of a lovely French friend. Himself imbibed too much and almost fell asleep at the table. I thought we should leave and go home, how we made it into our door I don’t know – he could barely keep the car on the road and French roads being what they are, we went the very rural route, I clung to the seat as we swerved through the lanes. Fortunately we got home unscathed. He did not remember any of it the next day.

Last week we celebrated another friend’s birthday. By 9pm he was ready to leave, dozing at the table, again. We left and just made it home, no shortcuts this time. Thank heavens the gendarmes were not around, he would have lost his licence.

Tonight, we were supposed to be at another French friend’s, for the evening, again celebrating a birthday. 

He had forgotten to tell me so it was not pencilled in. (grrr)

He was bemoaning about missing this event and I said “At least I won’t be driven home by a drunk tonight”.

Ooops, you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.

Truth hurts…. He did not like what I said – he didn’t have an answer and has gone to bed slamming the (his) door.  

He has a drink problem and won't acknowledge it. I live with him, I don’t have to but I do.

We sleep in separate rooms as his nocturnal 'behaviour' disturbs me too much, he does not snore, he just shouts and sometimes screams in his sleeps. His conversations, well one side of, are amazing but I cannot stand being woken three or four times a night and having to listen. He also kicks and punches so I am best out of the way. As far as he is concerned he has had a good nights sleep. He is obviously disturbed about something or maybe his medication has a play in this.  .  

Maybe things will change.

Egypt

Have just come back from another amazing holiday, 2^nd one this year, which is a record for me as I normally do holidays close to home.

Last year our daughter said that she was off to Sharm el Sheik for a couple of weeks, I offered to babysit and thereby hangs a tale.

My offer was taken up, and when we looked at the costs for me it would not be a lot more for another person to join me for double occupancy. So I said to Himself, why don’t you come – response was, “yes why not!”

Fortunately we had a little spare cash so that paid for the holiday, just needed to find ‘cool’ clothes for the trip. I umm’ed and aah’d about a swimming costume as I don’t swim, just sink, and also my middle has expanded and I am conscious of it, but I found shorts and skimpy tops which were fine and I just exposed the bits I was comfortable with and developed a gentle tan (factor 50 came into play) as I did not want to burn and end up with skin like blistered leather.

Himself had a pair of swimming trunks from when I first knew him – they should be in a museum of the 60’s, at least they contained what was necessary to contain.

We all assembled at glorious Gatwick for the off.

Oh what fun doing a package holiday, first one for us…. And probably the last!!

We paid for extra legroom on our seats so that we were closer to our children, not that it made a lot of difference. There was the jump seat for the hostess just the other side of the aisle and another guy was in the seat opposite her. He was absolutely enormous. Not tall but his girth , to me, was unbelievable. His thighs were like my waist which is not small….. he was shoehorned into the seat and had an extension for his seatbelt. His family were elsewhere on the plane and normal size….. I just cannot get my head round it.

Arrival was late to our destination. Stepping out of the airport into 40+ degrees of temperature was unbelievable. Like walking into an oven.

We got to our hotel quite late but there was food available for a little supper.

Our room was on the ground floor overlooking a couple of pools, one quiet and one a tad noisy during the day. At least they were quiet at night.

The bathroom is just how I would like ours done and himself agrees – yeah, one step in the right direction. It had a walk in shower, superb basin arrangement and, of course, the obligatory loo. We had twin beds, and they were huge! In fact the whole layout was good.

Our days were spent lounging around the pool, drifting into the bar, eating breakfast, lunch and dinner. The only thing missing was bacon to go with the fried eggs in the morning…

They had 5 a la carte restaurants, Lebanese, Indian, Chinese, Italian and English. The Lebanese was OK, not like I have had here at all. The Indian was excellent, Italian passable, English – well what can one say, very English. The Chinese just had a certain ingredient missing, so no ribs to be had.

We took a short shopping trip into Sharm el Sheik, it is like a building site. There are some lovely looking places but others that are in the process of being finished. I couldn’t find anything untouristy as souveniers. There was just a load of tat in the shops.

