• About
  • Masthead Picture
  • My Books
  • The Vieux Chateau du Cros

Victoria Corby

~ Reading, writing, living in France

Victoria Corby

Monthly Archives: April 2014

Old Friends

10 Thursday Apr 2014

Posted by victoriacorby in Uncategorized

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

Birthdays, friendship, Theo Wayte

Theo, one of my oldest – in the sense that I’ve known her for ever – friends is having a big birthday today.  As well as getting her an embarrassingly small birthday present because it was easy to post in Bordeaux I got to thinking how very lucky I am in that I still have two very good friends whom I have known from my earliest childhood.

While it’s true that probably the longest relationship I’ll have with anyone in my life is with my brother, who’s four years older than me, (and to that end I wish he’d give up the cigars), my memories of Celestria and Theo go back nearly of far.  In fact they are much clearer than those of my brother.  He was always around so there’s nothing in particular that stands out, whereas I can remember being taken to play with Celestria when I was three.  My first encounter with Theo when we were both four is even clearer.  We’d been to the pantomime in Nottingham and my parents’ car broke down at her uncle’s house.  Theo and I had to share a bed and we had an energetic kicking session.  She won. I fell out.  You don’t forget something like that.

Funnily enough I can't find a single picture of Theo and me together, there are lots I've taken of her and likewise her of me so we'll have to make do with this.  Even at 9 Theo would have probably done a fair likeness, she's a brilliant artist, this is about my level artwise - even now.

Funnily enough I can’t find a single picture of Theo and me together, there are lots I’ve taken of her and likewise her of me, so we’ll have to make do with this. Even at 9 Theo would have probably done a fair likeness, she’s a brilliant artist, this is about my level artwise – even now.

Theo and I shared a governess for two energetic years – we showed the boys in the village on several occasions that girl power ruled when it came to fighting, and were at the same boarding school for another two.  Luckily for me I was sent to another establishment where you actually learnt something when I was 13.  It wasn’t that long ago but there was still a distinct feeling amongst our parents’ generation that it wasn’t actually necessary for girls to be anything other than decorative.  We’d see each other occasionally in the holidays, usually at teenage parties, picking up from where we’d left off – and it’s been like that ever since.  We travelled out to Australia together when we were 21, having really not socialised much for the couple of years before, but somehow absolutely confident that we be good travelling companions.  Amazingly enough, I don’t remember one row.

We’ve been living in different countries for twenty years now and months can go by with not a lot of communication then a comment on Facebook will lead to one of those telephone calls that leaves the OH shaking his head and wondering what women can find to talk about.  And at such length. It’s the same with Celestria whom I’ve seen even less of over the years as she lives too far away to make quick visits viable when I am in England, even so when we do meet we drop straight back into that instant familiarity that comes from knowing someone for a long time and having a wealth of shared memories.

Of course if it hadn’t been for our parents knowing each other and thinking that we were ‘suitable’ as playmates our friendships would never have got off the ground.  That’s life when you’re four.  But it’s not just propinquity and our parents’ approval that is responsible for our still being friends; I grew apart from and lost interest in my other childhood companions long ago.

I’ve made some wonderful and very good friends as I got older, especially after we moved to France which give the lie to that gloomy shibboleth that you make all your friends by your late twenties; after that they’re acquaintances.  Happily not so for me, and I trust not for others either because life has changed and I doubt many of the younger generation get the chance to make lifelong friends in the way my generation did.  You need total stability for that with everyone’s parents settled in one place so that you don’t form a tight bond over a shared love of The Worst Witch only to find that Mummy or Daddy’s job means they have to move three hundred miles away.  Children today might have much more exciting lives than I did – “creative boredom” could well be the watchword for my childhood – but there are some advantages to the old days.

Still having friends with whom you shared your early childhood is one of them.

