Jen Black's Blog, page 108

Dear Agent

St Laurent des BatonsI'n blogging again today so I can get back on my normal Monday, Wednesday, Friday routine. I have to confess that not a lot has happened since yesterday, but this morning I went wild and made 4 purchases on Kindle!

I've just finished a book I bought for free - I often wonder if the verb to buy can be used when something is free - anyway, I acquired "Natural Causes" from the Kindle Free list, and thoroughly enjoyed it. The author, James Oswald, publishes via Devildog Publications, which seems to be his own electronic publisher. (And that is Food for Thought right there.)

I acquired another of Oswald's free list this morning, and then went on and bought Nicola Morgan's How to Write a Synopsis and Dear Agent. They too are low-priced on Kindle at the moment. I love the way I click on Buy on my PC, switch on my Kindle and in a second or two - La! The story is there on my Kindle. So a big chunk of today will be spent in reading Dear Agent.
I don't know about anyone else, but I find holidays so disruptive to the working process. I've been home seven full days now, and I've very little to show for it. Yes, I'm ashamed of myself. Yes, I will sit in this chair and work all of the weekend until I have a new chapter to show for it.

Jaded

I have to say I'm wearying of the Olympics now. Twelve days, thirteen days...at first it was great, but I'm starting to wish for something else to watch of an evening. Yesterday we had guests, and the day before that my new laptop arrived and I spent an afternoon setting it up, so my work rate has been minimal so far this week. A measly 800 words is my total creative effort, and I'm not sure that I want half of those. The scene I wrote is entertaining - but I would think that, wouldn't I? But the scene doesn't have conflict, there's no suspense, no drama and no emotional intensity. I merely had a little fun with my chief female protagonist. Sigh. The scene will probably hit the wastebin very soon.

Yet another deadline for an agent has passed with no response to my submission. No acknowledgement of receipt, no rejection, nothing. Did they ever receive it? Sending submissions by e-mail always leaves me fraught with doubt that it ever gets to the intended agent. I sent a follow-up query on Monday, and so far that has produced no response either. I'm surprised, since MBA always seemed such a well established firm.

The picture? The Mairie in St Laurent des Batons. Almost every French village has one of these, and they're usually very smart and well-kept; a sort of Town Hall and Information Centre.

Retail therapy

St Laurent de BatonsWe got back into the swing of things by going shopping this morning. Our excuse, should we need one, is that we wanted a birthday gift for daughter-in-law. It was only after we'd got it that we sort of drifted away into retail madness. M&S in the Gateshead Metrocentre is probably my favourite shop for clothes, and the entire stock seemed to have changed since we went on holiday. I found two blouses and a skirt I liked, and splurged. It's actually the first skirt I've bought in years, because I seem to live life in slacks and jeans. Then it was off to find a new mattrass cover, then off to Lakeland where we bought a potato ricer (dh finds it such a strain to mash potatoes for fish pie!) which satisfied dh's liking for gadgets, and then into Smith's to buy a magazine about laptops.

St Marcel du PerigordThat's where we came unstuck. We bought two things, and each time we were instructed to use the self-service till even though we didn't want to learn how to use it. We like the personal touch, the cheery smile from a sales assistant, and see no pleasure at all in doing it ourselves with some stupid machine. We probably won't patronise W H Smith's ever again until they change their policy.

Then, once we got home, we read the magazine, made a choice between two laptops, checked online and bought a different one. I must have one, without all the entertainment, music and film capability they offer these days. E-mails, internet and Word are what I want for when we go to Australia later this year. My poor old Sony has given faithful service but I've broken it - the hinges shattered one day. The Samsung Notebook I bought dh for Christmas three years ago drove me demented in France because there was so much it couldn't do. The technology has moved on beyond it's capabilities. It couldn't handle loading pics onto my blog very well, which is why you'll see a few more shots of France for the next few days.

