dpnice - Archived Blog Posts

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The days speed past, work takes over with other priorities becoming important and suddenly the holiday becomes a memory, just a collection of photographs stored on Flickr.

Costa Rica was a disappointment. I had expected to be astonished anew every single day yet finally all I felt was old. Costa Rica is not for the retired Englishman refinely dressed, hiking through forests whilst recording the Latin names of every botanic species he discovers. It is a cheapish country for young Americans to go spend a week or two experiencing the thrill of zip-lines in the canopy and surf on the beaches.

The plant life is luxuriant and exactly as I had hoped but I had forgotten the quantity of daily rain required to support such exuberant growth. As quaint as eating local specialities may seem it becomes less amusing when the basic restaurant menu is completely uninteresting. The hotels may be cheap, attracting hoards of attractive young men, they really are not suited to quiet reflection at the end of a strenuous day hiking.

I felt as I did when in my younger days I too hiked from hostel to hostel just to see a little of the world. I am now too old to appreciate the excitement of such Spartan environments.

There were quiet moments when the beauty of the place managed to transpierce my melancholy and for those moments the visit was well worth while.

I mustn’t forget that I did get to fulfil the desires that provoked the idea of going there. I saw my first volcano, experienced real waterfalls, strolled along a coconut lined beach and wandered trough a tropical forest.

Also let’s not forget the myriad of handsome men stripped to the waist who spiced up my morning stroll along the beach.

 

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After long and painful reflection I am once again a fully paid up member of the French smoking population.

After eight months of sacrifice and seeing my life deteriorating into a boring morass of depressive solitude I decided that my hopes of even a slight improvement were futile. As ridiculous as it sounds I really was incapable of functioning in life as a non-smoker.

I could well have continued not smoking as it no longer required any effort not to buy cigarettes the problem was that I had no life either.

The minute I placed that first cigarette between my fingers it was as if a veil had been lifted from my sight. Suddenly everything seemed clearer, life regained the beauty I had so badly missed. A peace and calm descended on me which I had not experienced since 2007. Everything seemed happier and life worth living again. My enthusiasm for life returned quasi-instantaneously.

So here I am once again living my solitary life but once again with an enjoyment that I had sorely missed.

Work and leisure exist in harmony.

I have even recommenced cooking real meals and enjoying it with a glass of wine at hand. Duck in honey accompanied by fried rice eaten on my terrace watching the curtain of rain obscuring my view of the bay provided so much pleasure that I can’t understand why I couldn’t attain it as a non-smoker; it seemed such a simple pleasure, so why was it impossible without a cigarette?

So I realise the risks I am running for my future health and wellbeing; yet even without smoking there was no guarantee of remaining cancer free for the rest of my life. All I can think of is that I have regained the balance in my life and that all the simple things that gave my life meaning and pleasure have returned.

I hope I am not disappointing those who provided much of the necessary support during my attempt to stop.

 

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There seems not to be a positive synonym for “blowing your own trumpet”. Pride seems too strong and doesn’t seem to imply that you are just informing everyone on how efficient you have been.

I have been covering for the chamber maid’s absence for the last two weeks and now I find myself obliged to cope with the cook being absent as well. Working for a family certainly has disadvantages when you feel responsible and attempt to ensure that the absence of staff doesn’t reflect on your employer’s expectations.

It is evident why madame thinks I am perfection disguised as an ageing English homosexual. For fourteen days I have been doing the work of two and there has been absolutely no difference in madame’s daily life. In my spare time I am capable of doing everything that the chamber maid takes a whole day to do. The bragging part comes in when I proclaim that everything I do is actually better than she could ever manage.

Thankfully madame has been away hunting leaving me the time to advance myself and get all the essential work completed. Exhausting as it may be I am realistic enough to be aware that I do nothing different to that which a mother coping with a family does. It is just more refined and nothing is left undone.

The compensation when madame is absent is having my evenings free during which I can provide myself with all the luxuries of life that I have no time to do when I am working. It is surprising how important evenings become when you don’t have them.

There is a self satisfaction in knowing that you have completed every single task and done it well that evokes a genuine pleasure.

