bats

The penchant for teenage vamp shows, all biting sex and dripping blood make tales of vamire bats seem positively tame these days. A word not usually associated with bats, tame. A "schoall of fish" and a "Tame of bats..." Put "tame" in front of any horrible creature you'd never normally want to touch, like a gerbil, we instantly feel compelled to protect them because they are cute little furry creatures. Children create a similar reaction. It's all a big con. My cynical view of modern societies' hierarchical values runs thus, childrens rights' supersede adults' rights which fall victim to animal rights. Adult humans are at the bottom of the food chain and unlike bats, we are neither feted or protected as an endangered species. Being on the "warped but savable in the future if the budget allows" rung of the species ladder means that self protection is paramount to my survival, so, when a frantic flying mouse is flapping round my head at 3am I'm afraid number one comes before numbers 45 to 50! We have shared many nocturnal adventures, my bats and I, commando crawling across the floor, encased in protective duvet armour and pillow helmet allows them to perfect their miniture red arrow display, kamikaze style. Having a minute brain seems unimportant when you can reach 20 miles an hour in an enclosed space while avoiding moving targets. Emergency braking is a skill honed in a short time by relentless vertical speed diving culminating in a sudden stop with just with a split second to spare before the desired target is either a. frightened to death or b.paralized by fear long enough for the intrepid bomber to regroup and scratch another notch on your limewashed A frame. Large ears actually deflect screams. This is a little known fact. Calling for help is futile. Their use of echo location as a means to test the vibe on a night out will work really well in your bedroom, especially if you have lots of wooden furniture. The reverberating sound is bat foreplay and the vibrations will start an orgy, but don't worry, lady bats, although voracious, have high morals and low expectations. The evolution of a facinating design feature allows them to store sperm until the warmer weather when they have an elective pregnancy on a date of their choice, followed by a comfortable and speedy delivery in their chosen equivalent on the Portland hospital. Wild arm flapping is also a useless deterrent as this is seen as a sign of cameraderie and high on your fear, will result in a bat fest to rival Glastonbury. Regardless of their enchanting display of petit press ups on my bedroom window as they settle to snooze the day away, I am not fooled! I am happy to co exist, if they exist outside. In Europe Bats do not feast on human blood or carry disease, apparently. On the plus side, they do eat up to 3000 insects each a night but despite their low carb diet and frenetic exercise regime they are, in many parts of the world, in decline. Quite a surprise given the current trend for this very regime among humans. Should we worry? is the low carb diet a government conspiracy in population control? I have my own theory however. Unchecked by years of census control, the missing bats of the world, simply, live in my house. I realise this may not be a popular theory among conservationists but given their ineffective tips on diversion and survival tactics, who sounds the most sane here? After all they have managed to avoid ownership of the term "batty" for years, when was the last time you thought "oh yes that person seems a bit like a bat expert to me." These Bat Experts (kind but deluded people who like bats)suggest several solutions and useful tips to encourage them to leave. Open the windows and doors, seems logical but impractical if you live in the uk where your fate will be rapid hypothermia. If you live in France you will be invaded by enough mosquitos to feed you hungry bats for a week. Once the doors and windows are open, and this is my absolutely favourite suggestion, they advise you to "Go Back To Bed". You now have either 30000 insects recreating the battle of Britain in stereo, or 20000 chilled ready meals with your best duvet as a tablecloth. The remaining intrepid fliers will nail the remaining sluggish mosquitoes as they bounce off the walls. Notoriously sociable, bats love a good all nighter with free food thrown in. A generous host can create a nice buoyant atmosphere by leaping about, maybe get a few friends in. However, like the drunk who won't leave at the end of the night, bats will persevere, despite attempts to get rid of them, till the last dance is danced and the final morsel is gone. Continual sleep deprivation will eventually win and you will actually consider letting the bats have the bedroom in lieu of a belfry. Over time you will learn to accept these harmless little creatures as part of your family, There may be more of them than your real children but their achievements, however small will impress you and unlike your children, they will sleep 12 hours a day and eat only insects. Toilet training, will, however, be an ongoing issue.

