HOW TO LOOK LIKE A DO-IT-YOURSELF PRO

               

                             

Some years ago, when we bought our house, it needed doing up.

While waiting for the craftsmen's estimates (I should say ' hoping for ' their estimates), we thought there were things we could do ourselves.

We were looking forward to farewelling the kitchen tiled floor. It was old-fashioned, cracked and stained, so removing it would be our first step into the handymen's world.

We didn't leave anything up to chance.

After raiding the nearby DIY shop, we came back home with the tiler's perfect outfit : thick overalls, kneepads, heavy duty gloves, safety goggles, and even earplugs (a pneumatic drill music has nothing to do with a lullaby !).

We had bought and rented so many tools that the kitchen quickly looked like a hardware store !

An umpteenth glance at the video " How to remove the tile like a pro ", and we launched the scraping,chipping and drilling challenge .

A couple of hours later, we were washed out, sore all over, dust-covered , and our white tongues proved that our dust masks were not good value for money !

To crown it all, we were awfully thirsty, and as we were not living in the house yet, no drink to be found in the cupboards ! The previous owners had just left cobwebs, and as if to taunt us, an empty bottle-rack !

It was nearly 7pm, so if we wanted to quench our thirst, we had to rush downtown. So, we hopped into our car and off we went !

In the provinces when the shops close at 7, it means the shop assistants are outside at 7, and it's no use shaking the door.
We were left high and dry.

Before withering for ever, the only thing to be done was to pay a visit to the local pub.
I'm not that keen on beer, but asking for still water or ice tea in that place would be a bit cheeky, so I thought draught beer would do.

As soon as we stepped in, the bartender shouted :

" Welcome to Mardi Gras party , and, please, a storm of applause for our couple of craftsmen ! Thanks for coming ! In half-an-hour the best costume will be awarded a beertender ! In the meantime have fun  and enjoy your beer ! ".

The place had a soft lighting, and we could just guess the customers' figures, but sure it was crowded, cause we were cheered loudly !

A bit embarrassed, we ordered our drinks and sat down.
We were sipping our beer, when a customer came to our table and said :

" Congrats ! Dressing up as craftsmen ! What a brainwave ! But, how did you manage for the dust, the cement stains and the goggle marks on your faces ? ".

Before I could say Jack Robinson, Dearhubby who is always quick on the draw, replied :

" You know, it was not that difficult ! We are tilers. We have just started our own business, and tonight we are celebrating our first contract ! ".

I nearly chocked ! Jeez, my favourite prankster was back !

A last gulp of beer, then I stood up, and to show Dearhubby I could be a pranskter myself, I said :

" Sorry, but I have to leave you, cause of urgent estimates to post, but my husband will tell you more about our activities and give you our business card. See you some day ".

Dearhubby looked flabbergasted. I gave him a little wink and left !

For once, in the pranks category, the student had surpassed the master .

NEW YEAR COUNTDOWN

CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN :

                            

Today is Monday December 19th, and now let's face it : the countdown has really started.

The countdown to Christmas, of course, but I guess if you are old enough to read this blog, then you are too old to believe in Santa Claus, or it's just wishful thinking.

So, don't count on me to give you tips and tricks not to get lost in the hustle and bustle of Christmas. For a lot of us, last lap before Christmas often means hunting for the perfect gifts, cooking, decorating, and all that jazz. To sum it up : a nightmarish marathon race !

No, I mean the countdown to Year 2017 we have been jonesing for !

You know, when on December 31st the clock strikes midnight, and you feel excited to make a fresh start : a new year, a new life, good resolutions and so on !

Most of the time you wake up the day after with a hangover and silly

resolutions you will fortunately have forgotten by the end of January !

Come on, I'm not a killjoy, I'm just clear-sighted.

I have already experienced all that dozens of times !

Can you believe that ? Making crazy resolutions years after years, then feeling guilty for breaking them, and yet, the year after, starting all over again !

Boy, I'm not that stupid ! Once was enough to teach me a lesson !

Jeez, it was such a powerful lesson that I still remember it as if it were yesterday.

