A highlight of the social calendar in these parts is the local school lotto. The school, itself, is tiny with about twenty pupils from maternelle to 11 years but the salle des fêtes is always so packed that there are problems getting everybody in. Like all events here, nothing gets going before about 9.30 or finishes before midnight as the generations of the same families who attend like to catch up on gossip with all their cousins.
I think the prizes are all donated. They are certainly many and splendid, largely meat based but ranging from white goods and holidays to tins of vegetables. When we first moved here we were a bit afraid to buy a raffle ticket just in case we won when we discovered the prize was a beef cow! Nowadays it’s more likely to be three live chicken – much more manageable!
My French isn’t too bad but I’ve always been numerically challenged, even in English, so I need all my wits and the helpful eyes of my neighbours to cope with running the six or even eight cards at the same time. Concentration is needed for the complex requirement for a prize such as ‘middle line’ or one on the end of each line’. Fortunately the caller has a very loud microphone which is just as well as the excited children run around and around the room the entire evening and take particular delight in playing hide and seek under the tables. The lotto cards are cardboard and very old. I wouldn’t be surprised if they dated from the 1950s as they seem just like those I remember from the Christmas presents of my childhood.
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I’m now old enough to qualify for my first flu jab. Despite encouragement from LSO who has already had his, I did approach it with some trepidation after hearing grisly stories from the neighbours about the side effects others have experienced. I wondered if it might react with my Parkinson’s medication but I’m pleased to report there was no reaction. I didn’t even notice the prick!
Parkinson's Disease and me 