This is the new addition to the farm. I now have three cows and one hippo and they never need feeding. This is the artwork of Mol entitled 'Have I got Mooos for You'. I'll post Imogen's artwork cow when I get a photo of it. Aren't I lucky - no mess, no fuss - but then, no milk.
So that's the work I've been doing in between the massive gap filled with disappointment. Those days are over. I'm brilliant at emulsion - give me a 15 litre tin and a brush and the french station sponsored by E.Leclerc where we have '30 minutes de musique sans interruptions' and I'm away. Interesting how the music must be on loops because the same tunes play at the same times every day which leaves me to believe it's shove in a CD and off the studio manager goes for lunch probably.
PS - the blue van in the pix is the 'blue bomber' owned by Rick and Mol - and previously by Rick and Dave. It served them faithfully for 16 years, and it was a decade old when they got it. It's on loan. My status in the village rocketed when I arrived in that. Up until then the village thought I was really rich, always turning up in a new car (a hire car). Now they refer to the English Rolls Royce and can't believe anyone with any sense would be driving such a vehicle. It has character and a gear stick with a mind of its own. But I love it.
Well I gave up updating on my life in France because there wasn't any. My friends got sick of me moaning about 'can't sell the Manchester flat, credit crunch and Monsieur Larressat's bill being short of euros 28,000 - and thinking that it's back to work until I drop dead. I found a new job, and lived for two months on vouchers for £1.99 meal deals in Macdonalds, dossing in a friend's house, travelling on buses with my OAP pass because I got rid of the car, the gym, everything as money savers.
Then - out of the blue - last week I get called into a room at work. "This is Brian from legal, Susan from Personnel, Amanda your line manager and you know me of course". I thought I was going to die from guilt, finally rumbled. All those paper clips, pads, biros stolen and skiving off to go to the cinema over my entire working life, even if it was with another employer.
We want to offer you severance they proffered - but you have to go before the end of November and take all your annual leave. The offer was exactly what I owe Monsieur Larressat. So I packed up my pencils, stole a few more biros, and left.
So it's France here I come at last. Stand by. I arrive December 30th and will herald in the new year with new friends, new life, new hopes and OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE.
Still, I'll give it a good go.
En avant.
