Okay. Here’s a test. What word best describes the Cote d’Azur for the moment? Sunny? Nope, wrong. It’s Drooping. Unbelievably May continues with its unsettled weather and rain, more rain and rain again is our constant companion. Mind you, to be fair there are variations: light showers, torrential downpours and whiz bang thundery rain. What we don’t get, ever, is drizzle. When it rains here - it rains.

And so, for the moment, everything is drooping from the weight of this constant and prolonged rain. Plants, flowers, grass, even us human beings. It is as if the sorrow of this weather has affected everyone on the French Riviera. Nothing can beat swinging open French wooden shutters to the blaze of a hot Mediterranean sun in the morning. It just makes the day. Now, shutters open and its drooping shoulders all round.

The good side is that it makes me want to stay indoors and curl up with a good book. While I continue to enjoy Mary Blume’s ‘Cote d’Azur: Inventing the French Riviera’, three new books have landed on my desk. The first one is MFK Fisher’s ‘Two Towns In Provence’, the second is Patrick Howarth’s ‘When The Riviera Was Ours’, and the last one is Maureen Emerson’s forthcoming book ‘Escape to Provence’. Rather naughtily I have delved into all three and I must say that they all look really enticing.

Oddly enough, you’d think by now I’d be reading French books rather than English ones. While I can read and understand French perfectly, I simply can’t immerse myself as totally as I can when reading in my own language. I’ve even tried a number of ways to do so and found one that seemed to work. I first buy the English book and then its French translation (or French book with English translation). I read the English book first so that I know what the story line is and create all the necessary images in my head. I then read the French version underlining any new words I’ve not seen before. Sadly, this method takes forever as I look up any unknown French words while this ’stop-start’ tends to make me forget the story’s thread.

Mind you, though I may prefer to read in English - I do count in French in my head and even sometimes dream in French too. Go figure.

Having said that, it’s therefore an interesting fact to see that a friend’s daughter of ours, Sarah and now aged 15, is still perfectly bi-lingual, even after leaving France and living in the UK for the past five years. She is presently staying with us and making a sentimental visit to see all her ex-school friends this week. When she speaks English there is absolutely no denying she’s English. And yet, as soon as she flips into French - you would swear she’s French. This is an absolute gift. My brother, who lived in France for nigh on twenty years, spoke French with a dreadful English accent you could cut with a knife. My belief is that you need to start learning French as a toddler (as was Sarah’s case) and, more importantly, live in France and enter its school system as early as possible. Sadly, most kids balk at the idea (as I did back in the misty days of my youth).

Yet, more importantly still, is to make the effort to speak French while living here. It is without doubt a beautiful language and gentle on the ears. And while I may not have a ‘penchant’ for reading French, I do enjoy everything else this beautiful country has to offer. Vive La France - even on miserable dark rainy days!

Last year I wrote how Freddy and Archie delighted in spending hours munching their way through the ripened grapes growing over our pool house. Well, this year Archie’s already in his element with the cherry tree in our front garden. His tactic is a simple one: jump. And it’s not just cherries he’s after either. He and Freddy (aided and abetted by Maggie May) have had a grand time pinching all the strawberries too. Just for fun I decided to grow some strawberry plants out by the office terrace. However, no sooner had the juicy fruit turned red than three hairy monsters gobbled them up, returning to the office smacking their lips in delight. I have since moved the pots out of reach in the hope that Nigel and I manage to eat one strawberry before the birds get them.

Actually, on the subject of gardens, you may like to know that France is to hold it’s national Gardens to Visit (mine is not on the list) next week which you may like to note in your diary. Entitled Rendez-vous aux Jardins, it takes place on Friday 30th, Saturday 31st and Sunday 1st June. This is a wonderful opportunity to visit some gardens not normally open to the public. Culture France has set up a special website with a programme showing all the gardens available to visit throughout France. Though the site is in French it’s easy to navigate as you can choose a particular department or theme which then gives you a long list of gardens. The link here takes you directly there.

Talking of weekends, this was also to be the weekend that Nigel and I were to drive over the the Aquitaine for a spot of house hunting. After much discussion we both decided to give ourselves another year or two before moving. What changed our minds? It’s difficult to say but I felt a keen sense of loss and knew I’d regret leaving. For one thing there are still so many more discoveries to be made and articles to be written for AMB Cote d’Azur. Secondly, this land has become my home and I love its culture, people and quirky ways.

And besides, Archie would miss the fun of nicking all my fruit . . .

It’s been a while since I showed you the progress made by the Milky Bar kids. These past ten days has seen a marked difference and suddenly, Maman Fleur has time on her paws to enjoy the company of our other adult cats while her little ones explore their new world. Since I last blogged about them, they are now bombing around, climbing, running and chasing one another. They have discovered ping pong balls, and toy mice. The litter tray was introduced and immediately understood. They are also enjoying baby food and cat milk rather than draining their mother dry. Their bowl of water affords them endless fascination as they dip their paws in, creating little waves and much mess.

This has been an incredible journey for us humans too as we watch (and learn) the inter-play between Maman Fleur and her little ones, the different calls she makes to them when it’s time for their feed, teaching them how to kill a toy mouse or when she returns from being away from them. So far we’ve managed to name Little Fleurette, but the ginger boys are proving difficult. At one point I nearly called them Tom, Dick and Harry but it didn’t seem quite right. Nigel is keen to call at least one of the boys Ginger, but I’m somewhat hesitant. I’m sure you’ll remember last year he wanted to call Fleur’s brother Yoda (’cos he had rather big ears) when we adopted them. Yoda is now sensibly called Graham.

Least you think that my time revolves solely around these little furry balls and my computer, I must tell you that I do, occasionally, join the adult world. Such was the case when I attended a workshop entitled ‘How To Get Ahead In Publishing ‘ this morning in Valbonne. The presenter was a super lady called Marie Clayton who gave an excellent insight into the book publishing world. She is to give three more workshops which should empower us all to become authors. It is true that I write but I don’t feel I am an author. And while at times I can find it frustrating to face a blank screen and wonder how it is possible for my inspiration to suddenly deflate, I am writing short non-fiction articles on a subject that is easily researched. But to write a book and keep all the threads going - now that I am in awe of.