Expected result

Well the best thing we can say about the elections is that they're over. The socialists got hammered and there's been a significant swing to the right. The NF in some instances but just to the right in others. Whichever combination, it means the right wing lobby have strengthened their position. No doubt it will give some encouragement to their cohorts in the UK.

We were able to vote in the local elections for the first time and were delighted to be able to do so. We'd registered last year.   We've had the house here for nearly 6 years, although for most of that time we were living our split life. Then last April - a year next week - we moved to this side of the channel. We've steadily got to know quite a few people and to recognise others, which in terms of the Cravant elections, means that we knew all the candidates on the list except for just two of the names. Cravant had one list as our population is under 1000, whereas bigger towns such as Chinon had three or more.

Back at the beginning of the year, there was a drink and a chat for the village with our mayor and team, in the salle de fête, where we were told that new regulations required everyone took a piece of identity with them when they went to vote. Duly noted and for us passeports were the obvious thing. 

The day finally arrived. Down we went to the centre of Cravant fully kitted out with all the required documentation. The system in France is different! If you consider the British process, all the tellers, the people inside checking your name off etc. No candidate anywhere involved with the actual process. Here, it was the candidates themselves who were managing the voting process.  So in we went into the salle, to be met by all the friendly faces of the candidates. Tried to present our passeports. Of course no one was interested as we all knew each other. It was the usual convivialité of kissing and handshaking. I felt ridiculously excited. Just couldn't stop grinning. Took our slips into the booths, marked them up, put them back in little blue envelopes, then went back to post in them in the votes box and a cheer went up. Everyone knew it was the first time we voted.

Essentially the candidates on our local list were all voted back on. Chinon however was a different story. Big swing to the right. The socialist vote fell back to about 25%. There seem to be various reasons for that. The anticipated disillusionment vote with Hollande. The socialists also fell out badly between themselves, splitting their own voting base. And then so we understand, a significant number of voters, were not prepared under any circumstances to vote for a female mayor. The socialists had fielded a woman.  

So interesting and probably difficult times ahead.

I love my Kindle, but . . .

Playing around with my surprisingly much loved Kindle, I came across the experimental heading in the menu,which opened up from the home page. I'm not sure how long I've had my Kindle, which is fact my second one, after Mike accidentally stood a chair on the last one and then sat down.  No way a kindle could stand that type of assault, so Kindle 2 arrived and has survived.

The experimental heading covers Web Browser, Play MP3 which you can access directly from the same menu page, and then something called Text-to-Speech, which providing there isn't a rights issue enables the Kindle to you read your book to you. 

At first I couldn't find how to turn Text-to-Speech on. But having found out, I was also very pleased to learn how to switch it off. My Kindle being an older version has the Text-to-Speech facility on the same page as screen rotation options. Don't know if it now features on the ordinary menu page of more recent versions of the Kindle, but anyway, first off I tried Wuthering Heights. 

For Star Trek fans like me, there are loads of memorable quotations in all the films, but the text-to-speech experience reminded me particularly of McCoy in The Voyage Home, where he's in a hospital, dressed up as a doctor, and finds and elderly patient lying on a  hospital bed in the corridor. 'What's the matter with you?' he asks. ' Kidney dialysis'. 'Kidney dialysis!' says McCoy.'What is this, the dark ages?".  

Perfectly matches - at least for me - the quality of the Kindle text-to-speech experience. The dark ages of computer voice reproduction. Monotone expression, that completely ignores any punctuation and being computerised requires no breathing, so every sentence runs into the next. Then unfortunately, I tried Le Quatrième Mur, by Sorj Chalandon, which our bookclub is reading for our next meeting. Big mistake. All the above problems, but additionally, no French accent, terrible computerised pronunciation, with the words overlapping each other. Unintelligible at times. For example: guidé nos pas, becomes guided nose pad. Il était  tout petit becomes El tout paddy. 

Hilarious and excruciating at the same time. Sorry Kindle, but someone should have got in touch with Stephen Hawking's team.

One all!

Wordless for couple of weeks. Week 1: snivelling cold, sore throat, shitty weather - so didn't feel inspired to blog. Week 2: beautiful sunny days, photography, rehearsals, great films, occasional moments of socialising, strange dreams involving multi-coloured sheep -  that's Mike not me, but one has to listen! No time to blog. Until now. Feeling around 95% of my usual self and voice is more or less back, except rehearsing for too long tires it out and I start to sound like Lou Reed. Visually of course there is no confusion. Gig is coming up at the end of March. Fingers crossed it goes as well as the last one. I'm singing my first complete song in French, which is making me twitch slightly, particularly as the artist known for the song, Zaz, is headlining just up the road from us at this year's Avoine Blues Festival.

Am enjoying getting back out to do some photography. I'm putting the finishing touches to my landscape photography diploma, which needs to be handed in at the end of April. Best time for pics has been late afternoon about 4.30pm. The sun has been low and a warm orange, and with all the impromptu reservoirs appearing from so much rain, there have been wonderful 'reflection shots' to take.

News on the domestic front is that Mike and I have achieved an equilibrium. This relates to glasses frames and has taken several decades to achieve. Some time ago when we were still in London, driving back to our house one evening in winter, I dropped Mike back home before going on somewhere. He got out of the car, shut the door, and I started to drive off - gently. Mike tapped the window and waved his arms around. I reversed back and wound down the window to hear what he was saying. He was trying to tell me that as he got out of the car, his glasses got knocked off. Unfortunately when I reversed to hear what he wanted to tell me, I ran over the glasses. Instant demolition!

Roll forward to yesterday. We're out and about. I saw a good site for some photos. We stopped and parked. I got out and wandered down to the river where some traditional boats were moored under some trees. Quite muddy and I was wearing the wrong type of shoes. Walked back towards the path, only to tread on a muddy patch and promptly fell flat on my face, while holding my precious camera up in the air, so as not to get it damaged. Didn't matter if I tore or broke anything else. My glasses went flying. Matching the colour of the pathway perfectly neither of us could see where the glasses had landed. Mike then moves. Crunch. I have to give it to him - stylishly done. No damage to the lenses, but the frames looked like triffids on speed.  So we're finally even. One set of wrecked lenses each. This morning we went to the optician 'Krys' in Chinon. Explained what happened. They laughed. Twenty minutes later, I came out wearing my first pair of French frames with the lenses just slotted in. Brilliant service. Mike is slightly poorer, having gallantly offered to pay for the replacement!!