Finally Found a Lefty Mug

I know what you're gonna say: a lefty mug? What the hell is that? And if you're talking about a mug that is made for left-handed people, allow me a little laugh, a mug is like a glass or a pen, it's not made for right or left-handed people, there is just one side to it.

NO.

NO, NO and NO!

That is where you guys are so very wrong. 

I totally agree on the fact that a glass, or a pen don't have a side. Whether you're right-handed or a lefty, it doesn't matter, you can use it. But there are so many objects that DO have a side and a mug is one of them. How, you're gonna ask? Because the print is on the right side. Not right, the opposite of left, right, the correct side of the mug. 

When you hold a mug in your hand, you normally don't face the image on it. Well in 99% of the cases, i do. Cuz i hold my mug in my left hand. 

But the other day, we bought a few mugs with the "lapins crétins" (idiot rabbits) on them. And one of them is the Holy Graal of the mug for lefties ... It's the biggest one, a black one and i love it! Just because i now feel that this mug was specially made for me :D

Now, i need to find a fish knife that is made for me as well and my life will be complete!

Yes, cuz fish knives have a side too ...

My Problems Are Not Yours

It's not that nobody ever has the same kind of problems that i DO have, it's just that my job implies problems that not every John Doe has. As you might know by now, my current job is actually divided in 3 parts: working the land, cleaning septic tanks and installing septic tanks (with all the civil engineering works involved). 

A few days ago, we had to plow some of our fields. It's that time of the year when you have inspectors checking that you've done what needs to be done at the time it has to be done so Anthony and I were both on our respective tractors and doing lines in the same field. The problem there was that day was that the soil was so very much in love with the tractor and my feet it made massive sticky blocks everywhere. So i had to stop every other line to scrape the dirt out (took forever to take it off my shoes because, as usual, i only take my boots when my regular working shoes are either soaking wet or covered in so much dirt i feel like i'm actually walking 50cm off the ground). 

Needless to say that we had some serious cleaning to do afterwards. Took me 2 hours to see the axletree of my tractor again!!

and you haven't see what it looked like from the back!

I don't know who invented the Karsher (a high-pression water hose) but it is an awesome invention. A very splashy invention but a great one nonetheless. Even if i had to use a hook, a pickaxe and my own hands to get rid of it all, let's be honest, the Karsher did a lot of the tedious job. But damn, i was covered in dirt from head to toes. With the misty rain to accompany me, it was one heck of a job to do. I was drained when i was done. Literally! 

But today was the apotheosis of my working day. For the first time ever, this morning, i got sent ALONE to empty a couple of septic tanks. It went pretty well to be honest, even though moving all those sucking pipes is heavy. I got to drive the shit truck on my own, did the hoovering, did the oohing and aahing with the pipes, even wrote the bills and the certificates. But what do you do when your truck is full? Well you go to the shityard to empty said truck.

That was the second time i was doing it on my own. But man, what a second time it was.

Not entering all the details of how to unload a truck full of shit in a gigantic tank, i can at least say that things need to be done in a certain order. And when you don't follow that order, well, shit happens. And damn did it happen.

When i opened the valve, it was Shitty Yellowstone Old Faithful in all its splendor. I got drenched in shit in a split second. It was phenomenal. It was spectacular. It was so amazing that i took a picture of my misery (after taking a second to get rid of my waterproof (but not shit-proof) vest).

obviously, the phone got some too!

Anthony laughed, my boss laughed and sent me home, my boyfriend didn't think it was funny and kept on complaining about how much i stunk. I took 3 showers: one fully dressed to rinse most of my clothes, and 2 after that and i still feel i'm stinky. It feels like that crap has gone right up into my earrings holes and every single one of my pores! 

This is the kind of magical thing that happens to you ONCE. Not twice, not 3 times, just that one time and i swear to god it's never gonna happen to me again. Order is a tall order now!

But you know what? I still think my life is awesome. Shitty for some part, but awesome nonetheless!

How was YOUR shitty day?

Encounter of the Third Kind

I honestly have no idea what the other 2 kinds of encounters might be but for me, today, it was one of the third kind. Why? Because it was extraordinary. At the root-sense of the word. Meaning, something out of the ordinary. 