Learning Something New…

07 Monday Apr 2014

Posted by victoriacorby in France

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

chocolatine, pain au chocolat

A year or so ago I wrote about the perils of language, and getting things wrong.  Mainly it was to do with pronunciation, I’d still be very wary of telling the vet that the dog had something wrong with his cou (neck) or his queue (tail) because I’m certain I’d pronounce it as cul (arse) and I know that I’ve picked up some words off the girls which probably shouldn’t be used by a respectable matron who’s getting on a bit.  Then I discovered via Facebook, that while I may be better integrated than I thought I was in many ways it doesn’t necessarily mean that I speak decent French.  Not as they would see it in Paris anyway.

One of my friends posted a splendid link in French of 24 signs that show that you’re a Bordelais which hits the spot in several places.  One of the notable ones being the one that states the Bordelais aren’t afraid of rain; if we were we’d be frightened a lot of the time. The average rainfall here is as high as the south of England and if you’ve ever wondered why the countryside in the Dordogne is so green and verdant, that’s why…   It’s followed by ‘Except when you’re in the rue Sainte Catherine…’

The rue Sainte Catherine is supposed to be the longest pedestrianised shopping street in Europe and was completely repaved in smart, shiny new paving stones a few years ago.  Just to add interest to the daily shopping experience the planners decided that the central part of the street – the road bit where the utility and delivery vehicles are allowed to go – would be raised above the pavement part by about 3 – 4 centimetres, the demarcation line being marked by an apparently wheelchair-friendly curved curb.  It probably seemed like a good idea, in practice shoppers stumble off the curb all the time, if it’s dry.  After the smallest shower of rain all the smart, shiny tiles become as slippery as if they’d been oiled and rue SaiNte Catherine begins to look as if it’s populated by zombies with everybody shuffling along the sides of the shops, seeking dry ground and too wary to lift their feet off the ground in case their foot skids away from them.

Number 2 is an absolute classic and was one of the first things I learnt when coming to live here.  In the sud-ouest when we eat a croissanty snack with two sticks of chocolate in it, we’re eating a chocolatine not a pain au chocolat.  And you can see why:

chcoWe’ve got logic on our side I feel, though the rest of France doesn’t agree.  Here’s a map showing where the right-thinkers live

la-carte-des-resultats-pain-au-chocolat-vs-chocolatine_936710_460x306and we’re in the definite minority.

Number 13 is a completely new one to me.  When you’re in the supermarket here and you want something to put your shopping in, you ask for a poche.  That’s what it’s called, always has been called, as far as I’m concerned.  According to the article, the rest of France puts their shopping in a sac, which in a way makes sense as the literal meaning of poche is pocket, whereas sac means bag.  A friend from Paris told me that the first time she was asked if she wanted a poche she really didn’t know what the assistant was talking about.  There are variants on poche too,

chocco Though I can’t help wondering if this isn’t just a case of teasing Parisians…

Recent Posts

  • Old Friends
  • Learning Something New…
  • The Reading Box
  • Enfin, le Soleil…
  • Roofers – 0, Mrs Corby’s Emergency Roof Repair Service – 1

Recent Comments

jay53 on Knocked down by a feather
antalya escort kızla… on Knocked down by a feather
alexraphael on I’m trying…
alexraphael on The Reading Box
alexraphael on Old Friends

Archives

  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012
  • August 2012
  • July 2012
  • June 2012
  • May 2012
  • April 2012
  • March 2012
  • February 2012
  • January 2012
  • December 2011
  • November 2011
  • October 2011

Blogroll

  • Writing Home
  • Desperate Anglo Housewives Bordeaux
  • Literary Relish
  • Crimepieces
  • Susie Kelly
  • Life on La Lune
  • fotoartdirect
  • Read Eng, Didi's Press
  • Steve Bichard
  • French Immersion

Categories

  • Books
  • Cats
  • Cooking
  • Desert Island Bookcase
  • Dogs
  • France
  • Gardening
  • Historical Monuments
  • New Experiences 2012
  • Reading
  • Uncategorized
  • Vieux Chateau du Cros
  • Wildlife
  • Writing

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

About my books on Facebook

Victoria Corby, Author

Promote your Page too

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • Victoria Corby
    • Join 81 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Victoria Corby
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...