...at last a picture........

For those of you who have been wondering what has been happening in regard to the satellite I have news! After all that Joe had been through, and considering we had had help and advice from three other friends, we felt that we should try to find a solution - no a signal -  to be truthful! When we had been to Cluny a few weeks back, not long after the post about Joe's awful struggle with the satellite, we noticed a sign in the electrical shop where we had first bought our white goods and 2 years ago our wonderful Italian (Sauter) cooker. It said satellite erection, repairs, - and we thought about going in but to be honest I was afraid that it would be far too expensive...
On Saturday we paid a quick visit to the weekly market and when we got back to the car we noticed a sign tucked under our windscreen. This is quite normal, it is a great way to advertise all sorts of things - flea markets, antique fairs, lottos, plant sales etc, and on Saturday it was an advert for the electrical shop and the satellite erection! I suggested we might pursue this and Joe agreed!
So on Tuesday afternoon, taking a deep breath we entered the shop - I say I took a deep breath as they speak no English. Could I make myself understood and explain that we had a satellite dish (parabole), we had a satellite box, we had cable, we had tried for 5 days (no, Joe had tried for 5 days) and had no signal, could the technician please help. Amazing - immediately understood - would tomorrow afternoon after 3pm be convenient?  - oh most certainly it would. Could I pay the technician by cheque? - most certainly I could.    Well that was easy!
We had promised to put up our Union flag to show the technician where we were - with no street name and house number it is very hard to find us - we know this as 2 parcels of letters have already gone astray or been returned to England.
Around about 4pm a white van with ladders on it drew up outside - he was here! Instantly my delight was dashed by the need to speak in French. I am always daunted by this because I want to get understood but not make any gaffs considered to be offensive. To our delight, the technician spoke a few words of English and soon understood our problem and why he had been called in. He had all the right equipment to find a signal - and the ladders to get on to the roof! He began by standing in the middle of the road seeking the illusive signal. It takes a while! (I have to say that this made me feel better for Joe - it certainly was not the straightforward task we had first imagined it would be!) Next the technician came to explain that he was going to put up the parabole on the chimney and use a double cable, connecting to the existing antenna on the roof for the French television, and also to the parabole for the satellite box. He made it sound so easy although I know it wasn't! 

ladders up and the parabole goes on the roof!



Soon the cable was being pulled through the walls and connected to the socket, and then the TV was turned on and at last a picture! French connected, English connected!
We wrote the cheque with delight. It was expensive but below what I had budgeted in my head and moreover we can watch and learn! And what did we watch tonight?  Grand Designs revisited about a couple who built a house in the Lot region of France!






la sainte semaine part 2

The Taize community seemed to have rubber walls in Holy week. Each time we went there we saw more and more buses arriving packed with young people. There was the familiar rumble of suitcase wheels across the tarmac then the bump, bump, bump over the stony tracks towards the accommodation. I didn't envy them camping - it was still cold at night and clear - brrrrrrrr. But their enthusiasm was infectious!
We had decided that we would commit ourselves to morning prayer/Eucharist at 8:15 each morning followed by a picnic breakfast in the car and then on to the adults' Bible introduction at 10am.
The brother who was leading it, brother Pedro, introduced the theme for the week - Isaiah. I remembered how an ex-colleague had complained how often Isaiah was read in the liturgy and I wondered if I would be fed up with it by the end of the week...What a silly idea, each time I have been to the Bible introduction I have always found new insights and helps along my journey!
The trouble is I am getting older (significant birthday in October!), and sitting what turned out to be almost 4 hours a day on a bench for the Bible introductions and the worship in the church did my back no good at all! By the end of the week I had chronic back ache which I found made me grumpy. But then on Good Friday I spent some time thinking about the pain and suffering of Jesus. The whole process of crucifixion is excruciating especially on the back, as the whole weight is taken on the wrists and feet. The trouble is that it is difficult to fill the lungs with air and the only way to do it is to push up on the nail going through the feet. That rather put my bad back into context...
As always when visiting Taize there are some surprises, those "chance" meetings - and there were 2 this time.
On  Palm Sunday morning on the car park we met a delightful English couple who were staying in their caravan and commuting in as we were for the Bible study and worship. As the week went by we found ourselves walking the way together and they were such an encouragement to us both...
Then on the Saturday evening I broke the rules...In the church there is supposed to be silence...but we were there very early before the evening service as a new brother was being made a member of the brothers' community and we knew it would be very full.

This was a photo taken at the same ceremony of another brother.
The promises made are that of a typical monastic community - poverty, chastity and obedience, but they are couched in different ways emphasising the interdependence of the brothers and their faith together in God.

Anyway, as I sat waiting for the beginning of the service and praying a bit and watching people a lady came and sat next to me and wished me "Bonsoir." I responded and she asked if I was French. I explained I was English but lived here and ran a b and b. She took a sharp intake of breathe. She explained that she and her husband and 2 teen-aged children lived in Frankfurt and were staying in the family accommodation in Taize. However, that very day they had realised that because of the age of the children next year they would no longer be able to use the same facilities and would need to look for somewhere in the area to stay. We introduced ourselves properly and I gave her one of our cards. She was so delightful and I hope that she will get into contact with us. Each encounter brings a little more encouragement.

