Turning the page....

Back to my weekly teaching spot in the village school; like many a village no one in sight at 9.00am in the morning, except a curious ambling cat and a solitary baguette buyer. I rattled the rusty bolt on the old school gates to cross the yard with the trepidation that always fills me after an enforced absence, back in the UK. Its been an even longer gap, some six months, due to  my elderly mother dying and  some medical issues, so like all first days there is anxiety.

Door open and faced with sixteen smiling, anticipatory faces, a jolly 'Bonjour Md Machin' from the Maîtresse and I was back in my natural habitat, at ease and happy.

Now the lesson today was, on the maîtresses request the initial one to a theme about  different school activities and equipment. I had planned a lesson looking at key equipment found in their pencil cases and the prompt sheet I had produced was to aid their visual memory with the final written exercise.

I try to teach much of the lesson in English, so the children can get practice in both, listening to and speaking with,a native speaker. But for instructions I have to  use French to confirm what I want them to do when it comes to any written or read work.
So, when I asked them to make sentences based on the key nouns in the photos on the  prompt sheet I asked" Ouvez votre cahier anglaise et ecrivez". Simple and understood but the problem was that they immediately stuck the sheet into their notebooks and wrote on the next page, which for some meant turning over to write the responses. Now this had a duel result; for some  it instantly made the task more difficult because they had to memorise the key spellings, where as others had an easier task and  for those who had to memorise the whole word, it meant they had the advantage later in recalling that word.
I think in England the majority of pupils would not have stuck the prompt sheet in first, unless specifically told to do so, & hence would have found the easier way. But my small French class (mixed ability aged 7 to 11) all stuck the sheet in and it was pure chance which page they stuck it in hence,for some it was more  difficult and some a more easy the task.

The result was a confusion between them as some of the younger or less able completed the work faster or more accurately simply because the sheet was constantly visible to them, they didn't need to keep turning the page over & back. The maîtresse too was confused, then she said she thought this was a very clever teaching way and that it made the children think and work harder....what my Granny would have called, 'all that sense and little nouse'.

So working on the accidental development of visual work memory I decided to extend this. We'd looked at the  'pen, pencil, pencil case, pencil sharpener, coloured pencil' compound words so I thought I'd extend the 'paintbrush'...'brush, hairbrush, sweeping bush, toothbrush, paint bush', to help them remember. Now these do have a link with the action 'Brosse' in French but sadly I started with the wrong one. So 'Brosse, brosse a cheveaux, brosse a balayage, brosse a dents' all fine, but paint brush no, 'pinceau'....hence I had a class of blank faces looking at me, not so good.

And as if that was not sufficient I decided, for reasons beyond the wit of man, to get them to breakdown the word 'Paint'. The ideas was for them to see 'Pain' the French word for bread, but this didn't really work. Then suddenly one of them registered and sai, in English, "Oui Madame...you cant eat paint you can eat pain"...I know but that's was their  primary humour.
I should have quit while the going was good, but no, I thought I'd point out that 'pain ' is also a word in English; pain = douleur, something is painful, it hurts.
In order to explain this I acted  the stubbing of a toe, the banging of my thumb, a bad headache....all with sound effects.

Now French classrooms, particularly in  sleepy villages are quite quiet affaires, with set work and steady outcomes, so now both the children and the teacher were aghast at my antics. And just when I thought I'd lost it, I was saved by a flash of infantile humour "I love 'du pain', but its a 'pain' to eat 'paint'. Result laughter all round & much nodding of heads, who says the French don't have a sense of humour!!

Returning home I received up a copy of the French English-Language  newspaper, 'Connections' and chanced on an article by a Nick Inman about learning a language. A brilliant piece of prose and one phrase in particular jumped out at me and summed up my day,
"There are many varieties of French....The opposite of 'perfect' is not 'incorrect', it is 'creative' "

Oh and to finish my school day, just as I left the teacher handed me  a set of hand made and coloured Christmas cards that the children had made. Over four months on from the event  it all seemed a little bizarre, but by all their smiling faces and then later reading their written sentiments I realised it really didn't matter...they'd got creative too

Something different....Fresnay Grange

My submission to a local Franco Anglo newspaper: What makes your house unique in 250 words

Fresnay Grange French & Family History:

It started with a small child and an old man.

“Tell me again Gramp”; the story of a pink granite farmhouse in the hollow and a pretty young lady called Irene. A young dispatch rider, missing in action and sheltered, he fell in love. The girl knew every detail the buildings, the kitchen, its range, the pewter jugs and brass candlesticks

Then came Le Fresnay a pink granite farm and barn & the girl remembered. The old barn was the original house; there was the hearth and the chimney space, the low walls of the first thatch, it all fitted.

So began our renovation of Fresnay Grange and every step was one history. All the work respecting the builders of 300 years ago and  the detail honouring the stewardship. The mantle had those candles & jugs via vide greniers, the stairs of local oak and the hearth stones relaid again.  There is a spirit to our house, we call him Pierre and imagine him as an old  French farmer. There’s no ghost it’s the spirit of the very stones, the privilege of rediscovering , reinhabiting & those stories from long ago.

And it’s a homage to the story of that old man, who never forgot that French family and later named his daughter, Irene, after the girl he had met. That daughter named me, an old French name, Pauline.

My Grandfather can’t tell me the stories now, but as I look across the farmyard, history lives and I smile.

The House of the Three Bears

After several weeks of teaching 'English Fairy Stories' and much fun, my final lesson of the summer term was based on the story of, Goldilocks & The Three Bears'.

A simple story at first thought, it would seem. A more complex one, linguistically as ; 'eating, sitting, sleeping, more than, bigger, smaller, who has' are all concepts requiring comprehension. Then finally, there is the social dimension of a young girl lost in the forest, breaking into a house, causing wilful damage and finally falling asleep in a strangers bed...now that's all a little bizarre.

Ok visual props i.e. 3 bears, class chanting, a story peg line and even a little drama...I finally got the story going. But you're never certain that the children have fully grasped the language or if you've totally developed all the spoken opportunities. But this time I got an unexpected check; a living recount of a lesson well learned.

You see on the last day of the school year, in our small village, the children all walk the boundaries. Akin to the old English ways of walking the parish boundaries, these lively 7 to 10 year olds walk the 'bourg' boundaries. They follow the traditional footpaths around the locality bordering the two villages which feed into the small school.

Knowing this was happening and ,that their walk would go up the 'randonnee' beside our land, and directly in front of our house, I decided on a small surprise. I made a name plate for the farmhouse, 'The Cottage of the Three Bears' and sat said , three bears, proudly outside to await the children's arrival.

