The Del Trotter of Dax

As it's become increasingly clear that I'm not going to get paid by my delightful employers and therefore we can't afford to install a bedroom floor, we've resorted to doing what we always do in times of financial hardship, sell stuff.

As it is socially unacceptable to flog your body parts (and I'm not even sure anyone would want my kidneys), I started with the contents of the barn. When I realised that Mr H had not one, not two, not three but four scaffolding towers, it seemed reasonable to get rid of some of them. Obviously this was met with some reluctance on his part - you just never know when they might come in handy - but once negotiations were over, he entered into the spirit of the thing and found me a whole load of old toot to list on the infamous Bon Coin. I managed to part him from three spare Land Rover seats, a soft-top cover for a type of Land Rover we no longer own, numerous tools and several surfboards.

There's also the camping gear dating from our trip to the Bardenas desert. Sounds idyllic but he made me sleep in a roof tent (I have vertigo) and it was minus 8. I'd brought summer sleeping bags. The lowest moment was climbing down the ladder at 3am for a wee and feeling my socks stick to the frozen roof ladder. We have not been camping since. To be fair, I did get a weekend in the Hotel Aire to compensate.

All this sales stuff does mean I am constantly fielding calls. People ring up at all hours of day and night and ask the most bizarre questions. Or even worse, don't ask any questions and expect me to convince them to buy the 5 stainless steel stove pipes that they are calling about. Surely either you want 5 stainless steel stove pipes or you don't? Or maybe they are just lonely and want a chat? Or maybe they have worked out I'm English from the advert and think it will be a cheap way of having a telephone English lesson? Who knows. But the stuff is selling and as we currently have a large empty room where the kitchen should be (no bedroom floor = no kitchen), we have everything inside, showroom style. Our friends are getting a bit fed up of popping round for an apero and leaving with a paper shredder and a punch bag, but hey, every little helps!

Given that it has been around four months since my last confession, sorry post, I thought I had better do something about it. So here is a quick resume of what has been going on in the wonderful world of SFN Towers.

I spent January and February hobbling to and from work on crutches. A  kind friend lent me a wheelchair which made going to the supermarket possible. Or should that be 'eventful' as Mr H thought it was great fun and behaved accordingly. He pushed me everywhere as fast as possible and did wheelies in the car-park; his favourite trick was to take a run up at the automatic doors, stopping only in the nick of time when they failed to keep pace with his speed. We regularly hit around 30km per hour in the veg aisle, slowing down only when we got to steak and red wine. I now know why small children often wail when in their pushchairs. It's because they are bloody terrified.

I survived all that, finished the teaching contract, got the plaster off and enjoyed a couple of weeks part time before the next contract started. I stopped enjoying my 'leisure' time when I discovered that the company I have been working for had gone into administration. At the moment, I have no idea when or even if, I will get paid.

Mr H spent March attacking the house. Floors and walls have been removed, openings made and windows installed. Sadly there is no likelihood of the floor going back in in the foreseeable future as floors cost money and until I get the four grand (and counting) that I am currently owed, that, my friend is that. The dream bedroom will remain a dream.....for the time being at least. Still, I do have a 'cathedral' style interior living space.

My one success has been dog training. I dealt with the naughty yapping puppy by buying one of those electronic collars that zap the dog when it yaps. Being tight, I bought a dodgy 'own brand' type job from Ebay. It basically electrocuted the s*** out of her for 24 hours until we realised what was going on. On the upside, it cured her of her favourite pastime, barking at the horses back legs and having seen how effective it is, the kids are suitably chastened. After all, I'm the mother that tied Daisy to a tree with a lunge line when she was a toddler and had Max on an extending dog lead at the beach, so it's not beyond the realms of possibility that I'd resort to electrical behaviour control. They do it in the States after all and besides, anyone who objects, clearly has not shared a house with gobby teenagers.

New Year, New You!

We all know that this is the time of year when we're probably carrying a few surplus pounds from the Christmas excesses....

So we are delighted to bring you, entirely free of charge, the ultimate SFN New Year, New You 6 Week Diet, Detox and Fitness Plan! Follow this diet and workout regime and we GUARANTEE you will lose weight, tone up and improve your stamina levels!

The first step is to break your leg. I KNOW this sounds drastic but trust me, it is a key part of the plan. If you can't bear to break your own leg, get a friend or family member to do it for you. But do make sure you have appropriate health cover in place before starting. We wouldn't want you caught with a large bill now would we?

Once your leg has been broken and you are in plaster, you will be pretty immobile for at least the first ten days. This is the Intensive Attack stage when you will burn fat from sheer misery and pain. You will be on fairly strong painkillers (if you've got any sense) and these will make you so dozy, you simply forget to eat. Simple huh?

You will also no longer be able to drink. Even if you fancy mixing the painkillers with a few cocktails, being pissed in charge of a pair of crutches simply DOES NOT WORK. Trust me. So just think of all those calories you will be saving!

From week two onwards, any hunger cravings are easy to deal with by remembering that anything you do eat or drink, will eventually, necessitate a trip to the toilet. As this entails hobbling there on said crutches and then attempting NOT to fall into the loo whilst balanced on one leg, it is both a deterrent and a good physical workout. Clench those leg muscles!!

You might have seen other diets suggesting that you stick messages on the fridge door saying things like Do You Really Need To Open Me?, I'm Not Going To Give In! I Don't Want Another Slice Of Cake and so on. Here at SFN Towers, we have a far more effective solution. Dig the floor out to a depth of 80 cm and then control access to the kitchen via three breeze blocks. Only those who have been on crutches for several weeks will be able to manage this type of obstacle so any snack cravings are easily overcome!

