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Trevor Morris and his wife Sue left Charlton Down in 2002 for the Tarn region of southern France, where Trevor renovates old properties. In his spare moments he writes a weekly column about his experiences for the Dorset Echo Weekend Magazine.

Calling the Shots

IF YOU are ever trying to cure yourself of an unhealthy or addictive craving they do say that a spot of over-indulgence can work wonders. I remember as a schoolboy once eating five Mars bars one lunchtime, and I don't think I have managed to eat one since. I believe it is called aversion therapy.

The tail that wags the dog

THERE are a great many words that cross the cultural divide between France and England - and others that struggle a bit.

Life’s a Ditch

THE funny thing about the familiar is that we don't really realise that it is familiar until it becomes unfamiliar, or until somebody who is unfamiliar with its familiarity points it out, if you see what I mean.

Holidays in Hell?

NO matter what you do, no matter how much money you have, no matter how many trips to the plastic surgeon you make, you can't escape the great cycle of life, and within that cycle there seem to be many mini-cycles that we spin off on.

Cliché Nous

I AM not absolutely sure, not completely. Say about 80 per cent, and that's good enough. There is something definitely dodgy about the customs control point between England and France.

Decorcaust

IT is not so long since we were a nation bent on world domination and on colouring every continent red on our map of the Empire. We then descended to become a nation obsessed with the decline of Empire and the state of the weather.

Wildcat Strikes

IF by any chance the next compilers of the Oxford Dictionary should ever ask me for the definition of a feral cat, I would probably describe it as a cat living independently in the countryside and shying away from human contact' - I would then offer to post it where the sun doesn't shine out of Simon the mad he/she cat.

Ceiling, our fate

THIS week's article was supposed to be a heartwarming, feelgood article about two people battling to rescue a building from imminent catastrophe and give it a new lease of life. In many ways it was. From the first day when we stripped off what was left of the old roof, things were looking good.

Lifted

MORRISEY, in one of his more cynical moments - if there ever was such a thing - once wrote a song with the hook line We hate it when our friends become successful'.

Taxing times in la belle France

IT IS a commonly held belief that truth is stranger than fiction. I suppose there is an element of truth in that, depending on which work of fiction it is that you use as your starting point. As we rapidly approach the fourth trimestre of the tax year, I can't helping thinking of Joseph Heller's classic Catch 22.