on surviving the scottish winter

From autumn till December many scottish women will be devoting themselves singularly to the pursuit of adding a layer of protective fat to insulate them from the arctic winds and permafrost. Unlike the famous "yo yo" diet plan, this is rather a more sophisticated celtic survival technique which has contributed to the world recognition of the quest for culinary supremacy by the Scottish people. It is vital to begin this process in good time for winter. Consuming copious amounts of home made soup packed full of pulses and lentils is essential despite what your partner may say. Huge bowls of steaming porridge will soon buffer you from the wind produced by the Atlantic gales and the lentils. You will benefit from the added bonus of being your own pre inflated life jacket should the "wind" carry you out to sea. Popular winter protection schemes also include stockpiling non perishable foods such as lion bars and malteasers. These are high in essential nutrients and it is possible to store more per square foot than, for example, potatoes and being an instant ready meal is an added bonus as expelling extra energy through unnecessary food preparation could deplete your added protective layer fairly rapidly, thus endangering your winter survival.

The Effects of Alcohol on Endangered Species

All the best parties entail a certain amount of loss, either emotionally or financially. This is expected and tolerated as a minor fee for one of the pleasures of life. I host a lot of them and feel qualified to say this. Parties in this house are relished by all of us, however, it will soon cost me more to throw an all nighter for the creatures who live in my garden rather than the ones who live free gratis in my house, ridiculous as that may seem. I have 4 adult children at home and 400 adult snails in my garden. Both come with numerous friends and hangers on. The similarities between the two are boundless, both nocturnal, they venture out only at night under cover of darkness leaving trails of sticky surface rotting evidence, but only after after devouring everything in their wake. I do emphasise the "everything" part. Those of you with teenagers and snails will be nodding furiously at this point, muttering through gritted teeth. While I don't actively encourage my kids to get drunk, I don't have the same moral compass when dealing with my snails. Beer has the same effect on both, imbibing them with false bravado and a bit of a death wish in a face off, enabling them to "speed eat" at a ferocious pace. Infused with super strength enabling them to upend an object 200 times their body weight with no apparent damage to themselves, they happily create the maximum amount of mayhem, then it's straight back into those shells! Although neither of them are discerning drinkers, preferring cheap Lidl beer, they share a delight in eating only the most expensive gourmet fare available, carnations rejected with a sniff in favour of delicious purple basil, budget price ham ignored while whole packets of imported parma ham are squeezed between 2 slices of roast beef between, well another two slices of roast beef, a few cherry tomatoes and half a tin of foie gras. I realise the snail-teenager idea may be a revolutionary concept to some of you, but, as with all good revolutions, it's time to declare war. Neither Snails or Teenagers are currently listed as an endangered species.

The calorific value of a good fright

I am very tired today as I have started my new exercise regime. How many calories are burned off by jumping 10 ft in the air at 3am while shrieking? If you want to try this I suggest you contact Pierre Mondary who will be happy to do a home visit for a cup of tea and sympathy.
My regime started unexpectedly at 3am this morning when Hamish laboriously inched his ear off the floor and woofed "think someone just came in and I can't be bothered to move!" As top dog at chez Scobie, I thought I should see if we were being burgled..... the apparition which met me in the hallway was worthy of the Tate modern.. Still life With Wheel....
After we'd both stopped screaming, it transpired that his bike had been chained, by the wheel to a pole outside a friends house, but someone had simply removed the wheel and nicked the bike! Poor Pierre had no way to get home so decided to pay us a visit instead as he'd heard I wanted to loose a few pounds. My gratitude surprised him today when he came round to apologise. If he was a 46 year old woman he'd understand the value of a good fright!