Seeing that this may well be my last evening for a while I am not bothering cooking and will just shove a pizza in the oven. Mind you the candles are already lit. Why is it that a scented candle lifts you out of depression and melancholy the moment its perfume invades the room? A glass of whisky is sitting on my desk alongside the computer screen and now that I am smoking again I must honestly say I am a peace with the world and extremely content with life and my achievements.

Talking about smoking again: I have set myself a few rules to control myself and hopefully will be able to keep to them. After eight months of not smoking I find that there are moments during the day when I have absolutely no desire or need to smoke.

 

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I suppose that an optimist would say that life is filled with small unexpected pleasures. Madame decided to eat out this evening leaving me free to relax at home doing nothing. This considerate action is being repeated Saturday evening. Now as one of my dearest pleasures is spending a rare quiet evening at home I suppose that means that I am an optimist.

I awoke in the middle of the night shivering a couple of days ago; a sure sign that winter has arrived on the Côte d’Azur. Time to put a blanket on the bed. Time to pack away all my summer linen clothes and retrieve my winter woollens from storage. Time to spend several weeks patiently waiting for monsieur to decide to put on the central heating.

Since my return from Costa Rica my cat has developed a fixation that I will desert him again and subsequently spends the day following me around crying stridently. He awaits the minute that I sit down and pounces into my lap in order to curl up into a ball and grab a cat nap. If I have the audacity not to scratch him between the ears he then bites me.

As heart warming as it may be to have his uninterrupted attention it is becoming dangerous having him intertwined around my ankles most of the day. Plus I would occasionally appreciate a moment alone to cross my legs without his balancing act on my lap. I must add that his cries are beginning to get wearing and playing on my nerves. Why are cats so independent and do only what pleases them?

Seems that I will be having some time off in November to take some holiday. Now with the financial crisis worrying me and my new apartment draining my savings monthly I had thought about not spending any more money this year. Yet it would be quite pleasant to take a short break in the home country. There is the Francis Bacon retrospective at the New Tate in London and I am certain there is some musical or stage play I would like to see. After a couple of days in London I could go down to Oxford and stay with friends for a few days. By then I should be ready to return to the sunny weather here and I am certain that I could persuade other friends to return with me to spend a few days here.

Time to find out the price of cheap fares on Easy Jet.

I shall be doing my juggling act coping with two jobs until the 7th October as it seems the chamber maid is too ill to return to work. Those of you slightly fashion conscious have you ever watched the grand couturiers fashion shows and wondered how on earth you would wash and iron their clothes? Chanel, Dior, Missoni, etc. I am having to deal with all the big names and for your information most of the clothes are labelled “HandWash Only”.

 

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Yet another unexpected quiet evening on my own. Madame has flown over to Corsica for the evening. Unfortunately the fridge is becoming empty so I have to resort to eating a macaroni cheese this evening.

Work is still occupying every living moment and it is when things begin to overpower me that I consciously remind myself how privileged I am. How many ordinary people have the chance to walk out on to a terrace overlooking a garden plummeting to the coastline below? There in front of them is the sea spreading out as far as the eye can see with the mountains behind Nice rising in the foreground?

I can’t even guess how many millions of dollars worth of luxury yachts are moored in the rade of Villefranche this evening all lit up for my personal appreciation. There must be over 20 of them nestling in to spend the night here.

Holiday dates have just been decided so have spent the early evening on Internet booking a week in England. It will be good for my moral to see some old friends. I have included a couple of days in London to enable me to include some theatre and museums in my stay. I am thinking of booking tickets to see “Wicked” and “Blood Brothers”. I have already reserved a ticket for the Francis Bacon retrospective at the Tate Modern. Add to all that a few good restaurants and a good time should be assured.

With a little luck it will be cold but dry allowing me to wear some of my classic winter clothes.

Life is good!

 

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I am absolutely exhausted. Madame left this morning for a weekend hunting and since then I have been clearing up the villa and washing all the linen; I am on my tenth machine. Needed to go shopping to get in all the cleaning supplies for this month and take all the clothes to the dry cleaner’s; thank goodness there are some clothes that can’t be washed.