So, let me share that ' dark ' memory with you.

Don't worry ' dark ' is just a kind of clue ...Nothing bad ,sad or mad

(nothing mad ? Um, um) happens in this blog !

The only fateful time I made a resolution on January 1st, I had been teaching adults for nearly three months, and, I must confess, things were not getting on that smoothly.

I used to spend whole weekends preparing my classes, rehearsing in front of the mirror, asking Dearhubby and the children to test the exercises to check if they made sense.

When my dear volunteers said everything was ok, then the sky was the limit !

Unfortunately, Mondays came, and then, things got quite different ...

Bye bye Carefree Perky !

Sweaty hands, throbbing heart, jelly legs : that's how I stepped into the arena, Imean, into the classroom !

I was so strung up that, when writing on the blackboard, I often happened to drop or even break the chalk !

And my voice ! Dear me, I sounded like a sheep crying for its mummy :

" Mummmy, mummy, come to fetch me, otherwise all those people will shear me ! ".

My adult learners never ' sheared ' me . Quite the contrary, they helped me ahead !

Anyway, on that January 1st, I made the resolution to be less shy, less awkward, more self-confident, more casual, and to have that kind of

' I know the job ' behaviour.

A few days later, I was challenged to stick to my silly commitment.

I was asked to give one-to-one tuitions to a chartered accountant. Two challenges at a time !!

First, I had never given one-to-one tutions before, and just to think about that sent me shivers along the spine !

Then, to a chartered accountant ! Maths had always been my pet peeve, so how on earth would we get along well ?

Actually, the man turned up to be well-mannered and sociable.

Cheerful and all smiles ? Well, not really, but after all, you can't expect someone dealing with figures all day long to be beaming with joy, can you ?

During the first tuition, I managed to sound self-confident, to pretend to know the ropes  and be like a fish to water.

I had left my pounding heart, my cotton wool legs and my bleating voice backstage, and my ' one woman show ' didn't go on too badly.

When I left the conference room, I was on cloud nine .

I had not shied away, I had stuck to my resolution : I had been self-assured and calm !

Now, I could walk through the office door proudly, and even better, pop in to the nearby pastry-shop for a small reward.I deserved it, didn't I ?

I pulled the door open, it slammed behind me, and there I was ... standing in the dark (you remember the dark memory at the beginning of the story ?) in ... the broom closet !!

No way to open it from inside !

I started banging on the door, crying for help ! Nothing ! Just the sound of silence !

I suddenly realized with horror that it was lunchtime. Everybody had gone out !

If  I had not made that ridiculous resolution, I would have refused that contract, and by now, I would be enjoying a crunchy chicken sandwich in my favourite eatery !

My mouth was watering....but all my " Open Sesame "stayed vain !

And the brooms in the closet did not belong to Harry Potter, so no way to ride one and fly away !

The place was rather dusty, and after a while I started sneezing. That beat all !! My allergy was back !!

I was sneezing for the umpteenth time when I heard a voice asking :

    " Is there anybody in ? ".

I sneezed out a relieved " yes !! ".

The door opened slowly, one of the secretaries was staring at me speechlessly.

She was as white as a sheet, as if she had seen a ghost, and I was red with shame !

If I had been more self-confident, I would have gone out of the closet casually, swept aside any explanations (with all the brooms, it would have been easy ) and walked away.

Or, even better, I could have said : " My broom won't start. I'll take the bus".

And then, I would have kept my resolution not to be shy anymore, but my miserable situation was beyond me !!

Once more, I got tongue-tied, and just spluttered " bye " and fled away.

The next week when I arrived in the office, there were signs on each door...

The chartered accountant let me in and asked me if I had found my way easily ...

I blushed !

I was still shy, but at least I had learnt that people dealing with figures can have a sense of humour !

After that adventure I was done with any resolution for ever !!

That's all folks !

I hope you have enjoyed my story and that it will give you food for thought before making any New Year resolutions !

I wish you a Perky Christmas !!

                                

FRENCH TOILETS

CHAPTER NINETY-SIX :

              

As you already know, I'm a die-hard reader, so whenever I go downtown, I always pay a visit to the local bookshop.