Strangers

The Mill at St PierreIn the last couple of days at the mill, the local farmer cut the small but ripe wheat crop only yards from the mill  - not that we noticed him until we went out for a walk to St Pierre and discovered he'd been and gone. He probably displaced a lot of creatures, which we think is the reason why dh suddenly said as we sat on the sofa watching the tv on Tuesday night, 'There's a mouse.'

There was; in fact there were two. They seemed totally unphased by our presence across the hearth rug. Dh put down some blue pellets (poison) and then we sat and watched the little things munch their way through them. Harvest mice are a lovely golden brown, and really cute. They can move like greased lightning, almost too fast to see. Left to myself, I would not have put the stuff down, but dh wouldn't hear of it. 'By the time Jenny and David come down, there'll be a colony of mice, not just two,' he said.

So next morning I made dh go into the living room first to see if there were any dead bodies, but he returned to the bedroom saying all was clear. We closed all the shutters, left all the internal doors open so the air can flow around the house and put all food stuffs out of reach of mice, because they get into the most peculiar places.

Our journey home was uneventful and stress free.
The miles flew by and we arrived in Caen far too early for the overnight ferry back to Portsmouth, so we strolled around enjoying the sunshine. Actually, the ferry port is not Caen, but eight miles away on the coast at Ouistreham - a place that seems to draw tourists to the Normandie beaches Sword and Juno, where the wartime evacuation took place during October 1944.

Last days

me, outside Lou PeyrolLast days of holidays are always busy and always sad, but there’s also the readiness to go home. That’s how it is for me; I’ve enjoyed my three weeks in France but now I’m starting to miss my garden, my routine of work and being touch with friends.  So, we’ve decided what we want to wear for the journey home, packed the rest into the car, and swept out the mill to leave it clean and tidy for Jenny and David.

Last night we went over to Lou Peyrol again and this time we both had Kir Royales as an aperitif. We never have blackcurrent liqueur with champagne once we're home, but it is lovely to do it now and then, and I think Lou Peyrol is our favourite restaurant. The chef manages to get such intense flavours into the food that each course is a delight, from the amuse bouche and the tomato foam with a miniature savoury tart to the  ravishing desserts. Bill tried the ballotine de canard on my recommendation and groaned in pleasure. As it was our last visit for a year, he decided to treat himself and go for the steak and declared it the best steak he’d ever eaten, while I had the delicious monkfish on a bed of black rice and chorizo.  My chocolate dessert with roasted hazel nuts was the kind of heavy semi-solid mousse that sticks to your teeth, and Bill had a vacherin with strawberries and red fruit coulis…
 Specials at Lou PeyrolIn spite of the Kirs and the wine, I drove home this time, hoping all the farmers driving enormous tractors pulling flat beds loaded with hay bales had gone home to bed, because they take up all the road and it's take to the heather time for any car in their path.On the way we finally saw two deer grazing in the middle of a field. We thought the holiday was going to pass without seeing any at all, but these two saw the car, sped off and leapt the hedge into the forest. Wildlife has been scarce; we haven’t seen Monsieur Renard at all, the squirrel only once, though we caught him on our wildlife camera. Some creature left quite a large turd on the five-bar gate yesterday morning and I couldn’t believe it was the squirrel, though it is on his route across the house roof, down the bolly uprights and along the fence and gate to the walnut tree.
So tomorrow the mill will be quiet again, the grass will grow high and all the creatures will relax because those interfering humans will have gone, gone gone.


Nearing the end

MontastrucSaw a snake this morning just where I was about to step off the bolly. Or rather, I saw what I thought was a lizard scuttling through the grass, so I stopped with one foot in the air. Then I noticed it didn’t have legs, was thin and black and wriggling. Sad to say it moved so fast I didn’t really see it go or where it went – well, the grass is getting well past ankle height again and it dived around the corner of the bolly, or even underneath the bolly. It was just after nine o’clock, and the creature must have been sunbathing. DH saw a snake at the start of the holiday, but we don’t know if this second sighting was the same snake. He said it was huge, but mine was barely more than eighteen inches if laid straight as a ruler. I expect they’re hunting the tiny lizards just out of the egg and barely the length of a matchstick.

