6th September 2008

Woke up this morning to lowering skies and drenching rain. Made me think of starting a new venture: 'Noah's Cruiseline - pets welcome'. Things didn't improve when I saw that the Tresor Public had decided to send me the dreaded avis d'impots - stating how much tax is due to be paid to M. Sarkozy this year. I'm not used to this tax return business because I never had to complete one in the UK. I mean: how many noughts did the PM need to see? I understand that in the US everyone has to complete a tax return, and now I must get used to it as the system is pretty much the same here in France. As soon as the authorities discover that you're actually living in the country, there is nowhere to hide. You receive a form in March each year and that's when your troubles start as it's all written in French. It's difficult enough working it out in English, but I've discovered a cunning wheeze. If you state that your total income is less than the lowest rate published recently in the 'Connexion' newspaper, the autumn avis says the magic words: Vous n'etes pas imposable a l'impot; in other words, nothing to pay. Hooray! However, I don't think this state of affairs can last as on next year's form I can't avoid adding the amount of my UK state pension. Oh well. As him indoors always says when faced with our annual taxe fonciere - it's only 'fonce a year'.
P.S. Don't miss tomorrow's final, gripping instalment of Sex a la francaise.