The place is rather small, and the aisles between the displays so narrow that to squeeze along requires flexibility, but a healthy diet,as well. I'm not kidding !

One roll of fat too many, and you can get stuck between wobbly piles of books threatening to crash down if you breathe out ! Porty regulars know that either they stop indulging their tastebuds, or they'll have to make do with the end-aisles displays !

The owner there is really the right man in the right place. He is friendly but not too intrusive, reserved but ready to help.

Whatever the novel, the thriller, the sci-fi or even the relatively unknowns you are looking for, he 'll go out of his way to get it !

So, even if the place is cramped, there's always something to whet my bookworm appetite  ! All the more as no book is shrink-wrapped !

That's how last week, while browsing, I stumbled upon " A guide to the toilets of the world " ! A bit weird, isn't it ? But yet quite useful, cause it's better to be prepared for the unexpected ...

Creativity has no bounds :  some pictures were really shocking,others were  hilarious, but all were mind-blowing !

Anyway, no photo of what happened to a Japanese friend of mine in the same kind of place ...

We have known each other since primary school, and even though she went back to Tokyo when she was eighteen, we were such close-knit friends that we have managed to keep in touch so far.

So, some years ago, when she told me that she was coming to Europe and planning a 10-day driving tour of the Loire valley, I jumped at that wonderful opportunity to suggest her to drive a bit farther down and stay with us in Charente for a while.

She was thrilled to bits and so was I !

Meeting again meant endless chitchats, uncontrollable giggles, little confessions, and if, some spare time, sightseeing (plenty of places to see in Charente Maritime), and,of course, indulging her with all our local specialties !

All the easier as Yumi was far from being a picky eater !

When we were at school, to make fun of her appetite, I used to tell her that I wondered what it would have been with one more ' m ' in her first name !

She was quick on the draw and never failed to reply :

   " Don't worry about my appetite ! Just call me ' Yum ' for short ".

The good old days ...

Yumi had never been to Charente Maritime before, and I really wanted her first visit to be an unforgettable experience.

So, everyday we crisscrossed the region to show her round all the places worth sightseeing.

We even took her to an oyster farm where she could see oyster beds and taste the famous ' Fines de Claire ' she had been jonesing for !

A few castles, romanesque churches, arenas,water mills and wineries later, Yumi's art and gourmet tour was coming to an end.

She could not leave Charente Maritime without trying an ' Eclade de moules ' !

For those who have never heard about that dish (poor you !), it is made by covering the mussels with a thick layer (10 cm) of dry pine needles , and then setting the dish alight. Pine needles burn very fiercely for a few minutes, the time needed to cook the mussels and give them the taste of wild pine.

Now, I guess you understand why I didn't want my Japanese friend to miss that spectacular and tasty culinary experience !

By fluke, an oyster farmer of a nearby village was organizing a huge  éclade in one of his meadows (a former camping site), so we decided to put our names down.

Two days later  when we parked in the farmyard and got out of the car, it was scorching hot and the party was already in full swing thanks to the home-made Pineau the owner was treating his guests to !

Not really thirst-quenching, but well, ' when in Rome, do as the Romans do ' !

Dearhubby and I had already experienced the side effects of that sweet aperitif, especially when home-made ...

In a single gulp you get the taste of fresh harvest fruit and throat-burning cognac, and the combination is so pleasant that you just feel like getting another shot, and that's when things start getting wrong...

So, when the farmer offered a third round, we gently refused, unlike Yumi who swallowed it straight back and started giggling ...

Just a glance at her and I knew what was going on : rosy cheeks, bright eyes and a blissful look meant that it was high time she had a hearty meal, otherwise she would start singing up a storm !

Fortunately, a few minutes later everybody was invited to sit at the tables.

I thought we would have the éclade immediately, but the farmer had put on a big spread, and we were first served half a melon with ...Pineau .

I told Yumi that she could pour the alcohol in her glass and have just the melon, but she replied that she was not a teetotaller, she was a big girl able to hold a drink, and what's more Japanese alcoholic beverages were much stronger than Pineau !!

