Margaret, Margie, Peggy...

(That's a cool pic isn't it ???)

Margaret and I met in 1979 in Paris in boarding school, Institut Privé Rue Monsieur (I.P.R.M. but T.F.S. “pour les intimes”, (this fucking school…)
We immediately became very close friends, we had our own rooms but quickly her room became “study room” and mine “recreation room”, guess where we spent most of our time?

She comes from Dublin, and soon we found out that her parents had very close friends who were also relatives to my parents (it’s a small world).

We used to eat in my room; with a brilliant toaster (if you heat up the bloody thing long enough you can even scramble eggs on it) we made marvellous dinners because the food in school was absolutely hideous. Outside my window was the fridge for milk eggs etc, wine and other spirits were well hidden. (We were very lucky because one of the nuns on our floor, who was supposed to look after us, she absolutely adored “Advokaat” a Dutch egg-liquor so every time I would go back to Holland I would bring her back a bottle of “Zwarte Kip” and this would keep her busy while we partied away !

We had French courses at the Alliance Française but in this school we had cooking lessons, sewing, typing and some more stuff. Mrs Tournier was the cooking/sewing teacher, as you can imagine she was not my friend as I hate sewing. We once had to make a nightdress, I just refused; “I don’t wear one” was my excuse. Imagine the nuns’ faces, specially Miss Chabaud, the head nun, they didn’t like me that much…
She would come up with one chicken to cook for 10 of us! We were starving to death! She once said to me, ok you big mouth, next Friday YOU alone will make us lunch! This was my party, I showed her I was able to make lunch for 10, wonderful mussels-ragout and rice, dessert, it was a big fiesta and she finally recognised that I knew how to cook (she should see me now !!!)

Margaret was a very good pupil, even though we made a lot of fun, she always studied very hard and she taught me how to speak proper English and not with the awful American accent I used to have, I’m sure this post is full of mistakes, well, then it is HER fault.
The funniest thing is that I left Paris and spoke fluenty English (remember I came to learn French !)

We would stop at the “Annies” everyday, a “salon de thé” with three or four girls working we named them all Annie, whoever that may be, but the name suited well, so it quickly was “the Annies”. All sort of pastries were tasted there, “tête de nègre, tarte au citron, éclair au chocolat etc etc”, lucky for me I would go jogging every night, from our school to the Eiffel Tour, it helped against the extra kilo’s !

Some of the other girls were awful, Henriëtte, a German girl, absolutely a pain in the neck, always listening to her classical music, Haude, aarrrrgggggghhhhhhh, but also some very nice girls, Nicole, a girl from Guadeloupe, and Angelique, a Belgian girl (very spoiled but nice.)

I could go on and on and on about I.P.R.M. but some of the things we did have to stay secret hahaha.
Margaret and I are still very close, we try to see much of each other, they just bought a house in Tour en Sologne, 2 minutes from Chambord and Cheverny Castles in the Loire, so we visited them this summer. Next weekend we will be going to Dublin, her eldest son, Mathew, will be 18! (Remember I wrote about him, doing his walk through Ireland)

She is a very dear friend to me, we talk everyday on the MSN, it is like being neighbours, and I know I can count on her!

She has five lovely kids, three boys and two beautiful daughters, she is one hell of a mother, has a great husband (I have to say he is great if not he will beat me up…and he won’t serve me G&T next week hahaha, you know we love you too Garry!)

Margaret, Happy birthday, stay as you are, you are the best, thanks for being my friend!

We used to write to each other in Franglais, and Margaret has this wonderful talent of writing poems, I just want to share this one with you, it always makes me laugh, it is from November 1979, during our Paris experience.


It was a long time ago back in T.F.S.
That Sien and Margie made a mess
They blew the fuses for all the school
Jesus Sien, you bloody fool!

It wasn’t me – you plugged it in
You know that’s a mortal sin
Toasters aren’t allowed they say
What d’ya think? Will we run away?

Don’t be so thick – they won’t know it’s us
Put away all the cups – stop making a fuss
Tell me, what’s that smell? Is it coming from you?
God no, it’s not, Henriëtte is in the loo!

We’ll block up the door – leave her there for the year
With her Mozart concertos she’d have nothing to fear
Now put on the radio, the top 20’s starting
For God’s sake Sien, would you stop farting!

Where’s the bottle of wine – Sien I feel like a smoke
Leave the Bordeaux for me – you can have Coke
I’ll stay here tonight; I’ll sleep on the floor
Jesus, turn down the music, Chabaud’s at the door!

Je veux que vous soyez un peu plus correcte
Baisser la musique (Sien I knew she’d object)
Si vous voulez faire ça, allez-vous en
Vraiment je pense que vous êtes des enfants !

La rue c’est l’endroit pour des gens comme vous deux
Montmartre, c’est plus loin, et je pense que c’est mieux !
Alors, je vous laisse, je vous souhaite une bonne nuit
Je vous laisse le bon vin, parce que moi je m’enfuis.

We’ve sewing tomorrow – have you finished your dress?
No the sleeve’s back to front, it looks like a mess!
We’ll go to the Annies, forget the exam
I hear mummy-to-be has bought a new pram!

I’ve had 6 petits Suisse –how about you?
I dunno, I lost count and I puked in the loo!
Haude got new lipstick – she wore it today
It’s a kind of a red to scare men away.

I was talking to Tournier, she made a new coat
I wish that she’d tie it around Benedicte’s throat
And how is Françoise? Does she still smell the same?
You’re telling me, I wasn’t sick till she came!

Are you going down to breakfast or shall we sleep late?
After all of this wine we’ll be in a bad state!
Did you fix up the fireworks on Henriëtte’s door?
Two wasn’t enough, you should have put four!

Je me sens vraiment funky – je me sens un peu cool
J’en ai marre, j’en ai ras le bol de cet fucking school !
Demain je ne veux pas que Tournier soit saloppe
Cos Sien if she does, I’ll fuck her up!

Alors j’ai sommeil, je vais m’endormir
Et cette petite poème je vais la finir
Je te fais des grosses bises, je t’embrasse et je t’aime
Je me souviendrais de l’année à l’I.P.RM.