FIRST THOUGHTS TO REFLEKTOR ON

I have to state that I am a massive fan of everything James Murphy. His produced work, his musical talent and his hugely successful LCD Soundsystem. I was devastated to hear the news that they were to split up. But I had been luckily enough to see them live on several occasions, touring worldwide with the ever popular Arcade Fire.

When the news came through that Murphy would be producing the new Arcade Fire album I had no doubts that it was going to be great. Come the hour and I have now got hold of the album. All shrink wrapped and shiny.

When the single ‘Reflektor’ was released on the 9th day of the 9th month at 9pm I was as excited as a pig at home. When the first few bars hit my ears I have to say my first reaction was disappointment. It wasn’t the Arcade Fire I knew and loved. But then again, when their second album, ‘Neon Bible’, and third Album ‘The Suburbs’ was released I then too, had a new introduction to my favourite band.

So why did I instantly feel frightened when I heard the opening of ‘Reflektor’ on that special day? Knowing ‘Reflektor’ the album was being produced by someone whose own last album had an average song length of seven minutes, I knew it couldn’t be a song that burst into theme like that of ‘The Suburbs’. ‘Reflektor’ the single, builds into what is Arcade Fire, it doesn’t jump at you like their earlier singles. This dances its way into your senses, sways into your subconscious dragging you with it.

I was scared to listen to those two brand new vinyls and not hear who I wanted on the other end. Like calling your wife and hearing a mans voice. No one wants those unnessaccary upsets. I gave in and listened to the whole of ‘Reflektor’ and danced with a smile on my face untill the very end.

The whole album is the same as it’s title track. Catchy layers that build into an orchestral masterpiece that is hard to put down. Both discs are as fantastic as their partner, it is tough to choose which to play, my favourite song changing everyday.

So after to listening to the album I have to send a massive thank you to both parties, James Murphy for keeping LCD Soundsystem alive through the medium of ‘Reflektor’ and to Arcade Fire themselves for yet again offering the world something to listen to, dance with and reflect on.

 

xx

MOLESKIN SCRIBBLES

Before I confine my latest travelling moleskin to the back of a deep drawer, I thought you might be interested in what was inside it. Tell me if I’m wrong!

The sun it rises and west it goes
The wind it blows and blows and blows
The rain it falls and feeds the ground
The grass it grows and grows and grows
The waves they crash and crush the coast
The moon it glows and glows and glows

_______________________________________

As I stop and listen I hear a bird, a cry
The ocean laughter and the sand at my feet
The wind on my cheek, the heat on my back
I can taste the air, a bbq far away
The salt on my lips and the stares I attract
I hold my white stick and I’m gone

______________________________________

The clouds aren’t even moving
There’s no wind in the sky
Just sat there motionless
As I stare with my eye.

The sun turns them pink
The silver lining shining
A childs drawn rain house
Looking down and smiling

______________________________________

Trial and error till the size fits
Feel the terror of my two fists
Sports and punching inside the ring
Play to the bell wait for the ding

______________________________________

Shop shop get it quick
3 days left burn the wick
Quicker quicker run to the till
Christmas time over the hill
Toys toys for little boys
Shrills and frills for little girls

______________________________________

I never knew your name as we played your silly game
Running down the lane with a bucket full of rain
Playing our silly game we ran down the lane
With a bucket full of rain you whisper to me your name
Running down the lane with a bucket full of rain
I remembered your name playing that silly game
With a bucket full of rain I shouted out your name
Playing a silly game walking down our lane.

That’ll do for now. Enjoy. xx

QUOTE UNQUOTE

COULD ONE

HANG AROUND

BEFORE THE

INVENTION OF

THE WHEEL?

AT LAST SOMEONE RECOGNISES OUR GREED

We are constantly reading about global warming and fed numbers that sound like a London bankers bonus. Numbers that most of us just see as big!

But a study has emerged warning that Chinas’ major cities are outsourcing their CO2 emissions to the poorer reigons, bare in mind we have been outsourcing our pollution to China for decades.

In the past, reports linking global warming with China, have thrown figures around like “2 billion tonnes of coal”, “one third of the worlds CO2 emissions” and we are expected to look at China as a power hungry, dirty, problematic country that needs to be resolved.