(OK just checked, technically, an encounter of the third kind is when you see an UFO which is nothing of the sort).

As most of you know by now (and if you don't, you should read this blog more often! and be ashamed of yourself for not doing so earlier) I now live in the countryside. And even though i don't work with animals, needless to say i've come across cattle more than once. 

I'm not confortable with big animals. Not because i think they're scary or gross but because i've never had interracted with them because i know knew nobody who actually breed them. Up until now obviously.

One of my better half's karatéka is the son of a cow breeder, another one the son of horses and ponies breeder (yep, not comfy with horses either). My grand father in law used to breed swines, my father in law used to breed sheeps but they only have cats left now. And as cats are concerned, i'm pretty well served with my 3. So when i was told that a cow has a tongue that is raspy like one of a cat, i was in shock. I thought they had a smooth one like a dog. Same when i heard that cows are actually pretty affectionate animals. And i thought, damn, i need to go see (and maybe even pet one) from up close.

So i called the guy after my man had told him about my little query. And i met him and his cows today. 

When i parked by the field they were staying in, first thing that came to my mind was, damn, they are huge animals. It's very impressive. And i was quite far away from them still! We went in, but since it was in the field where a couple of born-yesterday calves were at, mommy cows were extremely alert and following our every move. So he took me to another field, to introduce me to Marguerite (this is such a stereotype name for a cow, i love it), a cow whom mother died calving and that he pretty much raised on his own, feeding her with a baby bottle.

Daniel and Marguerite

He kept her horns because other cows, as she was growing up, were mean to her because she acted different than they did. Animals are just like human beings, they're racist! They don't like Different. So now, she can actually defend her food when others are trying to steal it from her. 

It was amazing how he called her by her name and how she recognized it and came to us. We had brought some flour that she voraciously devoured. She even ate from my hands. I mean I HAND-FED A COW!!!! (no pic here, it was so over the top that i didn't think about asking him to take a picture)

Marguerite so very much enjoying her food!

I was a lot more nervous when he called the bull. We were in a field with about 15 cows with their calves and one bull. A one point two ton bull. It's bigger (and heavier) than my very own CAR! But i pet him. I PET A FREAKING BULL!!!

THAT bigger-than-everybody-else's bull

We then went to a third field with another baby-bottle fed cow named Peach (Pêche in French). And i couldn't help but ask for my picture taken with her. Otherwise nobody would trust me that i did go in a field full of cows and actually gotten close enough to pet them. 

Peach and I

 I couldn't pet a calf. They're fearful and always stand aback. But jeez aren't they curious. You can tell they're scared but their curiosity is still stronger than their fear and they want to get closer! It's funny. They're like a little kid hidding into mommy's skirt!!

I even got to drive that little tractor (it's not a tractor but i don't know the name of it, not even in French, let alone in English!) to bring a haybale to them. I was on my own (with the farmer's dog) in that little engine, in the middle of a dozen cows, bringing them that caramel flavored candy to them (seriously, this stuff smells like caramel, no wonder they like it!).

Farmers in France, even in the countryside, have a reputation of being assholes. And jerks. Well i have yet to meet one of these nasty specimen because all the ones that i've crossed path with have been nothing but awesome with me. Maybe it's because i'm new to this world, maybe it's because i'm a woman, maybe it's because i'm the wife and the daughter in law of a very well known family here, or maybe it's just because i'm excited about learning and discovering all these new things.

The way he talked about his cows was touching. He could pretty much tell which calf belonged to which cow, and he talked about Marguerite and Peach with some kind of pride but most of all, a tremendous amount of love and affection. This guy cares for his animals and it shows.

It was a fantastic experience for me. And you could tell he was only too happy to show me his "babies". And what is probably so natural for him was an extraordinary encounter for me. Kinda made my day :D

Poetic Justice

I have been on training for a month now and it's finally over. I probably won't be using any of what i've learnt but it was a mandatory training, with an exam at the end so i thought, to hell with this, might as well enjoy the ride and learn something. And i did. There were 15 of us, of which i was naturally the only girl but i met some very cool people with whom i intend to stay in touch. 

