For 25 years, I have been hearing the virtues of the Hoopoe. How distinctive they are, how pretty, once seen never forgotten and of course, the ’oo-poo’ call they utter as they fly about their business.

Have I ever seen one? No! Never!

I began to think they were a joke, a figment of someones imagination, a bluff. Ok, I knew they exist, I have looked them up in the ‘Birds of Britain and Europe’ book. In fact, I know quite alot about them…but quite frankly, I thought I would have more chance of seeing an emu or a Lyre bird strolling about.

But I have had to change my opinion now. They are everywhere this year. In fact, I can barely leave the house now without one nearly flying into the car or driving with one flying alongside. And, yes, it’s true, they are distinctive and beautiful. I have yet to hear the song or a crest in full crestfulness, but it’s only a matter of time. 

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Thank you to everyone for your comments, cards, warm thoughts and flowers. They have been so  appreciated by us all here at Beauregard.

We have had two long, busy, odd weeks. Too busy to dwell too much, but plenty of time for memories, tears, laughter. We have seen people that we haven’t seen for years and been well supported by friends and family.

It is odd in the way that we have been immersed in sadness and shock, with so much love and support. We have had to remain calm and organised, in a chaotic and traumatic time. Communicating in woefully inadequate French, in a situation that has been emotional and frustrating. But we managed….

So thank you once again to all our friends….you have helped to make a sad situation much more bearable, less isolating and fraught. 

A light went out at Beauregard today and we have stumbled around in the dark all day.

Agen Hospital phoned this morning to say that Mum had died in the early hours.

Diddy has come home from school today with a page full of French tongue-twisters.

I thought I would share some with you…..you won’t be thanking me!

Now, with your best French accents, say the following, as fast as possible…..

• Six souris roses ont suserre que seize chats siamois ont chuchote cent six secrets chaque soir sans sourciller
• Pepin part pour Pampelune prendre perroquet pour Penelope
• Croc le croco croque la queue de Keke le criquet
• J’ai le houquet bilboquet passe la rue je ne l’ai plus!

This one has to be learnt by heart for Thursday…

• Tas de riz tas de rats, tas de riz tentant tas de rats tentes, tas de riz tentant tenta tas de rats tas de rats tentes tas de rats tentes tata tas de riz tentant

Not sure what they mean, (Google translate hasn’t helped much), so if anyone can throw some light on it….

FYI…in my English/French dictionary there are two translations of ‘tongue-twister’ into French: 1) ‘une phrase difficile a prononcer’ (’a phrase difficult to pronounce’ )….nah…boring!…. and 2) ‘une phrase a decrocher la machoire’ (’a phrase that dislocates/unhooks your jaw’)….much more interesting!

Have fun!

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Diddy had a girly day out on Saturday, with her friend, Hannah. They went to Bergerac, shopping with Hannahs Mum and did what girls do on tenth birthdays. A fun time was had by all.

Diddy did say though, that the clothes shop had a strange name for a clothes shop…Tati. I can only assume it is a subsidiary of Shmutters and Rags.

During my shop at Intermarche yesterday, I noticed a hair conditioner going by the name of ‘Bad Creme’….don’t think it would go down very well on the shelves at Sainsbury. Plus, a bright orange fizzy drink called ‘Diablo’….which is probably what our little angels turn into after one sniff. As for ‘Pshitt’….still going strong.

And on the way to Intermarche, I pass Mutant. I haven’t yet plucked up courage to do a shop there….the name’s just too off-putting!

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I nearly forgot…on the way through Tonneins, the town is decorated with, well, I’m not sure really. Lots of toy-art/paintings/sculptures. They are scattered about, on roundabouts, verges, central reservations, on the front of buildings. Little sack people, made of toy parts.

A good idea for rainy days and restless children!

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It was cold yesterday. Cold and windy and miserable.

And what does any self-respecting English family do on a cold, windy, miserable day? We go for a picnic.

It was all part of our visit to see Nana. She is at the Agen Hospital, quite a distance away. So we packed some eggy sandwiches, a flask of hot chocolate and some Agen prunes.

After the visit, we made our way to the canal that runs through that part of the city, found a bench, pulled up our hoods and started our picnic. We did get some funny looks from the passing joggers and cars, which we found highly amusing. We could imagine them saying….’Bet they’re English!’. And we didn’t disappoint. We finished just as the errant pigeons arrived to polish off the crumbs and set off for Aiguillon.

Aiguillon is at the confluence of the Garonne and the Lot. Stunning it is too. As you cross the bridge over the Lot, there is a spectacular view of the weir and two derelict mills. With the rain swelling the river recently, the level is high and the river wide and fast. Quite breathtaking.

 And it’s possible to get quite close!

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For those of you that like a bit of Cro-Magnon in your life (and who doesn’t!?) I came across this today.

Ok, it’s not exactly around the corner, but well worth a visit on the way down in the car.

And if it’s anything like the replica caves at Lascaux, it promises to be very impressive.

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Wearing their treasured sporty outfits, a Spurs football strip and a Pippa Funnel outfit, Diddy and The Boy, took part today in the Carnaval in Duras. The local schools all participated, with the theme being the Olympic Games. I can only assume it was to kick-start the Easter Week….no-one seemed to know when asked.

But a bright, colourful, slightly chaotic time was had by all. And to make matters even more hectic, it was market day. Undeterred, they whistled, chanted and clacked their way through the streets, tripping over each others flambeaux and flags.

There was a group of Maternelle children masquerading as Asterix the Gaul. My understanding is that he’s in the new Olympic sport of secret potion mixing, along with Marcel Wave and Le Pew pussy cat. But don’t take my word for it….

Easter Monday is the Fete d’Agneau, which involves a trip to church, a brocante and a loto in the evening, with a top prize of a side of beef and various other cuts of meat.

Last time we went to a loto, Mum won a couple of chickens. And very noisy they were too on the way home…..wonder if our luck’s in this time?

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I’m not sure what the official line is here in Lot et Garonne for the Herald of Spring. Cuckoos, migrating geese, the first blossom on the apricot tree, farmers harrowing their fields?

At Beauregard it is the first cut of the season…we’re talking grass of course. And today, we heralded spring with a short back and sides with the mower and tondeuse. The first of what will become a regular and not always welcome chore…

It smelt beautiful though, I must admit!

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