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 ?
Piglet in France 