Whilst we were there other holidaymakers arrived, lots from ‘oop North’. No disrespect meant but overhearing some conversations I got the impression that the Northerners were financially better off than us Southerners. They honeymooned in exotic places and holidayed regularly in hot ‘package holiday’ places. I always thought that they were poor ‘oop North’.  There was a lot of ’lard’ being barely contained in swimsuits and bikinis giving rise to red peeling bodies. What I did find disturbing was the number of obese children there and watching the families filling their faces at mealtimes it is no wonder that there is a future health timebomb.

Then the Russians arrived!  Bigger, bolder and very inconsiderate, greedy and rude…    Apparently they are buying this particular complex and most of the staff are being laid off to be replaced. Won’t be going there again!

A trip to Cairo was booked, by bus, for three of us. Himself decided he couldn’t do 7 hours on the bus so I went with daughter and granddaughter leaving the men to look after the grandson, or was it the grandson looking after the other two, I’m not sure.

Off we went, early start of 1am, trundling into the dark desert with a lot of strangers.  I just sat and wondered what the hell I was doing that ungodly hour. I had an Egyptian guy sat next to me, and for the whole journey he snored. I didn’t really rest. I saw the sun rise and a very bleak outlook. 

Question: Jungle or Desert – Jungle every time!!

We went through the Suez Tunnel and into Cairo. Our guide gave us a potted history of the city and I found it quite interesting but also depressing as he was so proud of it all. I thought that Cairo was overcrowded, dirty, noisy and the air grey with pollution.   There had been riots a few weeks back and you could still see the burnt out buildings.

First stop was the Museum to see  King Tutankhamun’s  treasures but unfortunately it was a whistle stop tour as the Museum would be closing early due to Ramadan. The artifacts were absolutely incredible. I felt in awe of them. The detail was delightful to see. I recently saw a programme about the use of gold in art and apparently in ancient Egypt dwarves were goldsmiths as they were assumed to have magical powers, if that was the case then yes they definitely did have amazing powers to create such beautiful objects.

Our next stop was Giza to see the pyramids. What I found off-putting was  travelling along the main route to the pyramids and passing a canal that was full of bags of rubbish as well as a couple of dead horses. When you consider that water is a precious resource it isn’t a good advertisement for the area!   

I felt small and insignificant against the pyramids, yes they are awesome and I am glad that I have seen them at last.

We didn’t get to the Valley of the Kings or to see Petra in Jordan, an excuse to go again but will be more selective as to which company I go with or even go independent. I even have someone who would like to go as well and I am not talking husband – he does not want to fly again!!

The day we came home we had to wait at Sharm airport – Ramadan put everything on hold. Also the airplane was 1 ½ hours late taking off and the big guy was squeezed into a regular seat . Didn’t get into bed at our daughters until 5.30 in the morning. Such a long tiring day, no wonder Himself does not want to fly again, me? I can hack it.. 

Invasion

There is a growing British community out here in France, this influx is quite frightening as well as interesting.

For this part of France it is the accessibility via the budget airlines to Nantes, Poitiers, Limoges and La Rochelle that has made the difference. When we first arrived we didn’t even think of flying here, it just wasn’t an option!

I don’t know if the same is happening in Normandy, Mayenne, the Loire or Brittany or even places further South, although it probably has over the past 20 years as those areas were de rigueur then. I remember holidaying in not only Brittany but also the Charente many years ago and there were Brits wishing to invest in those areas and also as far down to the Dordogne.

It appears that the majority of British ex-pats in the South of France are of the thespian, or musical, variety with a penchant to writing cookery books whilst holidaying in their villas overlooking Carcassonne or Port Grimaud, “Ah Daah,ling, such fantastic views, very nice my lovely, have another glass of The Widow, and have you seen ‘xxx’ lately Mwah, Mwah”. Thank heavens that I did not move there!

There are now lots of ladies in their early 30’s to mid-50’s who have arrived in my neck of the woods with their aspiring spouses, some of whom are working either in France or commuting from the UK to their homes here.

These ladies need to keep themselves occupied if they are not tied down with children, so they go into selling their crafts, consumables, company products or even selves.

I do not want to buy skin care that comes in fancy bottles and cost the earth. Products that are not tested on animals it seems,” Ha!” I say “were you bothered about animal testing before you started selling this expensive stuff?”. No, I will not buy these products – I will stick to my simple cream that has been around for a very long time!

