Life after confinement, normal, but not normal

First coffee at the village bar

Normal, not normal

On paper yesterday seemed to be a perfectly normal day. Get up, have breakfast, join friends for coffee at the village bar, home for a yoga class, lunch, head to Niort for big shopping, dinner and then a council meeting. In reality, it was a long way from normal.

The village awakes 

At 08h30 the bar opened its doors for the first time since the middle of March and whilst we weren’t queueing up waiting for the key to turn in the lock, we certainly made sure we were there for a morning coffee with friends, like normal. What wasn’t normal was the lack of hugs or kisses to say hello and our smiles were hidden by our masks, that also did a great job at muffling our greetings. The owners were wearing full visors and although masks were removed when we sat at the outside terrace, where the drinks and conversation flowed, it all felt a bit strange. It was also rather disturbing to see local French friends arrive, remove their masks and say hello in the normal French (cheek kissing) way. I know I am not ready for that level of intimacy outside of immediate family just yet.

Yoga

Yoga was as normal as it has been since March, a log in to an online class where Marc the teacher fills the screen of my laptop, the others are tiny thumbnails at the edge of the picture and the only other thing in my yoga nook with me is Mini the dog, snoring on the bed. There is now the possibility of starting real life classes once more, but on a restricted basis that will involve a lot more work and effort from Marc and Kate who run Phoenix Yoga. From discussions after class, it seems most of us are agreed, for now, online is still the way to go.

Niort

I’m not really a fan of days out shopping at the best of times, but every now and then, needs must. Post Covid-19 confinement shopping takes things to a whole new level of stress and unpleasantness. Some people are wearing masks, some are not, some shops insist on masks, some do not. Some people respect the distances expected between others, some do not. Everywhere seemed busy and slow, with queues to get in as people stopped to apply hand gel, queues at the checkouts and traffic queues all over town. I was tired, grumpy and so glad to get home, which if I’m honest is my normal reaction to having to go shopping.

Council meeting

Under normal circumstances, I would not still be on the village council, but as the confinement meant the cancellation of the second round of elections, back in March, it is the old council who are still in control. The second round is now scheduled for 28^th June and it will be just after that, when the Maire and deputies are voted in by the new council that they take over. Last night’s meeting to agree a provisional budget for 2020 was a very different meeting to normal. Rather than being held in the normal small meeting room in the Mairie, we were vastly spread out, at our own tables, in the salle des fetes, with adequate distances between us at all times. Even the attendees were not the same as normal as this was an extraordinary mix of old and newly elected councillors, the vote being ours, but in reality, it will be the new team who have to work with the budget we voted for. We normally end each meeting with a chilled glass of something and more informal conversations than the meeting itself allows. Last night, we finished, we said goodbye, we left and it all seemed rather flat.

Wearing pink for Ben

A very un-normal day

Today is not going to be a normal day either. It is not normal to lose your 22-year-old nephew. It is not normal to be prevented from attending the funeral of a close family member and it’s certainly not what I think of as normal to be given a log-in to watch a live stream from the crematorium. 

Ben was a bright and sparkly character, who lit up a room with his smile and also his collection of colourful shirts. We are dressed in our finest bright clothes for him today, as requested. One of the things we bought in Niort yesterday was a bright pink flamingo for our garden, in memory of Ben, who was often photographed with a pink flamingo. Rest in peace, Ben.

Ben

Diary of Covid-19 confinement, day six

Lazy Sunday morning breakfast

Lazy Sunday morning

It would be easy to lose track of the days, but as Sunday has always had a special start for us with croissants for breakfast, today was no exception. The only difference being that this morning there was no chit-chat in the boulangerie as only one customer is allowed in the small shop at a time. It will be a sad day for me if boulangeries have to close their doors for a while.

 

Ice yoga!

The rest of today has been very productive, especially for a Sunday, although I have found myself questioning why I’m now so keen to complete jobs I could and should have done weeks ago. I have no answer, but it is making me happy. In fact, I am ridiculously happy now all the freezers have been defrosted, cleaned out and I now know what I’ve got and where it is. 