Well, not that strong perhaps, but anyway, pretty tipsifying !

The melon was mellow and ...Yumi, too ! To be honest, Yumi was even too mellow ...

Before I could say Jack Robinson, she was done with the ' melon au Pineau '.

Then she stood up and said she would be back in a minute.

She whispered into my ear (or at least she thought she was whispering) that everything was ok, but she needed to go to the toilets.

And off she stumbled !!

How could she know where the toilets were ?? She had never been there before and no sign to show the way to the toilets anywhere ! She had not even asked me !

No time to think it over, the farmer was about to set fire to the éclade, and was inviting all the guests to get ready to take photos of that unforgettable experience.

I looked around, but Yumi could not be seen in the far distance !

The pine needles had burnt and the mussels were being served , when, at last, my friend turned up !

She was in a sorry state ; soaked to the bones and shamefaced !

She told me that she had gone across the meadow to find out that in the shed there were only squat toilets !

What a culture shock !

She would never have thought that French people were still using that sort of stuff !

And even worse, after that awfully uncomfortable pee break, when she had wanted to flush the toilet, she had gone through a kind of ice bucket challenge ! And yet, she had never been willing to dump a bucket of ice water on her head !!

I burst out laughing, and explained her that she had been mistaken.

The shed, she had been to, were the showers of the former camping

site !

The toilets were just in the opposite direction !

As she was looking rather embarrassed , to give her smile again, I added that now the showers had been turned into drunk tanks , and seemed to be quite efficient ...

That's how my Japanese friend got to know Charente Maritime, its delicious Pineau and also its side effects !!

As for the éclade , she could enjoy the mussels, but for the pine needles on fire, she had to do with my photos !

That's all for this week, folks !

Don't forget : be perky,but don't drink one glass too many !

SHOPPING LIST : TO CUT THE MUSTARD OR NOT

CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE :

             

Some time ago I told you about my driving licence, and how I couldn't take it, cause of a scared-stiff instructor threatening to resign if I was to have one more lesson.

I gave up, because , whenever I stepped into the driving-school, the poor guy got panic-stricken as if he was about to be sent to the scaffold .

He was in his early forties, and the apprentice road-hogs he had trained had already left stress wrinkles on his forehead and bags under his eyes.

I didn't want to be his executioner, so I bade farewell to my dream of holding the steering wheel and playing a remake of 'Thelma and Louise' with my best friend.

Anyway, no regret, cause I care for her and giving her a lift would have been life-threatening, you see what I mean ...

As years went by, I got used to being the front seat passenger and getting on Dearhubby's nerves with my constant warnings (how come he still can't get used to them ?).

To compensate for my lack of licence, I have done my best to master the art of driving shopping-carts, and I've passed the test with flying colours ! That's something I can brag about !

I am the Queen of the shopping-trolley corrals !

Whatever the coin, the token or the card to insert, no shopping-cart  rebels ! I can  unlock one a in wink and its wheels never jam !!

Can you believe that ?

Yes ?

Well, you're wrong ! It's a bundle of lies ! I'm just like you. I often struggle with faulty carts ! Some of them are even so sneaky that they pretend to run smoothly, and then get stuck just when I'm passing through the revolving doors !!

But I have tremendous drive, and up to now none has driven me nuts !

So, whatever the trolley, I don't really mind household shopping. I know the local supermarket layout so well that I could go on my shopping trip in my sleep !

I know all their tricks, and I have a tried-and-true way not to fall for them :

a well-planned and well-organized shopping list !

Thanks to it, no wandering along the aisles aimlessly, no waste of time, no impulse buys, just what I need and nothing else !

Smart and easy, isn't it ? Yes, but unfortunately often untrue !

My tricky shopping list manages, either to  stay comfy at home, or to get lost on a display !

Then, the only thing I can do is rely on my memory, so more often than not I end up buying needless things and forgetting what I had come for.

That's what happened two weeks ago.

It was Dearhubby's birthday, and I had planned to invite a couple of friends to share a ' a choucroute '. Not typically English, but so hearty and comforting when the weather turns chilly.

