One of those bits and pieces times

It's one of those bits and pieces times. I feel a little disappointed that I can't write a post about anything other than the desultory doings of a DIYer. The thing is, the weather. It's been perfect for working outside, but as you all know, Vereeniging had her major makeover in June and since then it's been a matter of painting when the heat has permitted (barring month-long forays into France, of course). I'm blessed that I have a willing helper whose fondness for power tools is approaching those of her sister's (who would have imagined that?) and my own, so while the one Superdaughter is a tower (or power) of strength in France, the other Superdaughter helps me immeasurably on Vereeniging. I sometimes wonder what I did right to have two girls who prefer fixing stuff to shopping and makeup, but believe me, I count myself very blessed.

So the way things have gone is that most days have been taken up with various and sundry jobs on board.

Having spent a ludicrous amount of time wrestling the 'new' tarpaulin I've had since 2021 onto the hatches – (it's taken four years to replace the old one because I knew it would take said ludicrous amount of time) – we had to make a cut to allow the entrance hatch to be opened easily and without further wrestling. I confess I never got around to making such a cut with the old tarpaulin because of my fear of leaks (a fear founded on previous experience), but it was a factor that used to drive everyone but me mad. However, this time I think (for that, read pray) we've got it right. I won't bore you with the details, but I'm pretty pleased with the end result. Suffice to say, we have things nicely screwed down and the hatch opens like a dream!

Wielding the tool I prefer

As does my able assistant

Another job worth mentioning is the restoration of our skylights on the Hennie H. I think I mentioned them in my last post. They were in a pretty sorry state, but I've now scraped, sanded, stained and varnished them both, as well as replacing the protective moulding on the top of one of them and re-kitting the perspex windows. They're very old, so perfection is not the aim, but they look a lot better and the rot of ages has been arrested, at least.

But just in case you're now all DIY'd out, here's a photo that makes being where we are all worthwhile. There are those who ask me if I miss France when I return here. There are, of course, some aspects of our French village that I think of wistfully, but when I have the view below and the sights from Vereeniging that I see almost every day, I don't hanker for long. Life on the water still has a stronger hold on me than anything else and our sea canal here on the Belgian border has as much life and visual splendour as anything I could wish for.

Have a great weel allemaal, and I'll bring you some more news and views from the Flatlands soon.

August without rest

Just recently when we were out walking the dogs, I told my daughter I honestly couldn’t remember what I’d been doing this past month since I came back from France. 

“Write a ‘things I’ve done today’ each evening,” she suggested. “Don’t write your to-do list every morning. Write your ‘what I’ve done’ list instead.”

I think she’s right, but I haven’t started it yet, so I still haven’t got to grips with it all. All I can recall is that I’ve been busy working on audio versions of my Africa memoirs. I’ve managed to publish the first two now, which is very rewarding. I’ve been using Amazon’s beta program with a virtual voice over. It has limitations and pronunciation errors, but overall, it’s not bad at all. Since I could never afford to hire a voice artist and don’t have the skills (or technical equipment) to do it myself, it’s a fair compromise to be able to offer the books to people with vision problems. On the writing front, I’m working on a collection of stories that were originally published as articles in a sailing magazine for women, Sistership. I’m enjoying editing and adding to them for an anthology I’m putting together.

Oh yes, I’ve also succeeded in scraping, sanding and painting the Hennie H’s roof, and Koos has repaired the broken entrance hatch. Our poor little boat has suffered badly in the heat this summer and the flaking paint was getting beyond bearable. Now, I’m busy with the two roof windows, koekhoeks in Dutch. I’ve replaced them with the temporary windows I made a few years back and brought the real ones back to the crumbly cottage to work on. Restoring all things wood is something I love, so that’s no hardship.

There have been other mini projects as well, but this blog isn’t meant to be my ‘what I’ve done list’, so I think I’ve ticked off all the important things. 