 

Adrian on the road to nowhere

To keep our spirits and energy levels up I’ve baked another cake and Adrian has set up his turbo trainer, enabling his legs to feel the benefit of cycling, even if the rest of him was going nowhere. I’ve also made more soup, using up some of the more dubious items found in the freezers, but also packed full of chilli, ginger, turmeric and today’s special ingredient, nettles. I’m planning on ensuring we are all kept fully topped up with as much vitamins and minerals as is possible over the coming weeks.

Council

In other news Covid-19 has managed to overrule Brexit, even if it is only for a short time. Last Sunday France went ahead and held the first round of the local elections, but for many communes, including ours, a second round of voting to obtain the required number of councilors was required. This should have been happening today, but sensibly, this time, President Macron decided to delay voting. I felt so strongly at his decision last week, I refused to do my two-hour slot at the polling station, out of protest, so I am glad that common sense has prevailed today. What this means for all communes in France who have yet to vote in a Maire and deputies, is that until at least 15^th May the previous Maire and councilors are still in office. I’m still on the council – yippee! I know we won’t be sitting around the table making any decisions, but we are all in regular contact and I will do all I can to help those in the commune get through this. 

With my Mum in the 1970's. Can you tell I was a bit of a handful?

Mother’s Day

As the UK is celebrating Mother’s Day today, we had a good catch up on Facetime with both our Mums and although celebrations were probably more subdued for many this year, I hope if you too were celebrating, you had a lovely day.

Significant days, dates and times

Today is La Chandeleur, or Candlemass Day, significant for being the mid-way point between the shortest day and the spring equinox, as well as the Catholic feast of the purification of the Virgin Mary, forty days after Christmas. 

There are many traditions associated with Candlemass day. Here in France pancakes are eaten and it is believed that successfully tossing them while holding a coin in your writing hand, will bring prosperity for your family this year. Tossing pancakes, in either my left or right hand, has never been one of my talents, but as Bernadette at the village boulangerie had made the effort to cook a stack of real French crêpes this morning, I have placed my chances of prosperity for the year in her expert hands.

This year the date is also palindromic 02/02/2020 and it happens to be the 33^rd day of a leap year, leaving 333 days remaining. For number nerds like me, these numeric patterns are quite significant, although I can’t say I can feel any positive vibes coming from them this year.

Citizen of Europe

What is also significant is the seismic shift that occurred in our lives this weekend. No longer are we EU citizens living in another EU state from where we were born. We are now classed as third country nationals. We have lost our right to vote in France or stand for election to the local council, and as we have been out of the UK for over fifteen years, we now have no right to vote anywhere. I would feel like a citizen of nowhere if it weren’t for the love and support we have had from our French friends in the village.

President Macron has also publicly shown his support for the British living in France with his message assuring us we have a place here.

“À tous les Britanniques qui vivent en France depuis tant d'années : vous êtes en France chez vous, aujourd'hui et demain.”

You can read his full statement in English here and also the touching words of Alain Rousset, President of the Region Council of Nouvelle-Aquitaine here.

The Maire joins us for an apero of solidarity

The Maire in our village, who I have had the privilege to work alongside as a councillor for the last six years, spoke of his regret that I can no longer be included in the list for re-election this March, and many others in the village have told me they feel the same way.

“Jacqui, une nouvelle fois, tu avais toute ta place sur une liste constituée en vue de l’élection de mars prochain. Je regrette sincèrement que ton nom risqué de ne pays y figurer. Si j’en avais le pouvoir, je te ferais conseillère municipal d’honneur de Loubillé !”

We have entered a period of transition, from now until the 31^st December, a mere 333 days, during which, with the exception of voting rights nothing much will change. I can only hope that clarity for our position after that will be made clear sooner rather than later. In much the same way that the UK government have focussed solely on the wishes of those who voted to leave the EU in the last three and half years, they are currently only concerned with brokering a trade deal with the EU in terms of goods. The current Withdrawal Agreement doesn’t cover the provision of services across borders, which is the crux of our business and our income, so for us the uncertainty of the full effects of Brexit is still as big an issue as it was at the referendum in 2016.

On Friday night we marked the official leaving of the UK from the EU in our own way, surrounded by friends and a community that is there for each other. We dined on fish and chips, then crooned our way through lyrics that included ‘The Winner Takes It All’, ‘Never Gonna Give EU Up’ and ‘Why, Why, Why, Delilah’, all washed down with copious amounts of French wine. As midnight approached, we played Europe’s ‘The Final Countdown’, followed by a candlelit minute’s silence, before a rousing rendition of ‘Auld Lang Syne’ and Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’. It was quite an emotional moment for us all.

