Our New Car! (Sort of . . . .)

          Do you know how much is costs to lease a car for a year in France?  Well, it's a lot.  Like $15,000.  That's outrageous right?  You can get a good used car for that price.  So it's a no brainer . . . buy a used car and then sell it before you leave (or keep it for future visits). 

          For the first couple of weeks we didn't have the internet.  One day, when we were feeling enterprising, we went out to look at some used cars and get the lay of the land.  There are a couple of small used car dealers in and near town.  We had to be careful not to go between the hours of 12 and 2 when they are closed.  But we were certain they would be "all over us" when we came in the afternoon.  You know, as if we were walking onto, say, an American used car lot.

              We first went into one dealer.  There were a bunch of employees around.  We went up to the woman at the front desk and told her we were interested in buying a used car.  She said they deal in used cars, yes, but the man that we should talk to wasn't there right now.  She invited us to leave our name and number, which we did.  But no one called the day after that, or the day after that, or the day after that . . . .

            We went into another dealer.  This guy was a real shark.  He apologized that he didn't have much of a selection available.  He suggested the place across the street.

           We went to the place across the street.  We went inside.  There was a nice woman working at the desk.  We asked her about used cars.  "Certainly!" she said.  She suggested that we should go outside by ourselves and look at the used cars and come back inside if we wanted to talk to someone about any car that struck our fancy.  We literally kicked the tires on a few ugly Citroens.  It was hot.  No one came out to talk to us out of leaving, so we went home.

          Then we got the internet and learned that the world was our oyster!  We found vast quantities of used cars to choose from all around the region.  There were great European models of every shape and size.  There were French models:  Peugots, Citroens (and not just the ugly ones) and Renaults!  There were Italian Fiats and Spanish Seats!  There were German VWs, Mercedes (and not just the fancy kinds), Audis and BMWs!  There were Swedish Volvos!

           Naturally, with all the interesting European cars to choose from Averil set her sights on a Korean Hyundai.  

           We went to towns outside of Avignon to check out two of them.  The first was from a private party, who said to meet us in front of the pharmacy at 11:00 in the town square.  We did as we were told.  Her daughter showed up at the same place and at the same time that Averil had understood on the telephone!  Hurray. We took it for a test drive.  She bragged a lot about the "passing power" of the car.  Apparently this is the most desired feature of a car in France: whether it can pass well.  This must explain why everyone always passes me wherever I go.

             Her car was OK, but too expensive.  So we decided to go see a used car dealer in Sorgues who had a Hyundai.  We made a date for 2:00.  We had plenty of time, so we got our game faces on with a two-hour lunch and several glasses of wine while we waited.  We still arrived a little early.  The car guy was still at lunch himself, and his big gate was locked.  But we could see that he had a used car lot with lots of flags and shiny cars parked all around and a little trailer and a big German Shepard.  It looked just like a tacky American used car lot.  Finally we were feeling comfortable.  Maybe he would want to sell us a car!

            The guy showed up at 2:15.  He had skinny pants and pointy shoes and a big tattoo of a winged dragon on his neck, so we knew we were in good hands and that this was someone we could trust.

            We took the car for a test drive.  Then Averil went into his air conditioned trailer to bargain with him and I came in to watch.  It was pretty cool to watch Averil turn the screws to this guy.  I'm not sure what he said, or what she said, or what was even happening, but it had something to do with bargaining for a car.  Then Averil shook hands with him and so did I.  We had agreed on a price apparently!

            Then it was time to buy the car.  Problem is that we don't actually have any Euros to buy a car.  Sure, we have a few Euros, and we can get some from the ATM when we want.  And we have plenty of American money and credit cards too.  But none of that works when you want to buy a car.  You need lots of Euros sitting in your own French bank account.  And, at that time (one week ago), we were still waiting for our letter of reference from our American bank so the French bank would let us have our account and put our money in it.

            So the nice car dealer said he would hold the car for us for 500 Euros and we gave him that in cash and signed a contract of some sort where we agreed to bring in a Cheque de Banque for the balance.  Surely we would have our bank account within a week and get our money transferred from America by then so we could get a bank check . . . . 

            Now it's a week later . . . . we got the letter of recommendation from our bank in the US!  But apparently it's been sent to Marseille for scientific examination.  So we still can't put money in our French bank account.  And our rental car expires on Saturday . . . .