I am also feeling all hyped up with the efficiency of my organisation. All the washing done leaving me free to clean the villa from top to bottom tomorrow and wade through the ironing. I am planning on doing nothing on Sunday as I think I deserve a day free, a day to myself to go out to a restaurant for lunch.

Monday is set aside for washing the cars and cleaning up around the swimming pool.
I may be living in a paradise in a villa filled with antiques and seeped in luxury but my working life is no more special than an ordinary housewife. I certain that the majority of the maîtres d’hotel who work in the villas here at Cap Ferrat don’t have as much drudgery as I do.

Before leaving madame did leave me an envelope containing a cash bonus. Very considerate but honestly not very generous. Still I must not complain seeing that it will pay for my holiday in England allowing me to leave my savings intact.

It is blowing an absolute gale outside. I have never seen the pine trees bending so far. It is incredible that they don’t just up root themselves.

A friend gave me a recipe for Ketchup Sauce which I am going to try this evening in accompaniment to a maigret de canard.

It is such a relief to be smoking again. At least when I have a moment free I am able to really relax and unwind. I am manageing to only smoke those cigarettes that provide a real pleasure so let’s hope that I can keep it that way.

 

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Obviously the gale has swept the sky clear of every cloud and it is that point in the evening when night is ready to fall. All colours have disappeared and the trees and mountains are black shapes etched against a pale and darkening sky.

Having updated my blog I was taking a moment sitting on the terrace finishing my glass of whiskey appreciating the noise of the wind and dramatic scenery when an unending flock of birds arose from the sea behind the trees. Never have I seen so many black silhouettes which by their size and outline must have been seagulls. They just rose in a never ending mass to be swept away by the wind.

Amazing that such moments appease the soul and make one realise that life is at times a real gift and worth taking advantage of to the full.

 

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I suppose that everyone has those occasional days when they are astonished by the quantity of work they have succeeded in fitting in one ordinary working day. At the end there is a sort of satisfying exhaustion and a subtle pride even though no-one, unless they are reasonably observant, will recognise the things done.

I really deserve my glass of whisky this evening.

As peaceful and at ease with the world as I may feel at moments like this I admit that the evening would hold a completely different aspect if I could share it with someone. One makes the effort, the candles are all lit, I will cook myself a bowl of pasta in a while and soft music is playing on the radio. I am relaxed and content yet honest enough to admit that the longing to have someone there to lean on is still there in the dark corners of my emotions.

Oh well John will be staying here towards the end of the month so if we are not tasting all the best restaurants of the region every evening I might cook us up a quite meal in one night. Being completely un-romantic I know that he will complain that there is not enough light if I try to eat just by candlelight. Well we take our friends as they are.

Apart from the dogs to take care of I am determined to have tomorrow completely to myself. A little food shopping for the evening meal, stopping of in the square for a coffee and a read of the local paper followed by lunch down in Villefranche.

I can assure you all that though life may be boring and quiet it is good. A young Arab boy in my bed would make it even better but not all dreams are realisable are they.

 

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With an enormous sigh of relief I have just returned from the airport having deposed madame to wing her way to Tunisia for eight days. Spreading out ahead of me are six wonderful days of relaxation with nothing to do concerning the villa. Just myself to please.

Not quite true as I have to drive monsieur’s Mercedes into Monte Carlo for a service on Monday. But let’s be honest, I can’t really call that work can I. Especially as I will not be under pressure to dash back to work and can take the time to have lunch in front of the casino.

I have few plans apart from those extremely frivolous. I lost quite a few plants during my attempt to stop smoking so I may take a tour of the garden centres to choose some new ones.

Then there is my wardrobe to sort out, deciding which clothes it is worth saving and those that it really is time to give away. Then I have the ridiculous pleasure of deciding which clothes to wear whilst madame is absent. I intend to be incredibly chic every day; I don’t care if I am over dressed all the time as it is stupid having all these nice clothes and never wearing them.

Perhaps a trip into the mountains for lunch.

Most important of all a haircut. The first for two months.

This evening I must sort out what I want to eat and do some shopping tomorrow morning. Tonight thankfully I had a piece of duck left in the freezer so I am having that with a honey sauce.