I don't like venal people. Or people who just do things because they can get something out of it. I'm not saying i've never done that once in a while but i don't think i can ever truly trust someone who just live that way, 100% of his/her time. And since i was amongst the oldest people during that training, i was somehow shocked of how venal younger folks can be these days. It's all about the money. How much you make, how much you can get from this or that, not doing anything selflessly.

But more than just that greedy behavior of some of the group, i was also shocked (and profoundly annoyed) by their rudeness. They show absolutely no respect to the tutor or the rest of the group, constantly talking (not even lowering their voice), making inadequate comments, arriving late every day, always asking the tutor to repeat because they didn't bother to listen, even sleeping on the table without the slightest care in the world. I could have smacked them.

One of them in particular. So when one day, he decided that sitting next to me in the afternoon was the best thing he could come out with, i was fuming inside. I tolerated him two days before i actually told the tutor that, please, tell him something or i will and it'll be ugly. He did. But it didn't work. Mostly because that piece of shit didn't give an effing damn. 

So i took matters in my own hands. And i told him, just like that: would you please shut the fuck up for at least 5 minutes? It's annoying, it's distracting and more to the point, it prevents me from actually listening to the tutor. I don't give a flying fuck if you don't want to listen but i do so shut up.

Obviously, i said it out loud, not whispering at all and there was this heavy "i-can-hear-a-fly-passing-by" silence in the room and everybody was listening to me having this massive go at him. And funnily enough, most of them were smiling at me, daring to actually say something.

It's easy to complain about things and people. But if there isn't anybody to do or say something, then it's completely useless.

On Friday, we had the test with which we'd qualified as commercial truck drivers. He didn't pass. Karma is a bitch darling. I know i shouldn't be happy but awww, the sweet poetic justice of it all ... made me swoon.

And because i'm allowed to show off a bit ... i came out 2nd. 

This Is A Man's World

And it would be nothing without a woman or a girl. Or so he said. Truth is, there are some trades that are not made for women. Or short guys. And strangely enough, i've just started one just like that. No kidding! (do you honestly think i would bother write about something i haven't experienced myself? Of course not, that's the entire purpose of that blog in the first place!!)

I work the land. I also drain and clean septic tanks. If you still see (less and less) women in the agriculture world, they are a lot scarcer in my other job. And even though you still encounter women who work the land, we still have to face those stereotypes that are stuck in people's head: a woman in agriculture? she must be ugly, or fat, or both, submissive to her husband, not feminine at all and uneducated. 

Jeeez, where to start?

I'm not gonna defend myself on it all, i honestly don't care what people might think. I don't consider myself ugly, nor fat, let alone submissive and i have 2 degrees (which are, in all honesty, completely useless for what i do now for a living). But i'd like to talk about the feminine aspect of it.

For my new jobs, needless to say that i needed some adapted clothing. Cuz i wouldn't be using my regular everyday jeans or shoes knowing i would either be in the fields, in shit holes (literally) and doing some mechanics hence lying on questionably clean floors. 

So i went to the store which sell such clothing and shoes (amongst tools, construction material, paint and so on). And i have a few questions to ask all those people convinced that women doing men's jobs don't look feminine or pretty while working: 

- How can you possibly look good in men's clothes? 

- How do you look feminine wearing a trouser that is 2 sizes above your own? 

- How do you walk like you own the place when your safety shoes are also 2 sizes above your own? 

- How do you look good with clothes that are stained with grease that doesn't wash off in the washer? 

- How can you smell good when you spread chicken shit in your fields? 

- How can your hands look like you've just come out of a French manicure when you have to change the tire of a 15 tons truck or dig in the engine to get something fixed?

You can't.

But man or woman, you'll be happy to find your favorite bread at the bakery made with the cereals we planted and harvested, or eating your t-bone from the cow that ate those same cereals, and probably even happier to see the back of us once your septic tank is finally emptied and it doesn't smell like hell's broken loose in your kitchen and bathroom.

End of it all, does it matter what we look? 

There's a job to be done and that's all there is.

PS: and that makes me able to say that I am the one wearing the pants!

I love being a girl. And i love my masculine job. But why should i stop the glamour when i'm in my tractor? Girl power in the tractor! LOL.

Best Birthday Gift Ever

NOT!!! LOL

Every year, you know, there are dates that are automatically coming back, anniversaries and birthdays being some of these. Obviously. I'm not a big fan of big birthday bashes, nor is my better half so we didn't plan anything special, just a dinner at a restaurant and that was pretty much it! 