The dates this weekend might well be significant, but I for one have never felt so insignificant. Heartbroken doesn’t come close.

Busy days, noisy nights and winter weather woes

Storm Ana

I was a little bleary-eyed this morning thanks to my new friend Ana. Actually, she’s not my friend at all, just the latest named storm to attack us from the west, blowing around all night, causing things to go bump, crash and the roof tiles to clatter around, which kept me awake. I was convinced daylight would reveal debris and disorder in the garden, but thankfully all was well if rather damp this morning.

It was also quite a busy weekend and the last thing I needed was a storm-damaged nights sleep, but at least I was able to take the executive decision not to drive Ed to school in the dark, when the gusts were being recorded at over 100km/h. We might not have enjoyed a lie-in, but we did have a sneaky lazy morning together.

The weather this last week has certainly been varied, from thick fog last Monday, when I spent the morning doing the Limoges airport run, to freezing fog on Wednesday, pouring rain on Friday, then blue skies and sunshine, but heavy frost on Saturday to gale force wind with more rain on Sunday and into Monday. I’m not enjoying this wild array of wintery weather one bit. Thankfully there has been a lot going on to take my mind off of the weather.

Cutting the tricolore

On Saturday morning, as a local councillor, I was invited to attend the opening of a local mediathéque (multi-media library). For a small, rural town a brand new library and multi-media centre, with meeting space for the town associations, is quite an achievement and while I overheard some saying the architect had used too much metalwork on the design, most of us agreed the mix of glass, local stone, wood (the town is home to a large wood yard) and metal (as the building was originally a ironmongers shop) was just right. One of the perks of being a councillor is the invites to local special ‘do’s’ like this, where I have observed the French ribbon-cutting tradition, and I love it. A line of dignitaries proudly stand behind a tricolore ribbon, which one of them cuts to officially open whatever it is we have gathered to celebrate, they then each take a small section of ribbon away with them, often tucking it in their top jacket pocket. Although I wasn’t a dignitary, our village Maire did cut me off my own piece of ribbon when I explained this was a very French thing to do.

The dignitaries and their speeches

The other tradition is for all the assembled dignitaries to say a few (or a lot) of words. Thankfully as we had an event in our village to attend, we only had time to listen to the eight-page speech from the town Maire and sadly had to leave before the other seven started their speeches!

The table setting for the village Christmas meal

Our afternoon was then spent entertaining our village elders, the over 70’s who are invited to a five-course Christmas meal each year. It was great fun, good company and we all enjoyed the foire gras with fig and onion chutney, the salmon served in a scallop shell, the duck, the cheese and the black forest themed dessert. As a councillor I’m honoured to be included, and rather glad that the serving and clearing of the tables is down to us as at least it ensures lots of exercise between courses.

The Christmas menu

I’m not sure if today’s laziness was down to a food hangover from the weekend or the lack of sleep last night, but with a busy week ahead of me, it was probably just what I needed.

This evening I attended a local Brexit information meeting set up by the British Embassy, which was informative even if all our questions don’t have answers just yet, but it's getting late now, so I’ll tell you more about that tomorrow.

Meilleurs vœux, bonne année et bonne santé

Vœux du Maire

“Meilleurs vœux, bonne année et bonne santé” are words you hear a lot of in France at the beginning of the year. Neighbours, friends, work colleagues and everyone you meet will give you their best wishes for the coming year and especially for your good health. Yesterday we had the last of our village festive celebrations; the Maire’s New Year Wishes (Vœux du Maire) accompanied by tasty treats and aperitifs, but our festivities started quite a while ago. As a village councillor I feel honoured to have been involved in shopping, serving, decorating and eating.

With Père Noel at the children's party

Our small village is rather unusual, but lucky, to boast a healthy number of families with children so we always hold a party just before Christmas, with gifts from Père Noel, for all children aged ten and under. With hot chocolate, mini viennoiseries and music; a fun afternoon is had by all, including Ed and I.

Shopping with Père Noel

This year we contacted Père Noel in November to inform him of the names and ages of the 38 under elevens (just in case he needed a reminder) and he arranged a date to meet us somewhere special and top secret to decide what gifts would be suitable. 