              So, until some unknown future date, our Hyundai waits for us in Avignon:

Our Car (Maybe)

 

 

 

            In other news . . . Ford was recruited to teach some English to the first graders at school and Asha got her first birthday invitation from her new friend Camille:

          UPDATE!  Literally as I was writing this, Averil got a call from our local bank!  Here's the news, straight from the bank lady, hot off the wires:  "Your account has not been approved yet.  I sent the letter of recommendation to our headquarters in Marseille as I told you.  I have not heard back from them yet.  There is nothing more that can be done.  Patience is in order.  Oh, and when you do get approved, be sure to ask for your bank check at least three days in advance as it takes that long to process your request and the bank check must be issued from headquarters in Marseille.  Enjoy your afternoon, goodbye!"

The Little Differences

          See if you remember this scene from Pulp Fiction: 

          There are lots of little differences.  I've listed just a few.  Feel free to put more in the comment section.  

          Here are some:  No tipping at restaurants; lemonade is soda; no swimming trunks at the swimming pool; eat with your fork and knife; smoke wherever you like; always say "goodbye" whenever departing anyone's company -- even if it's just the toll booth lady or the guy at the cash register; it takes a Euro coin to get a shopping cart (but you get your Euro back when you return the cart); special parking places for pregnant ladies; you have to ask for the restaurant bill or you will be there all night; the people who work at the grocery checkout have chairs and they get to sit down; stores, banks and post office close between 12 and 2; very few automatic cars (everyone drives a stick); salad comes near the end of a meal instead of the beginning; almost no traffic signals (they use the roundabout); everything is smaller in size except wine bottles -- it's like living in miniature land -- imagine a 7-oz. beer!; no peanut butter (this is unfortunate); bring your own bag to the grocery store or else; when you pick out your fruits and vegetables in the produce section of of the grocery store they weigh and tag them for you in the produce section -- then you take them up front to pay; do your business in one room and wash your hands in another; no need to wear a helmet apparently; dogs are welcome in restaurants; banks are also insurance agencies; the post office is also kind of a bank; a 1 is handwritten like a 7 and a 4 is handwritten like a 6; computer keyboards have the letters in different places; you cannot get a cup of coffee to go; light switches are square not rectangle; 220 volts throughout; flush with a button instead of a handle; loose change can amount to a fortune;   . . . . the list goes on and on.

          But one of the biggest little differences is that you should never show up on time when you are invited to someone's house for a social event.  I repeat:  resist the temptation to arrive on time or you will look like a jerk.  You must come at least 15-30 minutes after the time you've been invited and that's the absolute minimum!  Don't believe me?  Here's a quote from one helpful guide:  "Contrary to the custom in the U.S., showing up on time at a French home is really regarded as rude and not considerate of your hosts.  Between 15 and 30 minutes late is considered very civilized."

          Being very civilized, we have made it a point to show up late whenever we are invited to someone's house.  The other day we hit the nail right on the head, showing up about 33 minutes late.  The other guests (French) showed up about two minutes after us so we knew we had totally knocked it out of the park.  High five!!

              But as we learned a couple of days later, it can get a little confusing when your host knows that you are American and knows that in America we show up on time, and therefore expects that we will be unfamiliar with the French custom and outsmarts us by figuring that we'll show up right on time.  Add to the mix the fact that, although our hosts live part-time in France they are actually Dutch and that they themselves show up on time, except when they are in France when they too follow the French custom of tardiness, but only with the French.  It can all get very confusing.  But we did not know any of this when we accepted an invitation for "apero" at 6:00 p.m.  We sat around in our house until about 6:20, feeling very civilized, waiting to leave.  We were just about to give it a few more minutes (we were looking to go 2-for-2 on show-up-times) when our hostess appeared on our front porch wondering where we were and whether we had forgotten the invitation!  That took a bit of straightening out.

          Are you wondering what "apero" is?  Well, apero is a couple of drinks and some light snacks.  It's a one-hour deal, maximum.  Except when it's not.  Because "apero" can also include a whole dinner.  But you never know what your apero is going to consist of until you get there, unless there are hidden subtleties in the invitation that we are unaware of.  So we enjoyed some drinks with our hostess and we were a little surprised when she then invited us outdoors for a sumptuous 3-hour feast!  It was good.  But next time should we clarify what the aprero will consist of?  Or would that be rude? 

          Here are some random pictures from the week:

Ford with Sheepdog/Human Mix Atop Mt. Ventoux

Local Schoolchildren Mug for Camera

View from Our Neighbor's House

Cleaning Lady

We Haven't Brushed or Flossed Since We Arrived.  Sorry Grandma!

