Sunday, January 10, 2010

Dashing through the snow Banque

R.I.B. (relève d’identité bancaire) ;

So we get to the Bank at 10:00 sharp for our appointment and are shown into the office where we will fill out all the paperwork. The woman’s English is minimal but she is so helpful that as we fill out the required forms and give them to her, it seems as though we might make it through. I was already for the worst, sniggling little details that no rational person could foresee, which counted me out right away. So Cindy and I are sitting there looking as though we always sit around looking at each other for ten minutes at a time with out saying anything. She was fine with it; me not so much for in the hour and a half we were there, I couldn’t put anyone down. Not that I didn’t have the opportunity. There were customers walking into the bank every now and then, and boy did some of them deserve a comment. There was this one parent that walked in with a loud looking kid. Boy did I want to say something, anything just to keep in practice. Well anyway, the lady is printing out reams of paper for us to review and stacking it in very neat piles and I am expecting her to say, “O.K. let’s get most of these filled out then we can arrange for you to come back and correct everything.” But she didn’t and everything went along seamlessly. I felt as though I had to apologize for my earlier diatribe about making the required appointment. After everything was filled out, oddly enough, they preferred my signature over that of the more responsible one in our group. she then puts all our copies in a nice blue dossier. The credit card and cheque book will be here for us in five days, and the P.I.N. will be sent to our residence. Most importantly, she gives us three copies of our own R.I.B., which will allow us to buy cell phones, cars, houses, and divorce attorneys for even mentioning cars or houses. We leave feeling like Chamberlain waving a piece of paper in the air.
Two days later, the snow hits, the temperature drops, and the snow falls again. Weeeeee! We look outside and think, wow it’s like a Walt Disney movie for our family. Well, it sort of is. Have you ever noticed how all their movies revolve around a dysfunctional family? Think about it,,,,. Cinderella; yeah that’s an easy one: step-mother, no dad, bad sisters, child labor., etc. O.K. Snow White…step-mother, seven male dwarfs in a small house, talks to animals….Sleeping Beauty. Locked in a tower, all her friends are gone after sleeping for a long time, castle grown over with vines, kissed while she sleeping by a stalker,,,,. And my favorite musical, Dead Man Walking. What do you mean it wasn’t Disney? Probably not glum enough.
So as its snowing, we decide that we need to go to the store and get more provisions. The driving isn’t bad although there are a few cars off the road. To my surprise we see a Land Rover Discovery off in the ditch, a very deep, deep ditch. One could walk across the road, step onto the driver’s window and walk flat across to the other side of the ditch. Caleigh and her friend are enjoying the drive. I’m driving really slow because if you go even a little faster than cohesion, someone else can walk across your car in a ditch. Don’t want that, now do we, in a rental car. I can’t even imagine how to describe where in the town my car is, or even try to explain that my wheels are now parallel to the road. By Sunday morning we are thinking that Caleigh’s friend may be with us another day, which is absolutely fine with us. The snow is now packed on the road and with a full night of freezing weather and ought to be real fun and slick. The interesting part of this weather is tomorrow I drive the carpool, ie; pick up three other children and make our way across this artic Dordogne landscape to the hill town of Soumensac. I’m not sure if you picked up on the hill town aspect of the drive, what goes up must slide down. Well I guess at that point the children would have been dropped off at the bus drop, and I would be on my own for the drive down Soumensac.
WEEEeeeeee! Thud. “Gee mister, nice ditch. Lets see the toll free roadside number……….dialing in the background. “Bon jour, mon voiture’ eh an ditch,…………… oui je sui Americane, ……….Oui, un ditch.………..Non, ditch…Day, ah, tee, see, eeh. ………( thinking to myself; what sounds like ditch, and why is he sounding so pissed?)…allo,……..allo………..ah Merde’”.


  1. I trust that included in those reams of paper you signed at the bank was your liability policy pertaining to carting around France's next generation of children. I would hate to think about you giving English lessons in a roadside ditch. Good luck Monday morning and remember to always steer away from the

  2. oh, and by the way. Your Patriots are now down