Obviously diet alone is not enough. You need to improve fitness levels too and trust me, crutches will help. Operating them is a full body work out and you'll find you have arms like Madonna in no time. Make sure you also exercise buttock and stomach muscles. The easiest way to do this is to attempt to go up and down the stairs, at least twice a day, on your backside with one leg stuck out in front of you. Excellent for those abs!

We hope you enjoy the plan, do let us know how you get on and Happy Hopping!!

'Tis the season to be jolly - or not....

I'd planned to write an amusing second part to my last post. One where I would regale you with amusing tales of fighting through the crowds to source the finest fresh produce for our Christmas feast. Alas, it was not to be.

We decided to take the kids to the ski slopes on the 24th. The idea was that those that wanted to could ski and those that didn't, could go sledging and chuck snowballs around. The skiers duly buggered off and the rest of us went walking. A good time was had by all until after lunch, when we decided to go sledging.

It was still going well until I decided to get on the sledge with Tilly. Even then, it might have been ok had my youngest daughter not decided to do 'extreme' sledging and go as fast as possible. The inevitable happened. We hit the safety barrier, which did admittedly prevent me from going over the edge of the mountain, Bridget Jones style, but unfortunately meant my leg went one way and the rest of me another.

Result - one broken mummy.

So I'm typing from the sofa with my leg encased in plaster. On the days when I'm working, the long suffering Mr.H has to chauffeur me from A to B, make me sandwiches and make sure I have my hat, scarf and gloves to hand. It all feels a bit like being five again.

Still, I did get out of cooking over Christmas and New Year. The downside was that I also got out of drinking. You simply cannot be pissed in charge of a pair of crutches. Trust me, it does not work.

So when I write a feature entitled "Your Christmas Countdown - Ten Top Tips For a Stress Free Holiday" - I will of course be emphasising the following:

Do Not Go Skiing

Make Sure You Don't Plan To Do Last Minute Food Shopping On The 24th As You May Be In Hospital

The Same Goes For Buying Champagne Glasses - Bubbly Can Lose Its Sparkle When Served In Chipped Tumblers

and finally

Choose Your Houseguests Carefully - luckily mine were stars and happy to do a ten day stint of cooking, laundry and housework - it could have been far worse!

Christmas In France - Part 1 -Tis the season to be jolly.....

Given the weather today, this post ought to be re-titled, "Tis the season to huddle by the fire and refuse to venture outside" - and whilst this is fine for the cats, who are doing just that, it won't help me finish my Christmas shopping.

This year I am, even by my disorganised standards, going for a new world record in Catharine Fails To Get Christmas Under Control. Not a single card has been written or sent, I'm missing various presents for various people and I haven't even thought about what we are going to eat.

I really do not want to have to go out looking for Christmas gifts on a Saturday when the shops will be full of people panic buying foie gras, reserving oysters and stockpiling their own body weight in traditional French Christmas food, but given the week ahead, needs must.

I am working on Monday, helping friends move house on Tuesday, have various meetings on Wednesday and doing the airport run on Thursday, this leaves me Friday. Christmas Eve is out in terms of shopping; due to yet another planning failure on my part. It is the small son's birthday and trailing round the shops is not his idea of birthday fun. His sister's birthday is on the 26th December so I should by now, have sourced cards, presents and birthday cakes. And of course, I haven't.

The only option is to scoot out this afternoon and belt round the local supermarket and hope that some of their idee cadeau stickers will inspire me. The stickers always crack me up. They seem to be applied completely randomly. You see them on toiletry gift sets, hairdryers and over-sized boxes of chocolates. That I get, but a net for your swimming pool? I would have thought that if you have a pool, you can probably afford to buy a net and besides, would you really want the leaves to build up until December when some kindly Aunt provided you with one? And how the hell would you gift wrap it? 

Still, it could be worth buying a net or a broom, simply for the amusement value provided by watching the school kids who are inside the supermarket on 'wrapping' detail, struggling to gift wrap the thing. The kids are usually (allegedly) collecting money for their school trip. I know the kids who are 'wrapping' in our local store and the only trips they are interested in are of the hallucinogenic kind.

But gift wrapping in stores is a long-held French tradition and a great time saver. Unless you happen to be in the queue behind the lady who has bought multiple, fragile items and wants them all wrapped beautifully and separately. And you just want to pay and get out of there because your packet of A4 paper is not a cadeau. You just require it for your printer. Urgently.

It also makes your own attempts at wrapping look rubbish in comparison. And it makes buying wrapping paper very expensive. People do so little of their own wrapping that shops charge a premium for tiny rolls of paper. I thought I had struck lucky the other day when I found a 7m roll with a swirly gold pattern at a reasonable price. When I got it home I discovered that the swirly gold pattern only covered a tiny proportion of the roll. The rest was see through and it was actually designed for wrapping floral bouquets. As Max is getting Lego not lilies, this is a bit of an issue. Kind of spoils it when you can see your presents through the wrapping paper. And not really the kind of thing Santa would do.

So I'm going to go for it, brave the thunder and the hail, run to the shops, buy a random selection of bizarre items, get them wrapped by the surly adolescents, come home, pour myself an extremely large drink and refuse to panic about the Christmas Menu. Until at least the 23rd...