It's offical .... we belong!

Well I thought things were quietening down a little but we have just had the busiest week ever.  It always seems a bit more holiday-like when hubby returns from London. For a few days holiday mode sets in and daily drudgery is forgotten to be regretted at a later date.

The kids returned to school after half term but this ‘Wednesday no school business’; is really unsettling you are just getting into a routine of the week and then they are home again for the day, which is lovely I do really like spending time with my children, it just somehow upsets the rhythm of the week as we are not used to it yet.

This week of course was hectic with the young man of the house’s ninth birthday which fell on Thursday.  We were determined to keep things as similar as possible as before, so as not to highlight the difference and him missing his London mates.  His first request was fish and chips for supper – ‘Dad can just go to the chippy’, uhm.... no he cannot. So I did my best and it seemed to pass muster.  Then the birthday party itself, well trying to control 20 kids at any one time is a headache in itself but try and do it in another language it’s a whole new ball game.  They either really didn’t understand me or chose not to, not sure which is worse. To top it all, le fils decided to go for a swim, determined to do so on his birthday, forget that is was absolutely freezing; it had to be done, he was joined by two of his crazier male friends, the girls all laughed and took video’s on their phones to later be uploaded to Facebook...... they are 9, for goodness sake! I believe General de Gaulle died on the 9^th November just wondering if there is a connection?

As the house was going to be in chaos anyway we decided to invite the parents, neighbours and various friends for drinks and cake too, WHAT was I thinking, well clearly I wasn’t.  I was so tired by this stage I forgot how to speak at all and any small amount of French I did have completely deserted me all that was forming in my head were phrases of Zulu, not so helpful.  However we survived, the rain came at the right time and didn’t ruin the fireworks, such as they were.  Obviously no bonfire night here so we hoped to do a home job on the 5^th but it was way too windy and dangerous so we did them on Saturday instead.

Sunday saw hubby and son off to son’s first rugby league tournament, they left at 8.30 and returned at 5ish, (so not just the morning then). Son completely chuffed with his first rugby medal albeit for the wrong code! La fille and I had the joy of cleaning up after the party but we rewarded ourselves by curling up on the sofa together and watching Saturday’s Strictly, always a treat.

Monday was a public holiday to commemorate Armistice Day and as mentioned before we were the guests of Monsieur Mayor.  What we didn’t realise was that it was his last official ceremony after 19 years of service to St Paul.  So the great and the good of St Paul gathered outside the Marie and then walked the short distance to the Place de République where the war memorial is.  We were lead by the oldest veterans of the village carrying the colours, followed by the pompiers and gendarmes, then Monsieur Mayor and other dignitaries.  We formed a semi circle around the memorial and all waited respectfully, the mayor began to speak and then, wait yes, I am not going crazy, and he’s speaking English and officially welcoming us to St Paul.  It was a great surprise and a bit of shock but it just highlighted how welcome we have been made to feel here.  The Representative of the Conseil General not to be out done also welcomed us in English and was very proudly wearing his British Legion poppy, made me feel awful I hadn’t bothered, not because I didn’t want to it just felt like a very British thing to do in a small French town.  The ceremony was followed by drinks and nibbles in the Marie, where we met more fellow town’s people. 

There was one lady who was speaking really rapid French and seemed very concerned for our ‘prayer life’ I tried to explain we were not Catholics but this was not registering.  After a few pleasantries we came to some sort of understanding.  On our walk home, me carrying the baguettes, (the Mayor commented I was doing the perfect imitation of a French mother) la fille noticed this same women at her gate very close to the turning to our road.  She was waiting for us with the church program for the winter; she then accompanied us the short distance to our house.  Husband invited her in for a drink but she had to go home and lock up, she returned minutes later with a bottle of vin rouge which is made by her family. Stay with me: her husband’s, brother’s son (so nephew once removed?) made the wine and owns the cave.  We were pleased it was one we had visited recently so were able to show some knowledge and appreciation.  We invited her to stay for our simple lunch of said pain, fromage and saucisson, oh no, couldn’t possibly.  Of course you can, no I need to call my daughter (policewomen in Paris) otherwise she will worry about me, so off she trots to return 10 or so minutes later to enjoy our simple déjeuner.  What an amazing character, we learnt she originally hails from Lorraine and has lived in St Paul for 57 years.  She and her husband built their house together which I have always admired.

So from a chaotic children’s birthday party and drinks party all on the same day, to a official welcome at the Remembrance ceremony and attending the Coupe de Monde;  I think we are making our mark in a small way and making friends along the way. We may still be the ‘fou Anglaise’ (or in my case ‘fou Sud-Africain’) but we are also officially residents of St Paul, what JOY!