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Archive for the ‘Piglet’s Comedy Club’ Category

Oh my! Vivement that the next 6/7 weeks go by quickly and without any major hiccups as I’m truly beginning to wonder whether I’m going to make it to the end of my pregnancy without disaster and whether I should wrap myself up in cotton wool and stay sat on the sofa all day…

After the “bathroom incident” at les Beaux Parents, I’ve had a couple more incidents including nearly falling down a ditch in front of their house whilst driving at 5 kmh (I have no idea where I was looking) and having the removal men take away all my underwear meaning that I had nothing left for the time we are in limbo (okay so it was a good excuse to go shopping!).

But yesterday I nearly made 4 people, 4 cats, 1 dog and a tortoise homeless when I came very close to burning the in-laws house down.

I was off to meet the lovely Mummy in Provence and little Baby in Provence in nearby Orange for lunch and wanted to look presentable so decided to iron my clothes as a normal person would. Except it wasn’t my iron and after fathoming out how the wretched thing worked, I turned it on and left it to heat up, thinking that I’d make the most of it and iron a few of Mr Piglet’s work shirts whilst I was at it.

I entered the absorbing world of internet for all of about 10 minutes and forgot about the iron until I smelt burning. Horror of horrors! The iron had melted and was working its way through the electric cables! Minutes later and I would have been dealing with a fire! A fire in a wooden house!

Ruined Iron

So now I need to buy a new iron but the MiL isn’t having any of it. She just laughed it off but I am so embarrassed. These poor people must be fed up of me and my accidents already and I’ve only been here for two weeks! By my calculations I’ve got at least another 4 weeks before we move into our new house, I’m just going to have to try really, really hard not to break anything else… I’m using the tumble dryer for the first time this am so wish me luck!

The rest of the day went thankfully without major incident and I had a lovely time with Mummy in Provence and BiP picking up lots of helpful tips on baby care and equipment! I hear BiP is ill today though so I hope she gets better soon! It truly is a pleasure for me to stay in Provence at the moment and hopefully the in-laws will let me come back to visit again once we move out so that I can continue meeting all the great people I’ve met recently.

I did get totally lost driving back from Orange though but it wasn’t all negative. I managed to take a lovely snap of the nearby village to where we’re staying. When I saw it, I thought of Sara in Le Petit Village as it’s just how I imagine Le Petit Village to be…

Le Petit Village near where I'm staying...

One last thing, I’ve finally set up a Facebook page… If you’re on Facebook do drop by and say hello – here it is…

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So here I am in rural Provence, two days after leaving the Lyon flat in the hands of the removal men and I’m already realising that living in the country is going to take some getting used to…

We’re staying with Mr Piglet’s parents for a month until we can complete on the new place and I’m already considering it as a test run, a kind of practice for real life living in the country.

Right now though it feels like I’m in some kind of reality TV show.

This morning, I was home alone and settling in for a nice, relaxing day of doing nothing. The prospect of doing nothing seemed like heaven after months of property hunting and weeks of box packing. But today someone, somewhere had decided that my day was going to be anything but relaxing…

After I had finished pampering myself I went to open the bathroom door as my cats were scratching it, only to have the door handle come off in my hand ! « No panic » I thought, « I just need to pop it back on and Bob’s Your Uncle ! ». After a considerable time trying to get the handle back on, I realised that there was no way I was going to succeed, however hard I tried.

Not willing to admit defeat I looked around me considering my surroundings. “Great” I thought, “I can squeeze through that window and get back into the house through the front door or patio doors”. Not an ideal solution at 7 months pregnant but a solution all the same! The Beaux-Parents never lock the house so this solution seemed ideal. But then I realised I had locked all of the house before locking myself in the bathroom as I was scared someone would walk in off the street… There is no street here , this is rural countryside with the closest shops 20 minutes away ! It began to dawn on me that I was stuck in the bathroom, wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a pair of crocs with only the window as means of escape and no where to escape to.

Like a light bulb going off in my head I remembered I had my mobile with me. Excitedly I looked to dial my Beaux-Parents to come and rescue me but alas, it is a brand new phone and I hadn’t uploaded any of my contacts yet. I’d been more interested in using it to chat on twitter and facebook than to make calls ! Instead, I called Mr Piglet only to be greeted by an automatic SFR message saying that his number was unobtainable. What the hell ? So, in desperation I texted him, hoping that my message would get through and that he would pick up my message sooner rather than later.

As luck would have it (and thanks to our psychic connexion) he got my message straightaway and called me to make sure I wasn’t just having a pregnant brain moment (yes, I have lots of these) and when he was satisfied that I was really stuck he called his Dad, summoning him to the rescue.

A little while later I heard a car pull up on the gravel outside and voices that weren’t those of the Beaux-Parents. Curious and anxious for help (and at that stage for the loo), I climbed out of the window to investigate. It was the cleaner and gardener ! I didn’t even know they were coming ! What they thought of being greeted by a rambling, pregnant English woman in a bathrobe climbing out of a window I will never know, I think I have certainly provided something for the locals to talk about. Regardless, I discovered with relief that the man had a tool box with him and we all climbed back into the bathroom to take refuge from the cold whilst he worked on the door.

Freedom ! After some handy work with pliers and other tools I cannot name, the door swung open and we were liberated, just as my Beau-Pere arrived ! I cried and mascara ran all down my face, never had it felt so good to be free, just like a damsel in distress that has been saved.

Now I will be sure to keep at least one door unlocked at all times, not to lock myself in the bathroom, keep my mobile phone on me at all times and load my contacts into it by the end of today.

Can you think of anymore « safety tips » for country living ?