TEENAGE TRAVEL ARRANGEMENTS

Teenage travel arrangements should be approached with caution, advice should be dispensed from behind a bulletproof screen and your escape route planned for no later than 10 minutes after the haggling begins, but before teenage snorts of derision chokes any good sense you thought you possessed. I imagine most parents want their offspring to experience the world, enjoy the cultural diversities other countries can offer and hopefully mature through the freedom of travel. Do you honestly believe this is what actually happens? My own recent experience is a still frequently regurgitated, raw reminder of the reality which frequently occludes the parents of intrepid virgin (in the loosest sense of the word)travellers. Sticking to the original plan becomes the suffocating "ties that bind" and with mobile phones turned off, they and are enthusiastically experiencing everything they agreed not to in their eagerness to escape. Without keeping to any of the fervently agreed on conditions which precluded their departure, their travel plans will have changed beyond recognition, whole continents passed by in a delirious haze of freedom, with companions they have known for no more than the regulation 48 hours which makes you BFF's. Last autumn my son decided he absolutely had to see his sister, who after an absence of 2 months, was so etched in his heart he simply couldn’t bare life without her for another moment. In reality, he saw her new found freedom as irresistible, her student flat as a free place to crash after a wild night out and her endless source of female friends as challenge to his masculinity. The ensemble was a tantillizing, ready made harem. This 19 year olds idyllic holiday abroad was a disaster waiting to happen. Children brought up in a foreign country really adopt their resident countries attitudes and ideas, therefore while we think our kids are going home for a holiday they are, in fact being released into uncharted territory as a loudly ticking bomb. The differences between Scottish and French children are far greater than I imagined and I have to take responsibility for not knowing this and ultimately sending my children out unprepared and ill equipped for life in the UK. Here in rural France they are not exposed to mass commercialism of the UK, sure we have the same reality obsessed television that exists around the planet but we don’t actually have a tv in our home so my children's exposure to this has been limited to reality tv overdosing at friends houses and as parents already know, reality is absorbed in moderation and translated loosely by teenagers. On the up side, French children are extremely polite and mindful of their manners in your presence. They are socially adept and well used to interacting with people of all ages and are happy to spend time talking with parents and grand parents. The family is very important and although French media reports the fabric of French society is breaking down, where we live strong family values are still very much in evidence and streets ahead of what seems to exist in the UK. However, don’t be misled by what the rose tinted “living the dream in France" faction would lead you to believe. French kids drink and smoke hash. Aquitaine has the highest incidence of marijuana smoking in France and it shows. Apathy among teenage boys is rife, exacerbated by a general lack of ambition in French children due, in part, to an incredible class structure which pervades all aspects of French life. Ordinary French children appear to expect to achieve as much as or little than their parents have and will be content to live near their parents for ever. This may seem like a sweeping generalisation, but it is my experience of Rural France. As a direct result of being spoon fed and discouraged from any form of free thinking at school young French adults do not travel as frequently as their European counterparts and are therefore much more insular and innocent. They seem to me, incredibly naive, unquestioningly trusting of the authority and knowledge of their elders and generally clueless about anywhere out with their region. While this innocence is, in many ways a charming quality, their relentless conditioning by parents and teachers mean they are predisposed to completely disbelieve anything a non French person tells them. The friends my children have made in our 9 years in France have been without exception, really nice kids, extremely well mannered, friendly and tenacious in their drive to understand my fledgling French. The same teenagers who have eaten dinner at my table for years, happily tried food alien to them and absorbed the Scottish culture of our home without question will argue for hours with me over situations inconceivable to them in their French life. It's "impossible" that you can open a bank account in 1 hour in the UK. Unbelievable that you must book the megabus well in advance to secure a really cheap seat and despite your reasoning they will leave booking their ticket to the very last minute. Using all the charm of a newly born fawn to enlist your help 3 hours before their flight, they will be be utterly incredulous that the price has gone through the roof and will complain loudly with much huffing, sighing and flailing of arms before kissing you with genuine affection and spending 10 minutes making sure they have not missed one of the numerous phrases used to bid you farewell! Their flight will then be delayed by some inconsiderate Icelandic emissions and they will spend the next 3 days enjoying the sights of Bordeaux while punctuating the delay with frequent trips, by bus, to and from the airport for updates rather than simply checking the website. Depending on your outlook on life this last sentence will have made you either sigh with frustration or purr contentedly. I'm purring.

pretentious poems

Wash Day Rules
Strung in defiant nonchalance
a vengeful pastel banner of fluttering, enduring wit
her knickers proudly flew all week,
a symbol of her revolution
displaced by age, yet, not so meek
her final pegged out resolution
would certify for all to see
that she could "hang out" as she pleased.
Poor sweeping, scrubbing, ageing crones
who gleamed and buffed and puffed and groaned
and kept their lines in good repair
to show how much they loved and cared
their eagerness to primp and please
no longer done with so much ease
their antiquated attitudes and guiless,
dripping servitude
which lacks the merest recompense
so strengthened her resolve.
She ventured out, with book and chair
found a place and settled there.
Refusing to conform or fit
she much prefered to read and sit.

