Five years ago:

“Come for a break” my cousin said, “ I’ve a lovely little place
In rural France, it’s called Combas” – the house was a disgrace.

The roof was non-existent, the floors and stairs likewise
The toiletry arrangements an unsavoury surprise

A Porta Potti in the barn, a rationed bowl of eau
Which could be heated if one found the calor gas would go!

And then she broke her ankle, a very sad affair
I did feel sympathetic as she sat there in her chair

Until she got all Hitlerish and pointed with her crutch
The rabbits are escaping, you must secure their hutch.

The apples must be picked and sliced and frozen NOW post haste
If you delay and leave them long it will affect their taste.

The tomato plants are drying out, need water, just the roots
You mustn’t let the leaves get wet – and pinch out all the shoots.

No more than two leagues up the hill you’ll find the washing line
Just check the sheets are drying out – three times a day is fine

The dahlias need dead-heading; I think I’d like some lunch
The salad stuff is over there, why don’t you pick a bunch?

And while you’re in the kitchen just shake out all the mats
And give Etoile a brushing down and then de-worm the cats.

A constant stream of orders bombarded us each day
The bonds of kinship palled a bit at times I have to say.

My sister Sue was with me and she muttered “go to hell”
Just stick a broomstick up my ---- I’ll sweep the yard as well.

At nine o’clock, exhausted, I fell into my bed
When people, animals and plants had all been duly fed.

This Year:

Well, life’s still not a picnic, there were animals to feed
And grass to cut and walls to paint and veggie plots to weed.

There were awnings to be sewn and hung to make a shady spot
A trailer-ful of bark to shift and loads of you-know-what.

The rabbits breed – like rabbits - in their wonderful new hutch.
So they’re secure as prisoners and don’t escape as much.

The roof and floors have now been fixed and central heating too
A super shower has been installed and – joy – a flushing loo.

Though water’s at a premium and sometimes comes out grey
You only flush when flush you must, and wash up once a day.

Upon the cluttered worktop a microwave now sits
It can’t be used – it’s full of junk and rabbit foody bits.

The barn’s still work in progress but the styes are looking good
And house her trusty bicycle and vast amounts of wood.

So if you’re feeling strong enough to copy with Kirstie’s charms
Just pop along to Combas – you’ll be met with open arms.

As long as you are good and strong and feeling fighting fit
And know that you must go prepared for roughing it a bit.

She’s happy as a sandboy as she toils away each day
But how she loves her Gallic home - yes Kirstie’s there to stay

© Mary Stewart