My new best friend

I've been spending a lot of time with the plumber lately, as he chases the source of a big wet spot in the garage. He and I are about to conclude that it's just water oozing up though a weak or thin spot in the concrete slab. We're actually below the water level of the canal, and you can't walk in our yard without wellies until about May. You may remember the first lawn mowing last year.

The slogan on the side of the plumber's van says, complete with Belgian accent, "Who's there? It's the plumber." Only it rhymes in French. If you're not interested in a brief linguistic discourse, stop reading now.

"Qui c'est?" is the Belgicism. The French would say, "Qui est-ce? meaning "Who is it?" The Belgian is more like "Who's that?" And l'plombier, rather than the complete and written (in both Belgium and France) le plombier, is how it's actually pronounced--in both Belgium and France. So the rhyme sounds like ki say? say luh plohmbee-ay. Hilarious, n'est-ce pas?

And then there were four

Those of you who have been here know that our neighbors have goats. David, being the country boy he is, realized that the black goat is a female and the spotted one a male.

We hadn't seen the goats for a few weeks and hoped that didn't bode ill for the animals. Those of you who have been here know why we were concerned. But a couple weeks ago we walked by and noticed the two new additions. They are about the cutest thing ever and are very attached to Momma. Yesterday Momma and Papa came running over to the fence - accompanied by the babies - and I even got to pet Papa.

More like it

Now this is the way to do a steeple. It's ours here in Hautrage. It's nice and straight, unlike that raggedy butt ol' thing built by those…those…crooked-steeple builders in Pommerœul. Although it has its uses. Rachel and Stephan navigated their way home from a bike ride using the crooked steeple as a reference point.

I wrote the paragraph above months ago but for some reason never got around to posting it. It probably just dropped below the horizon of the computer screen, at which point things cease to exist in the 21st century. I was reminded to come back to it when Rita saw a notice in one of our community newspapers for a nature walk (a little boost for the authentic voice of the people for you there, Marge). The walk was to begin in Pommerœul at the clocher penché--the leaning steeple. Obviously we aren't the only ones to have noticed. I figure we don't even need to go to Pisa. We've got the leaning tower of Pommerœul

There IS a difference

Ever since we got here I've been telling people that Belgian chocolate is so superior to US chocolate that you can't distinguish between good Belgian chocolate and bad Belgian chocolate. I've discovered that's not true.

We spent Valentine's Day weekend in Bruges, where there is a chocolatier on every corner and some in between too. Several of them were advertising a kilo of chocolate for from 12 to 15 euros. We thought, "Wow, what a deal!" So we bought some of the sale chocolate - but fortunately not a kilo of it! It's not that it's bad; it's just...well, tasteless. It's missing that rich, dark chocolaty taste and rich full butterfat sensation that give dark chocolate its mood-enhancing qualities. 

It being Valentine's Day and all, we (ok, I) needed some REAL chocolate. So we went to the Leonidas and bought another box. Heaven.

 

Action on the canal

No mules, but barges still somehow get where they're going. I think it has to do with steam.

How much s*** can one farm take?

Several weeks ago we drove to work behind a tractor towing a load of manure. When we finally had a chance to get around, we noticed another load a few hundred meters farther down the road. And we met several empties coming towards us. Obviously someone was hauling a lot of…fertilizer to a field somewhere. The French word for dungheap is fumier. Driving along behind this guy you could see why: the steam coming off it looked like smoke, or in French, fumée.

We long ago noticed a difference between farm equipment on the road where we come from and farm equipment on the road here. I'm use to tractors on the road, but in the US a farmer gets on the road for a few hundred yards, a mile maybe. Here, you get behind a tractor, he may be driving 20 km away. I guess it's the way land has been subdivided over the years here. One farmer seems to have itty bitty parcels scattered all over the countryside.

$$$$...errr, I mean €€€€

In Europe Nissan sells a sport ute called the Qasqai. To me that sounds a lot like "cash cow." Maybe it does to Nissan too.