China today—like the other fast-growing mega-nations, especially India—is obsessed with growth. Slowing it down seems impossible. Fueling that growth requires evermore burning of dirty fossil fuels, which turn skies into haze and light rivers on fire.

This new study is suggesting, it is up to us as buyers of everything Chinesse that needs to change if China is to change it’s current trend of CO2 emmisons.

The abundance of cheap produce from China has led to a “throwaway culture”, said Dabo Guan from the University of Leeds, UK, who worked on the paper.

We as the consumer have the power over China, not politicans or even themselves, to see change and reduce omissions in CO2 and world behaviour.

BLOW YOUR OWN TRUMPET

In the world of publishing and self-promotion, every one needs a break. I gave myself just that and entered my first book ‘The Waiting Room’ into the Self Published book awards hosted by Chapter One Promotions. Along with sending the books, you are required to add a self addressed postcard to be returned on receipt of your books being delivered. I did just that and rather cheeky too, here is mine:

IF IT’S GOOD ENOUGH FOR ROYALTY

Working as a seasonnaire, with the snow capped mountains as your play ground; it is easy to lose respect for the countless peaks and valleys that we call home.

February half term is one of the busiest times on the piste, as schools close across Europe, families escape to the fresh mountain air for their annual migration to the slopes.

As this is the case, we picked up snow shoes and hiked away from the crowds. As Duchess Kate Middleton was pictured walking in the Alps earlier this year, if it’s good enough for Royalty, then it’s good enough for us to escape the queues, explore the local mountains and regain the respect that the mountains deserve.

Our first hike took us to the lost village of Monal high upon the mountains. The only path in the summer is a cart track that ends 500 metres from the village centre. The path in the winter is a one and a half hour hike from the valley below. The hamlet has similar status of ‘World Heritage’ and is a world away from Après Ski. The whole scene exemplifies the hardship of winter and portrays the mountains as truly unpredictable, as not 200 metres from the village centre an avalanche has slipped, this time without consequence, but as a reminder the mountains are in control.

Our second walk took us to the bottom of the Tignes dam. With an access road to the ski resort of Tignes planted on top of the dam, it somehow loses its mystical power. A walk along the narrow valley below shows again the might of the mountains. Man’s intervention may hold back countless cubic metres of water, but nature herself shows us who has the power on this short walk. With the fresh snow dotted with rocks the size of paving slabs the walk is intimidating at best. As the melting snow creeps into every crevasse and freezes, breaking apart not only the cliffs above but also the access road underneath our feet, every step has to be well thought out. The stunning ice falls, attacked by the warming weather, are a danger that creak and crack in the afternoon sun.

A safe return from both walks brings a revised view of our surroundings. Something that was easily lost by taking the Gondola and ski lifts every day.

MOTHER AWAY FROM MOTHER

Meet the second half of our employers, Eliza.

It isn’t easy to write about Eliza in the same way as it is her husband and illusive business partner Johnny. I shall start at the beginning.

After applying for this job we found on the website Gumtree, in early October last year, a phone interview was conducted with matter of fact details of the position and what we could expect to find here at Chalet Eterlou. We were offered the job the next day and made plans to arrive in Tignes les Brevieres late in November.

Upon arrival we met Johnny and oldest son Alex who quickly informed us that they were in ‘Party’ mode as ‘The Boss’ Eliza would not be in resort for another month. We had come early to the Chalet to do some minor repairs and after surveying we asked Johnny for a few extra supplies, three weeks later we had the required materials but not quiet the completed list.

In these three weeks, as we got acquainted with our new home, we were told stories from all perspectives about our new Boss. Some scary tales from people who had fallen on the wrong side, but most from people full of admiration, not only in running two businesses, but also for putting up with, and looking after husband Johnny. Somehow we had developed this fear and anxiety. Words had been branded around: scary, straight, not one to cross but also respectful, honest, even and fair.

Upon meeting ‘The Boss’ Eliza, all of our fear quickly disappeared. A smile on her face was warm, welcoming and approachable. We talked about a few things still needed to finish some repairs and an hour later we had the shopping list in full. We quickly learned not only who ran the business side of the business, but who ran the whole business.