And as for wonderful paints that will cover every, and any surface. No thank you. ‘Shabby chic’ French is not me at all, even the French in this region don’t do ‘Shabby chic’.

Twee things that a made and put into galleries etc., and as for the chutneys, pickles, marmalade, etc., Not at those prices darling!!

Pork sausages and pates… are these people for real? Nic nacks, bibelots and charming things for babies.

The invasion is amazing, and in truth, alarming. I didn’t realise how many of my English compatriots are here and that it is only the tip of the iceberg. I have gleaned this information through a social networking group…. And I know a lot of Brits that are not members of this group so the implications are daunting.

No wonder the French are concerned about the influx of immigrants.

There are Artists and Authors, Beauticians, Corporate advisors, Dieticians and Dressmakers, Egg producers, Fancy cake makers, Gardeners, Hairdressers, Immobiliers, Jewellers, Keep fit teachers, Ladies who lunch, Masseurs, Number crunchers, Organisers, Pedicurists, ‘Quality food’ sellers, Reiki practitioners , Scarf sellers, Tea Shop owners, Translators and Therapists of all sorts, U, V, W, X, Y & Z… and then there are the spouses who are Architects, Builders, Carpenters, plasterers & etc.. They all either have or know a man who can.

I know a lovely French guy who sends me regular emails about the threat of Islam in France – he should be worried about the threat of Englishwomen selling their wares.

Quelle horreur, le plus recent invasion anglaise.

ANNOYANCE!!!!

Generally I am a relaxed sort of person, but sometimes I get a little riled.

I have a grandson who will be 8 years old this summer. His name is Terry. He was born with cerebral palsy. He is also quadriplegic and has epilepsy. His mother has been his sole carer as her husband could not cope with the fact that he has disabled son, and they have since divorced. They have a daughter who is coming up to 10 years old and my daughter has a son aged 14 years. (there were issues between son and stepfather which are now ‘resolved’ hmmm).

Terry went into Kings College Hospital for a routine operation the beginning of December 2011, it was to change the ‘gastro’ site through which he had been fed for the last few years as he does not have a swallow reflex, more of that later!

After the ‘op’ things went a bit awry. Dear Terry had to have many surgical interventions and also further surgery which also involved opening his abdomen completely (imagine a cross cut into your abdomen – north/ south/ east/ west!). There were also infections that he caught and have been cured. Over the months that he was in Kings he was well looked after in their intensive care unit. We can only have praise for the care that they gave to Terry. Amazingly enough Manuka honey was used for the healing process… We can only thank Kings for the care that they gave to this little chap of ours.

During his stay at Kings it was discovered that Terry had a problem with his throat. It seems that the back of his throat is totally relaxed which is why he has had problems swallowing. Yes, he is now being fed directly into his stomach (but now bowel) but any other naturally produced fluids were being directed to his lungs as well as stomach. He used to get so many lung infections that he needed extra antibiotics for the infections. My daughter, his mother, would ask for this problem with his throat/lungs to be investigated and she was always shrugged off as a paranoid mother…. Oh you know what I mean.

To help this little chap he has had to have a tracheotomy. That is a breathing tube to help. As he now has a breathing tube he needs care 24/7….. having the tracheotomy has solved the problem of the lung infections, he is so much better!!

Therein lies the problem, Terry now needs 24 hours a day care, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year . Nurses are needed to help overnight.

My daughter is in a small 3 bed house with a teenage son and pre-teen daughter.

Terry has recently been moved to his local hospital which is nearer his family. So much better for all concerned. My daughter now would dearly love to have him home but there is a problem, and what a problem it is proving to be…..

She has a small 3 bed house. Terry now needs 24 hour care with carers coming in to help. He used to share with his older brother, upstairs, but that is not sensible. Terry is putting on weight (at last!) and there are problems lifting him. He is not tiny after all and a hoist is now needed. It seems that ‘the powers to be’ have decided that Terry could go to foster carers that have the necessary equipment in place and that his mother can go visit him there…….but they will not arrange for the equipment to be put in place in his own home!!

OK, so what the fuck is going on here please??? (excuse the language)

As a grandmother I am angry.

I did send an email to no. 10 but you are limited to the amount of letters (including spaces and punctuation) and eventually got a standard reply.

I will send the above to no.10, The Daily Mail, Telegraph and all and sundry (with a little extra added) until I get a satisfactory response...

