I gave up on road rage when I had the kids, to be fair I gave up on most things when I had the kids, but that’s another story……

Ok, so the lights have literally just turned green. I have been watching and I know that green means go. I am, however, unable to predict the precise second that this will occur, and hence be ahead of the lights, and be gone before they are green. I am bibbed, as I seem to be roughly 5 times a day in France, as if to remind me that green means go, when 15 years on the roads means that I have, in fact, got this, I have this one covered. "Yes, you w*nker, I KNOOOOW” check self for 2 reasons: 1) use of vulgar language in front of kids (again, not surprising I have a 4 year old with bad language problems….!) and 2) road rage/unresolved anger management-related issues. I gave up on road rage when I had the kids, to be fair I gave up on most things when I had the kids, but that’s another story……I decided that after observing my only son, Monty Buster (now 7), wide eyed and terrified in the baby car seat after witnessing his usually, or sometimes (!) gentle mother, yelling with gay abandon a stream of rude words and gesticulating, as only the French normally can, at, admittedly some idiot who had done something inappropriate on the roads, but to be fair who probably did not warrant the abuse he got through the windscreen. Although my voice was obviously muted by the windscreen, I have no doubt the poor s*d got the gist! Anyway, deciding from that moment that this behaviour was entirely inappropriate to be demonstrating to kids, I am now road rage free, and hope to stay this way. There are occasions when I am pushed to my limits by French drivers, but generally I am calm as a cucumber these days…..!

The French feel indicating is a useless activity, and they decide to not bother with their little orange lights that aid others on the roads in discerning their intentions. I do not know if the French have some kind of mutual understanding, or a secret wink, but to my mind it is ludicrous and highly dangerous to not use your indicators. Around roundabouts people gaily float off in the direction they choose to follow regardless of me, for example, who has to sit in the lane guessing at their intentions, wondering whether to chance it, or risk the shame of staying put and being bibbed at non stop till finally you have to rev, rev, rev and take the plunge. It is as though you take your life in your hands and inside prepare yourself mentally to, on a count of 3 sometimes, just GO! GO! GO!......To date, we have all survived, I am pleased to say, but when there are 5 roundabouts in the 5 minute school trip I do 4 times a day, it means I encounter one roundabout every minute, and by the time I reach school I am a nervous wreck. (Not just caused by motherhood of 4 lil kids!!).

As I sit writing this, I have a bowl of flour, yeast and water between my legs, no not some herbal/natural pregnancy prevention (I do believe my husband, Alex, when he tells me he will leave if I go on any more about having the 5th…..!), rather the mixture for bread is having to be hand mixed, as I have no electric mixer. Everyday I spend a lot of my time mixing and kneading bread dough…..it is time to get myself an electric mixer me thinks……