Go out into the darkness…

So heart be still:
What need our little life
Our human life to know,
If God hath comprehension?
In all the dizzy strife
Of things both high and low,
God hideth His intention.

God knows. His will
Is best. The stretch of years
Which wind ahead, so dim
To our imperfect vision,
Are clear to God. Our fears
Are premature; In Him,
All time hath full provision.

Then rest: until
God moves to lift the veil
From our impatient eyes,
When, as the sweeter features
Of Life’s stern face we hail,
Fair beyond all surmise
God’s thought around His creatures
Our mind shall fill.


I’m sorry, but I’m cheating today, and pasting in my post from Fat Dormouse Getting Thinner (sans menu plans) I haven’t felt much like blogging recently, but am aware that I have readers who do read my posts and comment too, so I feel bad when I don’t blog. So I do apologise for the fact I haven’t posted in weeks.

Last weekend I spent Saturday cleaning (because, after all, if I notice it needs cleaning then it really needs cleaning! And I noticed!) and Sunday preparing for a lesson. I have a new student, 3 hours a week, high level, who is a “Yellow Belt” trainer for Six Sigma change management. Well, this meant nothing to me so I had to do some research and plan quite meticulously. I was really worried, but Pascale was delightful and the lesson was fine  – despite my being 20 minutes late as I hadn’t factored in enough time to allow for traffic caused by the closure of the motorway for roadworks.

This weekend I had to write reports on a course that’s ending tomorrow, and bake flapjack for my students (typical British biscuit) I also made a cake to take to the Church barbecue which I have just got back from. It was a delicious cake – here is the recipe – although I made it with peaches and raspberries in place of strawberries. We held an open air Eucharist service (watched by a couple of curious French people) on the summit of the Plateau de Gergovie. Although it started overcast with some spits and spots of rain, the weather brightened up beautifully.


Father Rob strumming his mandolin before the service – you can see the wonderful view that we had – and the slightly iffy weather!


but the sun came out for the barbecue and picnic afterwards.

Happily (for Mr FD, who, on sampling a piece, announced it was too good for church (!) ) everyone pigged out on meat and salad and crisps, so puddings weren’t very popular. I brought most of the cake back home and have stowed it in the freezer to keep Mr FD happy while I’m in the UK

Yes, even after two years where I ended up in tears because I struggled to control the brats dear little children I’m going back for more. I’m working with Lines Summer School in Newbury. This year I know I’m working with the Kids programme (6 – 9 year olds) so I’m feeling more confident about that!

I’m leaving next Tuesday (1st July) but I don’t know how long my contract will be for – it depends on how many children there will be…no problem. I know that I’m returning back to France on 18th August after my Goddaughter’s wedding, so I just have to fill the time up between my teaching time and the wedding…it might be three, two or one week!
I hope that this year will be the year when everything goes swimmingly, I don’t end up weeping and I’m glad that I went (and not just because of the dosh!) Last year the first two weeks were awful (older children, couldn’t control them) and the last two weeks were great (Kids department. No tears. Felt I did a good job. Loved the guy who is the Head of Department.) This year I’m starting with the Kids so fingers crossed…

And here’s a story just for my lovely readers over on this blog – a special View From the Teapot extra, if you like! Last Sunday Mr FD and I went out for a walk in the cool of the evening (whoever was playing in the World Cup that evening didn’t float Mr FD’s boat) Up above the village we went, and on the way passed a field of cows who were very interested in us. When we passed by on our way back it was most bizarre: it was as though we were playing “Grandmother’s Footsteps”. When we passed they stood still, watching us, but not moving. As we continued, we heard a rustling and a thumping of hooves. We turned – they all stood still. We continued…they followed. We turned – motionless cows!

Sadly neither of us had a phone camera with us, so we were unable to take a photo, but I can tell you that the cow with tag 1959 was the one that moved first!

So, dear readers, don’t be disheartened if there are no posts for a couple of months…I may find time to pop in and comment during my time away, but I may not. However, I do appreciate you all, and your comments, so please, don’t forget me  and come back to find me in September.


Me, looking windswept on a walk. Somewhere. No idea where.  

George the Adventurer


George is a no trouble cat- Millie is a bit of a Diva, who chases Bib; Bib is a bit small-and-bitey – she shows affection by gnawing on the hand that feeds her; Pomme is prone to wolfing her food and then projectile vomiting. George is no trouble…except he has a bit of an adventurous streak in him…


Mr D left a velux open last night – it’s above the stairwell so he thought that no cats could escape that way. He thought wrongly! George obviously heard the call of the wild last night and made the leap from banister to velux and got onto the roof. From there we are not sure what happened, but this morning Mr D heard him crying from the roof of the Collège next door.


He was on the flat roof between the main part of the school and our house. At two-and-a-half stories up we didn’t have a ladder long enough to reach him.(Our house is on the right, the Collège on the left)


We tried holding our ladder from the balcony to the roof, but he wasn’t going to try that, thank you very much! We were unwilling to phone the Sapeurs Pompiers, so I drove down to the Casèrne (The Fire Station) to see if there was anyone there, but no. Being a volunteer force, it is only “scrambled” when there’s an emergency call, which this wasn’t really. When I got back, Mr D was preparing to climb onto the roof to see if he could get down to George that way…but luckily, as I was coming into the house, I caught sight of the big garden parasol, which was propped in the corner. A couple of minutes more and I realised that this was quite a sturdy thing for George to walk along, rather than a ladder.


We leant out of my study window, with Mr D taking most of the weight of the parasol and me leaning on the end to act as a counter balance. George was along it in a flash and in through the window. He had a scrape on his nose and a pair of grubby front paws but other than that seemed unharmed by the experience…


…except he’s a bit tired!