Bloody computers!

Just when I get connected, my brand new expensive computer is kaput!!Who knows how long it will take to fix, I have been waiting 3 weeks for nails for my nail gun. I said I wouldnt get frustrated didnt I. My sculpture for Italy is going well (even with a hammer!) and now without a computer I`ll have even more time. My phone in France is 0033 (0) 636613334 if you want to contact me. Not that I`m desperate for friends!!

At last I have internet in my house. It's only taken 3 weeks which is phhh! nothing. I don't get frustrated with the speed (snailpace) that things work here, it makes you stop and think. However having internet makes the world seem much smaller and New Zealand not quite so far away. A few photos below of my whereabouts.




My garden towards my house



the view of the mountains from my workshop



The entrance to my abode



A typical visitor




A typical tableau for aperitif




Caught working in my makeshift workshop

Run rabbit run!

So I take this half lapin (rabbit, 2 euro) and discard the eyes. Now I don't know if dey have four-eyed rabbits in France, it's a wonder dey catch dem if dey have. Anyway the two eyes are gone, kaput, I mean if you invite yo friends to eat and dey see dem seeing dem dey not be coming back. Well I chops him up a bit an flours him and puts him in a hot pan wif da local olive oil til he is brown all over and smelling good. Bang he is in da pot. Den I find da veges I have in de bottom of de cupboard, onion, carrot, corjet?, potato, garlic, fenuil (fennel) an I chops dem big and hearty and browns dem in de pan til they smell etc. Bang dey are in de pot too. Now yo best cognac yo put in a glass and drink quick(da world might end before yo are finished!, yo worst brandy yo put in de hot pan an flambo (light with a match dear boy, you numbskull!) an scrape up all de goodies from da bottom. Bingo into da pot. Yo cover with water. On no account do yo drink da water, the same without alcohol is very dangerous! Throw three handfuls of de brown lentil, some salt, fat peppercorns, herbs de provence (or whatever), a little chilli and simmer for 14 days. But, But! Yo must eat after 2-3 hours. Now I don't tell yo to taste but yo should know by now. After the good cooking (the shorter version) yo have by yo side, balsamic, soy sauce, red wine vinegar an yo taste an yo add a little an yo taste. Need more chilli? Need more salt? Da lapin must have a balance and his eyes are still watchin yo to make sure yo balance him right.
OK yo can use da chicken if yo want!

The town plane trees stand imprisoned in concrete, their leperous arms raised up with small baton fingers in a plea for spring to send new clothes and a neighbour also leperous with whiskers and the detrius of life and in need of new clothes spouts old wisdom in great gusts of French while his dog Poupoul looks on in disgust. He's heard it all before. He says non to wine but manages to drink a lot and with each emphasis he pulls his chair closer to the table till he cannot move so he must leave but after he is up and away he thinks of something else and he is back with the dance of the chair and his big secret. He is an Anarchist!! I can't remember if I've met an anarchist before but he fits the bill.
I feel we are going to be good friends.

In France wireless internet sux!! It appears to be everywhere but connection and security codes etc etc make it difficult so I havenèt been able to keep you up with my adventures.
travelled quickly south in a rented car(to try and warm up), stayed with friends of friends in NW Provence and more f of f near Marseille, bought a Puegeot 406 (so now I am French!) and then travelled back up to an apartment in Gagniere a very small town an hour from Avignon where the locals look at me very strangely, is it the hat or the popcorn machine strapped to my back!! The apt is on the second floor of a large house and has lovely big rooms and opens out to a large garden where I can work. The family live below, Mum, Dad and 4 boys and are great fun with lots going on.
Still need tools and materials before I can start my sculpture but at least I have a place to build it. I am finding the language difficult, I ca make myself understood a little but have no idea what they are saying. I will have to continue to work hard on it.
The bread and cheese are just as I remembered them!

Paris

From the coddled, easy life he is jet-thrusted into the veins and battle scarred arteries of the city he loves. The train sheek, sheek, sheeks and the chic,chic,chic Parisian women live up to their reputation from toe to coiffure. Ah, the city of springtime love. But not now as she spits him in the face and fumbles his coat with icy fingers while he limps along with arthritic knives in his hip and knee and the Georges Pompideau is closed so no succour from Lucian Freud. The computer lied, the language is not remotely like what it taught him but after a friendly pernod and a new sun on his back he knew there was a poem there somewhere.