What a relief and pleasure to finally, after a month of slavery, to have some time to myself. I intend to take full advantage of it.

 

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Well today I didn’t save the world from famine, neither did I bring eternal peace to suffering populations, nor solved the housing problem in France, but I did my bit for the world economy. Spending my ill gotten gains; as a good consumer I spent with out really counting.

As most households I generally do my food shopping in a large supermarket having planned out my menus for the week. Yet there is a certain pleasure in shopping locally and just buying the necessities for a day’s sustenance. The personal touch and friendliness of the local shopkeepers can never be found in those immense and impersonal food warehouses.

So I wandered around the local town filling my basket with the essentials for today and part of tomorrow. On entering every commerce the welcome was in excess to my purchases. I was slightly embarrassed as living alone I only need two carrots, a couple of slices of ham and one potato; a kilo, who needs a kilo of something.

So lunch consisted of some Italian ham and a tomato salad with lots of fresh basil and slices of parmesan all mixed with a balsamic vinegar dressing. Accompanied by a glass of wine whilst sitting gazing out to sea the real world seem to be somewhere hidden in the distance.

This evening I planned on trying out a dos de cabillaud (much more appetising when seen in French – who wants to eat a piece of cod?) surrounded by a cucumber and gherkin sauce.

This afternoon, as previewed, I reorganised my wardrobe which required a quick journey into Nice to buy new hangers. Seeing that the sales are in full swing I was tempted into buying things I needed but weren’t really essential. So I came away with 42 pinces à pantalons and two new white shirts.

Is it excessive for an ageing queen to have 42 pairs of trousers? Now they are all arranged according to colour in well organised splendour in their own wardrobe. Shirts have now filled the space liberated in my bedroom cupboards leaving the final empty place to receive all my jackets, some of which I had forgotten I had and certainly haven’t been worn for several years.

All this frenetic activity took place whilst the weather out side presented one of those perfect end of season days on the Côte d’Azur. I did take advantage of it in the morning and made a quick detour by the garden centre. I now have a replacement for the philodendron that grew too big for my terrace.

I wonder if I should feel guilty for such an uneventful and worthless day?

 

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Withdrawing from the world and sinking into contented solitude provides a life where problems involving others no longer seem to exist. One’s life becomes dependant on personal decisions and pleasures exist according to one’s ability to find them in simple activities. Relying on others is an inexistent aspect of life. The problem posed is whether life has become futile or does the fact that the contentment achieved makes society’s expectations null and void.

My three big decisions today were what to wear this morning, which plants to buy for my terrace and what to eat this evening.
The fact that my wardrobes are now, after reorganisation, impeccable makes it a pleasure to ruffle through my clothes choosing those I want to wear. My personal image is such that well dressed I feel much more attractive than when seeing myself naked in the mirror each morning. So how futile is this pleasure if it gives me self confidence and satisfaction when I go out into the wide world?

Now that I am smoking again my terrace has once more become my haven of peace where I retreat to reflect on life and de-stress. Subsequently being surrounded by plants contrasting in shape, size and form with each other once again becomes an essential to my pleasure in living. So how selfish is it to spend money on such frivolities if it is essential to my personal well being?

Living alone requires a routine and certain discipline. One can sit regretting a life without social contacts or one can find the simple pleasures in rustling up a perfect meal. Is it strange to sit in lonely splendour eating by candle light with a glass of wine at hand?

So I finished of my bottle of red wine whilst cooking a veal steak in a mustard and cream sauce.

How many of us take the time out of our busy lives to deal with the problems of others? When does selfishness become a sin in that by spending one’s time providing for personal happiness one is incapable of improving the lives of others less fortunate?

If I do nothing to help my fellow man is my life worthless? Am I an unessential member of society?

Life is just so agreeable at present, not having to think about work just having my own pleasures to think about.

 

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Impossible to make my bed today. Last night the cat nested in the middle of the covers and hasn’t moved since. How can an animal sleep for so many hours? I am maniac enough to hate seeing the bed unmade all day yet compassionate enough to leave him tranquil.

The spell of wonderful weather continues. Just sufficiently warm to allow me to wear a jacket. Mind you the rest of the population is still walking around in shorts and tee-shirts.

