Steep learning curve

Many such curves around at the moment:

1. How to deal with wildlife in places where I don't want it. I have defeated the tomato plant eating rats and deterred the sunflower gobbling hares. I beat the underground leek eating creature by eating all the leeks myself and I am an accomplished squasher of fat green caterpillars. But the wily mouse that lives in our house has defeated us, and we will need to employ extreme measures. Wherever I sleep in the house, he finds me and nibbles the radiator to keep me awake (Mr B points out that it may be more than one mouse, but it always looks the same whenever I see it.) Just a couple of minutes ago it ran across the back of my desk and up onto the kitchen counter. Now that's not on. I mean it might nibble a camera cable or something important like that.

2. Ladders. They're tricky. Mr B told me years ago (it's one of his building site rules like 'don't look up', 'don't bend the tape measure' and 'always wear gloves') that if I was holding the bottom of the ladder and he fell, I should dive out of the way and not try to catch him. Happily I ignored that rule today: happily because he is not badly hurt and I am not hurt at all from having him land on me. The faulty ladder has been thrown out and we have reverted to using our super-sturdy but slightly more awkward Scottish ladder. His fall (broken not only by me but also by him hanging on to the wooden frame we'd just built for some plasterboard - had we stuck with the metal frame used normally in France it would have collapsed and he would have been properly hurt.

3. The kids both need to learn to read in French. Conor will learn at school, but I'd like to be able to help him just as I have in English. Katherine is learning from scratch. This, accordingly to their French teacher, is the easiest series of 'learn and listen' books in French. This would be like starting kids in English on Famous Five books. Anyone know any better learn-to-read materials in French as I can't believe this is all there is.

I was told that when you move to another country there's a period at the start when it's exhausting, but exciting; then a period of a few months where you feel you're getting the hang of things and all is going well; then you realise with a bang what you've done and it all starts looking much less like a sensible idea. I felt we were nearly there, but now I can see we're barely in sight of the foothills of the mountain we have to climb.

Gulp.

(Mind you, the views are nice from here, I'm not complaining: just intimidated.)