Averil Teaches Patricia Wells a Little Lesson.  That's What I'm Talking 'Bout!

Taking a Potty Break Roman Style

Peasant Child

Parking Reserve for Pregnant Women

Getting the Internet in Approximately 23 Easy Steps: A 12-day Program to Establishing Your Personal Connection!

          Last time you heard about school.  There might be more about that later if something noteworthy happens.

            Now though, I will tell you about getting the internet in our house (Averil's parents' house).  It was fun and easy!

          We followed these simple steps, beginning from the second full day of our arrival and continuing for the following 12 days:

1.     Go to local husband-and-wife-run computer store to inquire of them what we need to do to get internet.  There is a sign on the door that says it is closed for the next three days.  But we are invited to visit their store in a neighboring town (approximately 10 miles away).

2.     Accept invitation to go to that store in neighboring town.  Inquire of guy there (the husband), who says, "no problem," you need an "Orange Livebox" and he can install one in our house 8 days from now for 90 euros.  We paid the 90 euros and signed the deal and left, dissapointed that it would take 8 days.  (An Orange Livebox is something like a Comcast cable box.  "Orange" refers to the name of the company, which is very much like Comcast and operates all over France through its own stores and independent dealers like the one we just made the deal with.  Orange provides internet, cable TV, telephone, and cell phones.)

3.       On the way back to the car, we notice that there is an Orange Store (again, think Comcast).  We go in to ask about cell phones.  While we are there, we ask about internet.  We meet a guy named Swann.  Swann tells us that it is the easiest thing in the world to get internet, you just need an Orange Livebox and plugging it in is the simplest thing in the history of the world.  The way it is supposed to work is that we sign up with Orange, then they will give us the box, we plug it into our phone jack when we get home, and "voila" we  have wireless internet throughout the house.  And they can give you cell phones too!  No need to pay 90 euros to a guy and wait 8 days for him to plug it in when we can have it instantly and plug it in easily ourselves!  Swann says we should study the brochure and come back the next day to choose what kind of plan we want for cell phones (we've decided not to get TV).

4.     We return to the internet store and kind of ask for our 90 euros back please.  The man sheepishly agrees (we actually get a printer from him which we will need later).

5.     Return to Orange store and pick a plan for internet and cell phones (we have to consider how long we want the service, how many minutes a month we'll be using the cell phones, etc. etc.)  We pick a plan.  Then it is time for Swann to put our information into our computer.  He asks for our RIB (pronouned reeb).  Our RIB?  Swann explains that a RIB is a bank account number and you cannot do anything in France without a RIB.  To get a RIB you have to set up a French bank account.  (It would have been the same with the man in the other store if we had ever gotten that far by the way).  We must go to the bank and set up a bank account and get our RIB and then come back.  Nothing can happen without our RIB.

6.     Back in Vaison, we go into the local branch of one of the largest national banks in France, Credit Agricole.  We explain that we would like to set up a bank account so we can have a RIB.  No problem, we are told!  We can have a rendezvous with the banker there to set up a bank account!  The first appointment is in one week. 

7.     Then we walk across the street to a competing bank, BNP Paribas.  We go in and ask the same question.  We can have a rendezvous that very day!  They write our names in the book for that afternoon.  We are advised to bring a utility bill from our house (if we don't have one from France, Seattle will do) along with other information and papers.  This is a bit of a pickle.  We need a RIB to get the Internet.  We need the Internet to get the papers necessary for the RIB.  We need to gather the materials for the rendezvous by going to the internet cafe to use the internet (for $9/hour) to get a utility bill from our Seattle house.  The internet cafe is closed for lunch.  In fact, all important businesses, including banks and the post offices, and many shops are closed between the hours of 12 and 2 p.m. for lunch.  We go back to the bank to make the rendezvous later in the day so that we can go to the internet cafe first.  Phew!  That was complicated.

8.     On our way to the internet cafe we run into our friend Lucille.  What luck!  We know her from previous visits.  She has internet at her house.  We can go there and print out the utility bill!  We do it!

9.     We attend our rendezvous with the banker at BNP Paribas.  She is delightful.  Setting up the account takes only a little less than two hours.  She laughs when we tell her we need a RIB and why.  "Yes," she confirms, "you cannot do anything in France without a RIB.  I can give you your RIB today!  Later, when you can provide me with your marriage certificate and a letter of good standing from your bank in America, I will allow you to deposit some money in your account and I will give you a Carte Blue (basically a debit card) which will be very convenient for you!"  We enjoy the rendevous very much.  We leave armed with a RIB!  That night, I call my bank manager in America and ask him to e-mail a letter to the banker in Vaison confirming that we are customers in good standing.