What’s marked the month, though, has been the fine, dry weather. From a boating perspective, it’s been much too dry. Canals have been closing all over France and England. From a farming perspective, it’s been even worse, but for once, the conditions have been pretty good for working outside. Koos did a sterling job of painting the fence at the front of the crumbly cottage Mk 2, and I’ve managed with my daughter’s help to do more paintwork repair on both Vereeniging and Hennie H than in several previous years combined, despite the restrictions of the heat.

So yes, although it hasn’t been a month of great excitement or events, it’s been a busy one. Last weekend, however, we drove north 200 km to celebrate Koos’s sister’s 87th birthday. Given that she looks at least ten years younger, still lives independently and is as bright as a button, she’s an example to us all. It was a lovely day and although it took over six hours of driving, it was worth every minute to spend some time with her.

Have a good weekend, allemaal! Next week, it will be September. I wonder where (and how) that month will go! I won’t jinx it by saying what or when, but we have a plan…

Koos and his two older sisters. The birthday 
Girl is on the right

Still work to do, but she’s looking better!

One of the daily delights: seeing tugs and ships
On the canal

Our other daily delight: Zoe doing cute as only she know how.

Fort Rammekens, the oldest sea fort in Western Europe

I've been back in the Netherlands for nearly two weeks now and I really can't figure out where the time has gone. All I know is that I've been very busy working on the boats and doing some re-decorating in the Crumbly Cottage Mk1. However, it hasn't all been work and no play. The first week I was home I needed to go to Vlissingen to buy some rope to replace the old, stiff lichen-covered line that was keeping my tarpaulin on Vereeniging's hatches. Knowing there were some interesting sea forts along the coast there, I persuaded daughter 1, Jo, to come with me and visit Fort Rammekens, said to be the oldest sea fort in Western Europe.

After a successful visit to the chandlers in Vlissingen, we made our way east to find the fort situated on the coast nearby. I was prepared to be impressed, but I wasn't ready to find it as interesting as it is. Dating back to 1547, Fort Rammekens has had a pretty intense history, the outlines of which you can find in this website, along with information about the natural environs as well. Just make sure to ask Google to translate the site into English. 

In short, though, the fort used to be right on the sea with only a small dyke running through its walls to protect it. The outer footings of its walls were submerged in the waters of the estuary. It was originally built to defend the shipping route to Middelburg, the most important city in Zeeland (and still the provincial capital). However, over time, it was used not only for protecting Middelburg, but also to supply the Dutch East India company (the VOC) and to be part of Napoleon's defences. In addition, it acted as both a prison and a hospital and during WWII, it was part of the Germans' defence wall along the coast. These days, the sea dyke is much larger and further from the fort, while the canal to Middelburg it originally defended has been re-routed, largely rendering the fort redundant. 

That said, it remains an impressive historical monument and I really enjoyed our visit on a beautifully hot sunny day. Luckily, dogs were allowed on site and Jo and I eagerly explored all the cavernous rooms, passages and cellars we could reach. The walls of the fort are six metres thick (yes, that's right, 6m!) and these are also protected as being home to a special species of yellow wallflower.

Walking along the outer walls of the fort

Gun portals in the walls

Another gun portal

Apparently, the brickwork is Napoleonic

How we exited the fort to walk around its preimeter

Looking back

The moat surrounding the fort. In former times,
this would have been the sea.

Yellow wallflowers on the old Napoleonic
brickwork

Lucy pooch

More of the moat

Zoe squinting at the sun

These chains are simply to guide water into
channels below the ground to supply a central
reservoir.

What they used to defend the fort!

After our fascinating visit finished by a welcome cuppa from the small kiosk in the grounds, we took the pups to a nearby beach where, joy of joy, they were allowed to run off the lead. Much fun was had by all, as well as some other pooches. It was lovely to find a beach where the dogs were welcome even in high season... that is, as long as we picked up any... erm... deposits, which we always do anyway.

 Altogether, it was a lovely day out and I hope we can explore a few more of these historical sites before the weather turns cold. If you'd like to see more photos of Fort Rammekens, click on this link, 

For my next post, I'll try and remember what else I've been up to in these last two weeks, so have a good one, allemaal.