What my boss had in store for me though, was quite another story!

Totally oblivious it was my birthday (which kinda makes me think it would probably have been a lot worse!), i got sent with my pal and co-worker Anthony down a shite pit we're installing right now, the day after it had rained pretty much all night. And no it wasn't shit i was stepping onto but clay.

Go down in the pit, he said, it's dry he added. 

DRY MY ASS!

It took me for freaking ever to get the clay off of my boots and i had to drive home barefoot in order not to plaster that crap all over the carpets of my car. 

That pleasant interaction with one of nature's stickiest shit was only the hors-d'oeuvre.  In the afternoon, the boss said that he needed the two of us on another kind of oh-so-enjoyable task: standing at the back of the crop-spreader because he had just ordered several tons of chicken shit mix to spread onto the newly planted rapeseed. And since the mix was with chicken shit and sawdust, we had to make sure that it wouldn't get blocked inside hence, not spread where it should be.

It was 27ºC outside, we were under the burning sun, with hats, gaz mask for the dust and our sticks to break up the occasional block of chicken shit and long story short, we were COVERED in chicken shit dust. The only place that mess didn't get into was my panties.

But we did it. And as we've grown accustomed to, we had fun doing it. Anthony shot a video but no picture is here to show the apocalyptic look i had! Doesn't matter. I still think it's the most unusual yet awesome way of celebrating my birthday.

I freaking love my job!

I Have A New Friend!

We're not technically "friends" per say, but in the fields i've been spending time in, i've noticed this big bird of prey, probably a different one each time since i'm not on the same spot every time. Don't get me wrong, i'm not a big fan of birds, but strangely, i don't mind birds of prey. My problem is that i can't seem to find its name. 

It's a big grey hawk that looks like a mix between a Northern Goshawk (but doesn't have as much white as this one) and the Crane Hawk (but that one is from America so can't be).

Northern Goshawk

Crane Hawk

I've seen it hunt and get mice, walking on the fresh plowed land and chasing another one off of his dinning "room"! These birds are majectic. It's a utter pleasure to watch them be. I wish i could get closer. I even wish i could touch them.

I love the countryside. 

I Nap Everyday

So i've started a new job. I love it. But damn right it's tiring. 

The other day, 3pm, in the middle of a field, behind the wheel of a tractor and i was seriously dozing. I thought, crap, this isn't good. I mean, it's less dangerous than on a road or if i was driving a trailer truck but still, it's not good anyway.

When i mentioned it to my man, he told me, well, take a quick nap when you come back home on your lunch break. And i thought, pfff, what's the point, for a me, a nap is at least 1 hour and a half long so i won't have time for that. Morevoer, it makes me grumpy ! And he said, no, you need to take a power nap. 20-30 min max. 

I was hyper skeptical. How can i possibly fall asleep, rest and wake up and be on the go in 30 minutes? 

Well i did it. Went to my bedroom, took off my working clothes, set the alarm for 1:30pm and fell asleep in the blink of an eye and slept like a log. For 20 minutes. It changed my afternoon. My life. And my perception of naps.

A power nap is repairing. I start my afternoon shift all pumped up and reloaded for what awaits me. I always try to leave work on time (at noon) so i have time to eat without rushing and take a nap. 

I never thought i'd ever nap without feeling groggy and/or bitchy. I'd never thought i'd nap at all!! But it's something i enjoy every day. It's something i believe i actually NEED every day.

Who knew i'd become the napping type!

I Have OCD

I just realized that i do have OCD. Not in a big kinda way but i do have at least one little thing i cannot deal with without being overly uncomfortable. 

OCD is a disease. And i know for a fact that i'm not sick. But i have this obsession that i can't control. I'm fully aware of it and not sorry about it nor suffer from it.

My obsession is that my tea cup (or coffee cup) has to be full to the brim. Always. If the liquid doesn't come up to the top, i re-heat some more water to make sure it does. 

On Tuesday morning, my tea was almost 1cm lower than the edge of my giant mug and i thought, sod it, i'm not heating more water. And at the same time, i thought, well, this is not a good start to a day.