Here is a photograph of our bank and the hours of operation:

Our Bank!

Bank Hours of Operation

10.     Armed with our RIB at least, we return to the Orange store.  We look at the cell phones too, and pick two of them.  Our first smartphone and a calling plan to go with it!  Now it is time to pay.  Swann has the day off today and his substitute asks for our Carte Blue.  We tell him we don't have it yet, but we can use any of four credit cards or even cash.  No, he says, you cannot purchase anything without your Carte Blue.  The RIB is also necessary, though not sufficient.  Thus, we leave, disappointed that we can have neither our internet "Livebox" or our cell phones.

11.     The next day, we go to Avignon where we are due to exchange our rental car for a smaller model.  Avignon is a much larger community.  While walking through town, we pass by the competing cell phone/internet store (SFR).  We go in and ask if what we are being told by Orange is true.  Yes, she says, you need a RIB.  You also need a Carte Blue for cell phones.  But you do not need a Carte Blue for internet.  We could sign up with this competing company if we wanted to.  But that would take longer because they do not handle the technology at the store.

12.     We go back to Orange.  This time Swann is there.  We explain what we were told by the competition.  Can we have the internet now and then get our cell phones later when we have our Carte Blue?  "Of course!" he says.  We can have internet now that we have our RIB.  If we want internet and cell phones then we need our Carte Blue too.  We want internet!

13.     Now all Swann has to do is look up our phone number on the computer to get our information and make sure that the phone line will accept internet service.  He looks it up.  Oh, says Swann, you are "blocke'."  It will take approximately one week to get you "unblocke'."  Once you are unblocke' it will be no problem.  We have no idea what any of this means, but we think it involves pushing a button somewhere.  Swann says he will call us when we are unblocke'.  We must wait for Swann's phone call.

14.     That day at the internet cafe' I ask the woman there if what I am being told makes sense.  Yes she says, if we are blocke' we need to be unblocke'-ed and this takes 7-10 days.  It is common.  Relax, she tells me, and use her internet cafe' for 6 euros an hour when she happens to be there.

15.     We go to BNP Paribas bank.  We have provided them with our marriage certificate.  Did she get the e-mail from my bank in Seattle?  She says she did!  And it says exactly what it is supposed to!  Only she needs an original letter.  It must be mailed by post.  E-mail is insufficient.  Once she receives that, we can put money in our bank account.  I call my banker in Seattle.  He is nice.  He agrees to mail a letter that says the same thing as his e-mail.

16.     Wait for Swann's phone call.

17.     Wait for Swann's phone call.

18.      Wait for Swann's phone call.

19.     Nirvana!!!  (No, Swann has not called yet.)  Our neighbor invites us to use his wireless password and he is going out of town for a week and we are welcome to push our way through the thick bushes with our laptop and sit on his terrace very close to the wall of his house where we have a very faint wireless internet signal!!!  This is such a relief.  He is a very nice guy.  For the next few days we take full advantage.  I go up at 2:00 a.m. one night to listen to LSU beat the Ducks on internet radio.  It was dark.  Many snails were stepped on.

20.      Swann calls!!!  We are unblocke'!!!  We jump in the car and rush to the Orange store.  Swann congratulates us.  He retrieves a precious Livebox out of the locked cabinet.  He has taken pity on us now.  He says he will set it all up for us in the store so all we have to do is plug it in.  When we plug it in we will have a little green light.  The little green light will tell us that everything is OK.  He asks us for the password that we got in the mail.  The password is necessary to activate the box so that when you plug it in you will have a little green light.  Did we get the password in the mail?

21.     No, we got nothing in the  mail.  Now Swann really takes pity on us.  He picks up the telephone and calls Orange headquarters and pleads with them to have pity on us too.  Then, miracle of miracles!  The operator gives Swann the password!  Swann activates the Livebox!  The green light is on!  We do not hug Swann, but we consider asking him for dinner and also naming our puppy Swann when we get her in a couple of weeks.

22.     Victoriously, we drive home.   After dinner that night, we plug in the Livebox!  The light is red!?  Two hours later, having tried everything we can think of, and following the troubleshooting guide to a T, the light is still red.  It is Saturday night.  Orange will be closed the next day.

