Summer 2017

Dear Readers (she writes, imagining she’s a 1980’s Agony Aunt/Domestic Goddess column writer, punching fruitlessly onto a click-clack old computer keyboard while trying to solve the culinary disasters of her loyal fan base.)

La Terrace — My new office space for the next 5-8 weeks!

I’m hanging out on my most awesome terrace this morning, because its really the first time I can do it for this purpose. The truth of the matter is that I have a rather uneasy sensation hovering in the crevices of my soul. Today I’m not at work. Today is the first day that The Connermara has its doors closed. No, thats not strictly correct- we closed for a week over Christmas.

But this week, its different- I will be going in tomorrow to empty out the fridges and turn them off. Because for the next few still-to-be-determined weeks the pubs doors won’t be open. Not for lunch, not for a pint in the evening. The Irishman is tired, and the green hills of his home land beckon his soul more than the endless monotony of French cultural norms.

The pub has been sold. As I am part of the furniture, and have a permanent work contract, French law means that the new owners have to keep me on, so I at least still have a job.

So what’s the sense of unease I hear you ask?

I think it’s a little disappointment of failure mixed in with a little fear at what work will turn out to be like when it re-opens sometime in September, add into that mix sadness to be without the casual friendships that I’ve built up with my colleagues over the last 8 months. Fortunately, for the month of August I hadn’t really counted on earning an income- essentially whatever I would have had come in would have been paid into the pocket of a babysitter, so even if the pub wasn’t closing, I may have requested a little additional time off anyway, so the lack of income for this month isn’t a ‘train-smash’, and it means that I actually get to appreciate the school holidays this time round, which is possibly the very best aspect of being temporarily jobless.

This morning I got to appreciate knowing I could have a lie in (even if I didn’t really take it), I did a load of washing, set the dishwasher, and begged the girls to stop their playing so that we could bus it to town. Hah- you never ask your children to quit their playing, unless its absolutely essential! They spent their morning pretending to own a pub, and asked for 3 pots of real tea (for their little business) which they actually drank all of. They jumped on the trampoline, choreographed trampoline dance moves and basically persuaded me that town can wait til tomorrow. How nice it is knowing that I actually have to plan a trip ‘to town’ now? Actually, its just a little bit funny, because its really only a 7km cycle there, but will take half an hour, be it by bike, or bus. As it is, I have a growing list of jobs to do, so probably best to whack them out at the same time, and not find a new one every other day.

I have 5 weeks with the girls ahead of me. I’m hoping we can take in some pool time, walk down to the river and see if we can catch some fish, do some sewing for Beth, catch up on some reading, see what Alex is craving, and maybe I can get in some running (this suburban life with a terrace has seen way too many parties and the pounds are beginning to find their way to my midriff again). I have some baking on the cards. We’re going to spend 10 days in the Netherlands later in August, and I’m hoping to get some rusks made for that trip.

Maybe I should also take this time to catch up on blog writing- you know, maybe put up some recipes that I have been meaning to forever, but wasn’t able to get round to it recently. Any special requests? I came across a blog this morning written by a Canadian living in Pretoria as an ex-pat. He’s been there for all of 11 months and writes in a casual easy going manner trying to figure his way in our lovely homeland, and I enjoyed reading it, being able to reflect on ‘expatriate’ lifestyles, a foreigner in SA, wanting to defend so much, but mostly what I took away when I stopped reading, was that I no longer have the same naivety and wide-eyed fascination in my own blog writing, for which I sort of want to apologise, but not entirely, because this is me, and it’s how I write.

Summer has been a good one so far. We’ve had visitors, including family from home, the kids have enjoyed plenty social company, we’ve achieved a few more activities than we did last summer like heading out to the Bastille Day fireworks, even if it meant detouring via Germany and its’ open ice cream shops in order to make sure nobody except La Petite Monstre falls asleep like we’ve done in previous years. We went to view the Cathedrals Illumination before the end of summer and it was sadly not as good as previous years.

The weather has swung between sticky omnipresent heat and welcome, sooothing cool and rain. We have thoroughly, and I really mean THOROUGHLY enjoyed having the terrace this summer. There has been a flood of people in and out of our doors, the Weber braai has been well broken in, the cost of the trampoline very much paid itself off. Anton has enjoyed a few cricket matches which makes his heart happy, and I have taken the chance to join in the fun and get some sun and social interaction, which is also good for the soul. I guess that’s just what we do up here at this latitude- monopolise the good weather while it lasts, and take our memories into hibernation when life becomes grey and dull.

Before I sign off for today, have a squizz at my summer photos so far- they kind of wrap up what we’ve been up to so far.