Little did i know that on that very same day, i had 3 breakings on the tractor and couldn't finish what i had started the day before. 

So from now on, even if it sounds stupid, picky or demanding, i don't care, i'll ask for more water to make sure my cup is full the way it should ...

Life In The Slow Lane

As of today, i have started a new job and oh, what a 180º turn around it's been! I am now officially a farmer. I don't work with animals, i work with the land. So obviously, I've had to learn how to drive a tractor. And god knows it's nowhere close to driving a car. Or a truck since i now can. But let's put those details aside for now. 

On my first day, my boss, who happens to also be my father-in-law, brought me to a big ass field (17 something hectares to be exact), showed me how to drive the tractor, drew a couple of lines with it to show me and then told me, OK, off you go, call me if you have a problem. 

And there i was, alone, in the middle of the field, thinking of all the buttons and shit i had to do before even thinking on moving the tractor and more than a hundred and seventy thousand square meters of land to furrow. 

I followed big boss's advice, got myself in 4th of the slow gear, blocked the speed to 5km/h and off i was. FIVE FREAKING KILOMETER AN HOUR. Do you even realize how stupidly SLOW that is? 

Well so i thought. Up until i actually got going ... and then trust me, in a field, behind a wheel of a tractor, 5km/h shakes the crap out of you and it truly feels like you're going 100km/h. And honestly, it helps you put things into perspective. 

I have seen, while in that field, animals i hadn't seen in years: all kind of birds, hares, rabbits, mice, all kind of insects and butterflies and this quietness i was so longing for. Obviously, the tractor's engine is loud but in the air conditioned cabin with the radio on, i'm like in a cocoon, all by my lonesome self.

And i'm going slow. Very slow.

And it feels good.

Here, time seems to have stopped. And after all the frenzy of the city and life in general, it's a huge bowl of fresh air.

I'm loving every second of it.

I Got My Truck Driving Licence

I have no idea if that's the way you call it in English but i don't really care. I spent 2 weeks training like crazy to present my exam to get my driving licence to drive trucks and i got it.

I freaking got it at my first attempt.

When we first started the training, we were in the classroom for about 15 minutes when the instructor said, i'm presenting yourself for the theory in a week. OK. Wait. WHAT? In a WEEK? Like in 7 days? After only 5 days of training here with you? Are you out of your freaking mind?

Needless to say the tension got up one notch. At least for me. There were only 3 of us for that session at the beginning of August and the other 2 were 2 young guys who drove trucks before so i guess they weren't freaking out as much. But that was still a shit load of stuff to learn and know in a short amount of time.

And that's when you notice that we truly are all different people. The two guys maneuvered the truck like they were born driving it whereas i was excelling in all the writing tests and the learnt-by-heart texts we had to say during the exam. So they spent time in the classroom and i spent time on the practice track polishing my reverse (slalom) driving and parallel parking skills!

On the day of the exam, i was sick i could have puked. I didn't. We presented the exam in alphabetical order hence, me first. I also had the horror honor to pick the maneuver we were gonna have to do: right side parallel parking. FUCK.

It all went well until my first attempt at the maneuver. I exceeded the allowed time and i was only half way through. Took a deep breath, drove back to the departure point, put a smile on my face and tried again. All in one go, like a freaking PRO!

We spent the rest of the second week driving the truck in traffic and it went rather well. That's when you're behind the wheel of a 19 tons truck that you come to realize that car-drivers are assholes who believe they own the road. Being on the other side has transformed the way i drive my car now and i like to believe i'm not the potato head i used to be.

I presented the driving exam on Tuesday. I so very nearly avoided a crash with a dick in a delivery van who probably thought that staying behind a school truck for 30 seconds was already outrageous enough and cut me up without a care in the world. 

The Holy Grail came in the mail 2 days later ... 

I am officially a TRUCK DRIVER!

I Drink Boiling Water

When i drink coffee, or tea, or soup, it always has to be boiling hot. I've never really question it, it's always been that way i've liked it and well, it has to be that hot for me to actually enjoy it. I also take showers that are probably hotter than most of anybody's morning coffee cup but that's another story.

So i never really paid more attention than that to the fact that i drink pretty damn hot liquid. Up until my man actually made me notice it. He wondered why. I had no answer, it's just always been that way. 