For the first time in my life I was refused a table in a restaurant. Seeing that the terrace was not even half occupied I presume that it was because I was on my own and financially he preferred having two people at each table. Not being one to create a scene I left, never to return. Unfortunately it was one of my favourite places for lunch in town.

Since having redone my terrace it is now as close to a tropical forest as I could hope. I have had to admit that there is no longer any space for other plants as much as I might be longing for them. Access is now by walking sideways and gently brushing away the overhang fronds.

The new tram way in Nice is incredible. I am slowly getting into the habit of parking outside and catching it to get into the centre. Naturally the abundance of attractive young men using it plays absolutely no part in my decision.

I adore my kitchen. It may only be 6 sq metres but is so perfect that it makes cooking a total pleasure. It is the sort where you stand in the middle and just spin round on the spot to reach everything. I made a Mexican bolognaise this evening, sufficient to freeze a portion for a subsequent evening. I do like recipes where the first thing you have to do is open a bottle of red wine.

I need to start getting back into work mode as madame returns on Thursday.

 

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When life is pleasurable and smooth running does one no longer feel the need to put pen to paper? Is it only when pain and problems are the dominant feature of life that one is stimulated to an outpouring of the soul?

Obviously if this is true it explains why my updates are so far and few in-between at present.

The weather has been perfect.

Since the departure of madame I have tackled my flat and it is now impeccable.

My terrace is a green jungle.
I have friends arriving at the airport this evening and after picking them up we will take pot luck at a restaurant in the port.

I must stop off to check the menu and prices of a new restaurant that I would like to take them to just to see if I can afford it.

I only wish the many of you struggling with life at the moment could share the peace and calm that can be achieved when you accept your limitations and what life is willing to offer you.

 

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Time does fly! The return of madame at the beginning of the month coincided with the hospitalisation of the cook. As much as I like cooking doing it for madame is one of the most anxiety provoking aspects of my job. Plus the fact I never know at what time they will sit down to eat adding both to the stress factor and difficulty in producing a perfectly cooked meal. Still I coped and actually managed to produce a few exceptional desserts. But I can assure you that attempting to keep everything going smoothly on your own means you can forget about any private time or personal life.

Subsequently my holiday preparations were left to the last minute and I just had time to pack before taking myself off to England for the last 10 days.

I had a wonderful time despite the bitter cold. One forgets that. One forgets that a second daily shower is an ordeal as it requires undressing and suffering that excruciating moment of freezing until you throw yourself under the hot water. How that moment of getting out of bed in the morning is prolonged as long as possible so as not to endure the suffering cold before layers of clothes warm you up once again.

Naturally I have returned with a heavy cold and accompanying that with the cabin pressurisation on the plane I am still waiting for my ears to pop and regain my hearing. I feel as if I am walking around underwater with every sound being muted.

Incredibly good restaurants, wonderful company and time to appreciate everything made the time I spent out of London seem unending. It really is a pleasure to be with real friends where you just pick up from the last time you were together, where there are no awkward silences and everyone is at ease and content to be together again.

My two days in London were exactly how I wanted them to be. I shared lunch at the V&A museum with a friend followed by a few hours visiting the Francis Bacon retrospective. Amazingly as we progressed around I realised that I was actually appreciating seeing his works; liking them is not the right description but they certainly are impressive and evoke strong emotions which is probably the main reason for anyone to paint.

The second day I had planned a personal tour of the Tate viewing my favourite paintings; the Tate evokes piles of bricks masquerading as art leading one to forget it has hundreds of wonders from British painters dating from 1500. Impossible to choose a preferred work of art but I spent a long time stuck in front of Sutherland’s “Somerset Maugham”.

I lunched in the museum restaurant and paid an exorbitant price for the pleasure of doing so. But with the final glass of wine accompanying my treacle tart and clotted cream I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

This restaurant is one of the first I ever ate in when just in my early 20s I started on the road of meeting older and richer homosexuals ready to educate me into a way of life I didn’t know existed. So apart from the gastronomically perfect meal it brought back many memories as most of those men are now dead and became quite an emotional moment in time.

