The Big Snow 28 Feb 2018

Yesterday we had the heaviest snow fall since I can remember, and I've been here for more than two decades.

It started when I was at work. We didn't worry, it was supposed to turn to rain in the afternoon. As midday approached, it showed absolutely no signs of turning to rain. The temperature stayed obstinately low and the warm air from the south was stuck out in the Med somewhere.

View from my window at work at 11.30 am

People started leaving. I hung on for a bit hoping for things to improve, but finally at 1.30 pm it was leave or risk not leaving because obviously I had left my tyre chains at home thinking that as usual, the Orange Snow Alert would be exaggerated.

It wasn't, so I brushed the 10 cm or so of snow off my car and crept out onto the road. It was actually not too bad if taken carefully. I made it to the bottom of my road, a steep hill, and parked. There were no tyre marks going up the hill and I knew there was no hope of success.

Near my house at 2.30pm

I climbed the hill, got home and immediately dug out my fluo pink ski suit, snow boots, and gloves, found the plastic sledge I'd bought when the boys were younger (which coincided with the last time we went sledging...) in the garage and went back out to sledge down the hill. I wasn't the only one out. There were kids throwing snowballs with their parents, and bigger kids attacking each other.

After lunch, I went to find my sledge which I'd left outside, but my son had taken it, so found the old sledge that I'd had when I was a child. It hadn't been used since a feeble attempt on a thin layer of soggy snow some years back which it proved too heavy for. The several centimetres of dry snow was perfect for it, however.

My old sledge which had been red but was repainted by my dad years ago and not been used since

It took some steering, but eventually I got the hang of it, and instead of banging systematically into the snowy kerb, I got all the way down the hill, slight bend included by using my feet. I felt quite the Winter Olympic Luge champion, as there I was flat on my back on the sledge dashing feet-first down a steep hill. Fun!

I was the only adult on a sledge, to the embarrassment of my eldest. One of his friends skied down the slope, others used my other sledge, and then they went off. I'm not sure if this was in the natural progression of things or to get away from an embarrassing mother on the instigation of my son.

This morning, March 1, the snow has started to melt and is already too deep, soft and soggy for the old sledge, the the modern plastic one has not reappeared. Good thing I made the most of it yesterday!

For more pictures of Montpellier and the region in the snow, the local newspaper, Midi Libre, posted a good selection sent in by readers here.

A Kitchen-Sink Post

Here's a round-up of odds and sods.

Family
It was my eldest's 18th birthday last Sunday (28th). He went out the night before, blew most of his birthday money and as a result had a quiet day on Sunday which included a mega treat of a KFC take-away lunch... He decided on a birthday dinner of roast chicken at 4pm despite me asking him regularly since the previous day (Me: "Do you want a birthday roast chicken dinner?" Him: "Dunno, I may eat out."). Naturally, not having already obtained a response, the organic chicken was still in the freezer. I got it out, chucked it in the oven on 'defrost' mode, then prised it apart to cut into pieces, chucked them in the microwave to defrost faster, and actually managed to dish up a fully cooked roast chicken (pieces) by 8pm. I was sorry to treat it in such a cavalier way, but 18th birthdays don't happen every day...

Montpellier under water. Photo Midi Libre

Weather
You may have seen on the tele the torrential rain and flooding in Montpellier at the beginning of the week. We got five months of rain in three hours. On Monday lunch time, I took my son to the tram station to go to lectures. Mistake. It was already pissing down and the roads were awash. I had very little petrol (35km worth) and had to get to work so really didn't want to be travelling much. I got to work after a very scary drive only to hear not long after that all lectures were cancelled and he was stranded in town because the buses and trams were no longer running.

Luckily it was the end of our fiscal year at work and manic, so I couldn't go to his rescue even if I'd wanted to, and a good thing too, because the roads became rivers and people were having to leave their cars stranded where they broke down. I would have been caught up in all that, and been stranded too.

In the end, he walked with a friend to the tram station where I'd left him, in the pouring rain, and got a lift back. His new computer was fighting for its life overnight drying out... It hiccuped to life the next day, thank goodness.

Vitamin D
The world wide recommended dose for vitamin D3 is 1400 to 2000 UI per day, with a maximum of 10,000. In France, it's 200 UI. Why the difference? Because of a calculation error by the Conseil (not so-)supérieur d'hygiene publique de France (CSHPF), the people tasked with deciding on the dose. Instead of fixing 10,000 as a maximum dose (like in the rest of the world), they calculated it as 1,000. D'oh. The result is that vitamin D3 is only sold in capsules of 200 UI which means you have to take at least five to get the right dose.