All the way to the supermarket, I was clutching my precious list and trying to learn it by heart, just in case ...

For once, Dearhubby could drive quietly without any of my "brake! slow down ! watch out ! " background music !

Believe me or not, I guess I am doomed to challenge my memory,cause while I was unlocking a shopping-cart, a strong gust of wind blew away my damned list !

I ran after it, but in vain ! The faster I ran, the farther it flew !

So, I gave up, cause the Breton wind is strong and stubborn , and I knew it could turn my shopping list into a weathercock in a squall !

I had to do my shopping from memory, and treading along the aisles and picking up the right ingredients for a choucroute was far from being a walk in the park ...

Anyway, while queueing at the check-out, I was, I must confess, quite proud of myself : the sauerkraut, the ham hock, the knackwursts and the different  kinds of sausages were just waiting quietly in the bottom of the cart to simmer and make us happy !

Not so surprising yet, cause, if honey bees are able to remember the scent of the countless number of flowers they visit, why a perky busy bee should not be able to memorize a shopping  list !

All the way back home, I kept harping on about my memory and how accurate it was !

What a braggart !!

I should have remembered a Spanish proverb I learnt at school :

   " Tell me what you brag about, and I'll tell you what you lack ".

As soon as back home, Bragging  Perky had to eat humble pie : juniper berries and mustard were reported missing, or, to be honest, my so-called unfailing memory was just like a sieve !

Well, juniper berries were optional, but a choucroute without mustard made no sense !

No, mustard was a must (hey, that's a good mnemonic when shopping for a choucroute, isn't it ?).

So, I had to swallow my pride, and asked Dearhubby to give me a lift back to the supermarket.

He accepted, but couldn't hep saying :

  " By the way,have you thought of writing a chapter about Memory

     Leaks ? ".

I didn't reply.

He dropped me off in front of the supermarket, and stayed in the car, but, just as I was about to go through the entrance doors, he put down the window and shouted :

   " Perky, juniper berries and mustard,will you be able to remember ? "

I just shrugged my shoulders and went my way .

I knew where the condiments department was, so I was done with my small shopping in a wink.

That's when I came across a cousin of mine I had not seen for over six months.

Too bad !

Come on, I do love my relatives,but you remember that chatting is the favourite sport of the women in my family !

So, time to tell her I was in a hurry, and half-an-hour had gone by !

Time to part and say good-bye, and the sneaky needles of my watch had moved one quarter ahead !!

Chitchats are time-consuming, aren't they ?

Unfortunately, Dearhubby is not aware of that, or, at least, he pretends he can't make it out !

I had to find another excuse, cause cooling his heels for nearly one hour was something difficult to swallow. Yes ,for sure, much more difficult to swallow than a hearty portion of choucroute !

Telling him that juniper berries were not ripe enough and that the shop-assistant had to go and pick up others was a phoney excuse, wasn't it ?

So what ? Too late to think it over !!

I rushed out. It was drizzling and night was falling, but I could see our car headlights fading away !

Sure, after waiting so long, Dearhubby was beside himself and had decided to teach me a lesson !

I still had a flicker of hope not to go all the way back home on foot and get soaked to the bones : at the parking exit there was a roundabout, and Dearhubby would have to slow down and yield priority to the flow of traffic quite heavy at that time of the day.

I ran over the speed limit, and could catch up with my raging chauffeur.

I knocked madly at the window, and cried :

   " Open the door, that's not funny ! I'll explain ! Come on, don't play

      dumb, I'm getting drenched ! ".

The window went down, and behind the wheel there was a man I didn't know, looking at me suspiciously !

Before I could utter an apology, another car stopped beside me, another window went down, and a voice said :

   "Perky, once more you are harassing drivers ! Stop immediately and

    get in our car ! You remember what the psy said about harassers,

    don't you ? So, be a good girl, get in and take your tranquillizer ! ".

Jeez ! What a disgrace ! I was feeling mortified, and to put an end to Dearhubby's snarky joke, I hopped into our car !

