Damn good lookin' cow

So Sparky and I went for a mountain bike ride this afternoon. He found this great trail (great = not very steep).

It was a route on a plateau in the mountains above Nice. You pretty much rode around the rim of the plateau overlooking the surrounding mountains and orange topped villages below. to get to the rim, you rode through a few trees changing colors for the autumn. Really pretty.

On the way back we rode past a couple of cows in a fenced in area. Two lovely ladies. Both milk chocolate brown, clean (not covered in poop and mud like most we've seen), big shinny bells hanging on huge leather collars around their necks. They were curious about us (because we stopped to look) so they came over to where we were. One even licked Sparky's hand (then licked inside her own nose - long tongue)...but I gotta admit, the nose licker was just a really pretty cow. There's something I never thought I'd be saying...but she looked like something you'd see on a grocery store container of whatever they decide to put a cow's picture on.

Egotistic French

The French are never wrong. Period. End of story. No matter what they are talking about.
They're ego's cannot handle the words, I'm sorry.
Oh sure, they'll "Pardon" the hell out of you as they bump you, step on you, hit you with whatever they're carrying - but I'm sorry will never make it past their lips. If someone here says I'm sorry they're obviously a foreigner who has learned the language.

Time to reflect back on my previous post from September "Relaxation Technique"

French Dog Kennel

Actual conversation I had today with a French dog kennel owner today...

Hi, I'm (insert name here), my dogs were here last week. When I picked them up yesterday I forgot their medicine.

Oh yes, here you are (picture me being handed one empty bottle of medicine)

Um, ok, what happened to the contents of this bottle and where is the other bottle?

Other bottle? Oh, um, yeah, here it is (picture me being handed a second empty bottle).

I don't understand - when I dropped my dogs off, 10 days ago, these bottles were full - there was a years supply of medicine in each bottle. What happened to their medicine? PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN"T GIVE THEM A YEARS SUPPLY OF MEDICINE IN 10 DAYS!!?? (picture me trying to control my breathing)

Oh, well, this one we didn't put the lid on tight enough and spilt it all over the floor (background- the medication in this bottle is in powder form).

And what about the other bottle of medicine?

Oh, well, there was another dog in here last week that took the same medicine - so instead of opening both bottles, we just gave them both medicine from one bottle - yours.

WHAT!!??

Oh, and that dog took 4 of those pills a day and yours only took 1. So you see now why there were non left.

WHAT!!??

(Picture a blank stare in return for above question)

So that dog got my dog's medicine, because it is the same. And that owner walked away with a full bottle of medicine and I have lost a years supply of medicine?

Yes. (followed by the famous French blank stare and "what?" facial expression)

But I wrote my dogs name in big black letters across her bottle of medicine.

Yes. (followed by the famous French blank stare and "what?" facial expression)

Picture me trying desperately to control my breathing.

Now, when dealing with the French most books/people will tell you that the way to get anything done with them is to be polite and persistent. After a few more runs of this conversation, which included 4 "It's not my problem" responses from him I realized I was seriously scanning his desk for items to beat him with. I decided I was never getting anything from him, and definitely not returning to his establishment and decided to make sure he understood (oh, and anyone within 50 feet) how upset I was with this situation.

The logic behind his responses/actions is so unbelievable that I just can't even hardly comprehend that someone actually thinks it's OK - and not a single apology in any means of the terms just a clear "here's what happened" and everything else is "pas ma probleme" (not my problem).

Wales

Holy cow this is a beautiful country!
We drove from the Snowdonia mountains in the NorthWest to South of the Black Mountains in the SouthEast. Sure, it rained most of the time, but even so, it was beautiful country.

Apparently the Queen, or someone in the royal party was staying close to one of the towns we stopped in - helicopters and fighter jets were looping around the area all day. One gentle man, who noticed me looking at them, said something about this happens when the Queen or Prince of Wales were nearby. I couldn't get what all he said, and was a little embarrassed to tell him I couldn't understand but every 3rd word.

Wow, what an accent when they speak English. I'm sure they think the same of me - when I went in to a store and talked to someone I couldn't even believe how much of a hick I sounded like - my Texas accent was so thick you needed boots.

