Since the cows moved in

The week after we got back from France the cows moved back in. Not our cows, not the nice loving cows who are scared of me and happily move away at the drop of a hat, but the neighbour's cows.

The neighbour has a fairly significant herd which they have been rotating daily between our road side and a couple of very worn out paddocks. Quite frankly, it was a bit sad looking at them every day, which is why the farmer who manages this place invited them to put their cows on our part of the property for a couple of months in order to solve our grass problem (and therefore our snake issue).

The new cows all came pregnant, which was fine, we've had baby cows before and they are cuter than puppies. However, this lots have very badly behaved little calves. They like to spend most of their day under the house (despite the addition of more preventative measures). The noise is kind of like listening to a group of kids running around in the 1st floor of a 2 story house. That is, they thump and carry on and fight just like children.

It has started to become a real issue because in the last two weeks they have ripped out our satellite TV cable (our only source of TV) and our phone cable. They have also broken a window and every few days deposit another big poo at the bottom of our front stairs, just where it is convenient to get in the car. The worst part was the other night when I was home alone and knitting on the couch, very peaceful and tranquil, and a loud thump caused me to drop my knitting in fright and I swore, because I am not very good and dropped a stitch.

Their only saving grace is that unlike children, in a couple of weeks they will be too large to fit underneath the house (and they really are very cute when they are fresh and clean and little).

However all of our animals are a little eratic at the moment. The cats will only go outside through the windows, not the doors. The White Kitty climbed on the air conditioner outside our bedroom window while we were sleeping in the guest room and she couldn't get down, so she was stuck up there until 6am and scratched me to bits when I got her down.

In a separate incident White Kitty got locked in our storage room and waited patiently for 8 hours for us to come home from Toowoomba, sitting on Martin's TV box. Michael discovered her while he was in the toilet and saw her looking back at him from the room across the backyard while he looked out the window.

I had a friend drive me home from work last week and in the short time she was here she had to beep at cows on the driveway as they wre being stubborn and wouldnt give way, and dodge the poo using her torch. When she finally got inside our house for the first time ever, the green frog who lives under the sink was jumping around the bathroom and the Big Kitty brought in a mouse which she proceeded to eat on the kitchen floor. My poor friend squealed (which was hilarious) and I had to think back to only a year ago when all of these things would have startled me or made me think I was roughing it in the country.

However I still know I am a newbie when a brown snake climbs the front door of the reception area at work and I am too chicken to go out and help catch it (this afternoon).

St Aignan

Michael, the very essence of the bread buying man, with his compulsory 2 baguettes

Cooking our supermarche produce on the first night in St Aignan.

One of my favourite streets in St Aignan, maybe for the sign, maybe for the flags, maybe just for the colours, who knows.

Bridge over the Cher, later we found out that this house had been renovated by the same guy who did our house in the square. But it would have been noisy, right next to the bridge.

St Aignan from the park

The square with la Petite Boutique - our house for the week

Sunset over the square

More Fabulous Moments in France

Chateau Valencay - most pretty chateau that we saw in France. This was one we didn't mean to end up at. We went for an afternoon drive after the 'non French railway man' incident and 'world's biggest steak for lunch' and found that it was the one that captivated us the most. I would love to live there. I would love to work there - but only for the weddings. It was the most romantic spot we saw (note - still no ring in finger when we got home, hmm...)

Miss Lilly, who was our unexpected treasure in St Aignan. Where else can you buy a round for 8 people for 12.8 Euro? She spoke no English, I spoke no French (to the point of embarrassment and almost would have been ripped off for 65Euro if she wasn't so nice). We passed 3 evenings (I think) there, one with Ken and Walt and Douglas, the English man who renovated our St Aignan house and was hysterical with stories of the police.

St Aignan Place de Paix on market day. ie, the day we hightailed it out of there. The charcuterie man parked his truck inches from our front door and we sat absorbed through breakfast trying to work out what he was selling (from our breakfast table looking at the wrong side of his truck). St Aignan in the mist, with the church steeple and the markets, is like the apitome of unexpected in France. It was fab to be able to watch the croissant seller set up her wares outside our window, wait for her to get her coffee and tabac and then go 6 steps outside to buy a croissant (keep the change).

Our crappy Paris (the second time) hotel room. Smelly, noisy, down right depressing and disappointing, it had the best window to sit and gawk at passing traffic. This pic was taken while waiting for Jen to arrive (after 1 year apart). We also ended up with Kate and Chris who were unexpected (and hungover) and before we knew it, we knew half the hotel and all the staff.

The strike. Somehow on our third day back in Paris, we ended up at a cafe near Notre Dame, but on the other side of the river, watching the strike march (the first one) walk past. It was more like a stage show than a political exhibition. Music, performance, drums, singing. We sat for an hour an a half, the very first people passing us as we sat down and they were still marching past when we left an hour and a half later. Chris said he was impressed because Paris knows how to protest in style. He was less impressed with the 2 hour tourist bus to get home because the metro had stopped running.

Favourite Memories of France

The amazing Bascilica at Montmartre. We had seen this on the day we arrived back in Paris. There was some kind of concert on in the park on the grounds below the church and people were taking the 'lift' up there - the thing that looks like the scenic railway in the Blue Mountains. It was the most peaceful day we had in France. No traffic, unexpected treasures, cats on the tables in the restaurant. This view is from the commercial side of the square that we discovered by sheer chance.

The last night in France. Kate and Chris were broke and desperate (and full of lunch) by this stage, so we chose somewhere easy to eat, which was this Italian pizza restaurant around the corner from our hotel. The menu was extensive, prices were good and we had a lot of fun. It was the kind of last night hurrah you would want. Dont remember all that much, except that it had the kind of petite toilet wrapped around a pipe (literally) that you can imagine.

The Jetstar jump. I didn't capture it, Jen's camera did. We tried and tried. I counted afterwards that we went to the Trocadero 4 times to try and get a good shot. I was also hoping for some kind of 'special' to hit me. The dudes selling junk Eiffel Towers had really got me cranky and I was hoping for an inspired moment.

Michael and I in the scary pizza restauarnt in Montmatre - the one we ended up at becasue we were talked into it by the dude at the front door. Hilarious, but still a great night catching up with Jen.

My rose on our last night, from the rose seller who came into the wine shop where I was boozing it up at a wine tasting after the 3 bottles at the pizza restaurant. A quick dinner out for our last night, turned into an almost all nighter after Jen volunteered to go and buy the wine from our wine guy across the road who'd been selling us cold bottles with the cork pulled - thank you - all week. So about 10pm I go to find her, she's been gone for about 20mins. I walk into a full on wine tasting. We (the guys in the shop and the shop owner and a very nice guy called 'something french') have a very deep and intensive conversation about the soils in Burgundy and I am allowed to stay. I am offered the Japanese Whisky, but decline (novice spirit drinker). In the meantime, Jen has a teary and we ended up having the weirdest most bizarre conversation we've ever had. It was a good 2 hours of full on, only in Paris after a year apart kind of stuff (Jen - you are a fabulous friend). I still made it back to the wine tasting before they finished, though I passed on the scary follow up thing to the Japanese Whisky and went to bed. 3 hours sleep later, we got up to fly out.