Their response to such a small action was wonderful, squeals of surprise and a torrent  of English; phrases, words and sentences. This was a lessen review like no other. Better than any Ofsted comment or peer assessed note. If I'd had any doubts as to their understanding it was vanquished by their vocal outpouring. Munching away on their 'bear sweets' (Gummy Bears) and clasping the small gifts (Winnie the Pooh notepads of course), they left in a hail of, "Goodbye Madame, see you next year".

It seems that this story, like all of its genre, had its own  happy ending. This time I was the, 'Goldilocks' and their English language skills, will live, 'happily ever after'.

Liberty, Equality, Fraternity and Pigs

Not been back to France since January and have had three weeks of catching up with jobs, entertaining Art Guests and enjoying the easy pace and ambience of French living.

But there comes a point at which you realise you have to start upping the  pace and get back to contributing to the village and, the way I do that best is through my weekly teaching visits to the local primary school. Its only an hour a week, but I like to do the very best I can and fit in with the school day and curriculum.

Hence I sent an e mail to Madame the maitresse telling her the dates that I could attend and asking what topic she wanted me to cover. Now I have to explain that this is not a joint lesson, no team teaching or shared planning, she simply takes my copy of the lesson plan and gets on with her paper work, only contributing if I ask something specific. Her written reactions are much like her verbal ones so I was not surprised when the initial email reply was somewhat curt. Apparently the timetable has changed and they now go swimming on Tuesdays, which was my previous allotted day. Fair enough I'll do  Mondays same time I thought? Second e mail response, no that time clashes with dance! OK give me a day & time and what topic you want me to cover till June.

Now that's when the real trouble started, because she asked for 'histoire anglaise' plus pronunciation & comprehension of simple texts. Wow I thought, there's only four Mondays left this month, one of which is a national holiday and she wants me to teach the entire English History to 7~11 year olds in three hours. My mind was racing; what were the key points, I must do justice to our complex history, how can I put all that into simple text? I spent a  night considering how and which of the stories of Boudica, Roman Britain,the Magna Carta, Religion & Empire, the Industrial Revolution or two World Wars (to name but a few) I could compress into an understandable text for 'les eleves'. Ignoring the comments of my husband  to, start with Agincourt and explain how certain parts of France really belonged to the English throne, I finally came to the conclusion the task was impossible in the timescale allotted. So I e mailed again & explained that the topic of English History was 'enorme' and suggesting I could do something about the different countries within the UK and the regions.

She replied the next day that she understood and could I teach,  'd'une histoire d'un livre' . Now here's where my second mistake was made. Now 'livre can mean book or pound (as in weight or old currency) so I took her to mean she wanted  either a potted history of currency or worse still a three week topic around key literary books in English history? ! A spent a night scouring my brain to decide which were the key authors of our magnificent literary history, or how much I knew about the history of our currency. Dreams with Shakespeare and Dickens arguing about coinage or weights & measures followed, leaving  me even more confused.Finally, the next morning , a further mail arrived giving me times and clarifying what she really meant.

In French there are what teachers of this fine language call ' faux friends', these  are words in two or more  languages, that look or sound similar, but differ significantly in meaning. For example, in English you go to a library to borrow books, but  in French a 'Librairie' is a bookshop. Similarly,'L'hotel de Ville', does not accommodate passing tourists wanting a bed for the night but is the municipal town hall. Most extreme of these faux friends is 'gymnasium; which refers to 'a place of education' in German and 'a place for physical education' in English, where as in its Greek origin it meant 'a place for naked exercise'...not to be confused. And 'livre' in French can mean book, pound (weight) or pound( money)

So my 'histoire' and 'livre' were faux friends, she neither wanted me to teach English history or the history of books or money, but children's stories and for them to read & understand simple texts. Clarified and relieved I acknowledged her e mail and agreed the dates.All this before I even set foot in 'l'ecole'.

How to move from 'Magna Carta' to 'Three Little Pigs' in one sentence, well I suppose it all the same really ; all about power, corruption, security for everyday people and words.

What was it my husband said once about this wonderful language? "I think French is like half empty boxes but you never sure what's  in them"...well mine were definitely half empty!

Bretegne v Brittany.... Keep learning

I write two very different blogs; this one, 'French Chalk',  about my experiences in France, in particular in relation to teaching & education, and the other ' The Grey Jigsaw', about my personal journey through & with cancer.

These are quite disparate blogs, but just once in a while the two overlap and what occurs in one is relevant and applies in the other. And his occurred this week on a visit to one of my cousins and his wife, who now live permanently in Brittany, France.

Now to explain I have to give you some background, if you like set the scene. This cousin is one of two brothers, who I am close to from my home town of Gosport in Hampshire and both brothers now own property in Brittany. Starting with a big renovation job of a country cottage over years and now a further renovation of a village town house. They have worked together, played together and holidayed together and in 2015 the eldest one decided to settle permanently in France.

Now this is a big move for anyone, with the arrangements, the legal stuff, the systems, the language and the culture, but for my cousin  and his wife this was an even bigger step as he is diagnosed with Parkinson's and she has longstanding health problems.

We arrived for our stay excited but unsure how they would be coping, its a tall order to take such a big step and challenge yourself, but what an amazing thing they have done. The house is a delight and made so homely, the plans are afoot for work and they are slowly but surely getting embedded in the local community; learning French and joining groups, it great to see!

We visited the area and its delights; had coffee in it village bars, ate in a local restaurant and puzzled at the signs written dually  in French & Breton. We had three days of pleasure in a very different part of France, a real holiday on holiday, it was lovely.

So what has this to do with education or cancer, well its all about determination and  belief. They have not sat back and thought , 'we can't do anything', ' we have to just put up with what life has dealt', no they are up and fighting. Its not easy, but they are taking on a new life and moving forward, brilliant. They are not accepting the limitations, they are seeking solutions and adapting to a new way of being.

Children learn & accept they won't get it all right, but keep trying. They immerse themselves in what needs to be done, seek solutions and eagerly engage in change. There is a fundamental conflict underlying learning; starting with not understanding and driven by and desire to comprehend, to reach stasis. The old adage that, 'conflict causes change'' is the leading reason we are motivated to learn or retract from learning. We are curious, want to conform, mature  or understand, solve a problem or feel an emotion, but all too often we let this drive stall and seek to withdraw. The young of all kinds are  endlessly drawn on, continually curious and want to grow, they are hard wired to learn.