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One of the loving things about speaking a foreign language is the endless amusement that making a faux pas can provide.

I heard a fabulous language Faux Pas the other day and I have been chuckling ever since so I thought I would share it with you all here!

A business colleague of mine whose grasp of the French language is somewhat limited to ordering in French restaurants, wanted to congratulate an important French person on his achievements.

Extremely seriously, the English bloke held out his hand for a hand shake, grasped the French guys hand and said “Bien cuit Monsieur, Bien cuit”.

The solemn atmosphere soon descended into guffaws all around, as the French guy looked at the English bloke as if he was mad, obviously not understanding what Bien Cuit means for the average Brit. For those that were aware of what they’re asking for when they say Bien Cuit, there was no end of stifled giggles!

ps. Just in case you’re not a francophile, asking for your steak “Bien Cuit” in a French restaurant means asking it to be well done. In French however it means well cooked.

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Photo Credit: Petra Röder, Photo Express

I’ve been feeling a bit depressed about my weight recently and have been completely unable to shift the excess kilos. Any efforts at dieting have been short-lived and resulted in adding to my surplus rather than reducing it. My ludicrous attempts to loose 10 kilos in 10 weeks (see this post) were quickly thwarted by life, and I actually managed to put on 5 kilos along the way!

I have tried to take some steps to loosing weight in the recent weeks. I used to be a dancer. It doesn’t seem like an eternity ago but it must have been, as after a 40 minute drive across town to a dance studio I’d found on the internet I was bitterly disappointed.

As I walked in I realized the receptionist and all the dancers loitering around were about 18 and made me look ancient. They all looked like extras from Pineapple Dance Studios, and I looked just like Louis – the old one (if you don’t know about Pineapple then have a look at some of these videos, they’re a scream!Pineapple Dance Studios on YouTube).

The receptionist showing me around asked how many years ago it had been since I had danced. Note: Not just how long ago, but how many years ago… She kindly advised that their lessons were not really for beginners (she obviously didn’t believe that I had once danced professionally, albeit on ice!) and invited me to attend an open day if I wanted to try… it was a nice let down but I’m a very busy lady and 40 minutes drive across town is just too far and too much time in the car to reflect on the fact that I can no longer move as I once did.

MC Hammer Pants

Things came to a head on my holiday in Portugal when I was forced to wear MC Hammer style pants under dresses, as my dresses had turned themselves into tunics and had become indecent to wear in public. The MCH pants were actually supposed to have been tracksuit bottoms (but are actually harem pants or so I’m told) which I was expecting to wear elegantly with high heels. Not so.

Determined to look better, get fit and loose weight without being so strict that I set myself up for failure as I did last time. So, last Monday I set myself a target of loosing 4 kilos in 4 weeks before my next trip. To celebrate the setting of a realistic target, Hubby and I order Pizza Domino one final time and then weighed ourselves the next morning, hopefully being at our heaviest.

Not just content to do a gentle diet, I decided to embark on a keep fit routine as well and this, my dear readers, in where things started to unravel at an alarming rate.

Tuesday night: 30 minutes on the cross trainer followed by floor exercises and weights. At some point the blood circulation in my feet was cut off (my feet are too fat for my trainers?) and I lost all sensation in my toes! Manically rubbed my feet after and eventually all feeling came back. Great! This might just work, or so I thought.

Wednesday night: Time to add some diversity to my routine. If you’ve bought a packet of Fitness cereal recently (yes, this is how serious I am, even my breakfast cereal is called Fitness!) you would’ve received a free Les Mills DVD; Either Body Balance or Body Pump. I’d managed to eat my way through two boxes so had both DVD’s. I’d heard great things about these DVD’s so aching all over from the day before (don’t laugh, because I couldn’t so much my abdominal muscles hurt), I motivated myself to get stuck in and popped the Body Balance on in the machine.

Piglet’s Comedy Club

Setting: Living room, yoga mat on floor, television playing fitness DVD, a mixture of Yoga and Pilates.

Character: Piglet, dressed in holey tracksuit, bare feet (trainers too tight) and looking motivated. Spare tyre round middle held in place by too tight t-shirt.

Scene 1: Lady on DVD starts demonstrating the routine, Piglet to follow. Downward Dog. Grunt. Lady effortlessly slides from position to position, throwing in a plank from time to time. Piglet scrabbles around on all fours, bum in air, back on all fours in order to stand up, whoops, she’s toppled over. Another grunt. Ridiculous laughter. She tries to do the Plank but fails miserably and then splat on her face. Scene repeats.

Scene 2: 15 minutes later.
Frightfully fit ladies on DVD still doing graceful pilates moves. Piglet still flailing around in all directions. Time to lie on front on the floor. Extend arm and opposite leg, bend both and grab foot from behind. Piglet’s body will not move, hand grapples frantically trying to find foot. Ladies on DVD carry out said move with elegance, Piglet falls over without having held foot.

End Credits: Ladies on DVD are honed, toned and fighting fit. Piglet cannot get back up. Stays on floor. Crys. Is old. Spare tyre still there.

Yep, that’s right; I must have done something wrong as I wasn’t able to walk for three days after! Imagine the old ladies you sometimes see at the Dr’s surgery or at the market. The one’s wearing the contention tights and super sensible orthopedic shoes because they’ve had a hip replacement job? Well I was walking just like them. I couldn’t stand up, sit down or even turnaround without being in dreadful pain so I had to add to the hole in the French social security budget.

Miracously my hip is better now, but the Dr wants me to get an x-ray to check it out as he thinks there could be some joint damage. He’s also banned me from any sporty activity for the time being. Is this what ageing is about? And what about loosing weight?

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