Missed opportunity

Closed due to a lack of water

It has been a hard year in Australia for farmers, and western Queensland has been particularly touched. To me, a city girl, one rainfall this year, and that back in March, seems bewildering, yet this was the reality for some. Water restrictions in past years have reduced the length of my showers and elongated our evening routine as my husband and I set about transferring our children's bathwater, one bucket at a time, onto our garden. In those years, the lawn and the car both got browner and talk turned to re-designing gardens with drought-resistant plants. These inconveniences are almost embarrassing to divulge when compared to the struggle of trying to keep stock alive and crops growing without water.

It seems, though, that as well as a good bit of luck, the thing that gets most farmers through these difficult times is a positive attitude and a knowledge that, even separated by hundreds of kilometres as they often are, they are part of a strong community.

I was delighted, therefore, to learn of a project that recounted- no- more than that, celebrated the lives of some of these farmers. And, I was even more delighted to learn that the book, as that was what the project became, highlighted the strength, determination and courage of women farmers.

Unfortunately, this was short-lived when I saw the title of the publication. Cattlemen, it could be argued, refers to both women and men, like actor covers actors and actresses of yore. But, 'Cattlemen in Pearls' - that, to me is just wrong. It reduces, again, the exploits of women to something superficial. I am an admirer of Australia's former Deputy Leader of the Liberal Party and ex-Minister for Foreign Affairs, Julie Bishop. In a recent speech, she said what this title makes me feel "if you're trying to be a man, it's a waste of a woman". The book, a brilliant opportunity to inspire and educate, leads off, instead, by representing competent Australian women as dressed-up men.

Low levels in the Annecy Lake

The Annecy Lake suffered in the very hot last summer and is at its lowest level for 70 years. The edge of the lake near Annecy looks like a sandy beach, with boats and pedalos for hire lying on their sides, families strolling in spots where normally they would be swimming and a drop in the water level of between 60 and 70 cm in places.

How to remain optimistic when things don't seem to be normal is a challenge. Sometimes, I agree, getting dressed up and going out is a good antidote to worrying. But, I can assure you, if I owned any, that it would not be by donning my pearls that I would be expressing my womanhood.

In good times at the Annecy Lake

Our French story, "But you are in France, Madame' available here

One sip at a time. Learning to live in Provence - Book review

At 192 pages, this is a quick read that will be appreciated by all who live a French life, dream of French living or who are intending to travel to France. Interspersed with pretty line drawings, the chapters could stand alone as short tales or blog entries from three of Keith's visits to France. The anecdotes are told as they were lived and will draw a wry smile from those who have experienced the rigidity of French rules and the mountains of paperwork that accompany their application, the insouciant flaunting of road speed limits in France and the uncomfortable transformation of sleepy Provençal villages into tourist nests in July and August. 

No barn is bought and no marriage break-down is lamented, which in itself is slightly unusual in this genre, but it is clear that Keith has an affinity with the French lifestyle and is determined to make a success of his visits. As a French language teacher myself, it was lovely to read both of Keith's determination to learn French and the way he went about this. The last section of the book is a set of resources for learners of the French language and includes how to find language partners and helpful websites, newspapers and television programs.

 "Voyager, ce n'est pas seulement changer de pays ; c'est changer de voyageur, se transformer" (R. Sabatier). I like this and I think Keith would recognise himself in this quote. On a more frivolous note,  I really like the dedication that Keith's wife Val received and about which he wrote. 

 To find out more, you'll just have to go to Amazon here to read the book!

Keith's blog can be found here

Escape to France

I am sharing with you today the latest press release for my book 'But you are in France, Madame' and in my next blog, I will be reflecting on a few personal milestones that I have passed since pressing the 'publish button' one year ago.

PS If you are interested in purchasing a copy of the book, there is a clickable link to the right of this blog page which will take you to the purchasing options. Thanks, as always, for your interest.

Kindle version of Catherine's book, But you are in France, Madame - now available

After a short stint as a Frenchman in my first print edition, Julius Caesar has regained his rightful nationality in the newly released Kindle version of my book !

Please check out the link below.

http://butyouareinfrancemadame.blogspot.com.au/p/book.html

It's Done !

The book "But you are in France, Madame" is now published and available for sale from Blurb as a softcover print book or an ebook for ipad via the link below.. I hope you enjoy it.

http://au.blurb.com/search/site_search?search=but+you+are+in+france+madame&filter=all&commit=Search

At the collège for a parent-teacher interview, I met my daughter outside in the courtyard and she showed me up to her classroom. Her teacher was busy chatting, so we waited patiently in the corridor. When he did come out, he indicated that the meeting would take place downstairs and headed off with us in tow.

Before sitting down, I introduced myself using my first name, and put out my hand to be shaken. He mumbled back his full name as he took my hand, although I suspect he would have been shocked if I had actually dared use it. By this stage, I had already understood that teachers did not expect to be questioned about their practices. Of course, I did—question him, that is; politely and almost deferentially. There was a slight pause, as he dipped his head to better digest what he had heard. Then, with the assurance of a perfect, unarguable answer, he replied, “But you are in France, Madame”.

Some months before, my husband, three children and I had casually unzipped and discarded our comfortable Australian lifestyle and slipped on life in the country of haute couture. On arrival, there was no celebrity designer waiting for us, ready to pin and fit our new life to us; so we threw it on and wore it loosely, tightly, uncomfortably, any old how—until we learned for ourselves how to trim, hem and stitch à la française. This book is testament to the joyous, but not always easy, journey that we took along the way.