So how great to see my cousin and his wife, despite all the problems and strains choosing to grow, to step out and question the world, make a new life, progress.
What's that other adage, oh yes........If you are not moving forward you are going backwards. And as my cousin said, "Its not me , its everyone else that's moving". Never too late to learn, we've just re-met a couple who are living proof of this.They say,'you can't choose your family, but you can choose your friends', and we are proud to call my Brittany cousins both.
Merci mes amis

L'annee dernier, rabbit in the headlights

 Every Tuesday that I in France I attend, as some of you will know,  the local primary school, to teach English. Its what started me on this blog and its what continues to motivate many of the ideas & observations about our life in France, deep in the Loire countryside.

You see, as those of you who are teachers will know,  having an audience of eager, interested, but unforgiving students, be they five years or twenty five, is a sure way to enhance your own learning. The old adage that, 'if you want to learn something well, try teaching it', may sound odd , but is a real truism; nothing puts you more on your metal than the prospect of having to explain it in detail to somebody else. This is  especially so, when that somebody has the enquiring mind of a student, particularly a primary age student!

Children do not necessarily have the social niceties to go along with what you are saying, they ask the awkward  question and have a lack self consciousness. Both singly and collectively they, like water, seek out the flaws. This is not to say I think 'les elves' are scheming to undermine my lesson, it is just their natural state; they are in a learning environment all day, questioning, willing to make mistakes, self driven to understand and they don't take 'prisoners'.

 So nearly six year on from my initial uncertain visit to the school I was in again this week; teaching to the topic of 'The Human Body'. Now this could be a perilous area if I were back teaching in the Secondary sector, open to all sorts of anxieties and, even at the simplest level, could evoke a potential mine field of 'awkward or embarrassing' questions. But in that small rural classroom it was a delight, the children were interested, the subject visually engaging and all became  engrossed in the activities. From word matching & action games and worksheets to illustration I seemed to have geared the lesson right. My French explanations, my English questions all seemed to go down well.

Great I thought maybe I'm actually cracking this language, adapting my teaching and understanding the cultural nuances? I'd got through my hour and a half, the children seemed to have absorbed the key words & were prepared to verbalise in  English, so I packed up my things and prepared to go.

Now my years ago after my first basic French course, having travelled through the country over years, I finally felt I was getting a handle on things...its always when things go wrong. On a campsite somewhere near Calais, feeling quietly confident in my day to day French, I was greeted by an elderly lady commenting on the weather; "Il faire beau?" she said ( it becomes sunny). I panicked, what do I answer, is there a set reply. So what did I answer? What did my linguistic brain come up with. "Trois", yes like a rabbit in the headlights I froze and for some unaccountable reason said  the number 'three'! Since that day I have always been aware that just sometimes, for some unaccountable reason my 'French Brain' is quite likely to just malfunction.

And what happened at the end of my successful English lesson, just when I was feeling quietly confident? Well, I meant to say " a la semaine prochaine" ( See you next week), but what came out was " l'annee derniere" ( last year)! Both the maitresse and the children suddenly looked at me, quizzical, ' what does she mean? Is she telling us something?" . No just rabbit in the headlights syndrome!

What is it they say, 'pride comes before a fall', well all I can say is, "Tois"...Oh bugger!

Whats in a phrase...tellement!

Strikes me people come out with the funniest things when you least expect them. Sometimes they're known sayings, like this summer when a friend staying with us announced that, on her journey through France, she was, "So hungry I could eat the leg of the lamb of God". Or sometimes they're impromptu, as later in the holiday and out walking the beautiful Colmont river, she was desperate to use the loo. On spying a workers Portaloo nearby, she quipped, "Well any port a loo in a storm will do" and quickly disappeared inside.

There's a natural humour in some phrases, indeed some people and some regions/ cities are known for their hard humour, probably borne out of hard times. Hence my husband, a good Stoke on Trent Lad, from a family known for its witticism and sharp phrases announced that he had," no spell check on his mouth". And was heard to announce to a neighbour that, "me plums are ripening" (plenty of euphemism there) and then ask, "Is your fosse backing up"...oh er missus, sounds like an old 'Carry On' film.
  
In France we share some  phrasal commonalities that have been adopted by the English language. We assert, 'c'est la vie', use an ' aide memoire' and carry an 'attaché' case' with a certain 'je ne sis quoi'. So it seems strange when we hear them in their original tongue, with their correct pronunciation. At a recent soiree for a group of French friends I was amused to hear myself sounding like the fictional detective Hercule Poirot when I exclaimed 'Exactement' and curious to realise how many words had links with what I already knew, both in learnt , absorbed or fictional French.

Similarly our well known phrases sometimes have Gaelic equivalents like 'bien dans sa peu' ,which I learnt was to be at ease in ones own skin and 'petit poisson deviendra grand', a different and fishy take on 'from little oaks mighty acorns grow'. Yes I still struggle with the grammar, stumble over the conjugation of the verbs, but I now feel more at ease in the language, happier in the communication and loving the challenge despite  the confusions.

But then as Graham Robb recounts in his book ' The Discovery of France' 2007, relating to Bretons within living memory trying to learn French,
" The French language is a language whose words were like half empty boxes and you're not even quite what's in them" ,,,,je adore!

To teach or not to teach...

There's nothing like the need to complete a task, to  trigger an avoidance response, the more urgent the task the greater the response. You suddenly feel motivated to do something else. With my mother it was always cleaning windows, a tactic to avoid social issues or conflict. With me today, its the fact that I should be planning my lesson for tomorrow, suddenly my blog, which has been ignored of late,  becomes  extremely urgent so here I am.

Christmas gone and New Year over we are now back in France and tomorrow I'm due to go into the little village school and teach for an hour. Now its no big deal; I have no curriculum to follow, no targets to meet, no long term planning or grades to make, I'm not paid to do it, a French Ofsted equivalent is not about to turn up and the children are a real delight. Its about that four letter word & its meaning  'Work'!

If I was just helping out, just an aid or  language assistant life would be easier, but as a professional teacher you can't do anything by halves. It must be linked with past learning, develop new vocabulary, incorporate over learning, be differentiated by age & abilities within the class. My goals have to be SMART: specific, measurable, achievable, realistic and timed  and I must evaluate and review. I suppose its only like a solicitor or accountant, a doctor or a professional athlete, it cant be done casually.

Years back, as a student in Liverpool, I shared a house with a woman who was an ex Olympic swimmer and innocently asked if shed like to come to the local pool with me. She agreed and on arrival proceeded to plough up & down the pool at alarming speed & with considerable aggression. I stopped her & suggested we might sit on the pool side for a bit, or dive for a weight or simply hang in the water & chat; as I saw it a fun even social element to the swimming. She looked at me bewildered, "I hit the water every morning a 6am for years, to train for two hours and then again after school, I can't play with it".