Then one day, we were at my parent's house and i realized, after a comment my dad made, that my mom also drink super hot coffee. And i thought that, there you go, i must have gotten that from her! Mothers and fathers pass on habits to their children and i did just that. And i immediately thought, well, then, problem solved (supposing that's a problem, which i don't think it is in the first place!)

Drinking boiling water being an established fact now, my man and i didn't fuss about it any longer (nor that we even did before). At least, not up until my aunt invited us over for lunch at her place. She's my mom's older sister. 

We have lunch together, and then she obviously offers coffee or tea at the end. I chose tea and notice that she poured boiling water in my cup. I smiled at my man and told him, see, it's obviously running in the family, we must have gotten that habit from my grand mother then! 

And that's when my aunt told me: you don't know why, on this side of the family, we drink boiling water? I was shocked: WHAT? there's actually a REASON behind it?? AWESOME. I want to know!!

My grand mother was the 12th child of 12 and her mother died when giving birth to her. So she was brought up by one of her elder sister. In 1918, there was this massive flu pandemic in Europe (we call it Spanish flu in French but not too sure it translate that way in English) that took the life of millions of people (between 50 and 100!!) and lasted for about 2 years! After it was "over", one of my great-grand-aunt prided herself on making it through because she always drank her coffee and her soup BOILING HOT. So all her brothers and sisters (my grand mother included, even thought she was just a child back then) started to drink super hot in order not to be infected if that dreadful flu would come back.

Let's be honest, drinking that hot is USELESS. But it's a family tradition that has passed onto 3 generations now. After i heard that story, i even remembered my mom telling me to drink extra hot when i was sick (cuz it would supposedly kill all the germs!!).

I don't know if i'll pass it on one day too. But i love that kind of old story ... It kinda give me a feeling of belonging to a clan that's long gone. Grandma, i think of you everytime i drink my tea. Of you and all this gigantic family of yours that i didn't get the chance to know.

Long life to the boiling water drinkers clan!! :D

I Said No For the First Time

Today, i'm feeling so proud of myself because just a few minutes ago, i dared to say no to someone. It's not like I've never said no before but when it comes to customer service for example, i'm a wuss and i can't really say no. One of the many reasons i don't like to have vendors around when i shop (or stroll in a store). Well today, i stood up on my grounds and i said no. Who to? To a hairdresser. 

I need a haircut. To say urgently would be an understatement. I died my hair a dark shade of red a few days ago but the haircut i currently have looks like nothing. So i went to my favorite hair salon (it's my favorite because it's very affordable and you sit on a massaging seat while getting your hair shampooed! OMG just for the massaging chair it's worth the trip) in order to check if i could get a haircut today, like right now (cuz i generally don't make an appointment to have my hair cut, bad habit i got from Mexico, where you can show up and get attended!). Thing is, i have been twice to this salon. The first guy who cut my hair did an amazing job and i absolutely LOVED the result. So it was with high hopes i went again some time later but to be taken care of by another guy whom a) i didn't have a good vibe from him and b) who kinda messed up my cut. And trust me, with that amount of hair on my head, when there are different uneven layers of hair, it shows.

So when this second dude came to attend me when i was standing at the entrance of the salon, i thought, shit. The other guy was there, just finishing a cut. Dude told me he had room within an hour and then, i don't know where it came from but i asked him: who will that be with? And he answered myself. He also added: do you have a preference? And that's when i had this leap of courage and told him: I'd rather go with him (pointing at the guy who was attending his client). Dude left, looking slightly annoyed and Pascal (because i know his name now) broadly smiled at me and set up the appointment for later today.

I have never done something like this before. I generally don't say anything when i don't like the haircut or if my meat is too cooked at the restaurant. I don't know why. Maybe i don't want to appear as picky or bitchy but when i think about it, what is the point? What is the point of not telling when you're not happy with something you're actually paying for? You don't have to be mean or bitchy when you speak up your mind. And that's what i realized today. You can be firm but pleasant. 

Anyway, can't wait for my appointment now. Hopefully, i'll come back with something edgy. Maybe something like this ... Who knows!

My New Project

I always have so many projects going on in my life and in my head and i'm always extremely excited about them all. Tonight is no different and to say that i'm excited about this one would be an understatement.