The evening finished of the day with a trip to see “Wicked” on the London stage. I wouldn’t consider the songs very memorable but they were sung with real emotion, the sets and costumes were incredible and the story line so cleverly intertwined with the “Wizard of Oz”. I left the theatre buoyed up and smiling like an idiot.

Many off you may find my life obscene with the current crisis causing so much hardship. I must admit that I am sheltered from such problems and life continues as it always has. I hope you all find pleasure in something even if it is only the simple things such as friendship and the beauty of life around you.

 

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Well after the excitement and enjoyment of the holidays it is the return to the mundane routine where washing, ironing and cleaning become the obligations of the day. The cat managed to be sick on all the furniture without leaving a single trace on the easily cleaned tiled flooring. It is also time to organise appointments; eyes to be examined, the dentist to suffer, a chest x-ray and the courage to find to face my doctor as a failed ex-smoker.

As usual after all my long absences the cat is demanding an extraordinary amount of affection, following me everywhere tangling himself around my ankles. Even as I type he is seated royally on my thighs deciding whether to bite my fingers as they move across the keyboard.

Though this break in England was exceptional and one I enjoyed enormously I must admit I am happy to be back home slipping back into my solitary, comfortable life. It is certain less miserable having a heavy cold here in the South of France than in the bitter British winter. Strangely sharing ten days with the company of my closest friends was sufficient to show that though I may have metamorphosed into a solitary hermit I am still capable of relating to people.

Weird that one can appreciate company and be pleased to share one’s life with them yet in the final count it is my solitude that brings comfort and peace of mind.

One result of my holiday experiences is that it is evident that I must make some changes in my way of letting life drift by with no real aims. Perhaps not make changes but rather return to some semblance of the life I used to have. There is no reason why I shouldn’t make the effort to keep in contact with people on a more regular basis. My life may lack interest but even so having nothing to say is not a reason for not making an effort. Nor are there any reasons why I don’t once again start to do all the things I used to enjoy.

Time to make a few resolutions rather than leaving them until the New Year.

 

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Suddenly the temperature has dropped and it feels almost as cold as it did in London. So apart from combining getting my eyes tested and a little shopping my trip into Nice was as short as I could make it. Now the curtains are drawn shutting out the night and I have a beef in red wine simmering gently in the kitchen. The smell has wafted throughout the flat creating that wonderful winter atmosphere when you are snuggled down warm inside whilst outside night falls.
The bad news is that my long sight is now deteriorating and I shall be obliged to wear glasses for driving as well as reading. I have just brought four pairs; two reading, one for downstairs and one for upstairs (work) and two for driving, one ordinary and the other sunglasses. Living here in the South of France I thought that essential but am wondering when I am ever going to see the sun again. Obviously that has cleared out my savings account but at least I have done my little bit for the French economy.

Returning from holiday it was obvious that the two dogs had been left to fend for themselves for the whole ten days of my absence. Now since the death of Verone, the Great Dane, I have been being controlling myself to prevent getting too attached to them. I have been treating them as part of my job, they get fed, their health is assured and when I have the time they get walked around the garden.

But that assumes that their owners are giving them some attention and unfortunately that is not the case. So finally I have capitulated and now find myself responsible for two dogs as well as the cat. I am having to give up my daily exercise and started taking them out for a walk instead. At least now once a day they will have someone relating to them.

It was the first time outside the boundaries of the property today so I made it a short practice walk. There was a real mixture of fear and excitement in their behaviour. I have held off up to now as I knew once I started it was going to be a permanent feature of my life. So rain or shine, working or on holiday one will now see daily a tall elderly man being dragged along by two over eager dogs.

 

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Well I have just spent the last three days of my holidays cleaning my flat from top to bottom. Perhaps it was a waste of precious time but I am incapable of living in a place if I don’t think it is clean. And now I have the pleasure of sitting back and admiring my work.

I am certain most people clean but I wonder how many move all the furniture, wash and wipe every surface, polish the parquet and floors, empty all the cupboards and clean the shelves and ensure that when all the furniture is back in place that all the ornaments and knickknacks are spotless?

