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- Thursday, 01 January 2009 07:48
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My Blog Posts
My seventeen-year-old son Benj was dithering about whether to go ice-skating with some friend from lycee."Go on," I told him over the phone. "You'll enjoy it."
This big freeze has come at a good time. Our wood store was starting to dwindle. This year we are trying to use as little gas heating as possible, for frugal and green reasons, so are relying on our woodburning stove to keep us warm. And as we have several hectares of woodland providing us with free wood, it makes sense.
We've made some mistakes with our animals, but not as many as with the children. It was a mistake letting Benj when he was 3 help me with the hoovering. He sucked up the contents of the dog's water dish to see what would happen, and what happened is that the vac blew up.
Having a teenage son, an 'ado' of my own who has introduced me to lots of his friends the same age, I can honestly tell you that young French men smell. Yes, smell. They smell gorgeous. Every new one I meet seems to smell better than the last. How do they do it?
Monday night saw the strongest winds we've had since moving to Creuse two-and-a-half years ago. We found out that the tempête was coming from the France Meteo website well in advance so spent time tidying away or tying down anything we thought might take off in the gales.