We stayed in a little hotel in the center of one town - conveniently close to a beautiful church tower - that happened to ring very loudly every two minutes during the 7PM hour. Every 2 minutes. We asked why (and desperately hoped it wouldn't continue into the 8PM hour) and were told that the church choir was singing that night, and every time the choir sang the church bell rang throughout the performance. Why, I asked, was the choir that bad?

Wow I feel stupid

First, I got caught in the revolving door with my two bags...yes, Sparky had to pry one out so that I could continue.

I caught the wrong train...which now answers the question "why does this blue train line split here - how do you know you're on the right train?" What, I grew up in Texas, we drive cars everywhere and are just now learning the definition of "public transportation."

The search for a gym. Our hotel had (what they called) a workout room...one treadmill, a rowing machine, and a barbell set all squeezed into the space of a 5x5 room. So I try anther place, no day passes available without a membership...took me 10 minutes to get away from the membership sales person - what part of "we're only in the area for 3 days" is really that hard to understand - no I don't want a month membership. Nice try. Then I go to another hotel close to ours with what looks like a nice work out center. From what I'm told it's separate from the hotel, looks big, when they describe the space it sounds big. So off I go, bragging to Sparky that I found us a great (big) workout center, just down from the hotel. So 6:15 the next morning we show up - this one is a 10x10 room with basically the same equipment. Sparky laughs and vows to never trust a word I say again.

Ahh, the fan. Our hotel room was a bit warm, ac's already on, so we called down for a fan. Delivered, looks like one of those mini desk heaters that you have in your office - controls at the top, fan on one side...we set it up and hope for the best. Hot. Next night, around midnight, we call and request another fan - we're Americans and hot. The guy brings one up, I hear Sparky at the door "this is the same as we already have and you can hardly feel it" To which the guy replies, "this, really, these are really powerful and work really well." So Sparky gives, "then can you check the one we have, because it's not working right." In comes the guy - looks at the fan we have - flips it on it's side - and I, across the room, immediately start feeling air flow. Once everyone stopped laughing, he graciously left the two idiot Americans with their fan.

The Luggage Game

But first, how to make everyone at the luggage carousel think you're an idiot...
We get to the carousel, belt is running but there's only a few pieces of luggage left from the last flight circling around. Everyone from the flight is standing there waiting. I'm right by the belt, Sparky is a few feet behind me (behind the 2nd row of crowded people) waiting with the luggage cart. Minutes go by...left over luggage circles several times now...I get bored. So everytime the leftover luggage comes by I lean in, take a look at it, then turn to Sparky and mouth while shaking my head - it's not ours. Fun for me...makes Sparky laugh...

10 minutes later our flight's luggage starts to come out. Has the very first piece of luggage to come out ever been yours? You know everyone is standing there impatiently waiting and every one of them hopes that the first piece to come out will be one will be theirs. When that first piece of luggage rolls out - you know the person smiles inside to themselves saying "YES, I won the luggage game this time!!"

Bounce Landing

Off to jolly ole England...

So it's a little cloudy (and slightly rainy sometimes) this time of year in London. You know how planes hit turbulance going through clouds? Well we had an interesting trip...hit the cloudy turbulance on the descent - bouncy, bouncy, bouncy (though Sparky didn't think of it as that - as the claw marks in his arm rests would indicate). Then just when you think it's over and you're subconsicously bracing yourself for that hard stop when the plane hits the runway. Our pilot decided to have a little fun (?) because we hit down, bounced hard up, and then hit down even harder. I can't believe we didn't blow a tire on that second hit (mental note, buy stock in those airplane tire companies). It was a hard enough hit that made you bounce at least a good 1/4 inch off your seat. Come to a roll, quick trip to the stopping place, disembark. It was all I could do to not walk by those pilots on the way out, as they're saying "Thank you, fly again with ****Air" and just go "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT"

French Teacher...French Groomer

French Teacher -
What's with this lady - does she HATE wearing bras? 4th class, not once a bra...