Now that is done I shall be attacking the villa tomorrow. I must be the highest paid cleaning lady in the world!

The cook is still hospitalized so I have to cope with the cooking once again. All I can say is that there is no way that I can assume the cooking for all the family at Christmas and New Year. Looks as if we will have to frantically search for a temp unless madame decides not to spend Christmas here. That would be something helpful to know seeing that it is approaching fast and I have yet to start preparing for decorating the place.

I still have a few evenings to myself before madame returns on Tuesday next week. Tonight I am collapsing in front of the television to watch “Vanilla Sky” with Tom Cruise. I have no desire to cook so it will be a bolognaise from the freezer for this evening.

 

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We are having some of the foulest weather that I have experienced since I moved to the South of France. Torrential rain nearly every day accompanied by terrific storms. Today we even suffered several hail storms and the temperature has dropped incredibly.

I have discovered why my cat keeps jumping into the bath and hiding behind the shower curtain – he is using it to urinate. You have to bless him for not doing it on the rugs. With the foul weather and his fear of the two dogs it seems he is no longer leaving the terrace and subsequently has no place to do his daily business. What does worry me is will I be finding dried cat’s turds hidden behind the settee. Looks as if I will have to buy him a litter tray tomorrow.

I am really enjoying my new routine that it will be a shame when madame returns on Tuesday and I loose my evenings. Walking and feeding the dogs at 4hr leaves me free to be home by 5hr. A shower and a change of clothes and I have the whole evening stretching in front of me. Time to prepare an evening meal (Sea Bass cooked in the oven tonight), spend some time on the computer and relax.

December is going to be a difficult month financially. I had hefty bills to pay on two of the flats which meant that my loan repayments are coming out of my salary this month. So there will be nothing special for Christmas this year. Of course if madame spends the festive season here I shall not have any time and therefore no need to spend any money celebrating noel.

I did bring back a Christmas cake and four puddings from London so some traditions will be kept.

 

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Finally a day without torrential rain. Mind you as complaining about the weather is a trait of the British I might add that we had gale force winds which rather spoiled the sunny day. I did wake up to find the mountains behind Nice capped with snow, a good sign that the temperature is going to be pretty low.

I am savouring my final evening on my own. It is kind of pleasant to finish a day’s work knowing that you have completed everything planned; then after a shower leaving you feeling healthy and clean pouring a whisky knowing that you can potter around doing what you want for the rest of the time before collapsing into bed.

Though I do still have my menus to plan and the shopping list to write out. There is still the wine book to update and print and I have some ironing to do so even without madame’s presence my life seems slightly banal and boring.

We can fantasize about all and everything, being rich, having a multitude of friends and a young Arab awaiting our pleasure in bed but finally isn’t the important thing whether you are content with life or not and satisfied with your daily routine?

By the way isn’t buying food for one person difficult? You want to eat duck one evening and find that duck breasts are only sold by units of two. Thank goodness for freezers!

 

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I finally crawled down to my apartment at 18hr after running madame to the airport (she is off to Tunisia, I think to buy property) and ferrying the two Mercedes to the garage for their technical controls.

In sequence I opened a bottle of wine (always do the important things first), threw a chicken in the oven and prepared vegetables, stuffed a load of white shirts into the washing machine and finally took a shower. If I was younger I suppose I would have rushed around getting ready to go out clubbing seeing that it is Friday evening. Seems I am going to be spending another quiet evening at home on my own. I am really getting used to it.

Madame returns Monday and then disappears again on Thursday so my responsibility in the kitchen is not too hard to bear. Mind you she doesn’t seem exactly anxious about finding a replacement chef. Perhaps because my meals are acceptable and she is not suffering from the cook’s absence. Possibly I am my own worst enemy and should commence producing a few inedible meals!
It is blowing an absolute gale outside and freezing cold. Much too cold to sit on the terrace smoking a cigarette. I find myself sitting in my miniscule kitchen underneath the extractor fan to get my dose of nicotine.

I should take advantage of these few free evenings and take myself to the cinema as I am missing quite a few films I would like to see. But I am not certain that I can find the courage to venture out on such a night.

Oh well there is always an evening of JUB.