Strike Season

Yesterday was a lovely fall day here in the Auvergne. Cool temps and sunshine. Perfect for a hike or bike ride. Or if you we're like my friends, Hippy-Love Francais and her husband, a perfect day for manifestations!

Yes, it's October and that means it's time for the French to participate in their favourite hobby, organized walkouts and strikes. A large majority of the unions went on strike yesterday over proposed pension reform issues. It's a hot topic over here and something that could get ugly. Reform needs to happen, but I'm not sure the French are ready to deal with the pain and struggle that will come from that.

That being said, as my friends dropped off their kids at school, Hippy Love beamingly told me how they were heading into town for the protest. They both had the air of high school kids heading off to a football game, eager to participate, eager to be there. It was refreshing, I must admit. I don't think I'll ever really understand this incredible commitment to social justice and leftist politics that the French have, but I'm glad to have the chance to watch it in action.

I was inspired after seeing my friends and decided that yesterday would be my own strike action day. I decided not to do the laundry, not to clean the bathrooms, not to pick up poop in the garden, and not to do the dishes until my own pension reform plans were met. (Simple demands really: new dog sled, more dogs, bigger garden, etc etc.)

I took Bubba-Love out in the jogger for a little run to see the manifestations in our village. The manifestations of the leaves changing colours, the herds of cows grazing in the fields, the farmers turning the soil, and the hawks flying about in the sky.

For what it's worth, my demands have not yet been agreed too. And the worst part is that today I've got a hell of a lot to do. Sigh.