3rd September 2005
Direct flights from Dublin to Geneva by Aer Lingus means that it is easy to visit the relations in Haute Savoie. This is nice for us and nice for them we keep assuring them. They have only been there for eight months but are already well aware that Haute Savoie is a tourist destination all year round, what with skiing, snow-boarding, etc. in the winter and walking, sight-seeing in the summer and eating delicious food all the time. They have a spare bedroom so what could be better for us, whatever about them?
I was having a pre-dinner stroll with my hostess when she asked me to take care of the holes on the lawn. What holes they were, and made by moles! They made the lawn into a veritable Emmental cheese. I’d never seen such industrious quarrying by these little velvet coated fellows and when asked what could be done about stopping their activities I was useless.
Well, help was at hand in the shape of the La Poste calendar distributed locally. There on the page for Août was a section, en Francais naturally, on how to deal with moles in the jardin. Here it is, Août, les Taupes (moles) my hostess knew this having been troubled by them sous la pelouse.
Now we had no dictionary with us and the next sentence went as follows, “Alors glisser dans leurs galleries des boules de naphtaline ou des chiffons imbibés de créosote”. Dear heaven, isn’t it dreadful what the French will do to their wildlife? Sliding balls of naphtal down the holes or rags impregnated with creosote seemed pretty drastic. While the words “feu” or “allumettes” were not mentioned it looks all too likely that fire is involved to get the poor creatures to move on.
The next suggestion on how to get rid of them was less ferocious. It involved putting an empty plastic bottle on a long narrow metal spike and sticking this in the ground. “Le vent produit des vibrations que les taupes n’apprécient pas”. I particularly like the fact that the moles will not “appreciate” the vibrations. It was not mentioned, one notes, how they felt about the first ferocious cure.
We couldn’t translate the last cure but here it is anyway “Ceci étant, il faut savoir utiliser les monticules de terre pour le terrautage de votre gazon” just in case the first two don’t work and your French is better than mine.
We expect little from An Post except that they deliver our letters and have a post office within a day’s drive but La Poste is right in the home helping in so many ways. On the Août page (and all the others) there was the date and the days of the week and beside each a name and number. For example,
| DIM 1 | 214-152 | Alphouse |
| LUN 2 | 215-151 | Julien |
| MAR 3 | 216-150 | Lydie |
And so on down to MAR 31 244-122 Aristide. We figured out what the numbers were about and “Vierge 22 Aout to 21 Septembre” at the top of the page was easy. But what about the names? Surely not French saints? There was a space beside each date where one could write in a note and the phases of the moon were clearly marked.
| Full Moon | LUN 30 | (243-123 Fiacre) |
| Half Moon | SAM 7 | (220-146 Gaetan) |
And LUN 23 (236-130 Rose) and no moon at all on LUN 16 (229-137 Armel).
I was given the page of the calendar even though Août wasn’t over to try to work this conundrum out but no success to date.
Nor did I need the next piece of advice “Voyage des jupes”. Yes, three tips on how to travel with skirts. I will be brief although the advice was detailed. If one has no iron for repleating (defroisser) one’s skirt, hang it in a steamy place. (My hostess said this was useless, she had tried it).
Next, to carry a pleated skirt in a case, roll it lengthwise and slide it down the sleeve of a shirt. Put it at the side of the case (La poser au bord de la valise) - the French was much simpler here than the mole section.
Finally we were implored to always put our skirts lengthwise in cases because if one puts them otherwise there will be creases and the French nation will be in an even worse mess than it is everywhere there except Haute Savoie.
I will refrain from rewriting the recipe of the month because the first ingredient for this Terrine de Liévre (preparation 40 min pour 6 á 8 personnes) was 1.5kg de cuisses de liévre and seeing that poor hares are legs only when one thinks about it I felt too many hares morts would be needed, again showing the disregard the French have for our furry friends.
Now we are extremely nice to our furry friends but when it comes to humans the French win hands (or mains) down. Our host had woken one morning with a painful knee a few weeks before we arrived. Down to the local hospital “Urgence” where he was seen quite briskly, as the name implies, not like our A and E departments. His knee was examined, x-rayed and blood was taken. He was given advice, crutches and an appointment with a specialist in two weeks, yes, two weeks, analgesics, anti-inflammatory tablets and so forth, and a phone number to call if it didn’t settle down in a few days. It did, and he brought back his crutches to the specialist in two weeks. To annoy those of us in other health jurisdictions there was no charge.
Yes, I know the French pay huge PRSI or whatever they call it but their health system does seem to care for humans. I’ll just have to accept their attitude to wildlife and think how delicious that hare terrine would be for supper. I haven’t the strength to get after An Post about a calendar like La Poste’s one.
Senator Mary Henry, MD