All the way back home I kept silent. After such a shameful misfortune, I was far from feeling as keen as mustard !!

That's all for this week, folks !

Enjoy your meal, and don't forget : be perky !!

PS : By the way, the choucroute was delicious !

           

FOOD FOR THOUGHT

CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR :

           

                              

Today I'll start by paying a tribute to the queens and kings of the mops, brooms, dusters and squeegees who gave me their helpful housework-handy tips, and their clever shortcuts to speed up my deadly boring cleaning routine !

Thanks a lot also to those who suggested me links to cleaning blogs

(flylady.net seems to win general approval ), and to housework music playlists.

I guess i'll try all of them, even though regarding music I already know that for me it doesn't work that well !

Let me explain.

As mopping the floor is one of my pet peeves, once, to make that chore, let's say " more bearable ", I decided to put some background music on.

I needed something which would make me want to move.

Sure, the Rolling Stones would rock my mop forward and backward with such a great beat that, before I could say Jack Robinson,the floor would be spick and span !

Half-an-hour later, when the rock band stopped for a break, I was sweating and panting, but the floor was none the cleaner.

I had been jiggling around a lot, trying to mimic Mick Jager (in spite of his " You're so vain " warning song ), and all this time the cheeky mop had been taking it easy, dripping slowly but surely into the bucket !

Slower music ? Well, it would mean flicking the feather duster gently on dog paws stains, and just expecting some miracle to happen ?

Just a fairy tale ! Forget about it !

No, sorry, to keep my dance floor in good condition, I really need to keep focused on the task, so a blanket ban on any kind of music when doing that chore !

The only background music : my heavy sighs and my angry mumblings !

Anyway, with all the feedback I've received, I think I could start my own business as a housework coach. All the easier as , as the saying goes " Advice is cheap ".

So, if you need cleaning gimmicks, don't hesitate to drop me a mail*. I'll be happy to share my brand-new knowledge !

Last week, as I was feasting on your pretty witty tips and tricks to get rid of chores quickly or to wriggle out of them ( becoming a cavewoman was a real brainwave !), I spotted a mail with an attachment.

Quite unusual. Sometimes, you add links or photos to your messages, but never attached documents or files.

I know that email attachments can be harmful, but, as up to then my anti-virus software had been quite reliable, I thought I couldn't deprive myself of any good reading or advice.

For once, " curiosity kills the cat " proved wrong !

The mailI read was absolutely adorable!

Tricia said that she had always been a dog-lover, but, as she was living in a block where pets were not allowed, she was feeling kind of frusrated.

So, she was offering me her free service as a dog-walker !

Actually, the attached document was her résumé.

Her love for dogs was really unconditional : volunteering at the local animal shelter to walk the dogs in her free-time, raising funds for the shelter, getting food donated by pet-food suppliers, boy, that girl was an incredible dogs' guardian angel !!

Unfortunately, she had a job and could not dogsit for us several days in a row, so we could not make a deal.

Anyway, we exchanged quite a few friendly mails and phone-calls, cause dog-lovers always have plenty of pawsome stories simmering !

We discovered that we are both dogaholics, and that neither of us is on the way to recovery.

When I told her that years ago I was scared stiff of dogs, she said she knew, cause she had read " Flying Potatoes ( chapter 54), but she couldn't believe it .

She thought I had made up the whole of it for the blog.

Of course, not !!

All my stories are true, they are just  everyday life small events, but I give you only the bright side of them !!

As she wanted to know how I managed to overcome my fear of Dusty, the English basset who turned my first stay in England into a nightmare, I told her the rest of my doggy adventure...

That very first year, when I left England, Dusty and I were not in good terms at all !

My English family was awfully sorry and ashamed, too, of their bad

boy's behaviour, but unfortunately couldn't stop his growling at me.

The year after, when I went back for a two months' stay , my decision was made : Grumpy Dusty would not rule the roost . I would get the upper hand !

Then came the queston : how ?

Petting him ? Just thinking about it sent shivers all along my spine. His sharp sparkling teeth, his lip smacking noises while gazing greedily at my fingers ? No way !

