We are putting effort into our accounts to gain more understanding, familiarity and annual patterns of our business. It’s so easy to chuck it off to the man and pay the fee. I want to know what is going on, line by line. Our accountants offer classes to teach you the French way of agri-accounting as well as their software that makes this happen.
I had a meeting and lesson today on Accounting that I completely lost sight of because I was busy catching up on my soap operas and tending to my nails. One voicemail, a returned call and I was off to Auch. Brent held the collective noun of Curtis’. I arrived late and unprepared.
Unprepared for the lesson. But more unprepared for the herd of laptops resting on the conference table. I haven’t felt a meeting coming on in years. All the cords and electricity. How are they feeding this troupeau? I pulled out my tiny notebook and a pen.
Madame: “Avez-vous un ordinateur portable? ” (Do you have a laptop?)
Me: Uh….. non. Does your software work on Mac?
Madame: ” Uh…. non”
I am no stranger to French Accounting. Each year, I squish French Farm Tax into an American Farm Tax form. A duty I must fulfill as an American citizen abroad. It’s a painful experience accented with lots of ” why?! why?! WHY DO THEY CARE?? ” It gets done and after, I open a local Madiran at noon to air in time for dinner.
I learned a few things and then had to run. I was the only one in the room with four young children and a beef sale happening tomorrow.
I ran into some traffic. Weird. I’ve been to Auch many times during lunch, but this seventeen-o-clock crew, they wanted to get home and honk to tell you why. My Skoda met the bus on a narrow village road in Auch. Le bus drove down the hill at me. When the road was no longer big enough for the two of us, it kept on coming. With nowhere to run to, baby, I saw a sidewalk ramp. I drove the right-side of the car on the sidewalk and passed the bus. Conveniently, there was an off-ramp just after passing the bus. Other cars followed my move. A move spontaneously created from Bodie and Doyle and too much Professionals. After the passing, I think that is why the bus kept moving ahead. He saw the ramps and knew I would know what to do.
The cows crossed the road to some more alfalfa. The alfalfa that keeps on giving. Oh they are loving it.
And Mr. Pewbz is looking fantastic.
Grasspunk Rhyming Slang ( GRS ) Mr. Probz == Mr. Pubz ( prounounced Mr. Pewbz ) named so because his general genital area is white and the rest of him is black. Drifting away…