Stacking the gifts

Together with a local toy expert, who we will call Chief Elf, we made our way down the list starting with boys aged ten and finishing up in the baby section. Père Noel (dressed down to ensure he wasn’t recognised) had brought his modern sleigh and it wasn’t long before it was stacked high with boxes, big and small and of every different colour. 

The arrival of the parcels

These were then wrapped by the elves and delivered just before Père Noel arrived at our party.

Foie gras starter

As well as the children’s party, we also have a bit of a ‘do’ for those aged over seventy. At the beginning of December, they were invited to the salle des fêtes where the councillors served them a five-course meal that we all enjoyed together. 

Fish terrine

I remember both my Nans having bird-like appetites and always choosing small portions and light meals. Not so French Mamies, they have no trouble in putting away a starter of foie gras, a fish terrine, a stuffed quail main course, cheese and dessert, all washed down with a kir, two different white wines, a red wine and a digestif of Cognac. 

Dessert

I could barely move afterwards and I didn’t even drink any alcohol with my meal, but it was a lovely afternoon with lots of chatter and fun.

Village decorations

With the sun shining in mid December, it was good to get out in the fresh air and help to put up the village decorations. Last year we had a little working party that made our unique wooden trees (see here) and it was lovely to put them out again this year and decorate the village. Our sewing group has also added to the decorations making a Joyeuses Fêtes banner for the salle des fêtes and some bunting for the square.

Choucroute meal

I was treated to another feast of a meal last Friday when the councillors and commune staff got together to thank everyone for another year of work and commitment to village life. We enjoyed a choucroute meal, which with sausages, pork and ham has to be one of the meatiest dishes known to man.

Choucroute - can you see the cabbage hiding under the meat?

Portions were so generous we all came home with doggy bags, and although I’ve made an Alsace themed pizza I still have enough food to keep me going well into the week.

All that is left now is to take down the wooden trees and pack our village Christmas away, but this being France the salle des fêtes will stay busy and shared meals will continue throughout the year.

I do hope that wherever you live in the world, your community also knows how to hold a celebration. Bonne année et bonne santé to you all.

This post has been linked to Paulita's #DreamingofFrance blog link up. See here for more posts.

My obituary, the end of an era

This short message that will appear in the next edition of our village magazine, something I have helped to produce for over ten years, is probably the closest I will ever get to reading my own obituary:

“We would simply like to say publicly to Jacqui Brown, whose deep involvement in the village council, and more generally in our community, is known by us all, our regret that she will not be able to stand for election in 2020 (if she wished).”

This makes me sad. The French have been very proactive in encouraging communities with English immigrants to have a voice by electing someone to stand on their local council. They want us to do our bit, get involved, have our say, help out in our French community, but also to have a representative on hand to help out our fellow immigrants. I have been called down to the Mairie many times since the 2014 elections to help someone newer to the village who has a problem and may not have the language skills to understand what to do now.

The EU referendum vote in the UK will not mean that my village will chuck me out or stop me from volunteering or helping in the local community, but it will take away my voice. Immigrants are often criticised for arriving and not integrating in their new communities. My right to integrate as I am doing now, as a village councillor, is in jeopardy and once the UK has exited the EU, will be lost.

Democracy exists to enable change to happen and that must be viewed as a good thing. At present no one can be certain what these changes will mean for the future of the UK or Europe and I only hope that positive things emerge. The only certain is that things will not remain the same and my daily rights to live my life as I am doing now will be effected.

There will be challenging and worrying times ahead, but whatever happens and wherever I end up living, I know that this quirky little village in the middle of rural France has felt more like home to me than anywhere else I have ever lived.

Advent day twelve, a special Christmas meal

Repas de Noel

Being a village councillor has a few benefits, like being allowed to take part in the Christmas meal offered by the municipality to all residents over seventy, despite only being 44. 

Menu

We dined like kings and queens on foie gras, fish terrine, roasted baby chicken, cheese and a three chocolate dessert. As you would expect wine flowed before, during and after the meal. Here are just a few photos to whet your appetite. 

Foie gras

Fish terrine

Roast chicken in champagne sauce

Cheese

Chocolate

Here are a few of my favourite Christmas themed books set in France.