So what ?

I spent the whole crossing from Dover to Southampton hatching plans to tame the fierce dog.

Unfortunately, as soon as I stepped into the garden, they all fell through !

Dusty started humming his war song and immediately mylegs turned to jelly !

Anyway, I managed to pretend I could not care less, but in my mind I was thinking : " Here we go again ! ".

While unpacking, I racked my brain to find a peaceful solution.

What on earth could work  a miracle and coax Dusty ?

Sure, my enemy number one had a chink in his armor !

And then the lady called me : " Perky, dinner is ready ! ".

Dinner ? Bingo !

Dusty was always peckish, and at meal times he was in agony !

Whatever the scolding or the punishment, he could not help begging for bits of what we were having. But my hostess was strict : she wanted to keep the leadership, so the poor starving little thing was not allowed anything, not even the tiniest breadcrumb !

He was given his food only once the table was cleared !

Well, if bribing him during dinner was absolutely forbidden, in the feeding rules there was no mention of " after dinner ".

I had the solution ! I was saved !!

I would prepare his food bowl, and become his favourite waitress !

As soon as we sat down at table, Dusty started turning around my chair, begging for food, scratching my leg and growling sneakily.

He was not the least upset by his mistress's threatening " Stop it,

naughty boy, otherwise...".

Dusty was grumpy, but pretty clear-sighted : threat ? Much ado about nothing, just hot air !

He knew he was his mum's sugar baby, and nothing wrong could happen to him !

Once more my hostess was sorry and apologized, but dinner was over, I stood up and said :

" Don't worry, I will eat him ! ".

She stared at me, horrified ! Her cute little dog turned into a hot dog ?

She knew French people were said to eat snails and frogs, but she had never heard about dog meat on sale at the butcher's !

Had her poor doggy got on my nerves that much ?

As she was still staring at me, I suddenly realized I had confused " to eat and to feed ", or to be honest, the verb " to feed " did not belong to my poor vocabulary yet.

As Hungry Dusty was getting fed up (but not fed yet), I rushed to the kitchen and came back with his bowl and his favourite dry pet food !

He wagged his tail, smiled at me (come on, I'm kidding. Just my vivid imagination again), and followed me cheerfully to his dinning-mat.

Then, all throughout my stay, I was the one in charge of filling his bowl (and his stomach, as well), and that's how we became good buddies !!

And, also, how I learnt that the verb " to feed " means to give food !

Well, thanks again for your feedback : you really spoon-feed me, and it gives food for thought !!

That's all for this week, everydoggy !

Have a nice week and don't forget : be perky !

                                    

                                                              

UNDER COVER AGENT

CHAPTER NINETY-THREE :

                     

Hello all of you,

First of all, thanks a lot for all your feedback. You're absolutely awesome ! When scrolling down my inmail box, I realize that, whatever the topic, you never hesitate to drop me a few lines ! Your comments are often spicy, your questions sometimes nosy (come on, I'm pulling your leg), but always blog-boosting !

You know what ?

I enjoy reading your mails so much that this week I can't help asking you another question !

As usual, nothing to do with current hot issues,politics, economics and all that jazz. One click is enough to get overwhelmed by information about all that stuff !

And you know the old saying " Stick to what you know ", so forget about any serious matter in this blog.

Then what ?

Sports ? Except walking and chatting (it isn't a sport ? Well, for the women in my family it is !), I am not good at any. Just have a look at

" Woman overboard " , and you'll see what a poor athlete I am !

Arts ? Same thing ! Too many bad memories ! When I was in primary school ( An artistic calling nipped in the bud),and when I took my high school diploma in literature,too. The essay question was

" What is art ? ". I guess I didn't write anything relevant or witty, cause I got a very poor mark ! So, no need to rub it in !

I'm just a perky busy bee, and I won't pretend to be a nerd. Then, no brainy question, just a very down-to-earth one !

Bid Farewell to your Dreams, your bucket lists, and your expectations, here it comes :

What is the home chore you hate the most, I mean, in the endless list of unrewarding housework to be done, what is your pet peeve ?