It's important, because three out of four people are deficient in vitamin D, and this is a shame because vitamin D helps prevent and treat some cancers, auto-immune diseases (multiple scleroses, diabetes I), depression, fractures, and infections like the flu.

I've just ordered some vitamin D3 for us all in the form of drops because it's easier to take five drops rather than five capsules.

Food supplements
I'm very excited because they have all been ordered and are due to be delivered from tomorrow. I had to wait until this month to order them due to the financial strain of September. The ones I already had have been excellent in improving the quality of my sleep (rhadiola and magnesium). I've been eating a quarter of pomegranate every day for my breakfast too as their juice is very good for balancing women's hormones. I'd eat more, but they cost a fortune each!

Cooking
My naturopathic doctor gave me a recipe for rice flour bread which I decided to try the other day. It contained rice flour, buckwheat flour, some oat flour, olive oil, an egg, bicarb, and water. She said to put it in the oven at 130°C for half an hour. I was dubious but followed her instructions. Well, of course it wasn't cooked and it tasted quite disgusting. I'm sure there's an error in there somewhere... must email and ask!

Snows of March

Freak weather caused snow in the South of France in March today. The last time it snowed with anything like the same vigour was in 1993.

I live on a steep slope so am easily marooned by snow, black ice and other severe conditions. Happily work rang to say we were all to stay at home, and as I couldn't get the car out onto the 20cm snow, I couldn't take my eldest to school (which was probably shut anyway) so they both had an extra weekend day.

This morning we got out the sledge and went whooping down the slope, and chucked snowballs about. I was trying to aim at the boys, but I'm a hopeless shot so they didn't have much to fear.

Out on the main road, pine trees were suffering under the weight of snow, and some, which had been leaning dramatically as it was, just split down onto the road and had to be cut back. Luckily, away from parked cars.

It started last night after we came back from a sunny but nippy day at a mountain bike competition near Montagnac. The boys had been racing about the Base de Bessilles which is a lovely spot with much to interest walkers and mountain bikers, and those who just want to hang out near a lake and chuck a steak on a communal barbecue. Later in the year...

I was exhausted as I'd been having a jolly time with me mates until 2am and had had to get up at 7am to make sarnies, put the bikes on the car rack, and ensure we were all present and correct. It started off sunny but with a nippy wind. Inside the car was lovely and warm and, after standng about freezing during the trial bike stage I couldn't resist a snooze after lunch while the boys went off to check the course. Maternal duty kicked in after a bit fortunately, and I managed to wake up in time to see my two race in their different age groups.

It was nearing 6pm when we got home and the odd flake-like white stuff was flying about but was far from being what you'd call a snow storm. That came on around 8pm and by 9 it was lying thick and fast. It's been a funny old winter for weather, but I think we've now had enough, and are ready for Spring. My daffodils and tulip green tips certainly are.

Hot Crap

Bugger me it's hot already! Hot and heavy, today, like there's going to be a thunder storm although Meteo France gives no mention of one.

This morning I sat and sweated at the local flea market with my fwend C. I shouldn't have been there, I should have been at the mountain bike competition at Laudun but my eldest who is accident prone when it comes to bikes, squashed his foot against the pavement yesterday and is now one of the walking wounded. So my youngest went off with another dad, and I stayed home and was thus able to sit and sweat at the flea market.

I took 2 items to sell, and sold... neither. Not surprising really seeing as there were very few people walking around, and this was not surprising seeing as there had been hardly any advertising done. Only locals knew about it, and they are not necessarily the ones who want to buy their neighbours' crap. I had a mooch around the stalls but saw nothing that grabbed me as a 'must have' item.

Anyway, I'm on an economy drive after paying for my teeth, and anticipating paying for the repairs on my car. I had a call from the garage on Friday with a quote for new parts. It made me laugh, so the guy asked me if it was what I was expecting to pay. Not quite... it was equivalent to the value of the car! No, I want to pay MUCH less than that!

So I've borrowed an old 205 and am well grateful to have it, but it is a tad old and mucky. To make it look like an action car, I've fixed the bike rack to it. Now it looks like I use it to do interesting outdoor stuff like have adventures.

My youngest has taken to going off on adventures. He dons his combat coat, plastic safety glasses, a WWI plastic 'tin' helmet, packs a sarnie and some water into a backpack and goes off with the walkie talkie and a rifle slung over his shoulder. Every now and then, he calls in to give his position, the position of the enemy and ask for instructions. It's quite hilarious, but he does it perfectly seriously. Sometimes he takes his pal, and sometimes he goes off on his bike. A free spirit, that one.