We've kept up the biking - in fact we exhausted ourselves on Friday by misreading a) the weather (when it clouded over and the temperature dropped I thought it would be a good afternoon to go for a ride - but we'd only got half-way up the hill when the sun popped out again) and b) the map, taking a wrong turn, reaching a dead end and having to cycle all the way back again. Dh informed me that my face was scarlet when we got back to the mill - and it wasn't, let me tell you, scarlet with sunburn. Lou Peyrol last weekWe didn’t get the expected thunderstorms over the weekend, but we did get half an hour of heavy rain on Saturday night. Sunday we enjoyed a more equitable sunshine, the kind you can walk out in and sunbathe in.  But still, the midgies are here. Nothing's perfect.It's Monday morning now, and we're going to Lou Peyrol again tonight to enjoy a super meal to give ourselves strength for packing up and setting off on the long drive home first thing Wednesday morning. There'll be a lot of sweeping floors and dusting tomorrow, but that hardly counts as activity.

Whoops! Sorry about the pic but I can't see anything here to rotate it, and since it's dh's pc I don't want to risk messing anything up - I'd never hear the last of it.

Montastruc

The ChateauOn our way back from Bergerac yesterday we stopped so I could take photographs of the rather lovely Chateau de Montastruc near the river Caudeau. Every time we pass the gap in the greenery that signals the narrow side road leading to the chateau, I snatch a glimpse of it. This time I was determined to look more closely.

Built on top of natural limestone, the chateau rears up into the sky, and someone, at sometime, carved chambers out of the limestone at ground level. Click here to view the Chateau's own website. For those proficient in the French language, you can read it in that language, but I have taken pity on those who struggle as I do, and the link takes you to the English language site.
The website is large, and the detailed history of the place reports that parts of the foundation dates from the 5th century.  You might find the birdsong intrusive, but the pictures of the interior are worth a glimpse, and seeing the chateau in snow makes it look magical. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the place was for hire! The weather is calming down now. After impossible temperatures yesterday, (37 degrees C) the sky has clouded over and we may well get thunderstorms later according to the weather forecast. We'll have lunch and then think about going out for a short ride on our bikes.It's a pity, but I cannot get Blogger to load a second photograph - and I have so many just waiting to load up!.

Ballantine of duck

Ballantine of duck, wine-soaked pear and an apple and apricot chutneyOur meal at Lou Peyrol (http://restaurant-chambres-dordogne-perigord.com/?page_id=10) was as good as we’d hoped and the wine Fiona recommended rendered me unfit to drive back to the mill! We didn’t notice until the bottle was two thirds consumed that it was 14.5% proof. Dh had already consumed a Kir Royale, too. Just shows what a hard head he has. We’ve booked again for next Monday – same day, same time, same table. Next time I shall drive us home.

We slept late next morning, and were not the brightest sparks around camp for an hour or two. By the time we were really awake, it was too hot to go out on bikes, or walking, or even to stay in the sun. We did a bit of gardening in the shade under the trees and soon got hot and sticky. After 5pm we tried a short bike ride along the valley to the old church, but it was still too hot, so we cut the ride short and came back to eat dinner on the bolly. The only strange thing in the whole day was that I found half a mouse. Just half a stride off the bolly, little grey hind paws pathetic in the air, a small grey mouse had been neatly severed. If I’d done it with a cleaver, I couldn’t have done a neater job. But what would attack and half a mouse? The head half I never found.
Wednesday is, if anything, even hotter. The forecast is for 31 degrees today and 37 tomorrow, then thunderstorms on Friday. After my long sleep last night, this morning I was awake around five. I finally got up at five minutes to six, when it was just beginning to get light, and re-edited a chapter of the first Matho story. I’m adding more oomph wherever I can, and it is really pulling together. Certainly I’m more certain of Matho’s character than I was when I first wrote the book, so I know how far I can push him now. I'm also finding little inconsistencies of plot. A'hem! Always, always edit your work half a dozen times!