pretentious poems

Sever
I would like to sever your outstretched hand which professing love
strangles
my soul
with its relentless lust
for control.
Unable to breath
in the cage of your arms
I
struggle to reach
You

pretentious poems

Bitter Fruit
Are my feelings there only
as a tool for your derision.
Constant ridicule wears thin
the soul laid bare before your sacrificial altar.
Sour times, like bitter fruit
linger.

pretentious poems

Control Freak
How close to the surface
your veins
he said
sated
he opened them
slowly.
How close to the surface
your scars
he said
fingers trailing
raw reminders
on wounded skin.
How close to the surface
your tears
he said
and silently gathered them for his own.

about me...no photos please

Completely mad with overpowering domination tendancies. Extremely determined to get my own way as much as possible.
Quick witted for my age and ruthlessly sarcastic.
Do not not suffer fools or people with minor faults such as plate scraping, small children or opinions.
Like to think I'm artistic, creative and an intellectual. Often percieved as a pretentious, judgemental snob
(mainly by my sisters , but anyone can join in)
Aspire to be selfless and kind with some other good points.
I have a truly amazing husband who takes all the credit for the person I am today.......
I write poetry no one ever gets to read and collect paints I never use.
I love my garden but only for short periods. Willing weeds to die does not work.
I am apparently a good cook, a good writer and have some artistic talent.
I have no confidence that any of this is true
I despise racists, homophobics and sexist men. I am happy to collude with sexist women for future female world domination.
Double standards have never been an issue for me.
I Will stand up and fight against the inequality and supression of women in society and always expect doors to be opened for me.
I will defend friends to the end of the earth and do anything they ask me to.
I never share chocolate.

living with teenagers

Living with teenagers in the war zone.
Intellectual Strategies v Killing them
Outwitting them is exhausting but legal, Killing them is satisfying but illegal (slight government oversite )
If early onset deafness from the continual boom boom boom of crap rap does not completely dull your battle fatigued mind,
you are not one of the lucky ones, because believe me,
it's better to go early.
Why suffer, get in the room with them, absorb the music
tune out the drivvel they will try and wear you down with.
It's all mental torture at the end of the day.
Rap...Proven torture tactic used by the FBI and teenagers.

The effects of adrenalin on a Thursday

You may think I went to great lengths to be alone with 4 firemen in their engine but I think that would be an unjust accusation. I certainly didn't expect 2 innocent bananas to pay off quite so well or as dramatically, but then we are talking about me, so what was I thinking! I suffer from allergic reactions to food. Not a lifelong condition, but a recent and life changing one. My first experiment with an anapen was not entirely what I expected and I hope never to use it again. Adrenaline makes you completely nuts, however, the rapidity of the attack left me no option. The Anapen, designed for easy self administration was a weapon in my shaking hands as I was, by then, so uncoordinated I could have taken down 3 dogs and a passerby in the street in an attempt to hit my leg. My husband did not need any coercion to administer the lifesaving adrenalin and enthusiastically took the "stab the pen in the leg" assignment, siezing the opportunity with a worrying glint . Fear numbs pain but not panic and trying to stab a fleeing object is not easy, apparently. My recovery expectations were unrealistically high,a life pattern and within 5 minutes I was a physical and emotional wreck. Adrenaline makes you panic/hysterical/nonsensical and unable to make a decision about left or right foot first. My entertainment rating was high as I insisted, first on an ambulance (panic state) then on being driven to the hospital,(hysteria) despite my daughter having called the paramedics. The ambulance was duly cancelled and they manouvered me into the car, left foot over right in a feat worthy of the paralympics. I made it as far as the first roundabout with teeth bared and my face pressed to the window manically looking for an escape hole. (hysterical state) It was decided by the rational person in the car that returning home to recall the suitably trained, stamina posessing paramedics was the sensible option. Within 5 minutes the Firebrigade screeched to the door en masse with stretchers and ressus gear. Mortified but barely lucid, my incoherently entertaining performance was treated with the tollerance of an adoring grandparent. This was befitting their average age, there was not one greek, or French god among them. The accompanying GP, not my usual call out champion, however, did not rate the performance and dismissed me as an overdramatic foreigner as, by then the adrenaline had physically controlled some of the anaphylactic symptoms and he assumed I was just enjoying the attention of Riberac's finest. Perhaps driven by the mind numbing boredom of fench rural life he sees a lot of women faking anaphylactic shock and perhaps my expectation of firemen is, again unrealistically, driven by the, I assumed, realistically filmed hollywood movie "Backdraught". However once his medical experience overtook his derision and he accepted that this was a multi repeat situation and I had in fact used the anapen, we were thrown in the fire engine and nee nawed to hospital at top speed. My husband and son drove behind and while freaked out by the lights they did enjoy the chase! Fortunately Perigueux hospital staff are quite used to me and were excellent, told me to stop talking, panicking and being hysterical, pumped me full of more drugs and left me to rant in solitude once I ceased to amuse them. Desperate to please, I reacted badly to the adrenaline which pushed my heart rate into orbit making them panic and abandon their coffee break. Fulled by cafe noir they were quick to administer more drugs which controlled my spiraling heartbeat but not my grasp on reality. I gamely soldiered on with the gamut of adrenaline side effects including hyperventillation and an all consuming skin burning sensation, a horrible Hiroshima effect but without the actual peeling. It all makes for an eventful thursday night and not willing to let the side down, I set the cardiograph monitor off enough to keep them on their toes all night and the bastards retaliated by keeping me there till 2.30pm the next day when I was unceremoniously thrown out on the arrival a more deserving 4 car pile up.
Generally euphoric on release and pumped with enough drugs to satisfy a heroin addict I usually feel great for weeks, but I suspect in an attempt to sedate me, they mixed some prozac in there as my usual post hospital housework purge eluded me. My naturally pale scottish skin benefits from a week long post attack steroid boost, giving it an almost cartoon jollyness I find quite attractive and local gossip of my "red lighted to hospital after an alcoholic binge" variety never fails to amuse me.