Pedalos, hikes and family visits

At the end of my last post, I'd returned to France, where I stayed for another two weeks, most of which has become a blur of activities surrounding the house. But rather than going into detail about our DIY efforts, I thought I'd share some of the more relaxing and enjoyable things we did, these being more interesting to most than how to dispose of rusting steel sheets and general ground clearance. 

The most unexpected delight was going for a spin on a pedalo along the Marne river in Joinville. My daughter, Mo, had been before, so we arranged to meet her there at the Quai des Peceaux (see the post before last) where the pedalos are 'parked'. We were already in Joinville for other reasons, so we arrived a bit early only to be puzzled by the lack of any sign of boats for hire. All I could see was a chalk board outside a restaurant saying "Pedalos ici".

"It all seems a bit vague. Shall I go and ask?" I said to Koos, who vaguely agreed this would be the best plan.

I entered the restaurant and went to the bar. Luckily, the girl serving assured me this was the right place to book, asked how many we would be and told me to come back at 18:15.

"Ici?" I asked, for certainty.

"Oui, ici, here," she said.

It still seemed a bit odd, but I supposed all would be revealed, which indeed it was. When my daughter appeared, she told us the pedalos were kept a little way along the quay behind a hut, which was why we couldn't see them. Sure enough, just after six, a young lass came out of the restaurant and led us round to the small craft. Judging by the looks alone, it's hard to think of them as real boats, but I suppose they are, technically, paddlewheel boats.

Anyway, we were all supplied with life jackets and the three of us, plus the two spaniels, Zoe and Mack, climbed on board and, after some undignified scrabbling around (on my part at least), we found our seats. Mo and I elected to be the pedallers, while Koos took photos and looked after Zoe. She, bless her, curled up between his legs and went to sleep, thus demonstrating her familiarity with all things floating. Mack, on the other hand, wanted to keep an eye on what we were doing, especially my steering. 

We didn't go terribly far, but we were out for 45 minutes and it was most enjoyable; in fact, much more fun than I imagined it would be. The river is really so beautiful and once out of the town, it is very natural. To our huge pleasure, we even saw a kingfisher skimming over the water – or rather, Mo did. With my dodgy eyesight I only saw a flash of blue, but given their rarity, I was thrilled to have caught a glimpse.

The photos below are just a few Koos took after the obligatory group grin pic taken by the girl who helped us. Incidentally, she told us she has a spaniel and it seems that almost everyone we meet in France either has or had American Cockers. Our dogs can do no wrong!

Then, at the weekend, my other daughter, Jo, joined us and we had some terrific walks. The first was to the remains of the old castle at the top of the hill overlooking Joinville. It's a pretty steep climb and one I'd failed to achieve earlier in our stay, but this time the weather was cooler and Zoe and I managed it with encouragement and urging from my girls of the "You can do it, Mum" variety (of course, I had to!). The view was worth every step.

Then the following morning, we took quite a hike through some wonderful woodland, although it transpired we were somewhat off the beaten track, a factor which was the more unfortunate when Jo lost her car key. A search by the girls ensued, but despite their efforts to retrace our steps, the key remained buried, probably deep in the forest. We just hope it won't unlock any anxiety traits among the resident wildlife (sorry). 

However, the loss meant some car shuffling so Jo could get back to the Netherlands for work, but we made a plan involving most of the family in cross border arrangements, and all was well.

My girls and all the dogs

And this was on the beaten track, so you can
imagine what it was like off it!

The last bit of fun we had was a family game of 'boules'. I've never played it before even though it's typically French. Mo had two sets of the heavy steel balls needed and we found a nice piece of flat ground down by the village hall. If you don't know it, the game is something like bowls, but it doesn't have to be played on grass and any old piece of smoothish ground will do. Great fun and lots of good natured ribbing. 

So that was it for my French adventure this summer. I'll fill you in on the rest next time, but for now, have a good weekend allemaal. Keep well, keep cool and have fun!

 

Adventures in Amsterdam and the 'lady with the dog'.