Lalinde and wildlife

Mauzac BarrageSaturday we packed the bicycles into the car and drove down to Lalinde on the Dordogne.  It was market day, throngs of people everywhere and cars in every nook and cranny. We were late, so couldn’t find anywhere to park. We drove on, found a spot outside of town with the canal on one side and the towpath along La Dordogne on the other, which was great. Off we tootled on our bikes along the towpath. When travelling along the Loire in the summer, you see lots of sandy islands and a couple of deep channels at this time of year, but La Dordogne is one stretch of water. Not very deep, admittedly, but wonderfully clear.

old ferry boat above the barrageWe biked along, admiring the expensive houses with gardens running down to the water and wondering why there were so many notices declaring Danger! And finally reached  the barrage at Mauzac les Baudies. The barrage is ugly from one side, but pretty on the other, and it is holding back an awful lot of water. A big board told when it was built etc etc, and explained that sudden releases of water, even in summer, can create vicious surges downstream. Hence all the notices to stay away from the river bank. We spent time in the little village, admiring the new sailing boats and the old wooden ferry boat that has weathered to a silver grey. Only the oars were new! We wandered among the old buildings, and then cycled back along the same route.
Sunday morning we decided to attack the invading brambles and nettles beside the pound, which is wht they call the atreams that direct water into what was once the mill pond. When we’d got the patch clear enough to walk to the top of the bank and look down at the stream we cleared out last year, we saw it was full of weed again. I attacked it with a garden rake, and dragged out weeds until dh said ‘There’s a snake!’ Sure enough, a yellow and black head emerged out of the water and weeds. I shot up the bank away from it, rake held at the ready. Then we saw it wasn’t a snake, but a lizard of some kind and felt guilty for disturbing it. When we looked it up on the internet, it’s a fire salamander. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fire_Salamander

Do we need water?

There was a programme on tv yesterday (BBC4) and like so many things at the moment, it had a connection to the Olympics. Not only are rail and customs people planning to go on strike just when they will cause the most damage to the UK's image, but it seems the makers of sports shoes and sports drinks have been misleading everyone for the last few years with their pronouncements of how every runner needs two litres of their particular sports drink before, during and after they run, and must wear particular shoes that probably cost a fortune so that the runners performance can be maximised.

Experts examined each and every claim and rubbished them all. Water, and not too much of it, will do nicely. Drink when you are thirsty and be aware that pre-loading water can be dangerous. Comfortable shoes that allow the feet to behave naturally are what you need if you don't want to run in bare feet, which would be best of all. Yeah! I hope all these people who walk around clutching water bottles in one hand and mobile phones in the other saw the programme, and I hope they take note. After all, the evidence is out there, staring us in the face if we care to look. All those runners from Ethiopia, one of the dryest places on earth, where the children run miles to school on a morning and run home in the evening - are they carrying litre bottles of water to keep them going? Of course not. Yet they can run the socks off western athletes. Come on people, get a grip.
St Laurent de Batons
We spent a happy time cycling over to Montclar again this morning, by the main road this time, bought a few groceries and enjoyed an Italian ice cream cornet before we cycled back home via a new route, which was pretty, but with lots of hills. Eventually I stopped trying to cycle uphill and pushed the bike up all the uphill bits - such relief from using a different set of muscles! All in all it took us two hours, so I feel I can sit at my computer now and try for another chapter of the wip without feeling guilty.

 Just for the record, the sun wasn't out this morning, and I remembered to keep my mouth shut while cycling (in case of flies!) with  he result that we didn't feel the need to stop and take a drink, though we had a bottle of water with us.