paypal and other things to argue about

Today I managed to block my daughters bank account. This was not an insignificant achievement, concentration and determination won the day and I can proudly say, it didn't take long. I can't take all the credit, if my husband hadn't dared me I wouldn't have tried to open a paypal account for her. I think of those little "I don't think you should" words as a dare, don't you? They are tempting and infuriating at the same time. A parallel tease, irresistible.
Obviously, If she hadn't blown all her money I wouldn't have worried about her, fallen into the neurotic mother catagory and had to open the pay pal account to transfer her some money. If we didn't live 2000 miles away I wouldn't need to transfer the money, if I hadn't had kids..... if I hadn't had sex.........stop. As a woman I have this issue with being told what to do. I simply can't bare a man to say those words "I don't think you....can, should, could" It just unleashes the monster in me and quite often that monster is it's own worst enemy. Hopefully, my daughter's loose grasp on financial reality will allow me to slightly alter the situation in my favout so I come out looking like a caring parent rather than an internet hacker. the moral of the story is...never dare your wife to........

I will be 46 in 7 days time.

There is no escaping teenagers. My peaceful respite from the dramas of parenthood was interrupted by my 17 year old daughters call mid afternoon with a request to "to ring me back immediately". What now, the rent has bounced, she has no food, her flat mate still hates her brother and her hair straighteners don't work. All reasonable scenarios. Of course I was worried, her transition from rural French life to a student experience in the big city has not been without it's problems, for all of us. We are on a small income after years of apparently having a good life although I only remember the "life" part of it. Ill health has brought some serious changes to our family and the way we live and as a consequence we have had to make some sacrifices to send her to college. Of course throwing a naive girl into the materialistic cess pit of uk life was a concern, but we were happy to be "one down and 3 to go" so we hardened our hearts... Consumerism always had the potential to make more of a mark on this particular teenager than the others and she has shown already that it is indeed possible to enjoy ones self, without guilt, on your parents money and has taken to the challenge with incredible stamina. Despite our resolve to let her get on with her own life and as a good mum, I called her back immediately, throwing to the wind at the cost of a call from france to a uk mobile. Projects were becoming too much, a drop in her hours at work posed a problem for all of us financially and homesickness was resurfacing after her brothers visit ended disastrously. This had all contributed to an emotional week so I picked up the phone and dialled, held my breath and prepared for the "please can I come home hysterical sobbing speech" instead ....... "what's the difference between haddock and cod because I'm in the supermarket and I don't know which one I like. "
welcome to my life.