Problem is everyone thinks they could be a teacher, we've all been to school, we all know its about being in charge and telling them what to do. That's instruction and has its place; apprenticeship, skills, task led activities but a teacher, has to be aware of the bigger picture & the individual needs, they have to communicate and draw that something special out of the students. Some people have that naturally, its in their psyche/ their very bones and just like that  swimmer they can't play at it.

 So here I am full circle, doing what I love doing it but its work. Then I remember what a good friend and ex colleague once said to me. As a Educational Psychologist she heard me procrastinating & bemoaning my  avoidance strategies and stopped me. "Its not avoidance she stated, its displacement therapy". So there you have it, I have a therapy...I feel a lot better. And just incidentally, I have a new blog,  this one, which your just read.
Enough said Pauline 'Do the lesson plan!"

Maybe it's just maybe, peut etre....with thanks to Jessica

I woke this morning, after a long night, feeling fortified linguistically and ready to write.
Maybe its something about the fact that I should now be in France & my French  cerebellum has been called into action. Maybe its a message from my ex & much rated French teacher, praising my writing on this blog. But whatever it is I've been dreaming in French and words are tumbling in my brain; questions and curiosity, so here I am.

As a child I was taken with one of the Beano, comic cartoon strips, called the Numskulls, about a team of tiny human like technicians  live inside  peoples heads, running and maintaining their bodies & minds. This concept has stayed with me & I often revisit it when considering my response to modern foreign language, in particular my beloved French.

I imagine those little creatures rushing round the filing system trying to find word equivalences or reorder the tenses. Opening half forgotten or newly filed drawers and seeking communication. Maybe Ive always been fascinated by words & communication, because whenever I use this example people look sympathetic but a little confused by this childhood analogy. Whether they don't remember, think its something of childhood or simply don't relate to it I usually get the same look. "Bear with her, she must have a serious point & the point is" the look says. Well maybe that's just it you have to have that interest in words, that fascination with communication to get it.


Wordsmiths, of which I wish I was one, have a compulsion to create, to express & to understand, which is why the very best of them hold us transfixed, rapt in the story, ferried away to another land of imagination and inner experience. Even with the marvels of cinema and computer graphics & all actors skills, direction, photography & tricks , it is generally the inner pictures which is what we run when we hear a book title or read a play review. From  Alice in Wonderland & Wind in the Willows to The BFG and The Hobbit, its those early mental images that first come to mind. They may be superseded by the amazing coloured cinema graphic images, but we each have our first and unique internal magic show that shapes our understanding & ever influences our thinking.
Have you ever read a book & uncertain of the pronunciation of a characters name, just skimmed over it, you know who or what they are? Its only when someone else says the name differently do you think, oh right well, no problem, the gist of the text is in the writing, the meaning, the pictures, name pronunciation almost an irrelevance. Well maybe its like that with the Hollywood interpretations; sometimes they enhance the internal cinema show and other times they just get filed under 'alternative views'. The very best, like their writers. are so accurate, so spectacular, that what is projected is almost raw, straight from the imagination of that writer.

That's why I don't get book reviews, critics or book clubs. That's why I don't feel the need to untangle questions in a group,like some extended A level project or read to a schedule. Why to I don't want or need to be told what to read or what is good in my reading, what not to watch, what not to participate in. I know some people want to be abreast of the times, know the latest novel by certain authors, have seen the latest play or film and have an after dinner sound bite phrase, but they obviously never read the Beano.

The question is what would the Numskulls have done? We have to filter, interpret and communicate with ourselves to understand. It may not be the best, or accepted or deepest  understanding but its ours.

So early this morning, body screaming for sleep, my internal word filtering was up & running; what's the meaning of this in French, why phrase it like that. Sometimes I just wish they'd give it a rest stop endlessly seeking, solving enquiring, but do I really. Maybe that was why I studied psychology BEd, looking for Numskulls, seeking answers. Who knows but those childhood wanderings have never left and I hope the never do.

And the point of this? Where's the Frenchness? Where's the story? Well its all in a word or maybe a phrase.

My French teacher, a skilled wordsmith and communicator, wrote about 'on verra' (we will see) in her latest piece. A new phrase to me I looked it up and considered how I might apply it & my dictionary made a clear distinction between' we will see' and ' 'We'll see' ...nous verrons or on verra. Now the point here is not is which is correct or applicable or even usual its about communicable. So do I instruct the boffins in my brain to research & store academically or simply consider and move on? As a child if I asked if we could do something or when something would happen or what if, the common adult response was 'we'll see, perhaps'. A point of great frustration, because it usually meant no, but held  no certainty and because internally the Numskulls said, "What? Now where does that answer go".


So in my early morning mental ramblings my inner child came to the fore  ,the generality, the communication, the understanding that's what's important with words. After all, as Wordsworth put it, ' The Child is the Father of the Man' and he was some wordsmith.

Now  let me guess what's in your head now, don't tell me daffodils, peut etre? Well now it is , 'on verra'!

The Englishman, the Frenchman and the Maire...

They say that language is 50% formal learning, 50% application and 100% communication. Well I experienced that recently at a meal at the house of some French friends in the village.

An Anglo/Franco mixture of some fifteen people, part family, part neighbours  and part friends, we arrived greeting each other in a mixture of tongues and accents. From the patois of the Mayenne and broad Scotts, to the softer Loire tones and the open vowels of middle England, and, amongst our midst, the marie of the village and his wife.

Between us we had a variety of linguistic skills, from the truly bi-linguist (well actually multi linguist) to a mixture of language knowledge, learnt or acquired in our own respective  journeys through life. And, just as with international flights or voyages, whose timetables are set to the country of arrival /departure, our default language was French. We ate some excellent cuisine, drank some wonderful wines and all relaxed into that happy ambience, which is generated by good folk having a good time.

We had first met our French hosts some years ago at a  local village fete, where we had shared a communal meal, of vast meat proportions, all washed down by good red wine or local cidre. The husband spoke English & wanted to practise so it was agreed that he'd speak English & myself French. I was struck by how similar in looks one of his daughters was to him and tried to express this, "votre fille vous resemble/la fille et pere avoir le meme visage". Clumsy, but effective  I thought , but not fully understood so the daughter was asked to help translate. "They have the same face", I asserted. "Face?", replied the daughter, at which point the mother burst out laughing. It seems that the  word,'face' in English, sounds to the French ear like 'fesses', which is buttocks or bum! So here was I boldly asserting that father & daughter had a derriere resemblance.