 23.     We wake up the next morning.  I look wearily at the Livebox.  The light is green?!  The light is green!  The light is green!  The light is green!  What happened to make it green?  Was it just tired before?  Who cares!  We fire up the laptop, enter the secret number, see the connection, and voila'!  We are on the internet!  The world is our oyster!

That's a Green Light Baby!

 But what will happen when Orange goes to withdraw the the first month's subscription payment out of our French bank account and discovers there is no money in it?  Only time will tell . . . .  And, why does the internet connection (and our attendant phone service) quit every night at 9:36 p.m., and reinitiate every morning at approximately 6:30 a.m.?  And why hasn't our bank gotten the original letter so we can get our "Carte Blue and cell phones?  Who knows?!!  But at least we have internet and phone during the day.

Stay tuned for upcoming Blog entries, including but not limited to:

• The Underbelly of Vaison:  The Nearby Cathouse and the Madame Who Runs It; 
• Free Health Care for All and Other Evils of France;
• Le Gym;
• Can We Buy a Used Car?

School!

         As I mentioned in my last (first) post, we are going to jump ahead here and talk a little bit about Le General's plan to infiltrate the local school system. 

          First, let me tell you a little bit about the intended target:  Ecole Primaire Publique Jules Ferry, the only public elementary school in town.  Location:  approximately ten minutes from home, next to the river Ouvez.  Student body:  grades K-5 (two grades per class with some mixed classes).  We speculate that, in addition to Vaison children, kids from outlying towns (too small for their own elementary school) come to this one.  Here is a photograph of the school's exterior, with a small child standing in front:

          Now let me tell you some more facts about this school as published in a top secret communique I recently translated:

• School commences at 8:30 a.m.  There is a two hour lunch break from 11:30 to 1:30.  During lunch the children may go home or go to the canteen where they are served a meal in courses if you wish to pay 2 euros at the mayor's office.  School then resumes from 1:30 to 4:30 p.m.
• No school on Wednesdays.
• In keeping with the evil socialist nature of this country, there is free care for children begining at 7:45 a.m. and until 6:00 p.m. should parents desire it. 
• Each parent must secure for their child scholarly insurance.
• Pursuant to the mandate of Article 19 of the department, elves must present themselves in good hygeine and without the presence of parasites.
• Infants may not bring bonbons to school.
• Habitually retarded children may be suspended.

          Our children where apprehensive and frightened about going to this foreign school as you can see from these pictures taken on the morning of the mission:

Boy Showing Understandable "Nerves" on Morning of School Invasion

Girl on Her Way to  School -- "Stop Your Crying!"

          Surprisingly, the French people put up little resistance.  They thought they could deter us with a simple sign asking us to "stop."  We just laughed at them and kept walking right into the school!

          Then it was time to enter the courtyard of the school and stand around for a long time and look as though we belonged and knew what we were doing.  There is newsreel footage of this part.  It is dull and boring.  Probably only my mother is interested (she will watch it several times) but here it is anyway. . . notice that the people really do speak a totally different langauge:

          The children ate their lunch at the school on this day.  Unfortunately, the French have not discovered that children should have their choice of various junk foods.  Hopefully they will wake up some day and realize that it would be cheaper to just to put vending machines in the schools sponsored by multi-national snack and beverage companies.  No wonder they are so skinny!  Until then, here is the menu for the week:

M:  green salad, organic chicken, organic vegetable puree, organic yogurt, baguette, water.

T:   organic pate, sauteed beef, organic green beans, organic fruit, baguette, water.

W:  No school remember?

Th:  organic chic peas, roasted pork of Mt. Ventoux, organic zucchini, organic cheese, fruit, baguette, water.

F:   organic tomato salad, fish fillet, organic rice pilaf, organic cheese, baguette, water.

          School went well!  At the end of the day, they came out of the door they had entered to begin the day.  Mercifully for them and for you, we forgot our camera.  Asha asked if we could stay an extra year.  We said no.  Ford said school was "so easy!"  And it is true that he excels, particularly during the daily English lesson, where he has learned to count to ten and say "What is your favorite color?"

Budgerocks Invade!