This evening it's cooled down, thank goodness. We may be in for a scorching summer!

Buried Treasure

Thankfully, the severe gales over the weekend didn't really get as far as Montpellier. We had strong gusts as I noticed on Saturday during my fruitless bicycle pursuit but nothing compared to the 160kmp/hr winds further west.

As a result of the gales, thousands of homes are without electricity. In January. Trees brought down lines and it'll take several days before the current can be switched on again. What a nightmare that must be! Everything now works with electricity. Even gas central heating. The only people who are warm are those with oil-filled portable fires.

If it were me, I'd be freezing already having no alternative heating, or more likely, I'd have jumped in the car and driven off to squat with friends, or the train for an impromptu few days in the UK. Providing I could drive out of the village, that is. One of the main problems facing the south west is the blocked access of roads due to fallen trees. The army was out today with chain saws cutting their way through and clearing branches and trunks.

It beggars the question though, why doesn't EDF bury electricity lines? It seems entirely unreasonable that in a developed country like France people are at the mercy of a bit of wind which forces them to endure winter temperatures without heating for days on end.

It would indeed require investment, but then high speed broadband wires are being laid all over the country, so why can't electricity lines be laid too? They would no longer be at the mercy of the weather, and France doesn't have an earthquake problem, so it makes perfect sense. It would also be a lot less unsightly. Remember the comment made by the director of 'La Gloire de mon Pere' (was it?) (Claude Berry) who said he wanted the first shot to be of the Marseillais garrigue in a 360° panorama and it took them ages to find a spot that wasn't blighted by electricity pylons.

It should be a priority to get the cables buried, and reduce the risk of a whole region being brought to a standstill because they have no juice. Get the EDF chiefs to experience being without their precious resource for a week or so in freezing temperatures and I can guarantee that they'd start digging with their bare hands if that's what it took to get things moving!

They've made us totally dependent, now they have to assume their responsibilities to keep us juiced up!

Rage de Tomate

I'm feeling off-kilter with things at the moment. It's supposed to be Spring, which means I have stuff to do in the garden, stuff to clear out of the garage, and stuff to do on my book.

Unfortunately, despite the sunshine, the wind was blowing in directly from the Siberian steppe and the only thing I had any desire to do was hunker down beneath something warm and do nothing. I tried to be dynamic, honest! I took the boys down to the cycle circuit this morning, wrapped in hoodie and ski jacket and sat facing the sun so at least I might get a healthy glow even if I was a shivering wreck.

I had to get petrol after lunch, and in a wave of efficiency, decided to go to Botanic as well to get tomato seeds/plants. It seems in fact I'm a bit early for tomato plants for the summer, so I got annoyed that I'm too early and that the trip was going to prove to be a waste of time (and dynamism). I looked at seed packets and got even crosser. The blurb described the size and colour of the tomato, but not the taste. What's the point of growing your own toms if it's not to be guaranteed a tomato with TASTE? Good grief, I don't care what it looks like as long as it doesn't taste like a bland mushy piece of crap like the ones in the supermarket.

I was getting ready to stomp out in disgust when I realised that changes had been made in the shop, and there is now a massive area devoted to organic produce and even a little eatery. Mollified, my youngest and I made an in-depth study of all on sale, and bought a bag of cart-wheels pasta (at his request) (last of the big spenders...). The prices were generally on the upper side of high as you can imagine. Still, it was something new, and helped me forget my tomato rage.

After all the excitement, however, and freezing weather, I eschewed all further prospect of working outside, hunkered down beneath a warm furry blanket and watched 'Icon' on DVD while the boys did their own thing.

So I didn't need to worry about planting tomatoes yet. It's too early. Clearly, I should do my homework, then I'd actually know what I was doing...

One day... perhaps...

TGO - St Laurent le Minier

Today is Father's Day and we decided to go out for a picnic, the boys being, suitably, with their father, leaving the way open to make such decisions without risk of moaning, whinging or sulking. Not that they don't like going off on adventures, but they prefer to do it under their own steam, with their friends.

So, where to go? Yesterday, I had a browse around the internet and came up with a lovely photo taken from St Laurent le Minier in the Gard, not far from Ganges. It looked just right with lots of sunshine, rocks, river, old bridge and happy people having fun. Waking up today, clouds covered the sky and it looked ominously like rain.