Needless to say & thankfully, this linguistic faux pas was the beginning of a friendship  and here we were again sharing good food & communication.

After many stories, jokes and bilingual exchanges, over many courses and several changes of wine, it was decided that we should all play Scrabble. Two mixed nationality teams were set up & two scrabble sets appeared as if by magic. This was to be a bilingual game. Either language to be used, with the nationals of that language being the judge of the accuracy of the language & words in question.

Not a great lover of games and particularly word games, my husband quickly realised that he had no option, but to participate, if international relations were to remain intact. Everyone busied around, moving chairs, mixing nationalities and charging glasses until the scene was set. At this point the marie declared 'political immunity', stating that it was a politically strategic game and hence in order to be neutral he had to opt out. Strange as he was the only political person in the room and even stranger when he then proceeded to move between the two games; advising, studying, tutting and nodding in equal measures.

Its a curious mental experience trying to put together random letters to match your visual memory from two different languages; your brain goes into a strange overload. The letters 'z,y,v' were more usable in French and high scorers plus, 'au, ou , et', could all fill in those awkward gaps.

It was a great night; I learnt a lot of new words (not all repeatable) and developed new thinking skills. But above all I learnt the power of  'entente cordiale' and diplomacy. Our walking lexicon of a village marie, with his political manoeuvrings between the two teams, stole the day...he was the star.

Oh and how did my long complaining, 'I don't do games' husband fair?
Well he won hands down in both languages!

" C'est incroyable!"...

French pragmatism...oh la la

Well I've sampled the very adequate French health care system yet again. Reluctant though I was to step into the medical quagmire I had to do so as the pain in my side did not go.

In short, within five days all was checked, solution found & on the road to recovery. Cost in euros, just over two hundred, cost in peace of mind & ability to sleep comfortably, beyond price.

As always the differences in the two systems (UK & France) intrigue & amuse and added to my continuing medical saga. First was the fact that you must always acknowledge social niceties even when in pain or fear, so you must greet appropriately, give due time for deliberation(at least twice the time you'd expect for a doctor to take in the UK) and show no response & certainly no humour in the face of the gravity of the procedure. Secondly you must always be aware of the French preoccupation with  fine food and all things relating to the eating etiquette & process. Its not simply, 'don't eat from midnight before the scan', its suggestions for light 'dinner' and a repeated emphasis to take ' a little bread, a little cheese~ a petit morsel in the car in order to sustain yourself between the clinic & home.

Then the clinic itself, the exterior resembled a small house with tubs of bright flowers situated on what appears to be a suburban road; bungalows & houses, people trimming hedges & walking dogs. Inside a state of the art medical facility run with military precision and polite efficiency. But then there's the pretty seating areas with tasteful art work & fake greenery and all the patients have to greet each other 'Bonjour Monsieur/ Dame',cant let the social niceties slip.

So I finally get to the ultra scanning & x ray part, the working area of the clinic and everything is done very precisely, though all a little surprisingly. Now usually in such circumstances the NHS provide a back fastening unflattering coverall robe & cover most of the not needed parts like legs or upper torso with sheets or blankets. So I was curious to see what the French would do; fashionable over garments,'haute couture'? No, simply strip off ! I asked for clarification, in case my language skills had let me down but no, take off all your clothes & lie on the bench, the doctor will arrive soon.

I've always criticised the prudishness of the English system which insists on covering every possible unnecessary inch. Even at the point of imminently giving birth, having rushed into the cottage hospital, I was asked in the UK to "neatly fold my clothes & put my legs into the green cotton covers", the phrase 'bugger off' was shortly overtaken by the later stages of  labour contractions. But  in France, here I was no robe, nor sheet to hide my modesty, feeling somewhat vulnerable awaiting the doctor.

And when he arrived, looking like a  lab technician, white coat, high buttoned and jeans, I was questioned about my medical history for some five or more minutes, all the time stark naked lain on this bench, bizarre! Then came the internal examination, now to not go into too much detail in England the apparatus is covered in what resembles a plastic bag, not so in France; obvious really a 'French Letter' and a choice of colours! pragmatism


               
So what has this to do with a small French school? Well everything, because this necessity for social politeness & courtesy, but also the down to earth pragmatism is key to how the system works. The children are expected to always be polite & show good manners, but the practicalities of life are to be used & not hampered by health & safety or big business greed. 


In my professional life I was always aware of the security of schools; the access to buildings, the codes for classrooms or offices, everything secured down, the educational world on high alert. But here in rural France life has more trust & there are practical necessities, hence the small school room opens up, from a door with no security lock onto a playground with no codes or buzzers.


 Children play peacefully, not hampered with fears of the outside world. True we need to raise children in a safe environment & teach them to be aware of danger, but we don't need to stifle their existence in that world & make it a fearful place. 

So every Monday morning I rattle open the rusty bolt, cross the rough pot holed yard and open the classroom door. I enter their world as a trusted adult and bring to it, I hope, a little of the world of language  and the magic of learning.

Nuances and nods

Language is a complex combination of written, read, heard  & spoken structures. To be fluent you need to, 'be able to express one]
yourself easily and articulately', ' to speak or write language easily & accurately'; but the key is in the word  'fluent' itself; from the Latin 'fluere', fluency should be flowing & smooth.

Getting that flow, is bigger than the nuances of the individual components of a language, greater than just the structure, the spelling, grammar or pronunciation. Its primarily about its communication and for that you need empathy.

You can know all the words, have a grasp of the grammar and understand the written & read text, but without empathy for that language & its culture, your communication will not  ' flow'.

One of the best examples of this is in the use of body language which communicates the meaning, not just directly, but   also indicates you have a knowledge beyond the actual words.

 Travelling in India some years ago the men in the group became fascinated with the head actions of Indian males towards them. In the male world misinterpreting body language is potentially a dangerous activity and, if not read correctly, can end up in a fight. Described as drawing a figure of eight whilst your head is suspended from a fixed point, each guy in the group was intent to master this, so as to fit the cultural norm & stay safe. Turns out it is done increasingly when the person is anxious or nervous, but a lack of this action shows a lack of understanding on the part of the listener.