Don't shy away ! I know, choosing the worst from the worst is no picnic,so for fear you might be on the horns of a dilemna, here is a list to pick up from :

. Making your bed.

. Planning meals.

. Hoovering.

. Ironing.

. Taking the trash out.

Quite short but long enough to ring a bell, isn't it ?

I'm already looking forward to your answers, and I'm sure we'll share quite a few bad feelings towards brooms, mops,dusters  and all their relatives !

In the meantime, let me tell you what sort of " domestic goddess " I am. Don't laugh, please !

Taking the trash out : even if it is heavy or bulky, I don't mind, cause I usually put the bag into the car boot, and when going on a ride, we stop at the nearby container to throw it away. Lazy of me ? Remember, the roads are rather steep around my place ( " Trivia quiz "), and what's more, I'm a poor lonesome pedestrian (" Urban or urbane" ).

As I am sometimes sidetracked, instead of being given a lift to its destination, the bin bag happens to be shown round the area ( no matter, cause it is worth sightseeing !).

Ironing : I wouldn't say it is my cup of tea, but I find that activity quite ressourceful. First, because, as soon as I pop out the ironing board and let off the steam, I start mapping out a chapter of my adventures. One crease out, one line in ! A good way to keep up to date with crumpled linen and my blog,as well.

Ressourceful,too, cause ironing gives me the opportunity to exercise. Standing upright, tucking in my stomach, tightening my thighs and buttocks,wow, that's pretty good work-out !!

Hoovering : a pain in the neck, and a pain in the back, too ! But, two dogs at home means a lot of hairs and sneaky dustbunnies in every nook and cranny, so...

Oh, by the way, in " Urban or urbane ", I told you that the only things I can drive are stroller, shopping-carts and wheelbarrows. Well, I must add the vacuum-cleaner. At least one who knows I have the drive !

Planning meals : a real headache, but as I am often peckish, I need to know what ' today's special " is , otherwise I can wolf down anything lazing in the fridge. Even worse, if I skipped that chore, I guess I would binge on pasta everyday, and I don't want to turn " The Adventures of Dany the Perky Busy Bee " into a spaghetti western !

Making the bed : if it means , just tucking the sheets tightly round the corners of the mattress, and spreading the duvet evenly over the bed, no problem !

But when it comes to changing the duvet corner, that's another kettle of fish ! All the trickier as we have a super king size bed !

I've tried all the tips and tricks I could find on the web, and, boy, there are quite a few !!

Unfortunately, even after watching countless numbers of videos, I must face the facts : I don't have the know-how, and what's worse, I'm rather clumsy.

You remember how in " Changing looks ", I turned a nice pencil dress into an awful straightjacket. Well, not long ago, I got the same nightmarish experience while changing the quilt cover...

I thought that perhaps holding the duvet tight against me and slipping with it into the cover would ease the battle . No sooner said than done.

I laid the cover on the bed, grabbed the upper corners of the duvet, and started crawling inside.

A few minutes later I was stuck in the darkness, still clutching the precious corners, but unable to find my way out.

The more I twisted and turned, the more I got entangled into the fabric .

I wish I had been Steve Mc Queen in " The Great Escape " !

Unfortunately, no light at the end of the tunnel !

I strived to stand up, and just when I was about to succeed, Nosy Canaille pawed the door open, didn't recognize the ghost of his Mum, and jumped on me.

I was back to square one !!

Lying emprisonned in my fabric jail, and on the verge of death. Come on, I'm joking, but yet, about to surrender.

If I survived I would call for a blanket ban on duvets at home !

At last, Dearhubby, alerted by Canaille's barkings, turned up and got me out of the trouble, or, I should say, out of the duvet cover !

So, now you know why making my bed is my biggest pet peeve.

That's you turn to tell me what chore you hate the most.

But, whatever it is, don't forget : be perky !

Oh, by the way, the proverb 'As you make your bed, you must lie on it ' is not always true, otherwise I'd be doomed to awfully uncomfortable nights !

Perky Busy Bee, your under cover agent in the Far-West.