This weekend we went to the races and spent the day losing money at Ascot.
It turns out Ascot is pronounced Ascut through slightly gritted teeth especially when one’s horse is coming last.
It was a fun day out with no royals in sight but a bad day for me with a loss on every race. Big T broke even(ish) but it’s part of the fun (sort of!)
I’ve had a pair of jaunty yellow Max Mara trousers for a few years now and have loved them almost to death. The cost per wear is now into positive equity as they’ve been worn so many times they’ve paid for themselves hundreds of times over.
I’ve attempted to copy the pattern a few times and haven’t come close. Self taught pattern drafting is a huge challenge in itself while the original trousers are a stretch cotton twill has a 10% stretch elastane which makes all the difference to the fit but seems impossible to find.
Anyway, with an £8 remnant, I had another go and felt like I was making progress…
For my next attempt I have a beige 3% stretch cotton. I’ll use the same self drafted pattern but make it slightly smaller to allow for the stretch.
Luckily I like a challenge, have persistence and can’t afford Max Mara these days!
I’m back in France for a short break after the chaos of July and the heat of August. It’s quite lovely.
The pool is glorious, crystal clear and under the maintenance of a local pool company. No stress, no testing, no worrying, just the delight of swimming in a perfect pool, no sign of green anywhere.
The garden is drought tolerant so looks like it does every summer. The olive trees are abundant with ripening fruit, grapes have filled the vines and most of the garden has coped with the summer heat. It’s tranquil, shaded and calm with the sounds of insects buzzing and bird song breaking the silence. An oasis from recent events and the intolerable heat and humidity in London.
As for the plague of rats swarming through the house, well, there are no signs of errant rodents. Apparently one rat (deceased) is all it takes to incite panic and declare the house unfit for habitation.
With a pilgrimage to my favourite destination, Fragonard in nearby Grasse yesterday, things are feeling very relaxed and I shall be ready for the next two months as I work my notice until the end of October.
After the personal chaos of July, which has calmed down to be controllable, August has heated up… literally.
The fifth heatwave of the summer (who’s counting at this point) rolled in this week with yesterday’s high of 35°C being pretty unbearable and another day today forecast for 33°C. We’re all feeling very wilted; the dog, the house plants and me.
Tim has defected to France where things are very hot but there’s a blue pool, drought-tolerant plants and air conditioning so perhaps not so bad.
Everything in London is brown, burned to a crisp and as a neighbour described it, our local park looks like the savanna. And it does.
I constantly smell burning which may mean something sinister from a health perspective or perhaps the dry leaves are just roasting in the sun.
Autumn and summer have happened simultaneously as the trees are shedding their leaves and struggling after two months without rain. The irony being that it rained every day from January to April.
The English are a strange race, taking to the hard, dry earth to lie in the baking sun. No hats in sight, just bare, exposed flesh. I imagine skin cancers will be on the rise.
And to top it off, they went out en masse on Wednesday armed with colanders, pin hole cereal boxes and eclipse glasses to watch a partial solar eclipse. Madness. It was quite underwhelming as the sun was going down anyway and it felt like dusk.
It’s very concerning and while the days will shorten and the seasons will change, there’s no guarantee of a return to green. I suspect the north will be become the new south in the months or years to come. Scotland sounds lovely!
I decided to resign from my job!
I’d been thinking about it from the day I started as I was always over-qualified but after a year and a half, it’s done what I needed it to do, I’ve done way more work than I needed to, or was paid for!
It’s been a good experience, I’ve produced a ton of great work, I’ve got on well with my manager this time (not an easy feat for them or me) and I hope to exit with dignity (and freelance work) in three months time.
As for the future (and future earnings) we’ll see. This is another leap of faith (the last one being in 2012) and that worked out pretty well!
For the first time in a long time I’m feeling liberated!
This morning we received an email from the property managers in France terminating our contract immediately leaving us to sort out current and upcoming Airbnb bookings, complaining guests, a green pool and a dead rat (the rat had been removed of course)
It was incredibly unprofessional, apparently one of the reasons being that we hadn’t provided olive oil for the guests (we had, it had been used) and the property managers had bought olive oil and vinegar themselves. Petty.
The situation isn’t ideal, the heat has caused most of the problems but this wasn’t the way to handle it.
We spent the day putting out fires (apart from the real ones in France), cancelling one booking and discounting a couple of others to stop them complaining.
It was very stressful but after a weekend of endless messages, it will be relief when it’s over.
Roll on September!
What a weekend. We’ve been dealing with complaints from France all weekend as a rat had been spotted in the kitchen and the Airbnb guests were not happy.
Coupled with a green pool unable to cope with a heatwave and sunscreen, things have not been good.
Pest control were summoned immediately and before long a large rat (deceased) was removed from the house. We don’t know if he was a lone ranger or a party animal, we’ll certainly hear about it if there are any other rats.
The solution with all Airbnb complaints (and there are many) is to throw money at it and so, a significant refund was requested and we paid for those people to stay in our house.
The next guests arrived this afternoon unaware of ratgate and immediately complained about the pool. Given they’re on a discounted rate and couldn’t find a youth hostel for the same price, I’m sure we’ll be paying them off as well.
At this stage we’re praying the other bookings cancel as the policy is that hosts have to pay exorbitant cancellation fees.
On a positive note, the rat didn’t complain about anything and has so far been the best guest of the season. Pity he died really.
This was my first striped garment for the summer, a dramatic green and white(ish) stripe in a cotton linen. Challenging to align the stripes and a slightly heavier weight fabric made the dress a little bulkier.
I decided to add a belt (for more formal occasions) but I can wear it without the belt for going to the circus.
At first I wasn’t sure, was it too bold a stripe? Was it flattering? Did it make me look taller, or wider?
I’ve worn it a couple of times now, had a few compliments and my confidence is growing. Next up, gingham perhaps!
The warnings have been coming for years and yet everyone seems suddenly surprised that Europe is experiencing the hottest summer on record and London’s no exception.
It’s very hot. London isn’t built for hot weather. Buildings are intended to retain the heat in the winter, the tube is lovely and cosy in January but a tunnel of sweat in the summer and the infrastructure can’t cope.
Roads are melting, trees are shedding their leaves, trains are cancelled and no one can talk about anything except the heatwave.
It’s not Australia-hot (yet) but without a fan or air conditioning, sleep is disturbed and moods are tense.
Hoping for a slight cool down next week, this is far from over.
Agnes returned to the original French vet for her stamp back into the UK and while she was there, he did a very thorough ultrasound to check her insides for any unusual lumps or bumps.
Dr Vincent had spotted the large growth on her adrenal gland last year and so quaking with fear, it was back to the vet for Agnes. Little did she know this was the man who had extended her life.
Despite her complete lack of awareness and gratitude, Agnes was given a clean bill of health, nothing to see here and she gets to return to the UK (poor thing) where the loss of her garden will soon become apparent!
all about gem 