I'm back

I can't believe it is ten days since I last posted a blog, which means another ten days has gone by and it still feels as if there is tons of work to do. It seems as far away from being completed as it ever was.

No, that's not true actually. That is a bit of a negative take on things which isn't really like me. I am usually optimistic. The glass is half full and it will be alright when it's painted - that's me. But there's been a lot of negativity in the air round here lately and I've felt myself being dragged down into it.

It's difficult to describe without offending people but what use would this blog be if it wasn't honest to the realities of my life here in the Languedoc. So, will everyone stop telling me how to organise things and how to live my life, especially when my life is more sorted than theirs and please stop the hypocrisy and absolutely stop the racism and general doom and gloom. There - I've said it now. That covers several people in one sentence without naming any names or being too offensive I hope.

One person who has been absolutely most fabulous lately is my wife. I feel as close to her as I have ever done and I think she feels the same, which is incredible and wonderful and probably making you all sick. Hey, it's a good thing so don't you dare criticise. The problem is we are spending too much time apart from each other because of this strange double London/Languedoc life we lead. When we bought this apartment the plan was to be in London together and here together, not one here and one there. It's gone a bit pear shaped somewhere so I need to devise a plan to get us in the same country at the same time. For all the wonders of modern communications, there is nothing better than being in the same space and within touching distance.

It has been a big family week. My parents came down to visit for the first time. It might seem strange that they haven't visited before when we have had this place for over two years now. However, sadly, my father is mostly confined to a wheelchair and that makes life for him, and my mother, very difficult - and a first floor apartment that has been a building site for two years is not ideal. In fact, I'm not sure there is anywhere or anything that is ideal for them anymore which is a very sad and sobering thought. The wonderful and expensive hotel they stayed in turned out to have steps down to the room and gravel driveways are not wheelchair friendly. Very few places are - aeroplanes aren't, cars aren't and medieval castles aren't. My fathers wheelchair is very very heavy to push or to lift in and out of a car. I am amazed, and concerned, about how my mother copes with it all.

My hard working and faithful Audi/builders van absolutely could not have coped, so I hired a car for a few days to ferry my parents around and get them too and from the airport in Toulouse. The big Renault Scenic was ideal for the job but not so ideal for the archway under the apartment. It just, with wing mirrors pulled in, which makes reversing even harder, got through but then it had no room to manouevre once there. Ever the opportunist, I made full use of the Scenic's much greater load capacity by collecting the extra porcelain tiles that had been ordered for the apartment bathroom and kitchen and, after dropping my parents back at Toulouse airport, I hot-footed it to Ikea and bought back all the kitchen units for both the apartment and studio. After unloading all the flat packs all that remained to do was to take the hire car back. I am still not sure how and I am still really cross with myself, but after squeezing the Scenic back through the arch for one last time I crunched it against one of the many metal bollards that line the streets here in the bastide town - aaaahhhhhh! There wasn't much damage but there will be damage to my wallet that I could do without. I still can't quite believe it happened - especially as I was saying to myself "just one more time through the arch - be silly to scratch it now - doh!"

The other family event of the week was my youngest daughter's seventeenth birthday. I sent her a text message (actually I sent it to my wife first, who was a bit surprised as her birthday is in August). When I finally sent it to the right person, I got a reply which said "thankyou - I don't mean to be rude, but who are you?". That's great isn't it. My own daughter doesn't even have my mobile phone number on her phone so didn't know it was a message from her dad. Charming.

Mind you, with the week I've had (car scrapes and brain fades), I'm not in a position to have a go at anyone else. Let's hope I keep it all together this week - you'll be the first to know if I don't.