Sunday 21 February 2016

Beating back the dog with 3 ingredient cookies

The 3 ingredient cookie has gone viral. Its easy, healthy, low in calories, and I happen to have 2 near rotten bananas in my fruit bowl. I am out of raisons. But I have 2 half eaten apples which might work. Here we go :

Banana, apple and oats 3 ingredient magic cookie in a blender


Well if they're going to be quick and easy, I might as well put them in the mixer? In go the apples....

Banana, apple and oats 3 ingredient magic cookie in a blender


And this is what we get....

Banana, apple and oats 3 ingredient magic cookie in a blender

What can I say? Chewy.... And not quite enough to beat back the barking hound....Although I did eat manage to eat 3 of them.



Saturday 20 February 2016

Black dog days

Career women and black dogs

I can't say I want him here, but am not quite sure how to get rid of him, or if he's going to leave of his own accord.

Having made the pilgrimage to Limoges in search of better family harmony I find that I spend most of my weekends alone, well I am never alone with Anna. Indeed in general I am never alone. Lonely is the word.

I suppose I should be more supportive of Paul, but after 4 months of this, I am now just disinterested. It doesn't help that I have other worries to deal with from afar, and that I am confined to home because my other half is working 24/7 :

I bought a country house outside of Paris on a whim, spent 6 years and all my savings renovating it, and just when my haven of peace was finished, my neighbour announced he was going to divide his land in two and build a house behind mine. It was a strange affair, the neighbour started out somewhat sycophantic, then agressive, then the project just went underground. In July I found out he'd reapplied to sell the land. As it had a whiff of the dishonest, I checked his deeds, and found he actually didn't own the right of way to the land he wanted to sell. I informed the town hall, project gone to ground again. But what is a haven, if you have someone living next to you who fumes everytime he sees you? Even if you have won the battle...

Legal issues with French neighbours

On days like this, this is where a blog loses its usefulness and I should probably resort to some kind of self-help forum where friendly souls can endlessly discuss the do's and dont's. I think I prefer the black dog.


Thursday 18 February 2016

Need a physiotherapist!

All in all I think I have spent 24 hours in trains in the past 5 days. I could have gone to Australia in all that time, and the weather would have been a little less grim. It is cold, it is February, I'm behind on my work, and I have barely seen Paul since November. The life-work-balance is not happening. And my hips feel like someone's driven over them.

Workwise, I am very proud of the new exhibition we launched in Amiens on Monday - hollywood A-lister Tim Yip brought a little of his Crouching Tiger and Hidden Dragon magic to the city. A massive amount of work, a lot of both grumbling and excitement all around. But we made it.


Home wise, another victory. I have managed to get Anna out of her nylon frozen nightie (it has become a daytime favourite) and into an H&M frozen skirt, which has all the charm but less of the crinoline look about it. Thank you H&M for doing Frozen without the glitter and the frills. 

Trendy frozen clothing for kids




Tuesday 16 February 2016

Eagles of Death Metal in Paris tonight

If I had known, would I have gone down the Boulevard des Capucines to my meeting in Paris? Possibly not. Does it feel like a manifestation of freedom when a concert has to take place in a military lock down zone? Does anyone really feel this will heal the wound?

I couldn't be gladder to leave the city tonight. My train arrives home at 10pm, and I am weary from travel. A story from the desert comes to mind : an ancient tribe of travellers on their camels on a long journey make a stop in the desert – they are neither hungry nor thirsty. Their camels are not tired. An outsider asks them why they are waiting – for our souls to catch up with us, they say.

I must have left my soul behind on many continents, it will never catch up with me. The modern world spins too fast, it is forever outpacing us.