So it was a few years ago in rural France when there was a minor dispute about who was entitled to put animals on our land. Based on confusion  between the local farmer and a French horse breeder, both of whom believed  they could put their respective animals on our land, my husband Ron set about resolving this potential dispute. It was not an insolvable problem, but in dialect French  and French body language, not easy. 
It went like this:

• Farmer & Horseman stand facing each other, closer than English norm.
• Ron stands equally close feeling uncomfortable.
• Two Frenchman put their hands on their hips & continue talking.
• Ron copies the action looking confused.
• Frenchmen's voices get louder & arms are crossed.
• Ron slowly, uncertainly crosses his arms.
• Silence!
• Ron attempts to intercede.
• Silence!
• More loud French upward turned palms & classic shrug.
• Ron stands still, unsure.
• Frenchmen shake hands vigorously clap each othe on the back & laugh.deal done!
• Ron laughs nervously, deal done, not sure what!
• Two Frenchmen, resolved, "Calvados monsieur,ah oui"

 It turns out that they simply agreed to share the land & put both cows & horse on the land. It wasn't a problem, but it wasn't just the words that communicated the interaction it was the actions and it only flowed in French.

People often refer to the Gaelic shrug but like all languages there are so many degrees of any one action & so many possible actions, your fluency depends on your imitative skills. 

I found this out  recently, because I am very good at mimicking facial & body actions, I don't think about it I just find myself doing them & have become quite proficient in female French body language. Problem is my actual spoken language does not always match my non verbal communication, so fellow conversationalists will often assume I know much more than I do & talk even faster, assuming complete comprehension. Suddenly the conversation came to a question, there was a silence, all eyes turned to me! I shrugged as best I could and uttered the cover all local phrase, 'bah non', it seemed to work, but I was left only half sure what I'd disagreed with.

You need all the aspects of communication to be fluent. Unfortunately in my case recently I was more, 'going with the flow' than 'flowing'.Still, as the advert advises, 'Every little helps' and I do love France!
 'bah oui...exactement...bah oui'

Positively Speaking

My latest lesson  teachingEnglish and  I am left pondering how to encourage more speaking, how I can get the French children to venture into the vital world of verbal communication,


There's something about the formality & grammatical correctness of teaching in France which means the children are fine with the written or read word / with the convergent and single answer response, but struggle with choice or possible different answers. They are used to everything being marked, its right or wrong; no maybe, no nearly and certainly no points for initiative or effort.

So today I began to wonder if their system & way of working was making me adapt my teaching; was I asking for one word answers, expecting single correct answers? I was trying to get them to remember and talk about the days of the week and latterly the concept of 'next' as in the next day or the person next to you, but because they didn't want to make a mistake verbally they were hesitant. They knew the names & order of the days, they knew the concept of  'next / prochaine ', but choosing to take a chance and answer, no thank you. Better if they could take turns or be chosen to speak.And then there were the multiple choice questions, now they're a nightmare!

Our previous 'Let's Speak' language students (French wishing to improve their spoken English) had told us that every error was marked even if the sentence worked, if it was not formally the 'one correct' answer, then it was wrong. Hence for them, written grammar or read prose with closed (single answer) questions were easy to score highly, but they felt inadequate orally because they misused a word, shortened a phrase or mispronounced a.... But language is about communication, getting the message across and 'guessing', 'having a go', trying to put words together, even reading inflection & body language are all vital facets to fluency.

Strange then that in the teaching of a language in France more emphasis seems to be put on correctness and less on actually getting the meaning across.After all we don't normally assess oral / aural communication by how correctly its written or spelt. That would be like measuring land in fathoms or the sea in acres. So most French people pass through the education system with a good grounding of grammatical English but no confidence to speak it, afraid that if its not perfect it will be wrong & ridiculed.

This concept of failure is,it seems, deeply woven into the education system. Children pass  through the primary school system ('marernalle' & 'primaire') in descending numerical order, unlike their UK counterparts who ascend in order. However if they do not make their grades for that year, they fail the year  and have to repeat that year. This is not an uncommon event and is accepted by students who then must repeat the year with children younger than them. Akin to the Victorian 'Standards', whereby you only passed through the standards if you achieved the grade and passed the tests, this is a system which, from the very start acknowledges failure and advances success.  

So when it comes to getting the children to take a risk, have a go the failure is not just a fear of, but a probable reality. So I wonder what those children & their families would make of a letter  recently sent by a Welsh school to all their pupils about to take Standard Attainment Tests. All credit to the school in question, this is a brilliant piece of positivity and I thoroughly approve.

   

Two Blogs One Life...

Back in France and about to return to my voluntary teaching in the small village school.

Its been 18 months since I last taught there;  a year of cancer diagnosis,operations & treatments. So  I am on the eve of writing a piece which actually applies to both the blogs I maintain;  www.frenchchalk.blogspot.fr  and www.diagnosisjournal.blogspot.com ; a strange feeling, my two worlds colliding.

So what am I going to teach, well what else but family. "Je m'appelle Md. Machin, et vous?" I start again, mostly new / different children and  I needs must return to basics; names, introductions and family.

Very apt, in that, in France and particularly rural France,  ' mon famille' is all important. Indeed it was my family that was so important in my journey to recovery. More than a ' basic social unit related to one another', my family close & family of friends near & far have given me the encouragement to keep going.


So when I talk with the children and when we share our languages & experiences, it will mean so much more now.I will be communicating between my two worlds, merging  my France in France & my life with and of cancer.

So, Monday, in that small classroom will indeed be a joy; the joy of teaching, sharing, laughing, encouraging; in short the joy of living and that is difficult to write a lesson plan for. 

So here's my draft:           Lesson Plan for Life
OBJECTIVE: To share the joy of family close & far and understand how special they are
SYLLABUS / SCHEME/ PLAN: Learning intentions & Prior Learning
To communicate the emotion, recognise the limits and learn & apply prior life skills.
OUTCOMES:Key vocabulary & resources needed
Hope, positivity, resourcefulness and love
LEARNING ACTIVITIES: Warm up, differentiation and measurable goals.
So many years, so many faces and so much of the path trod. Yet still a lot to learn...
ASSESSMNET & EVALUATION:
Living & loving....

Now that's what OFSTED would call, ' Outstanding'

The 80 / 20 Rule

It never ceases to amaze me that  the fundamentals of teaching apply across the board; all ages, subjects & abilities, teaching is an art with scientific principles.

My husband  has started some  volunteer tutoring with a local amateur art group and loving it. So each Wednesday evening he is considering & preparing for Thursdays adventure at the adult learning chalk face. He is meticulous in his preparation, clear in his intentions and, despite all those years in university teaching, still has some pre performance nerves.  Our roles have currently changed, no longer me worrying about the village school on a Sunday afternoon, well at least not until after Easter, but my other half  in the same shoes; bigger shoes and different language to overcome.

