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Grumpy Frogs….

1st May 2008 by Helena 6 Comments  

A survey published today concludes that the French are more miserable than ever. In fact they are more miserable now than any time since records began. That’s pretty miserable.
When I moved to France eight years ago with my children I expected them to pick up the spirit of Voltaire, freedom, liberty and equality.

Grincheux

Little did I know that almost by osmosis they would pick up another, more obvious, national trait: the ability to whinge, complain, curse one’s lot and go on strike at every given opportunity.

You might think the average Frenchman has a lot to be chuffed about: the choice of endless sea shores, fabulous skiing, the loveliest city in the world, great food and wine, sunshine and the sexiest First Lady since Jackie Kennedy. Are they happy? Non. They are not. I have never known a nation grumble so much. I can only assume that they are worried that if they smile the tax man will assume they are hiding money and come and investigate them.

Tomorrow I am leaving my grumpy children and going off to renew myself at my new anti-ageing spa retreat. It is May 1st so I will be almost the only person in France “working”. But somehow I can’t see myself grumbling, however tough the downward dog gets…..

Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008


Filed Under: France, Parental truths, blog --> Tagged With: frogs, grumpy

6 thoughts on Grumpy Frogs....

  • gillie says:
    1st May 2008 at 3:54 pm

    As I listened to yet another voice on the way to school this morning intone “it’s SO unfair” followed by yet another injustice I decided enough was enough and instigated Project Happy. From now on all the girls are expected to tell me at least one thing which has made them happy in the last 24 hours. Sadly the only suggestion they came up with this morning was that a certain girl is moving school next term!

    Enjoy the spa … I took the train from Durham to London and back on Tuesday just so that I could have the delicious 1 1/2 hour facial at the Organic Pharmacy, have my hair blown dry at Lockenego next door and have dinner with my stepmother at Carluccios. I got back at midnight totally destressed and sparkly clean LOL.

  • jules ritter says:
    1st May 2008 at 6:24 pm

    Er….Helena you did realise when you moved to France that it was full of French? It’s a national sport along with being gonflé. What I find the most irritating about the Swiss is that they cannot and it is not even a question of will not, they are genetically incapable of laughing at themselves, try living with that.

    Julesritter.com

  • clare says:
    1st May 2008 at 9:14 pm

    Hello Helena
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  • helena says:
    2nd May 2008 at 7:11 am

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  • GHCH says:
    3rd May 2008 at 4:14 pm

    I’ve been thinking about grumpy Frogs.

    And humourless Swiss, dour Scots, grim Germans, suicidal Swedes and the Brits, who despite living in Europe’s only third world country, still mange to keep their collective chin up with a good dose of third rate music hall comedy, and Boris Johnson. I find it amazing that you can be entertained by the pub card one minute, cross the road to Sainsbury’s the next, and meet a sweet little old lady in the check out queue who will tell you how the niggers have ruined the country and a cartel of Yids have pushed up the house prices.
    But this is nothing new. My darling Noël Coward wrote in the grey 50’s, when I was a lad, that there were bad times just around the corner.

    G.

