Monday, 17 September 2012

Detox over.

Right, we're half way through September and everyday life is, sadly, starting to poison my existence, again. I spent ten weeks in northern Bavaria without turning the TV on once and only listening to classical musiuc on the radio. I almost managed to keep it going until I got back to France on August 28th, but flirted with French talk radio between Valence and Toulouse that day. When I left Germany, I had a smooth, relaxed complexion. Within twenty-four hours of arriving in France I had crows' feet and bags under my eyes you could carry the shopping home in. I'm blaming no-one for this except myself, I'm not a victim and certainly don't subscribe to that mentality but still haven't quite managed to continue to surf nirvana whilst going about my everyday tasks of breadwinning, being a good father to the Fingernails and lusting after Mrs. F's exceptional body.

Unless I tap into The Eternal Truth, this state of affairs will continue until April, when I go back to Santiago de Chile and revel in the glory of my circumstances over there. Then it's back to France for a couple of weeks before heading back off to Franconia and Wagnerland for three months.

All this begs the question: How can you continue to live when all you do is run away? Yup, it's a damned good question, and one which Mrs. F and I are currently working on. We'll be putting our place on the market in the next couple of weeks or so. There's a good reason for this: we want to live somewhere else. OK, sounds simplistic, and it is. We want to trade our 80 sqm without any balcony, charm, greenery etc for something better. Seeing as we're in a coverted neighbourhood that shouldn't be too tricky, but you never know. With two medium-sized children (fuck, and I'd got used to writing 'small') we need a bit of greenery and a bit more room to get away from them for a little while. They'll appreciate it, too; I don't think they like us that much anymore, anyway.

I don't want to get back onto my old warhorse, that French urban planning ranks alongside 'Taliban Democracy' as one of the most redundant phrases every conceived in a language recognisable as English, but that's the truth of the matter. I don't ask for sympathy (wouldn't get any, anyway), just for any info you may have regarding public transport and schools in our area. Just in case there's something I've missed.

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