A few weeks ago, or maybe it was a few months ago already, a friend of mine did an outstandingly awesome artwork for his parents-in-law and then another one for his wife and in all honesty, i was green with envy. And i kind of felt a pinch of jealousy as well, not having that kind of gift myself. Well that was until tonight. 

I was chatting with a friend of mine and we were talking plants, garden and my wish on growing heirloom vegetables instead of the traditional ones you get to find at your local supermarket or grocery store (for those of you who don't know what heirloom veggies are, they are what we call in French "forgotten vegetables", those veggies that are old as dirt but that nobody else but passionate gardeners grow in their garden). 

She said it'd be a great idea and deplored the fact that she can't grow any kind of plant, even the easiest to care for. And that's when i remembered 2 things: 

- i do have green thumbs and can grow any kind of seed (with the exception of flowers, i'll work on it, i promise, but for now, flowers are definitely not my thing)

- a friend of mine had the same problem with plants and i actually care for her plants every time i was visiting her.

And i thought ... why not doing this "i take care of your plants" thingy again. Problem is: my friend is living pretty much on the other side of the world. We're not on the same continent and there's the Atlantic Ocean in between us two! 

That's when "i live in the 21st century" actually is an awesome thing: i can video call with her, i can send her written tutorials and genius idea: i can make little videos and send them to her with some basic advises for whatever plant she's willing to grow.

She sounded excited about the idea - obviously i was even more excited than she could ever be!! - and she's going to the nursery on Monday. I've never wanted it to be Monday that early in the week-end! I don't even recall wanting a Monday to arrive earlier EVER! LOL.

Obviously, since i'm still living in that rabbit hole, i won't be able to make video tutorials just yet but i don't care, i have this awesome project to help my friend sort her problem with growing plants and that's so exciting. Projects are fun. And this one is like doing my own garden already - but long distance. I can't wait to see the results. I'm sure she'll do great!

We're starting off easy, with cactus and perennial plants. Then we'll move on. Maybe one day i'll even managed to help her grow flowers! Who knows!

My Cat Has Hepatitis

As you sure know by now, i have 3 cats and all 3 of them came back to France with me last year. Things have been going on pretty good with one little drawback: they can't really go outside. We don't have a garden and we live in a residence that has a major traffic road passing right in front of it. And so many stupid ass drivers who thing the parking lot is a race track. Anyways.

Needless to say that my cats have no idea or concept of what cold weather might be so they didn't build up that extra thick fur when the temperatures dropped at the beginning of the winter. Hence the salad they make to keep warm!

My oldest cat, Psycha, is a fat lady. She was weighing 6.5kg (about 14 lbs) when we got back from Mexico. 

before

At the end of November, we got this pretty cold weather, with temperatures in the negative (i'm talking Celsius here!!) and she started to get thinner. I thought that, well, she was digging into her fat to deal with the cold (even though they were inside at all time, you can still feel the outside coldness on the floor and at the window). I started worrying when she kept on dropping weight at an unusual pace. At one point, i could see pretty much every single of her back bones as well as her shoulder blade and hips. One night, i realized she wasn't eating anymore and i picked her up and that's when my heart broke into pieces. She was lighter than a feather and the second she was on my lap, she rolled herself up in a little static ball and cuddled up to me. It's heart-wrenching to realize that one of your pet is actually dying. At least that's the feeling i had. She was passed the stage where you actually fight for your life, she had given up.

after

When the vet saw her, his "oh yeah, she's not looking good" turned my blood to ice. Trying to keep my composure, i followed him for the weighting (she was a worrying 3.3kg), the ultrasound and the blood testing. And that's when the verdict fell: she has hepatitis. Behind the scary word lies something reassuring: the hepatitis is a disease of the liver and the liver is this amazing auto-regenerating organ. So with a couple of shots and some pills to stuff down her throat for a couple of weeks, she should be good to go pretty soon.

We went back after 2 weeks for check-up, a second shot and another round of pills and then again after 2 more weeks. On the scale, she was up to 4.3kg and the vet told me: she can go up to 4.5kg and she'll be great. 

Allow me a little laugh ... I weighed her 3 weeks after her last visit, so roughly 2 months after she got diagnosed with hepatitis, she's at 5.7kg and counting!