So here I am, back in France again after an enjoyable week home in the Netherlands. Not only did I have fun with my daughter on board Vereeniging, but I also took a trip to Amsterdam to meet up with one of my memoir author friends, Lisa Rose Wright. I have to say this definitely counts as one of this year's highlights because Lisa and I have been online friends for a few years now. We beta read each other's books (beta reading is feedback given by a few sharp-eyed and discerning readers prior to final proofeading) and share a love of rural life as well. I absolutely love Lisa's writing and can recommend her books without reserve. Here's a link to her Amazon page.

Anyway, Lisa and her husband had just completed a cruise down the Rhine from Basel, finishing at Amsterdam from where they were flying back to Galicia (Spain) where they live. It happened to be her husband's birthday, so after meeting them at the station, the three of us set off to find some celebratory coffee and a snack. The only place not overwhelmed with tourists was an entertainment centre, mainly for children, which was surprisingly quiet. Our friendly, obliging waiter admitted he was quite enjoying the tranquillity since most of their usual customers (parties of noisy children) were away on holiday. His good humour was a bonus when S, Lisa's husband, asked if he could have the 'kiddy menu'. It looked, so he claimed, the most enticing of what was on offer. Whether this was true or not, the waiter joined in the spirit of the occasion and presented him with the lunchbox full of goodies, while a colleague brought him a surprise gift: a ball. S was, of course, delighted. Being a gentleman of a certain age comes with equally certain benefits, one of which is the good-humoured indulgence of wait staff.

We spent a lovely few hours chatting about their cruise and the places they'd visited, amongst other subjects of common interest, i.e. books, authors, travel and writing. All too soon it was time for me to catch my train back to Zeeland, from where I headed back to France again two days later.

Meanwhile, Koos had been keeping the flags flying locally by attending the Bastille Day barbecue in our village. He was invited to join when he was passing the gathering on his motor scooter and cajoled into accepting refreshments hot off the grill.

Where was I? they asked. "Ah, she's left me," Koos said to a collective gasp of "Oh, non!" "But she's coming back," he said, and they all laughed. At that point, someone else asked, "Who are you talking about?" and another said, "You know, the lady with the dog!" It seems that Zoe and I are known for our daily walks, but now they even know my name. When Koos called to tell me where he was, there was a delightful crowd cry of 'Bonjour, Valerie' in the background. Isn't that a lovely way to make us feel welcome?

Each day we are here, more and more people stop to chat.  I love it that the old lady opposite is the sister of the former owner of the Crumbly Cottage, Mk 2, and her brother and another sister live just down the road next door to each other; the whole family in this one village. The brother keeps rabbits and chickens and collects grass cuttings to feed them in his pickup truck, which I'm very envious of as it's a double cab model similar to the bakkie I used to have in South Africa. He also has a big German-shepherd type dog that either sits next to him in his bakkie or sticks its nose out through a hole in his garage door as we pass. I have yet to see the whole dog!

There are other dogs in the village, but apart from Colette, whom I've mentioned before, no one else seems to walk their four-pawed friends. Admittedly, they have huge gardens, but the riot from these cooped-up canines when Zoe and I walk down the street suggests that they'd love to join us. Maybe we'll start a trend? Who knows?

On a more personal front, during my absence, the septic tank was emptied and cleaned (a big relief) and we now have proper internet in the house, so blogging will be much easier. Since I came back, we've also managed to dig up all the rusting steel sheets that were  spread across the garden – Koos has cut them into strips so we can now dispose of them – and we've also cleared years of hedge trimmings and garden débris from the lean-to on the side of the house, with huge thanks to daughter 2, Mo, for her incredible help in completing the job.

The top of the septic tank and
the beginning of the steel sheet project

Steel sheets cut, piled up and ready for disposal

The last couple of days have been changeable weather-wise; the sun has been cast aside for some cloudy, rainy weather, so I'll finish now with a couple of pics taken down on the canal side when it was beautifully bright, shiny and warm.

Have a good week allemaal. Living the life in rural France is everything we hoped for. The only improvement would be an open canal, so keep your fingers crossed and I'll be back with more news from the Marne valley soon.