Monday 27 April 2015

Its that time of the year again

Well here we go again, tomorrow is my Birthday.  I will start the day by falling out of bed, grabbing my glasses and staggering out to make breakfast.  Then, after my shower, I will be rushing to the vets with three little kittens to be sterilised.  I then have to take my father to NOZ to buy a straw hat for the summer due to the fact he left his one in a restaurant in Brittany last year after a visit to the little boys room. I then have to try and get over to pick up some fence posts. The next job on the list is clearing out the dishwasher and filling it up again, feeding all the animals and spending the usual 30 minutes having a coffee with Dad.

After that I then have to make lunch for my son who comes home so hungry after a morning of mucking out loads of horses.  My thoughts for the afternoon is trying to cut the grass growing very tall around the fence with a pair of scissors.

I will probably try to squeeze in a spot of washing and if I am lucky I might get to watch another episode of Hart of Dixie which is a wonderful box set I am watching on Netflix.

So my Birthday looks like it will be a real doozy of a day and I possibly won't feel any older than I already do.

Happy Birthday Me
Balloons and bunting on the Funny Farm

Saturday 25 April 2015

Portrait News

Just thought I would share with you what I have been working on.  Just a couple of my latest portraits.




The beef burger test and stirrups

Well what a fun few weeks I have had.  As the lovely RSA finally agreed another year of health care and as usual it just leaves me 6 months before it has to be renewed again so I am rushing to get all my health checks done before it expires.

First on the list was a mammogram or as my dear Mum used to call it the beef burger test.  This nickname aptly describes the extent of the squash flatten and spread you go through with this test.

 Unlike the UK, in France you do not have two nurses for every test and you are led into a tiny cubicle no bigger than a postage stamp to de-robe.  Left standing in a 2ftx2ft room with nothing on you wait patiently for something to happen or someone to come and get you.  Finally you are led into another room with no windows in the middle of the building.  The lady jabbers on in medical French some of which I just answered no to without fully comprehending what she had said.  You are then forced into this machine while she tugs and pushes, pulls and squeezes you under these transparent plates.  When totally satisfied that she has most of you upper half wedged onto a plate she then shouts out 'do not breath'.  The plates then come together squashing your breast and most of your shoulder stomach and side until you think it might come unattached.  Holding your breath while marveling at how you never knew your breast could become a metre long and half a metre wide you continue to hold your breath.  She then shouts to you to breath again and you take in a long breath while watching the plates depart from one another and your beef burger breast then makes an effort to regain its original shape!  This happened 4 more times and finally she said just sit there and wait.  So there you are again with nothing on sitting waiting in a room with no windows and wondering who decided on the various colours on walls (orange, green, blue).  Suddenly a man in a white coat bursts through the door and tells you to put your arms above your head and put your elbows towards him and he proceeds to pummel and rub your breast in all directions until satisfied that he could feel nothing.  In a blink of an eye he says wonderful and disappears leaving you actually wondering if it really happened or not.

My second test was the dreaded cervical smear test, which is usually done in a clinical area with two nurses and over in a second.  Well this is France so I go into town to find the place which isn't a purpose built building but a little run down house with a small door in need of a paint.  I tentatively ring the bell and walk in only to be greeted by a long dark hallway with nothing to direct me to the place I need to go.  Getting up the courage I walk along the long dark corridor, turn the corner and find a little lady sitting behind a desk.  Relieved I ask, in my best French for an appointment and hand her the letter from my Dr.  She tells me to take a seat and there I sit for 30 minutes.  I then get called in to an office where a little man in a red suit and cap, red cheeks and a yellow tie is sitting.  He tells me to sit down and then goes into fast paced french asking me all sorts of medical questions none of which I understood.  After a while he gives up and tell me to go into the back room and get undressed!! I was just expecting to get an appointment and was getting the picture that I was about to have it there and then.  Not being prepared I was wearing my best knickers which had no elastic and were held up by good will and a hole in the side where the seam was falling apart.  Whipping them off quickly I sat on the table, he came in still wearing his hat but now with the added bonus of some purple rubber gloves! Sticking my legs in the stirrups he got to work.  Every few seconds he stuck his head up from between my legs with a massive smile and sticking his thumb in the air as if to say everything's OK!!! He then told me in his best English that I was a very good menopausal woman!   The strangest appointment I have ever had.

I do wonder what the French would think of the UK's rules of always having a chaperon when having any kind of examination as it clearly isn't an issue here.

Never a dull moment living on the Funny Farm.