    Verse 1
    They’re out of sorts in Sunderland
    And terribly cross in Kent,
    They’re dull in Hull
    And the Isle of Mull
    Is seething with discontent,
    They’re nervous in Northumberland
    And Devon is down the drain,
    They’re filled with wrath
    On the firth of Forth
    And sullen on Salisbury Plain,
    In Dublin they’re depressed, lads,
    Maybe because they’re Celts
    For Drake is going West, lads,
    And so is everyone else.
    Hurray-hurray-hurray!
    Misery’s here to stay.
    Refrain 1
    There are bad times just around the corner,
    There are dark clouds hurtling through the sky
    And it’s no good whining
    About a silver lining
    For we know from experience that they won’t roll by,
    With a scowl and a frown
    We’ll keep our peckers down
    And prepare for depression and doom and dread,
    We’re going to unpack our troubles from our old kit bag
    And wait until we drop down dead.
    Verse 2
    From Portland Bill to Scarborough
    They’re querulous and subdued
    And Shropshire lads
    Have behaved like cads
    From Berwick-on-Tweed to Bude,
    They’re mad at Market Harborough
    And livid at Leigh-on-Sea,
    In Tunbridge Wells
    You can hear the yells
    Of woe-begone bourgeoisie.
    We all get bitched about, lads,
    Whoever our vote elects,
    We know we’re up the spout, lads.
    And that’s what England expects.
    Hurray-hurray-hurray!
    Trouble is on the way.
    Refrain 2
    There are bad times just around the corner,
    The horizon’s gloomy as can be,
    There are black birds over
    The grayish cliffs of Dover
    And the rats are preparing to leave the B.B.C.
    We’re an unhappy breed
    And very bored indeed
    When reminded of something that Nelson said.
    While the press and the politicians nag nag nag
    We’ll wait until we drop down dead.
    Verse 3
    From Colwyn Bay to Kettering
    They’re sobbing themselves to sleep,
    The shrieks and wails
    In the Yorkshire dales
    Have even depressed the sheep.
    In rather vulgar lettering
    A very disgruntled group
    Have posted bills
    On the Cotswold Hills
    To prove that we’re in the soup.
    While begging Kipling’s pardon
    There’s one thing we know for sure
    If England is a garden
    We ought to have more manure.
    Hurray-hurray-hurray!
    Suffering and dismay.
    Refrain 3
    There are bad times just around the corner
    And the outlook’s absolutely vile,
    There are Home Fires smoking
    From Windermere to Woking
    And we’re not going to tighten our belts and smile, smile, smile,
    At the sound of a shot
    We’d just as soon as not
    Take a hot water bottle and go to bed,
    We’re going to untense our muscles till they sag sag sag
    And wait until we drop down dead.
    Refrain 4
    There are bad times just around the corner,
    We can all look forward to despair,
    It’s as clear as crystal
    From Bridlington to Bristol
    That we can’t save democracy and we don’t much care
    If the Reds and the Pinks
    Believe that England stinks
    And that world revolution is bound to spread,
    We’d better all learn the lyrics of the old ‘Red Flag’
    And wait until we drop down dead.
    A likely story
    Land of Hope and Glory,
    Wait until we drop down dead.

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Helena Frith Powell was born in Sweden to a Swedish mother and Italian father, but grew up mainly in England. She is the author of eleven books, translated into several languages including Chinese and Russian. She wrote the French Mistress column The Sunday Times about life in France for several years. She is a regular contributor to the Daily Mail, Mail on Sunday, The Times, Daily Telegraph, Tatler Magazine and Harper’s Bazaar.

Helena has been the editor of four magazines, including M Magazine, a supplement for the Abu Dhabi-based National Newspaper and FIVE, a high-end fashion glossy, also published in Abu Dhabi. Helena was also editor-in-chief of 360 Life, a quarterly glossy magazine published with the Sports 360 Newspaper in Dubai, part of the Chalhoub Group.

Helena contributes regularly to UK-based newspapers and magazines and holds a Masters in Creative Writing from the University of Cambridge. She is working on a thriller set in Sweden as well as a novel about the relationship between Virginia Woolf and Katherine Mansfield called Sense of an Echo.

In 2022 her short story The Japanese Gardener came second in the Fish Publishing Short Story Prize. One of her stories was also shortlisted for the Bridport Short Story Prize. When she’s not writing, she works as a headhunter for the media and entertainment industry for the Sucherman Group. 

Helena, who was educated at Durham University, lives in the Languedoc region of France with her husband Rupert and their three children.

Bibliography

More France Please, we’re British; Gibson Square 2004

Two Lipsticks and a Lover 2005; Gibson Square (hardback)

All You Need to be Impossibly French; (US version of above) Penguin 2006

Two Lipsticks and a Lover; Arrow Books (paperback) 2007

Ciao Bella Gibson Square; (hardback) 2006

Ciao Bella Gibson Square; (paperback) 2007

So Chic! (French version of Two Lipsticks) Leduc Editions 2008 (also translated into Chinese, Russian and Thai)

More, More France; Gibson Square 2009

To Hell in High Heels; Arrow Books 2009 (also translated into Polish)

The Viva Mayr Diet; Harper Collins 2009

Love in a Warm Climate; Gibson Square 2011

The Ex-Factor; Gibson Square 2013

Smart Women Don’t Get Wrinkles; Gibson Square 2016

The Arnolfini Marriage; Amazon Kindle December 2016

Smart Women Don’t Get Wrinkles (paperback); Gibson Square spring 2018

The Longest Night; Gibson Square spring 2019

 

 

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