Which takes me to the testimony of a Belgian friend and colleague from the November Paris attacks, from the rue de Charonne : “I recognize the sound of fireworks, I try to analyze what is happening, thinking it was kids joking around… Two meters away from me, I see a man, holding a huge Kalashnikov gun… they are calm, incredibly calm, the gunman next to me is almost smiling…. Now I really want to insist on this: the brain is way too slow in this situation. I finally get that this is not a joke. Something in my head screamed, run as fast as you can, every step you’re alive, you’re still alive. As I ran on, they kept on shooting for way, way, way too long. I guess that most of the people standing on the opposite sidewalk died. They were like mirrors of my stupefaction, I saw them before their last breath”.


Sunday 14 February 2016

Landmarks of 2016

And as we make our way towards March (another year for me, I am no longer counting) I realise that this will be the third landmark I will spend "alone", or partner-free. Anna's birthday, Valentine's day, my birthday... Its hard when you have been brought up by a family who gives great significance to dates and to remembrance, to join another who gives so little. Not that there is not caring or generosity, but a lack of sentiment for numbers, days, months, years that I find hard to reconcile.

Today was the day I first plaited Anna's hair. Today I celebrated the day of love with Anna.


Saturday 13 February 2016

A reminder of the threat to Paris...

There is always a sense of expectation when you arrive in Paris, it's often short-lived, but as I made my way to the Gare du Nord, picked up my Chinese takeaway lunch, wondered at the oddity of the house sculpture infront of the station (why and who?)



I was beginning to enjoy the adventure that lay ahead. Until the unexpected happened on the Thalys platforms. Security there is at airport level, our bags were all Xrayed in ultra-efficient and very un-French style, and the train left on time.



It is a reminder that the threat is arbitrary but real. After my initial alarm I felt some reassurance, tinged somewhat with reminders of events gone past, to which I was far too near on both occasions.

By the time I found my seat on the train, my Chinese takeaway was tepid and the chicken was gristly.  And to fast forward somewhat, on my return to Paris, I arrived ridiculously ahead of time, prepared for the same security routine and found none. Could it be that Brussels-Paris has a lesser security risk compared to Paris-Brussels? It was an uneasy ride back... and the meal was not of much comfort (yes that is purple mashed potato) and the coffee machine was on strike.


There's something about Belgian chic though that wins over the French every time. The shops are so tempting, and I made an impulse buy that made my trip worth while. Agreed it doesn't make sense to go to Brussels for Cath Kinston but this is the ultimate work-play bag - practical but funky enough to put your 13" laptop into, and with 2 very clever handles that make it a clutch bag (albeit a fairly clunky one). I am a happy lady. If I could find a matching tote to slip into it for nights out that would make my year.







Thursday 11 February 2016

Limoges-Paris-Brussels

Harder to take the train today than usual. Anna is much chirpier after her 48 hour bug, but I am a little worn down. As I get comfy on the train and settle in, I realise a woman next to me is going to be munching loudly on gum for the next 3 and half hours and I dont think my nerves can take it. I read recently this is syndrome, and I felt a little concerned. Not the chewing, but the being annoyed by the chewing. Surely everyone must find the squelching annoying? A bit like porn without the good bits.

I have become a veteran traveller and am much enamoured of my thermos flask which has become a good travel companion (word of flask wisdom : never put milky tea in your thermos or it tastes rancid for ages afterwords).



I have a little hidey hole in Paris. Called the Picasso Studio Loft. It belongs to artists I work with, and I rent it out at a friendly price. The pictures do it alot of justice! Its actually very dark, but I love the retro furnishings and the ageing paintings.



It sounds glamorous but I actually havent event explored the neighbourhood, which is gorgeous, in the heart of the Marais. I plonk down my suitcase, go the office, come back, watch bad TV and sleep. If all goes well. There’s even a piano if I was feeling adventurous. When I first emigrated to Limoges, I thought that my Paris hops would be moments of freedom, of being a single lady again, I had visions of seeing art house movies, catching up on shows, having dinner with friends. But the reality of a 48 hour journey, of which 8 hours is travelling doesn’t leave much time for glamorous leisure and finding my old self. And the truth of it is I am quite happy with my new self, and my homeliness.