Posted by / Category London /

I sometimes think of our flat in Paris. It is not that I miss it, it is just that it was awfully quiet. Compared to our house in London, that is.

The problem with my house in London is that there is always something beeping. Mind you, I am sure that it helps my cerebral activity, because I have to react fast. When I hear yet another beep, I have to think about what it might be. Because otherwise, it might get worse. Much worse.

If it is the oven, it means that it is now pre-heated. I can ignore it, it won’t happen again. Lucky escape. If it is the microwave (yes, despite being French I use a microwave), it means that I need to get the food out of it right away otherwise it is going to beep again thirty seconds later. And again. And again.

If it is the dishwasher, I have to press the on/off button, otherwise it will keep beeping until the end of the night. Nasty, that one.
If it is the washing machine, it will beep every 5 minutes until I turn it off. Nightmare.
Then, you have all the unidentified sounds of the phones. It can get complicated. Some beeps mean that you are running low on batteries, others that you have received a message or that someone is calling you. It is a different beep for Skype. To be fair, I am still unsure of what some beeps mean. It is nothing short of a miracle that I am still reasonably sane (I think).

But that’s not the worst. In my house, if you burn your toast or your meat, the fire alarm starts and a maddening noise fills the whole house in a matter of seconds. You have to think fast, climb the kitchen table and press everything you can to try to stop it. Failing this, you have to open the windows and hope it will stop. It usually does. Phew!

Then, you have the security alarm. It is the worst. It starts with small beeps and if you don’t enter the code within a certain time (like a couple of minutes), you are sure to wake up half of London. If it happens in the middle of the night, it is simply terrifying, because you have to rush downstairs in your PJs to stop it. Not to mention that for some reason my alarm doesn’t like it when it gets windy. I don’t know what to do about it. I am having panic attacks when the wind blows outside for fear it might set off the alarm. Honestly.

But the other day, I heard a new beep. It wasn’t any of the usual suspects. It started low and went louder and louder. My darling husband had bought some carbon monoxide detectors for the home and was testing them. Don’t get me wrong, I know that it can save lives and is one of the big domestic killers, but right now I long for some peace and quiet. How does everybody cope with all the noise? I am becoming beeping mad. 

Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London

Posted by / Category London /

There is something about my British friends. It took me a long time to put my finger on it, but I think that I have nailed it. Finally. They all seem to know all about locals and pubs. How do they do it? Where is such a knowledge coming from?

Just to give you a few examples: I wanted to meet up with a friend and fellow blogger for a catch-up on a Friday evening and she instantly knew somewhere ideal on Wardour Street, in Soho because it was nice and at the same time not too crowded. Maybe it is in the British genes. I really wonder.

Another time, I met up some old colleagues in a wine bar close to Embankment. It was small, busy and quite trendy. When I mentioned this to my current colleagues, the British ones knew instantly where I had been. How come? How did it happen?

My British friends are a walking encyclopaedia of where to unwind and have a glass of wine/beer/soft drink after work or after a meeting, wherever the meeting can be. I must have missed a trick somewhere. Is there a guide that I have missed? I really wonder. I have to research, ask and check to find the right venues. They get it instantly and effortlessly. How come?

Well, I suppose that I will have to work hard on my Britishness from now on…I have a lot to do. I’d better get started. Cheers to that!

And, if I need a little help -as we all do from time to time, I can always have a look at bars in London…enjoy the new year!

Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London

Posted by / Category Uncategorized /

I wish you all the best for 2013! I don’t know what’s in store this year, so I suppose that we will just have to wait and see. And keep a positive mental attitude. Easier said than done, I must admit.
As for me, I don’t know where I belong any more, but, honestly, who cares? Never before has my home country been so polarised, and all French living abroad are seen as tax exiles. How funny!

The thing is, I am happier here. I sometimes wonder why. Something to do with the fact that I feel less judged. One thing is for sure, it is not because of the weather, because the last few days have been a wash-out. But what would I do without the Tate Britain and chocolate croissants? I wonder. And yes, I have a French accent, but who doesn’t have an accent in London?

In short, contrary to what was implied when I was younger, there is a life outside of France. 

And I won’t make any New year’s resolutions because I never keep them anyway. Life is just too short, I will just enjoy 2013! How about you?

Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London