He is a firm believer in good preparation, but allowance of  flexibility; something left open, to chance. Might be a question, a technique, learner curiosity or just the interest of the day, but there has to be some development element  Fortunately we learnt our craft when creativity & flexibility were seen as equal bedfellows with planning & assessment, we are not bound, by curriculum, standards or thought processes to one single line of  teaching. We can maintain the momentum, achieve the goals, fulfil the targets and be creative, it what gives  teachers
 'the edge'.
The same applied when we came to plan our short presentation for the planning group of the local town Art Festival. There was so much we could say, quote & explain, but we keep it simple & allowed for listener participation. The result a clean and attractive one sheet overview of our small French Art Holiday Business Abientot Art (see our Facebook Page: Art Holidays Abientot) 

But just in case any of you are under the allusion that we teach in a, 'flying by the seat of your pants', Hippy Dippy, 60's manner, here's the theory to back the words.
Its called 'The Pareto Principle' or 'Law of the vital few' and is based on the work of economist Vilfredo  Pareto. It states that, for many events, roughly 80% of the effects comes from 20% of the causes and is used as a business rule of thumb in looking at outcomes v workload. For example, its reckoned that 80% of any  business comes from 20% of the clients, so its better to put the effort into that 20%.

Certainly you can work to increase the 80% result, but  returns are relatively low simply adds to the workload stress, without increasing the outcome. Now stress is a much maligned word. We  need a certain amount  of stress to function. Its the tension that we call excitement , a rush, adrenaline or endomorphin surge or arousal and we even seek it out in our work, hobbies, holidays. Its what makes a problem become a challenge, a danger into a dare and a difficulty into a competition. We need that edge, that adaptability & creativity it also makes the best teachers.

So remember the next time someone challenges your approach or infers a lack of planning, its the Pareto Principle. The 'Law of the Vital Few'.

Divergency...its all in a brush stroke

A guest to our art holiday retreat, which we run from the farm in the Pays de la Loire, was fascinated by her own left / right dominance. Having always assumed she was right side dominant, she had found some preferences for her left hand and so was experimenting with both writing & drawing with her left hand.

My previous studies and work experience as an Advisory Teacher for Literacy & SEN (psychology & dyslexia) meant I had dealt a great deal with learning stlyes, teaching methods and the physical & psychological links of development.

Many a great thinker, Einstein & Leonardo to name but two, has been whole brain functioning / multi dominance. Indeed I believe we all have degrees of cross over in the usage of those two precious hemispheres that constitute the 'wet computer', of our brain. We have developed from seeing only natures curves & light to perceiving man made angularity and artificial light.

Our ancestors, not so many generations back, would have used whatever cognitive or dexterity skills genetics and / or the environment had given them. it is only more recently, in the history of mans evolution, when we measure things largely convergently and, when everyday survival needs are resolved, can we afford the luxury of considering our own functioning.

We are hard wired to seek solutions, but when & how we analyse is dictated by a large number of variables. Some spend lifetimes in academic or analytical pursuit, others look for application and process. Whatever way we cannot avoid our 'fault finding' internal chart, its our way of synthesising the world around us.

Recently I relearnt, via a language French guest, Aristotle's philosophical statement to prove our individual existence...'Je pense, donc je suis'. So in answer to our budding left handed artist.

'If you think you are left side dominant, therefore you probably are'. Well that's what I feel, I think!

Learning is hard in any language....

This year I have been unable to continue my teaching commitments both in France & the UK due to illness; indeed we have had to spend most of the year in the UK. Hence my Anglo/ Franco blog has suffered as I have not been at the chalk face. However I have been observing and considering the two linguistic systems & my fascination between these two great nations & their languages, continues.

It seems that when it comes to Modern Foreign Languages, its not so much about which is the hardest to learn, more about the perception of the learner in how hard that process is. We all like to think our language is the hardest to learn, and by hardest I mean complex and of course best. Thereby lies a measure of elitism as our 'mother tongue' has our highest ranking  and must therefore have the most importance.

I have tried to joke with the French children about their many language homophones ai, aie, aient, aies, ait, (OK they say grammar), aout (August),hou (boo),houe  (hoe),houx (holly),ou(or) & ou (where)...they still don't see the problem even when you joke about not having holly in August. And when I had the audacity to jest about having, 'two hands tomorrow'...."deux mains / demain",  the children just saw that as plain silly.


Likewise we English like to extol the complexity & difficulty of our language and a fine example of this was recently sent to me... http://www.tickld.com/funny/t/824613. This author of this poem proclaims that:

"If you can pronounce correctly every word in this poem, you will be speaking English better than 90% of the native English speakers in the world."
And after trying the verses, it is claimed that  a Frenchman said he’d prefer six months of hard labour to reading six lines aloud.

"Mais oui monsieur"....." We may"....




 

Cowpat Lottery

With full credit to the Anglofranco newspaper 'Connections', September 2014, for finding & reporting this gem. Quite believable in a country so involved in to its rural roots. You only have to drive along any rural major  N road to see large scale poster/billboards advertising some agricultural product and many use the cow as its  main focus.   Can't quite imagine what the equivalent in the UK might be, probably a speed camera  or car park lottery. However  the idea of numbers of people paying & watching such a programme is difficult to imagine, but then we do have Big Brother and Gogglebox.   Personally I'd rather watch the cows!   Charente’s first cowpat lottery

September 30, 2014

A HISTORIC first “cowpat lottery” was held in the Charente at the weekend. While popular in the east of France, the Loto Bouse held in Roumazières on Saturday was the first for the department and was a fundraiser for a local football club, En avant Charente-Est. The game involves marking out a field with a numbered grid and then letting cows loose in it. The box in which the first cow leaves a pat is the winning one. At Roumazières the playing space was 50m by 50m, divided into 2,444 boxes. Some 300 people watched the game. One spectator, from Nice, told Charente Libre: “You don’t often see so many people all staring at cows’ backsides.” Another said: “It’s good to innovate and be audacious, good for the club and for the town.” Four prizes were up for grabs, including a holiday and a TV. The club sold more than 900 tickets at €5 each. A sworn legal officer was on hand to rule on which square contained the most pat in case of doubt. Loto Bouse started in the Jura and has also taken off in Brittany.

Diwrnod da o wyliau mawr...Bonjour et bon vacances

Strange how when you start to crack the code for another language, your brain begins to search for patterns in other language forms.

Now I know that linguists/ multi language speakers are hard wired to pick up on languages; decode & search for links, but I didn't realise that even at a minimal level this is true. All those French classes, searching conversations and passing chats in French would add up to my brain trying to  use this knowledge in a unique way.