Brother Alois

We had 2 Italian families staying with us over the weekend so at breakfast on Easter morning I decorated the table with flowers and a large candle and Easter eggs. Then we all went to Taize to one of the biggest services I have ever been to. The brazier was lit in the church and the enormous Easter Candle was lit and carried through the church. There were so many people present that 150 scouts staying there were on car park duty and there was a big Red Cross post set up outside with an ambulance at the ready in case of sudden illness. There was an overflow tent which seated several hundred in addition to the main church and both were very full. The singing was full of the joy of the resurrection and I really felt that we had spent a valuable if not busy Holy week. At the end of the liturgy, Brother Alois the prior, spoke out the words "Christ is risen!" to which the response is "He is risen indeed!" But it was not just in one language, it was in many,- he had obviously been preparing very carefully and thoroughly! As each language was spoken there was a cheer from those people and it seemed to go on for ages! The only other one that I recognised and remembered was "Le Christ est resussite!" to which the response was"Il est vraiment resussite!" As Brother Alois completed the greeting there was an amazing and resounding round of applause!  - and with renewed hope and joy I joined in!

la sainte semaine part 1

On Palm Sunday we were intrigued to discover if like in England, each worshipper is given a dried folded palm cross for the liturgy of Palm Sunday. We had asked one of the brothers in Taize but he was rather vague about it.

The palm crosses
we are used to!

 When we arrived at the church doors early on Sunday morning there was a long queue of mainly young people waiting to get into church. Two young people gave out branches that had been taken from hedgerows - literally branches - and we carried these into the church. We had what I would consider a "normal" Eucharist but what was very striking was watching the brothers leaving the church in a huddle carrying their branches and it looked like they were a following crowd. I loved the fact we were given "living" branches and we kept ours in a vase in the house for the rest of Holy week, adding flowers to them on Easter Sunday.
We had already decided that although we had guests staying for 2 nights over Easter, we would make the commitment for the week to get to morning prayer/Eucharist each morning at 8:15am and then to the Bible study at 10am and then back in the evening for the Evening prayer at 8:30pm.


After the Bible introduction on Monday, it being a lovely day with warm sunshine, Joe got out my bike so I could go out for a ride. It was the first time in about 7 years that I had ventured out - and I did think I might have forgotten how to ride! To make it easier we drove the car down to the village at the bottom of the hill where the "voie verte" runs - in a previous blog I have written about the voie verte that runs from Macon to Chalon running along the old railway line. The great joy is that it is car free and mainly easy riding!

Spring in its way on the edge of
the voie verte!

Joe got the bike into the back of the car for me and with the boot tied down with a piece of string, as he couldn't quite fit it in, we set off . Joe does not ride a bike with confidence but he loves to walk so whilst he walked I rode the bike - it was so warm that I was in a tee-shirt and really comfortable. Everything was going well, I didn't wobble too much and there were hardly any other people around! I rode ahead then turned around and I went back to Joe. I was conscious that of course I had to ride back to the car and since it was my first ride for so long I wasn't going to take any chances! After a couple of rides and turn around I suggested to Joe he walked on a little further whilst I rode back to the car and popped the bike in the back (of course I can do it!), then picked him up where a lane crosses the voie verte. I remembered to ask for the car keys and set off back to the old railway station at Massilly. I was feeling confident!

How misplaced that was!!

I have to tell you that our car is a Renault with a key less ignition system. As long as you have the card for the car with you, the door will open.