French Groomer -
Today I had to take one of my dogs to be washed and brushed (aka groomed) he was starting to look like a reggae dog. This lady works by herself in this cute little grooming shop in my town. As soon as anyone walks in the door her long haired chihuahua starts barking and running around. So she constantly is yelling for her dog to shut up. 4 times I've gone in there, each time the same routine...walk in, dog runs in circles and barks, she talks to him and tells him to stop - I have to try to tell her what needs to be done between her telling her dog to stop barking...it's just too funny to watch.

The gym

The French here don't seem to have many workout centers...and if they do, they don't open until around 8:30. Coming from Dallas and being totally spoiled by 24 Hour Fitness this was a little hard to get used to - we work out in the morning - generally I was at the workout center by 6:30AM. We found a place that opens at 7 - and that's the only place...

Not so bad, but then you have to live with what you get...old "masculation" equipment (it smells it's so old.) And there are a few people there, the ones that are always there, who don't change their cloths daily - I've now been going to this center for 1 year and never seen this one guy in another pair of pants...the other always wears the same shorts and t-shirt.

The people are a little entertaining - none of them wear headphones - they just peddle away in silence - they just recently installed the tvs.
This one lady wears every piece of jewelry she owns but no bra.
Then there's the guy on the treadmill who (ok, he actually wears headphones) but he randomly punches and reaches his arms out like he can't hold in the excitement anymore.
Of course the guys who don't change cloths.
The monster personal trainer - I've never seen anyone with that obtrusively large of an upper body - he's as wide as I am tall (ok, almost, 1/2 my size maybe.)
Oh, and the guy who manages the place that walks around singing "I'm every woman" while he works out.

What kind of sense does that make...

Examples of French logic that I just don't get...

1. Weedeater - there are 4 large Home Depot type stores around me. All of them sell the same Black n Decker weedeater - several models actually. But none of them sell the replacement spool of that wire stuff. Something I wish I had figured out prior to purchasing the weedeater.

2. Bike Rack - a very popular French Oshman's Sporting Goods type store sells a bike rack for your car - that doesn't actually fit bike tires. It's one of the racks that sits off the back trailer hitch and you set the tires in the little slots then bungy cord it down securly - doesn't fit bike tires. And yes, if you're wondering, it is really a bike rack. No, the bike tires sold here are not different sizes than the ones sold in the states.

NOTE - if you're reading the above 2 and wondering why we just don't return the items to the store it's because we can't. French are incredibly stubborn....about returning items, especially after the original packaging has been opened.

3. TV Tax - get this...if you have a TV in your home you have to pay a 116Euro TV tax. EVEN if the tv isn't plugged in and working. I kid you not. Wouldn't it make sense that if you are subscribing to a tv service, THEN you would have to pay the tax? Seems like that would make sense to me...proof you're actually using the tv. They just send bills out assuming you have a tv, what home doesn't they think, and if you don't pay the bill they either call or send someone to inquire - and inspect your home. No joking. Sounds like too much doesn't it - granted, they probably can't get to everyone to inspect their home, but they have actually been known to do it.

OK that does it!

I live on a fairly large piece of property here...tree covered...what has the potential of being a beautiful garden...lovely place Sparky picked out.

In that type of environment you'll undoubtedly have some little creatures living with you. I don't mind the spiders in the bathroom - they're not the creepy looking ones. They look kinda like a smaller version of a daddy long legs. They take care of the moths and other random flying stuff. I didn't even mind when the boy spider in the corner mated with the girly spider under the sink and produced 20 or so little ones. They don't attack us, they stay in their corner and mind their own business...

occasionally I see a fuzzy little centipede looking thing scurry across the top of the window. He runs as soon as he sees me so I don't bother him too much.

I've affectionately named the geko Guido and scolded Sparky when he tried to catch Guido and let the dogs play with him.

See, I don't mind the creatures, who am I to kill them when they're not bothering me...

That theory might have been blown to smithereens (as my dad would say) this morning when I looked down on the kitchen floor and saw the scorpion. I have this intense hatred and complete fear of scorpions - has much to do with waking up as a girl in San Antonio and finding one on the bed with me...crawling on the walls in the hallway. They're just freaky looking creatures.

Now, I tried to remain calm...after all it was just the size of a nickel...no big deal right...breathe, it will be ok.

But if it's that small does that mean it's a baby and momma is around somewhere?? Merde!!