You go my little fatty. I'll love you no matter what!

That's her now ... does she look like she cares about how much she weights?? (wink wink)

Bronchitis, Yet, Again!

I'm sick ... like i'm-dying-come-help-me sick. 

I went to the doctor.

It's bronchitis.

Again.

Third time in two years. Fourth if the pneumonia i got also count in the lot!

FUCK. THAT. SHIT. 

My New Year Resolutions

What? It's January 22nd? OK and your point is?? :D

I remembered recently about the Mexican tradition of NY celebration and resolutions. I actually wrote a post about it (and you should definitely read it, obviously, since i'm an awesome writer and shit!). So i was thinking, hum, i didn't do a "things i want this year" list for 2014. Maybe going to bed at 11:30pm on the 31st of December, saying to my man, happy new year and good night pretty much at the same time didn't set the right mood for it. 

So anyway, i was thinking about what i might want the other day. As i said a few years back, i don't feel like i need anything. I'm happy with what i have right now. Obviously, getting a job that earns me big bucks would be awesome (instead of working 2 jobs for a shitty wage), moving apartment would be amazing but apart from that, well, i couldn't think about much more.

But i still came out with something. After spending a week-end at my uncle's, talking about this insane relationship with my mother (whom we all agreed, is a bully), we've set a goal for 2014: being able to tell my mom to fuck off. But maybe that's not the kind of new year resolution or goal that fits in the books. 

So on a more serious point of view, i'd like to write more. To write and to read more. I love writing in my blog, i have internet at home now which means i have no excuse for not writing more often. I have various topics i can discuss and write about and well, not another reason than laziness not to do it. So i'm gonna try to write at least once a week. That'd be better than once every trimester!!

Same for reading. I have a zillion books to read, a subscription to the local library and i don't take time to read. What do i do instead? I play on my cellphone. This is TRAGIC. But i have already started to try to change this and i put a book in my bag. So now, when i'm waiting wherever i need to wait, i read instead of playing. I guess it's just a habit to re-establish in my routine.

So there, my NY list of resolutions: write more, read more and standing my grounds more against my mom.

Happy New Year everybody!

I'm Gonna Be A Samourai

I have had that wish of practicing a Martial Arts since forever. And my man being a Karate, Thai Boxing, Full Contact and Karate Contact teacher (among other stuff i can't remember just now), a lot of people seemed to assume i would go that way too. Things is, Karate and all these mentioned arts are HIS domain, not mine. That's his life, his passion, his leisure, his friends, and definitely not mine. Moreover, i didn't want, on top of it all, to become his wife at the dojo. So i said sod it, i'm not doing this.

That's when i realized i never really got attracted to Karate and kicking with my feet and hands. The only combat sport i considered once was boxing because i had just seen "Million Dollar Baby" and i was dying to get Hillary Swank's back!!!

No, what I've always found appealing, were weapons and in particular SABERS. The idea of learning how to properly use a saber to slice people up was definitely a turn on. Moreover, in Japan, it's the noble art. The art of the saber. So yeah, i was going to do just that. 

So there i was, at my free try-out class of Kendo. And even though i don't actually slice people up (it's kinda hard with a bamboo saber!!!), i learn how to hold it, how to hit someone on the head (with the idea to cut him/her down to the eyes), how to cut people's wrist, how to stab someone in the throat, and more generally, how to slice someone vertically and horizontally. And in all honesty, it's freaking AWESOME.

There is something liberating in hitting someone with a saber. Especially since we have to shout at the time we actually do it. So you shout out your rage and physically hit someone on their armor like you're on for the kill. 

Even though the way of the saber is considered the noble art, it still is a martial art hence subject to rules and protocol. You learn respect towards the elders or the higher ranked, obviously big respect to the Senseï, you salute your opponent, you respect in religious silence the moment each person suits themselves up with the armor, you thank your teacher and your fellow companions and you show respect to the dojo your practice into, every time you enter or exit it. All of this ceremony has something sacred in it. It's a feeling i find hard to describe, yet a feeling i truly like.

We all have some rage and anger inside us. And being able to lash it out is soothing. I get out of the class drained, both physically and emotionally and it feels goooood.