It is the cost of all the agencies involved!!!!

Just had a thought.... will contact his other grandparents - don't hear a lot from them!!!! About time they got involved....

Grammar

I have noticed on various forums and social sites the poor grammar from some of the English people I know, am acquainted with and just do not know.

The one word that seems to be overused in the wrong context is ‘of’ – ie: “I am fed up of the weather.”   “I would of taken the short route” “you could of told me earlier” &etc. the ‘of’ word seems to have taken place of ‘with’ and ‘have’…. Now I also noticed that most of the offenders are under 40 years old, so have deduced that it is either the fault of the education authorities dumbing down their English lessons and examinations, or the dumbing down of the spoken word. I must admit I enjoy the English language and have always tried to ensure that my spelling and grammar is correct – possibly to do with my strict teachers!

Oh dear, when I wrote the above I was, as you can imagine, quite appalled with the English education system (or even ‘of’ the Education system).

But progressing from the above, I have, since, seen Mr Sarkosy depart from the offices of French presidency and Mr Hollande arrive to take his place. Heavens knows what will happen to la belle France, I wait with baited breath.

Will I have to move back to the UK or stick it out in the country I have come to love??

Meantime, reading the news from the UK I have been absolutely appalled at some things that have been happening. Young girls ‘groomed’ by Asian men for their sexual needs… Why, oh why is this happening?  We have reports of ladies in their 90’s brutally attacked. How and why has this dis-order occurred over the last few years?

I do love the country of my birth but I cannot understand how it has changed so much. Is it just the press reporting on the worst? Surely there are good things that happen so what has happened to the feel-good factor?  

Why should the worst of the world be reported to the expense of the good.

I see TV programmes  like ‘Rip off Britain’  ‘Watchdog’ etc… they are always knocking the country – and are  too negative. There do not seem to be programmes that are positive about Britain which is such a shame.

It is also the same with the British press. Why are the English/British continually knocking the country they are living in?

I just cannot understand it.

Young TJ is now in a hospital nearer his home, he is on the mend at last..... There are other things going on, will tell all later.

And why has the blogger layout been changed.... might have to move elsewhere!

NIMBY'S

Have just read about a lovely 15th century church in Somerset, the bells would chime every quarter hour as well as on the hour. It seems that incomers were not too happy with the quarter hour chimes and made complaints to the local council and asked that they be turned off between 11pm and 7am. A reasonable request but it seems that it is not possible to turn the chimes off at night so the bells are now silent.

 All day and all night.

 You get used to hearing about Nimbys in England, a bit like those townies who move to the countryside then complain about cockerels crowing or cows mooing or sheep bleating or even tractors on the road.

 I didn’t think that they had Nimby's in rural France.

 It seems they do.

 How would ‘not in my back yard’ translate - ‘pas dans ma cour’ no – it doesn’t work.

As we are now in a new house in a new location we take different routes to different shops. We spotted a lot of groundwork being done just outside of town and wondered what was being done.

 Over the weeks we saw a beautiful large barnlike structure being erected with the most beautiful wooden frame. Maybe a new sports –hall or a ‘cathedral', it is far too big for a regular barn. Hmm what could it be?

 We watched the roof go on then the walls with huge ‘door’ openings. Still no idea what is could be.

 The grounds outside have now been tarmaced and posts have been placed at the far end of the site.

 Then, one day, talking to a friend we have found out what is going on.

 On the edge of the town, in another direction, there is a Sawmill and timber yard.

 The business has been family run for 3 generations.

 Around 40 years ago the landowner next door got permission to build houses on his land and a small estate was constructed. The residents knew that the Sawmill was next door and they weren’t bothered, after all it was there first and the machinery was only used certain hours.

 One of the, now elderly, residents decided to sell up and move into a retirement home, the house was sold and everything seemed fine until the new owner decided to complain to the maire about the noise from the sawmill.

 The proprietor was advised that he must reduce the noise of his machinery and the hours of use were also restricted.

 Over the past few years he did all he could to comply to the maire’s requests.

 The resident continued the complaint and now the Sawmill has had to move, every last splinter I think, hence the new site that we have seen being built.

 So the Nimby won. And the Nimby is French.

I expect he will complain when another housing estate is built behind him.