That  evening I dropped a glass at the diner table and thought my time was over. Shaking in the kitchen after the meal Eliza approached us and thanked us for the meal and our efforts. Something we would hear time and time again as Eliza would often venture down to the chalet to see returning friends and regale tales as if they had seen each other yesterday. Such is the ease of her persona.

Upon entering the chalet ‘The Boss’ would venture straight to the kitchen, her first thought would be to make sure her staff were happy and needed for nothing. If everything was in order, a glass of Apremont would be required and only then would she focus on the paying guests.

Such was her commitment to the staff that Eliza was our tour guide around the area, not only on skis but away from the crowds on snow shoes. These snow shoeing trips were Eliza’s personal time away from everything, alone with Poppy and Bella, two black Labradors, her dogs that she cares for more than anything.

Knowing that Eliza would be leaving before the season ended, we all went out for a meal to celebrate surviving our time together. Upon leaving the restaurant Johnny walked towards the bar opposite with a smile on his face. Almost across the road his path was blocked by a car he knew well. The window opened and an instruction calmly spoken: “Get in the car, Johnny.” With this Johnny’s smile grew and he did what he was told. Something he won’t have to do once ‘The Boss’ leaves and ‘Party Time’ starts again.

We will be sad to see Poppy and Bella go, but even sadder when our stand in mother leaves us in Johnny’s care. Safe journey to Scotland Boss.

THE LESSER SPOTTED SKIER

Emerging tired and grumpy from his hibernating hire car the lesser spotted skier reaches for the sky with both hands, stretching and cracking his back he yawns and scratches his belly before turning to his uncontrollable screaming infants.

Carrying more luggage than he packed, loaded with ski gear and with an arm outstretched the lesser spotted skier has learnt not to argue after emerging from his den.

Greeted by those providing for his family for his annual expedition to the slopes leaves the lesser spotted skier exhausted but thankful.

On the first morning he rouses his family, gathering at the eating table at an early 8am. Keen to be out on the snow before the hordes he holds his tribe personally responsible if he isn’t on the first chairlift that morning. The scene makes for some eventful watching. Boots of all sizes are forced onto tiny feet and coats, hats and gloves, some too big, some too small are fitted onto their loose limbs and sent to the front of the queue, most of the time without a visit to their bathroom.

He then leads his pack down slopes and back up again in search of lost phones, cameras and ski poles. But the lesser spotted skier won’t be baffled and easily off loads this accusation of not closing his pockets by suggesting that perhaps it was undone because he was leading his family to get lift passes, was carrying 8 ski poles and four pairs of skis. The lesser spotted skier is quick to pass the blame to the youngest member who involuntarily bursts into tears and is treated with care by the mother.

The Lesser Spotted Skier evades the camera.

On returning to their rental layer that night an argument is spared with the flow of free chalet wine. The lesser spotted skier is let off by the female of the group for slapping the ass of his host because the female is absorbed with her smart phone and complains loudly and continually that the internet doesn’t work. After several more bottles the adults of the group sluggishly retire to their room, fatigued and with a promise of being at breakfast at 8am, they bid a goodnight.

Day by day the group emerge later and later for their first meal of the day, finally arriving at 8:58, they apologetically request the house special whilst running around sorting clothes and skis. A tired and exhausted mother does the final dressing of the cubs as the lesser spotted skier shows no sign of helping.

Without ski school on the final day, the lesser spotted skier knows he will have to wait for his cubs to gingerly make their way down runs he insists upon choosing. A black run never looks so satisfying to the lesser spotted skier than when he is watching his cubs emerge in floods of tears at the foot of the mountain.

The last day of his annual migration towards the snow shows signs of cracks in an otherwise seem less relationship with his pack. Knowing his future hours will be packing, loading, repacking and reloading of his family’s bags, he sits restful with his well earned beverage.

Finally packed with clothes, skis and children the annual migration expires in silence as the lesser spotted skier reverses into a snow marker on his way to the mechanical bird. Ready for a conversation with lines like, let me drive, never again, your fault, soaked to the bone and I want a divorce the lesser spotted skier realises the potential of not being so lesser spotted.

WHAT DOGS DO YOU HAVE?