Still, being British, with memories of sitting in the car at the seaside looking out onto torrential rain lashing the sea whilst eating sandwiches with the windows misting inexorably up, we decided to go anyway. We packed a nice ploughman's lunch with crusty bread, cheddar, tomatoes from the garden, Branston pickle, pickled onions, sweet onions of Lezignan, rosé wine and crisps. You might think that living in France with all the wonderful cheeses on offer that it was a disgrace that we took a nice lump of cheddar, but quite frankly, you can't make a ploughman's with French cheese. That would be a 'déjeuner du laboureur' which doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?

Off we set, the clouds getting heavier and darker as we made our way inland and towards the Cevennes. Arriving at Ganges, we crossed over the river towards St Laurent le Minier and about 5km later came to a lovely bridge with people standing by their cars talking and looking at us. We went past them, not really realising that that was THE spot, and drove on into the village. It was a bit depressed, as well it might, as the zinc mines closed down just after the Great War. The general air of abandon wasn't helped by a steady dribble of rain, so we went straight through and came out the other side back to the main road.

Driving back, we came to the bridge again, and the people not being there to stare, decided to stop and have a look. The rain also stopped, which meant we could get out and discover, to our joy, picnic tables and a fantastic view. We took the driest table and set out our lunch under the trees which provided enough protection from any slight downpour.

Looking around, we noticed some young folk taking close-ups with super cameras (they had big flashes...) of various natural features. The rock formations there are very interesting, made up of layers which have been eroded into platforms which would be great fun to jump on when the water goes down.

We watched an extended family over the other side of the river come and set up camp. Considering the weather, they didn't seem to be awfully bright as they spurned any form of cover, out in the open. It took them about ten minutes to lay out all the floor covers and bits and bob, set up the barbeque and start cooking.

Then it started raining again, unsurprisingly. They braved it out for a while, then gave up and started the task of gathering everything up and taking it to a spot beneath the trees. I don't quite know when they were planning to eat, because it was by now gone 2pm, and the tiny barbie wasn't even smoking, and there were at least 10 adults, with half a dozen kiddies!

We thought we had arrived late at around 1.15pm, but with the extended family, there arrived quite a few other groups/families trying to find a spot to set up their picnic. Some sat under the arches of the magnificent bridge and aquaduct, others joined us at the picnic spot where there were 3 other tables. Eventually, we had finished and felt sorry enough for the people at the next table trying to light their disposable barbie on the only remaining table which was exposed to the elements, and packed up our things.

We mooched across the bridge to take in the views, and to the pitter patter of rain on the camera, we headed back to the car and left the brave picnickers to their fate. I did manage to get a picture of what I imagine was the former mine owner's chateau and very nice it looked too, if a little worn.

As a picnic spot, St Laurent le Minier is fabulous, although I imagine it gets pretty busy in the summer, and the waterfall is much less impressive. Definitely one to go back to, though, and comes highly recommended.

Is it wet out, luv?

I had been thinking of making Jamie Oliver's Toad in the Hole this evening. I'd got a nice piece of sausage crying out for the Toad treatment. Unfortunately we'd used up all the eggs. Necessity being the mother of invention, we had steak instead.

The boys were high with excitement this morning hoping, since we are on an Orange weather Alert, for a meteorological catastrophe. In which case they wouldn't have had to go to school. They have simple wishes. We're in the middle of September storms with dramatic thunder, modem-unfriendly lightning and torrential rain. The news this evening had evidence of excessive water all across the south of France. It made me wonder about a friend of mine who is doing the vendange near Beziers in a tent.

Living on a slope, it gets very exciting. Water hurtles down to the bottom where, if the drains aren't blocked, it disappears, or, if the drains are blocked, pours straight into the houses in its way. I had looked at one of those houses to rent and wondered what would happen... I don't think it has yet, but you never know...

Streams turn into angry rivers charging, swirling, tumbling dangerously along ditches until they inevitably overflow onto flood plains which hopefully have not been built upon. The rain carries with it debris from trees, gravel, branches, sand, rubbish and so on and deposits it neatly in the middle of roads, or blocks drainage channels, causing even more flooding and chaos. If you're home and dry and in no danger, it makes for an entertaining view.

The number of times I've had to nurture my car through inches of water on the road, praying the it doesn't conk out on me and leave me stranded with a mobile phone whose battery is invariably low, doesn't bear thinking about. I'm now quite the pro at negotiating flooded roads through sheet rain.

Blind, with one hand tied behind my back and balancing a biro on my nose...