home – Widow plus woofs

It may surprise you to learn that, despite a childhood living all over the globe and my decision to move my entire life here, I’m not much of a traveller and have yet to see much of much of my adopted homeland. France is big country for a start and then there’s the not so small issue of having 7 woofers to take care of so any chance of someone minding them so you can have a short getaway is one not to be sniffed at. And as it was Denis’ birthday on Thursday, an invitation to spend a couple of days with Denis’ sister Patricia and her other half at his place wasn’t going to be turned down so off we went. Actually, we didn’t have to go that far – Olivier’s house only being 45 minutes or so down the autoroute towards Toulouse but you could be forgiven for thinking otherwise such was the change in landscape – nothing but fields around and lush green woodland to breathe in and enjoy. Apart from the wind, a lot of it and very gusty.

That being said, much of the horizon was familiar. Down here we are blessed with the views of the Pyrénées, the Corbières and the Montagne Noire mountain ranges although you don’t often get to see them all in the same panorama. But it wasn’t just about the scenery, being able to spend time as a couple with another couple and not extra family additions so to speak was a first for us and our hosts made sure we got the best out of it. Having plonked our stuff bedroom -side and stuffed ourselves silly over a delicious tagine (Denis’ speciality), we drove over to a nearby lake to stroll around and work off a few calories in the process. The reservoir that is Lac de la Thésauque is huge and surrounded by a stunning nature walk some 6 kilometres in total – perfect for for pootling around although it is advisable not to decide to wear the new boots you bought at a steal in the local recycling shop the day before unless you have a penchant for rubbed raw heels. Thankfully, after a night of talking into the wee hours over several bottles of wine (mine a very nice alcohol free Sauvignon Blanc you will be pleased to hear), the weather was warm enough the following morning for me to don my favourite footwear in the name of flip-flops for a more comfortable outing to a local market and a bit of sight-seeing in ancient chateaux style. Alas, as always happens, the visit passed all too quickly and goodbye hugs and kisses done, we were back in Rouffiac. Home.

It’s a funny thing, going away. As much as it does the soul good to have a change in scenery, there is a part of me that is relieved to be back in the familiar and with my woofers. They drive me crazy at times but I’d not be without them and their delirious homecoming greeting. Mind you, I can’t blame them for their frenetic fussing as I thought leaving them with nephew Louis for one night wouldn’t hurt – hah. I came back to what can only be described as a hovel. Despite my what I thought was a simple to do list, Mo’s nappy hadn’t been changed and their water bowls empty. Let’s not get started with the state of the outdoor terrace but it goes without saying, me and the mop bucket passed an hour or so together before I’d had a chance to unpack and the dog washing machine was on the hot cycle in a blink. Still, all that being done and beds changed, an evening spent chilling out under the stars with very happy hounds couldn’t have made for a better ending to a very nice mini stay-away, not least because it was our girl Alice’s 9th birthday yesterday. And whilst being a dog and therefore not one to count the years, I can’t help wondering what the little Border terrier that I bought for Tony as a 25th wedding anniversary present and one who became the most dutiful mother to 6 gorgeous pups including our Sherman, would think about the adventures she’s been on. Yes, it’s nice to get away and enjoy a different perspective every once in a while but these feet like having fur under them…

“Home, the spot of earth supremely blest, a dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.”( Robert Montgomery)

I woke up this morning feeling oddly unsettled. Probably last week’s fault – it didn’t start well, got better in the middle and a bit flat at the end. It didn’t help that I asked Monsieur le Max chauffagiste extraodinaire to turn off the heating as the main house lay mostly void of human life and then the weather suddenly went arctic yesterday. And let’s not get into a conversation about the bloody pool; naturally it decided to spring a leak in one of the skimmer pipes. I had warned Denis that I thought there was a problem which he insisted there wasn’t so I made him crawl under the deck and yup, a massive crack in the tubing. He was lucky not to have felt the force of my ire although I stroppily refused to go to his annual Easter Monday family lunch.

Actually, opting out of Denis’ do wasn’t such a bad decision as nephew Louis returned to join his brother Maxime here for a few days so I got thoroughly spoilt by the two of them. Fabulous meals and much hilarity over the dining table. Both left mid-week to spend a bit of time with their mum in the Savoie taking Mumo’s dog Sappy along for the ride. She’s Louis’ canine companion now and I can’t say I’ll miss her especially as she left a number of smelly deposits on the piano carpet in her wake. I shall take her owner to task when he returns mid-May.

Aah, May. Just round the corner with, according to the météo man, sunshine. It may sound sexist to refer to such a person as male but he is almost always wrong – I state my case. Mind you, Mother Nature (definitely female as she can put her mind to anything) seems to be delighted with the wacky weather; things are flowering which never flowered before. Mumo’s courtyard is overflowing with colour and the irises she planted which never did much are now blooming yellow. As much as it’s beautiful to look at, you can’t helping feeling a little melancholy that she isn’t here to enjoy the view.

As I mentioned, the main house was left empty once the boys went, save this weekend when brother Simon and wife Alba popped over. On the plus side, the woofers and I had the entire property to ourselves although they aren’t allowed in the big bit as Sherman is likely to leave a few messages up the furniture but it did mean I could leave the inside gates open and the courtyard door. The latter was a necessity as I’d noticed rat droppings in the garage so I unleashed the hunter that is Alice to do her thing. Yet, apart from running up and down the stairs with the duster and lighting the fire as it warms the apartment upstairs, I barely set foot in the family home – it doesn’t feel much like a home when there’s nobody in it. Probably another reason for the oddly unsettled feeling. And for the next couple of weeks, I’ll be toute seule once more although hopefully in shorts and flip flops which will no doubt improve the mood. It does beg the question however as to what the future holds for this place. And the widow plus woofers…

“Life’s under no obligation to give us what we expect” (Margaret Mitchell)