Meet Johnny. Half of our employers here in Tignes les Breveriers.

After a day of skiing, cooking for and entertaining the guests, our evenings end with a dog hunt.

Johnny leaves the Chalet for the walk home with two dogs on two leads. We sit by our open fire awaiting the phone call that will inform us of which dog has been lost.

‘Poppy’ the elder one will make her way either home, or back to the chalet, depending on what part of her short journey she was let free. Or ‘Bella’ the puppy black lab that goes straight for the sausage stall that is a permanent fixture at the base of the slopes.

Depending on the dog, depends on how many of us go in search. If it’s Poppy, there is less demand as she is more capable of getting herself home than her walker. If it’s Bella then we go out en mass to make sure she isn’t run over by the sliding British motorists who think, because a few flakes fell in the UK, they have experience of driving in snow.

Johnny was entrusted to walk the dogs to the Chalet last week, and in doing so he lost Poppy en route. When instructed to go out and find her, he returned triumphant holding her lead up high, I’ve found her he beamed, and in the process he lost Bella.

When Johnny was talking fondly of his dogs to one guest recently, he was asked “What dogs do you have?”

“Black ones” he replied!

DINNER TABLE BEAR JOKES

This week at our Chalet we have a wonderful story teller in the guise of Father Christmas, name of Gilly.

He has already told us many stories with his big white beard as the centre piece, and the one we remember the most, is the story of how he sat opposite a drunk Welsh man in a pub. This drunk Welshmen was staring at our Father Christmas, luring him closer with drunken eyes. As the pair got within kissing distance, this Welshmen declares

“Three years I asked for a scalextric and you never bought me one”

Along with many other stories he came out with were jokes about bears. I have written two of them for your pleasure.

A hunter quietly rises from behind a bush, a bear in his sight. He stands there, waiting for the bear to come closer and then BANG, he fires off a single round. The bear falls flat on the ground. THUD.

Our hunter rushes over to the bear, about to reach down and touch his furry coat, when the bear leaps to life. “You’re an awful shot” he says. “Instead of eating you, I’ll give you one more chance to shoot me tomorrow, but if I let you go now, I’ll have to shag you first. Women bears are scarce in these parts” Fearing for his life our Hunter lets this happen.

The next day comes and our hunter is a little sore. Perched again behind the bush he waits for his bear to show himself. Sure enough, out comes the bear, sniffing the ground as he had done the day before. Our brave hunter gets up, steadies himself and BANG, a single shot. The Bear falls flat on the ground once more. THUD.

This time our hunter is a little more cautious, walking gingerly up to the bear he prods the furry coat. Again the Bear jumps up, “Oh it’s you again” he says to our startled hunter. “Tell you what, I’ll give you one more chance tomorrow, but like yesterday, I’m going to have to shag you first. Women Bears are scarce in these parts” Our Hunter bends over with rage, tomorrow he’ll get his pray.

On day three, our hunter in pain, can’t crouch down behind his bush, instead he leans against the nearest tree. Studying the area from the previous days, sure to get his tormentor. He hears the bushes part and, a little closer than yesterday the bear is there, ready to be hit. The hunter calms himself, he takes his time steadying his rifle then BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG. The Bear falls flat on the ground, surely for the final time. THUD.

Approaching the Bear, our hunter is smiling ear to ear, keen to get his hands on his trophy. As soon as he is close enough the Bear once more jumps to his feet. Seeing that it’s the hunter from the past few days the bear remarks:

“You’re not here for the shooting are you?”

After we recovered from this one I swapped my bear joke with the assembled table.

A man wakes up to find a bear on his roof. Calling the AAA bear removal he is assured that someone will be with him in half an hour. Sure enough a man pulls up outside his house in a big white van. Opening the rear doors he produces a ladder, shot gun, baseball bat and pitbull terrier.

Looking confused the house owner asks what the plan is. “With the ladder I’ll climb on the roof” replied the bear remover. He continues “I’ll use the baseball bat to knock the bear from the roof, the pitbull terrier has been trained to grab the bear by the balls” With this he hands the shotgun to the house owner. Again confused he asks, “what do I need this for?”

“If the bear knocks me off the roof, shoot the dog!”