So it was in our latest & brief visit to the Welsh coast I found myself searching for links, wondering about patterns & considering word order and all this without a single spoken word of that lyrical language. My mind was alive with questions scanning for letter patterns or potential meaning all reinforced by the dual signage...quite fascinating!

I had a conversation with a highly competent ex French teacher, who having given me an impromptu monologue on a point of French grammar, explained that she had expected to become fluent in Welsh within 6 months. She hadn't, despite lessons and why, because she asserted, "they just don't speak it to me'. But that just left me wondering, as I was hearing it spoken all around me in shops & on the street, if the key to language skills is more about people than any amount of grammar and linguistics.

Simultaneously we struggled with an assortment of our own native language accents, from Birmingham to Essex, uncertain what was said or even meant and finally concluded you have to get the gist of it, the general feel of content and watch that body language.

Well that's Frelsh sorted?

French Time Travel

My duel existence in France and the UK is currently full of amazing coincidences. It seems as though my two worlds are getting muddled; the spheres of time are overlapping.

It started on my first return to the UK. I had met Ashley Hutchings (80s folk fame) in Carelles ,whilst he was tutoring on a music course Sept 2012.Then, by pure chance again in my one & only visit to a pub folk group in Cheddleton June 2012.”What are you doing here?” was his response, “well I live here “.Bizarre!

The next week I took a call from some Hawaiian friends, who we met via an art forum on line and who own a holiday home south of us in the Pay de la Loire. We have met several times but now they were in England and proposing a visit. Three days & delightful guests, but it felt surreal, as if I’d muddled the images in a dream.

Days later, out house hunting, I meet people actually looking to do the reverse of what we are planning. We are downsizing in the UK with an emphasis on France. They were similarly downsizing, but considering a move to France. Later that day I viewed a property with our daughter Jane, which, it turns out by chance is owned by, a ‘not so popular’ and distant relative, who I’ve not seen for many years. Jane was brilliant, kept her cool and we left in the knowledge of no sell and having taken the ‘moral high ground’, result, but bizarre. Space continuum is having trouble with my timeline!

Then Thursday, responding via Facebook to my old mate Rene (not seen since about 1980& living in New Zealand), she mentions an acquaintance in NZ who came from Longton & was a biker. Several messages later, turns out this guy is the same age and fellow motor head as Ron (ever patient husband) also said husband that knew him in the 1960s. So it comes as no surprise that he is visiting France this year. Invitation to Carelles sent…other worlds colliding!

And only Friday, waiting for a friend at the hospital in Stoke & sitting with a random group of women, I find another bizarre coincidence. One lady knew the village of Carelles, inhabitants 300, and in particular one person, me! It turns out that she is one the village council of the Moorlands school that I have built a link with & the children in both countries re writing to each other. Seems this lady heard the presentation given by David the Head teacher about the school twinning work. Amazing, what are the odds?

Not sure about fate, or whether my stars are in some strange cosmic alignment, but I keep getting this image of ‘the gods’ looking over a pool which is my life & laughing at the ripples they make that muddle my duel existence. Perhaps it’s simply a small world and eventually you will meet those people and places that stand on the edge of your existence. The lesson to learn is that everything is linked, we are all counter balances to each other.

However I have a further theory, it’s called Ryanair…

Now for those of you who have not booked on line through this budget and reputable firm, here’s the low down. Throughout the booking process they bombard you with adverts & services, car hire, suitcases, extra insurance, seat preference hotels and even lottery tickets, all designed to make you spend more money with them. You must complete the obstacle course by checking & declining every step of the way. Now here’s the theory…I reckon at some point in my recent frequent travels I failed to click ‘no thank you’ on one of those sections.

Note to self: Next Ryanair booking check no to…’Time Travel’ option…it’s all getting too bizarre!

My duel existence last year, in France and the UK, was full of amazing coincidences. It seems as though my two worlds were getting muddled; the spheres of time are overlapping.

It started on my first return to the UK. I had met Ashley Hutchings (80s'Steeleye Span' folk fame) in Carelles ,whilst he was tutoring on a music course.Then, by pure chance again in my one & only visit to a pub folk group in Staffordshire.”What are you doing here?” was his response, “well I live here “.. " What both, that's bizarre" was his response!

Later  I took a call from some Hawaiian friends, who we met via an art forum on line and who own a holiday home south of us in the Pay de la Loire. We have met several times but now they were in England and proposing a visit. Three days & delightful guests, but it felt surreal, as if I’d muddled the images in a dream.

Days later, out house hunting, I meet people actually looking to do the reverse of what we are planning. We are downsizing in the UK with an emphasis on France. They were similarly downsizing, but considering a move to France. Later that day I viewed a property with our daughter Jane, which, it turns out by chance is owned by, a ‘not so popular’ and distant relative, who I’ve not seen for many years. Jane was brilliant, kept her cool and we left in the knowledge of no sell and having taken the ‘moral high ground’, result, but bizarre. Space continuum is having trouble with my timeline!

Then Thursday, responding via Facebook to my old mate Rene (not seen since about 1980& living in New Zealand), she mentions an acquaintance in NZ who came from Longton & was a biker. Several messages later, turns out this guy is the same age and fellow motor head as Ron (ever patient husband) also said husband that knew him in the 1960s. So it comes as no surprise that he is visiting France this year. Invitation to Carelles sent…other worlds colliding!

And only Friday, waiting for a friend at the hospital in Stoke & sitting with a random group of women, I find another bizarre coincidence. One lady knew the village of Carelles, inhabitants 300, and in particular one person, me! It turns out that she is one the village council of the Moorlands school that I have built a link with & the children in both countries re writing to each other. Seems this lady heard the presentation given by David the Head teacher about the school twinning work. Amazing, what are the odds?

Not sure about fate, or whether my stars are in some strange cosmic alignment, but I keep getting this image of ‘the gods’ looking over a pool which is my life & laughing at the ripples they make that muddle my duel existence. Perhaps it’s simply a small world and eventually you will meet those people and places that stand on the edge of your existence. The lesson to learn is that everything is linked, we are all counter balances to each other.

However I have a further theory, it’s called Ryanair…

Now for those of you who have not booked on line through this budget and reputable firm, here’s the low down. Throughout the booking process they bombard you with adverts & services, car hire, suitcases, extra insurance, seat preference hotels and even lottery tickets, all designed to make you spend more money with them. You must complete the obstacle course by checking & declining every step of the way. Now here’s the theory…I reckon at some point in my recent frequent travels I failed to click ‘no thank you’ on one of those sections.

Note to self: Next Ryanair booking check no to…’Time Travel’ option…it’s all getting too bizarre!