Approaching the car from the boot I dismounted and hanging on to the bike with one hand I opened the boot with the other. At this point sense left me completely! Having opened the boot I threw the car keys to the front of the car where they landed in the well of the passenger seat. Great place as it would be really easy to get into the driver's seat and simply reach over for them....
I remembered that Joe had not been able to shut the boot with the bike in the back. He had taken out one of the seats and when I looked at the space I couldn't really see how it was that he had had such difficulty! I would be able to do it!
I lifted the car in front wheel first, having already tried to take the wheel off, but soon realising that I should have taken a spanner with me...
OK, out comes the bike for the first time!
I decided that the bike might fit in better the other way round. I lift the bike in again. Hm not as easy as I thought. I decided that if I leave the bike in the back I can go around to the back door and then pull the bike through into the back much more easily, I wonder why Joe didn't do that?
Then disaster! I realise with horror and extreme embarrassment that I have locked myself out of the rest of the car and can only get back in again if I can get hold of the keys. The only way to get them is to clamber through the boot into the car and then I will be able to open the door. I lift the bike out of the boot once more, and as delicately as I can I climb into the boot and on my poor knackety knees I start to make my way towards the front of the car. Then a brainwave! I will open the passenger door behind the driver's seat from the inside, and that will help. I manage that and with as much dignity as I can now muster I retrace on my knees the exit out of the boot. (I should point out at this moment that there were 2 French people about 50 metres away having a chat, and I was hoping that they were so enthralled with their conversation that they were taking no notice of me and were not counting how many times by now I have tried to put the bike in the car!
I try the bike again, back wheel first and then I go around to the side door to pull it as far up the car as I can. This achieved I realise that this is hopeless, it is not length that I need but width so I can bend the wheel around to fit into the boot. I have a further thought - if I drop down another back seat the bike might now fit...The bike comes out of the car yet once more....(I now remember ruefully how hard I laughed when I heard the Hoffnung monologue about the bucket on the building site and I realise how very easy it is to get into the same kind of pickle!!!!)
I drop down the car seat, phew! more room. I lift the bike carefully into the larger space at which point the car shelf that has been stored on one side falls right in front of where I am trying to put the bike. I stop and lift the bike out again. By this time tears of frustration and laughter are duelling within me! I am truly dangerous, what was Joe thinking of when he let me decide to put the bike back myself? (well if I am truthful I was determined!!!)
I move the parcel shelf carefully back to one side and lift the bike in, go round to the passenger door at the back and pull it through. Back to the boot and a quick manoeuvre and the bike is in YES! At this moment I notice the string that Joe used to close the boot in the first place...I close the boot very quickly with a red face, and thinking that I have burnt more calories in lifted the bike in and out of the car rather than on my bike ride, I drive carefully past the French couple still talking avidly to one another and I go and collect Joe who has been waiting for some time...
Why did I entitle this blog holy week? Well I learnt a lesson in humility and I hope that I will remember it! More about the Easter three days in Taize in the next blog!

How did we get here?...

So far on my blog, I have made very little reference as to how we ended up in this part of France and why we have effectively emigrated from England. It has seemed right as we experienced Holy Week here for the first time, to reflect on how we were guided and led.

Joe and I have always worshipped together in various churches in the Church of England - 4 in fact and although Joe's background and heritage was Roman Catholic, he has always been able to live in an ecumenical dimension, holding his personal faith in parallel with the Anglican church. Sometimes he has found it puzzling, amusing and downright frustrating to observe the oddities of the established church of England!

For my part, I started my faith journey in the Methodist church, then 5 years in the Baptist church then eventually the Anglican church, in Jersey, Somerset, London, Wolverhampton, Wordsley and Wombourne.

Our family holidays, - in fact it started with our honeymoon have taken us almost every year to France. We've seen some parts more than once and have yet to visit many others.

This is how the French children are taught
 to draw their country!

The "hexagone" as it is known here (because of its shape) has an endless variety of countryside, hamlet, village, town and city to explore. From the Alps in the East - including Mont Blanc - which we can see from the top of the ridge above our house - to the breakers and dangerous tides of the Atlantic coast there is much to be explored.

When we worshipped in Wordsley, we were introduced to the music of Taizé. Taizé is a tiny village 8 minutes from our house where an ecumenical group of monks live, worship and share life.
www.taize.fr this tells you a lot more about it than I can on here- and much better than me!
Being curious to learn more, we arranged to take our trailer tent to a camp site from which we could drive to Taizé. We drove over hill and through valley for what seemed ages that very first time, and got there for evening prayer.
There were hundreds of young people milling around and the church, which seats about 6000 (on the floor and with a few benches for the older folk) filled up quickly and as the bells began to ring the brothers, wearing their prayer robes came in - not in an orderly fashion so much as in ones and twos. The church was in silence, as befits a monastic community, and soon one brother began to play the keyboard and the voices were raised and we were transported in faith and in the most wonderful atmosphere of God's presence that it is difficult to describe.

The whole service flowed, with no announcement and with an electronic display to tell you the number of the chant being sung. Then after a psalm, Bible reading and prayer - often translated into several different languages reflecting the nationalities of those present - both monks and visitors, there was silence. A silence so profound that you imagine that it is impossible to have that kind of silence among so many for so long - 10 minutes or so - then intercessions more singing and then the end...except that people stay in the church after most of the brothers are gone, either to consult the few who are left and stand at various points where they can be spoken with, or to continue to sing or to pray in front of the icon of the cross.

I wept through the silence the first time I was there; I felt for the first time ever that I was at home in this environment and God did not speak in a whisper, but with a clarity and directness I had rarely ever known.
I can't remember what we said - if anything - on the way back to the campsite, but the seeds were sown in that time of our future in department 71 - Saone et Loire - a department in the Burgundy region.
It was through conversations together, often as we drove through the area when on holiday, that we both separately came to the conclusion that if we were thinking "with our hearts" a phrase one of the brothers of the Taize community used in a Bible introduction we attended one summer, we wanted to be in France more often...did we even dare to think - for all the time? No, I don't think we had quite got that far...step by step...it is less scary that way!
Then we were in a position to buy a house here in France, there was no question that it would be as near as possible to Taizé....and so over 6 years on we are here...
This sets the context for the next blog - about Holy Week 2012 - la semaine sainte.