         
          In June 1940, the Germans invaded France.  Their generals used cunning, suprise, misdirection, and force of will.  They would not take no for an answer when the French people tried to say they could not come into their country.  The French people were confused and scared.  But within days, and with minimal losses to their own troops, the Germans successfully occupied France.  Here is a picture of a man with a mustache standing in front of the Eiffel Tower to prove my point:

"Nice Country"

         To commemerate the 71st aniversary of this historic occasion, Le General Averil Rothrock (American, but of German ancestry) assembled a small number of troops for a similar invasion.  This time, the invasion would come from the west, and by air.  Also, the soldiers were not the fighting force that the man with the mustache had had.  Le General had only her husband, and Ford (10) and Asha (8) to carry out her directives.



          Make no mistake, though, this was war!  Le General spent months preparing.  Every detail of the invasion was planned.  Nothing was left to chance.  And her troops showed a blind and devoted adherence to her fanatical ambitions.  

          First, according to the directives of Le General, the homeland would be prepared:

Leave Nothing of Value Behind!

What You Don't Need Put in the Attic!

Only a select group of fighting soldiers would be chosen for the mission:

The Aged and Infirm Must be Left Behind!

Next, materiel would be procured, assembled and staged for the invasion:

Mark Each Item With a Red Ribbon! 
Ensure that No Item Weighs More than 22 Kilograms!

 

Le General and Her Troops on Day of the Invasion

         
          Le General even demanded that the youngest soldiers learn the French language so that they could fully assist in the invasion of the French-land and act as interpreters if the enemy refused to conform to the language of the invaders. 

          Then, on August 22nd 2011, it was time for the invasion!  The ruthless general demanded her aged parents (whom she had enslaved) transport her small fighting force to the airfield which would be the point of departure.

         The first line of French resistance occurred at the airfield ticket counter, when the French ticket agents attempted to confiscate certain materiel through a cunning plan of attempting to charge such a high price for checking individual items that Le General would be forced to leave them behind.  This was not anticipated.  But Le General would not be outwitted!  She directed that a gigantic roll of tape be commandered from the enemy and mandated that her troops use this tape to tape the ski bags to the ski boot bags  in order to turn two items into one and avoid $150 in baggage fees!!!  (I can attest, as a witness, that the French people were dumbfounded by her counterattack, and their surrender was immediate and unconditional).  After that, they practically let her and her troops waltz right on into their country.  It would be the first of many victories.

          Le General's invasion of France would have put that of the 1940 Germans to shame.  Whereas the Germans foolishly set their sights on the north of France, Le General had her sights firmly set on the south.  By invading the southern part of the nation and focusing her target on the rural lands, Le General reasoned that she would be firmly in control of one of the premier wine growing regions of the nation and could easily execute a stranglehold on the will of the French population.  She set her sights on the midievil town of Vaison la Romaine due to its strategic location in Provence, 45 minutes north of Avignon and close to the famed Mount Ventoux (and the fact that it is the location of her parents' house).  She carefully studied the enemy by familiarizing herself with statistical and historical information about the town she intended to occupy.  Click here if you want to see what Le General studied:

                                                                               Info. About Vaison la Romaine


          The initial assault came through the French airfield at Marseille and, within hours, Le General's troops had sucessfully seized the target village of Vaison la Romaine with not a single casualty!  Here is exclusive newsreel of the final assault:

(OK, that actually happened a few days later but it fit perfectly into this part of the blog.)

          Le General set up headquarters and quartered her troops in this house:

Le General in Front of Her Headquarters in Vaison la Romaine
(i.e., her parents' perfect house)

The Perfect Headquarters!

This is the View from the Front Yard of Headquarters. 
This View Inspires Le General's Feindish Plans!

          Le General knew that this successful invasion of Vaison la Romaine was a mere stepping stone in her ultimate plan.  For she intended next to subdue the local population with various schemes and tricks.  But, for now, the first and most crucial part of the mission had been sucessfully completed.  Ever sensitive to the requirements of her troops, Le General allowed them a few days to celebrate:

Troops Celebrate in Town Square on Budgerock Liberation Day

Troops Allowed a Little R&R at Nearby River

Le General and Smallest Troop Sample Local Fare

Troops Giddy with Victory

Rare Photograph of Le General Letting Down her Guard

More R & R at Isle Sur la Sourge

Troops Relaxing Inside Headquarters

          As her troops celebrated victory and took stock of their new territory, Le General continued to scheme devious and sinister plans.  For merely occupying this new territory would not satisfy Le General.  No, there would be much more . . . .

          In the next installment, we will jump ahead with exclusive newsreel footage documenting the sucessfull implementation of Le General's grandest ambition of all . . . . the inflitration and occupation of the local school system!!!

          Here's a preview:

Troops Departing Headquarters on Morning of School Assault (Le Rentree)