A house is not a home….

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Sealsea- (2)

 

Three years ago yesterday i moved out of my beautiful house, by the sea, to start this adventure. I loved this house, have always said it was the most beautiful house I would ever have the privilege  to live in. Edwardian, with so many original features….

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I had put my heart and soul into it, worked so hard on it renovating and decorating and making it into our home.

We were so rushed when it came to moving day I do not even remember closing the door for the last time, but I do remember sitting in the pub that night with tears rolling down my face. When my book comes out you will understand why the house,  for Rich (and now, as time has gone by I realise  for me also),  had become contaminated; it could never be the home we thought it would be; and as three years have passed I have come to realise that.

So then we found our house on the pinnacle of the rolling hills that are Ambrieres les Vallees, and we fell in love. For me it was bittersweet, it was not the house I had left, it was not the house that had taken part of my soul. But over the three years, despite the well running dry, the crappy cesspit (literally, all over the cellar floor sometimes!!) and the mold on the walls; it has shown me this …….

 

I sit in my bedrom and I look out at this my favorite tree and I feel at peace

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And over the years I have realised that a home is about love, companionship, laughter, and tears; it is not the house, it is the people in it. I look at my husband, and he is happier here. I know neither of us could go back to a house where you could reach out and touch your neighbour, surrounded by people and noise. We are too used to the peacefulness that surrounds us; and I have finally come to realise that I do not miss my old home, it was ONE of the most beautiful houses I lived in; but this is the most beautiful home. It has not taken my soul it has replenished it.

 

A chair is still a chair, even when there’s no one sittin’ there
But a chair is not a house and a house is not a home
When there’s no one there to hold you tight
And no one there you can kiss goodnight

 

The late great Luther Vandross..

 

Have a good Sunday folks.

 

Moisy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On day’s like these…..

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On days like this, when spring has sprung rapidly, making up for lost time, rushing into summer, I know what I am grateful for. I am grateful for this beautiful boy, who has been playing in the garden all day, chasing water, looking stunning. After he nearly died last year I stayed true to the mantra that I said through that dark night, that may have bern his last “please let Harley live, I have so much more love to give him.” And I give him love every day, true to my word.

On days like this I am grateful for my husband, we nearly didn’t make it, but we worked hard, we learned our lessons, and we are stronger than we have ever been.

On days like this when I walk around our garden seeing everything burst into life, and being blessed enough to see it, I know how lucky I am to live here; and reminded that whatever you think is insurmountable will come right in the end, if you just go with the flow and believe it.

And I do believe it.

I always dreamed of sitting in my garden in France, glass of wine in hand, as I am doing now, and just being. After some hot days of over thirty degrees on our terrace, we are now sitting in the clouded over sky in a balmy twenty four degrees, enjoying a glass of wine in the garden, dreams can come true.

We have worked hard planting up our tomatoes, and geraniums, along with some Hydrangea in a deep pink, mint green, and vibrant blue

The Japanese Cherry I bought over from England that I set free from it’s pot, is loving it’s freedom, and always tells me that summer is on it’s way.

I have planted up some clematis that I rescued as they stood dying and uncared for in the local supermarket, I look forward to seeing them thrive. My pussy willow tree is not thriving, but such is life that as one things goes, another arrives. So I have put one of the new clematis in a position to climb up the tree, and hopefully they will encourage the other.

I miss Tinky Tiny Tilly, she has not returned, but I remind myself that living out here she has lived the adventurous life she wanted to live. I am sure she is sitting with us now, after coming through the gate from Rainbow Bridge.

Life us good, life is life…….

Have a good Sunday folks.

Moisy

When do you stay quiet?!

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I think it is fair to say that I am a Tao’ist. I try to follow it’s principles in most of my life; and since reading and understanding it my life has become infinitely better.

So I have thought hard about this post because, on the other hand, as I have said many times before, I hate bullies, I am not a sheeple (see previous posts), and I want to write. The best advice I was given when I took up writing was not to worry about what people thought because if you did that would mean that you would not write anything because you would be held back by others. I took this to heart.

Last March I wrote a post about the exploitation that goes on over here in France with people that are just trying to make an honest living. In this post I also wrote about the people that ‘work’ over here and take the piss – not doing things that they have said they will do etc. It was a balanced post but I can only write about our experiences and as my husband is working over here, and because we are conscientious, we have had the piss taken out of us on many an occasion.

I have wondered whether it is best to give credence to the arsehole that I am about to write about because they clearly have a very large ego. But hey! As I never name anyone when I write a post such as this if they see themselves in it that is because they, themselves, think that they are an arsehole!!! Really! In fact this particular person is so up themselves that they posted on Facebook recently, because clearly Facebook is their universe, and so therefore everyone else’s, about work that had supposedly not been completed by awful tradesmen over here who were English. It touched a nerve and I decided that ‘hey’ why just share in France why don’t I give ‘said’ tradesmen a voice and share it across the world, because my readers are scattered far and wide!

Here goes…..

A few weeks ago a dear friend got Rich some work at a place that they were working at. Other tradesmen had walked off the jobs and the work needed to be completed. Rich worked there for three weeks, put up with the client calling them all lazy C***s virtually every day, and even worked late into the evening over his agreed hours because of the tantrums ‘said’ client kept having. The client said that they needed a handyman and even asked Rich to work on the Saturday. But something (apart from the name calling) did not ring true and Rich did not work the Saturday. In fact he decided that he did not want to be this client’s handyman because of their childish and arrogant behaviour. Rich knew he would not be paid until the end of the month (something very difficult for people who are mainly living hand to mouth) but he accepted this was the case. Guess what?! When the end of the month came the client ‘disappeared’ for the weekend and Rich did not get his money until over a week later and it was 200 euro less than the amount  that had been agreed. We took it on the chin, Rich wasn’t going back. (And yes all the petty people it has all been declared!!)

But what was more shocking was that the men that Rich was working with were not paid at all! The client refused to pay them until the job was finished to ‘make sure that they went back!’ These men had worked four of the five nights the previous week until 9 at night, because the client was behaving so badly; and now he was refusing to pay them anything!!

Why would they not go back? Also why would they go back if you don’t fucking pay them!!!

Understandably they have all decided not to return to complete the job until they are paid for what they have already done. Why would you go back to a job and continue to work for what could be nothing? After all, when a person has already reneged on an arrangement the balance of probabilities would be that they will not pay you what has been agreed. These men had no option but to not return. Guess what, arsehole, they need money to eat, put fuel in their vehicles, so they will have to go to jobs that pay them; and this is NOT you!!!!

So imagine my surprise when this person (and I hasten to add here I have not said whether they are male or female) then posts on a Facebook site how these awful people have not come back, how they ‘whinge’ and how French tradespeople are so much more reliable. Really?! They are also three times more expensive, and you have to pay them half the monies up front, with agreed payments throughout the job; and we all know you’re not very good at that!!! So good luck with that! The mistake the English workers made was that they believed the client on their word and did not give them what is known as a devis, which means that they did not get monies in advance.

This person decided to bully them further because they  knew if they replied then it may affect them getting work in the future. I have not named any of them – other than my darling husband – who does not want to work for people like that anyway, and had finished the job he was, as it appears, NOT being paid to do. This person has relied on the fear factor and thought that because as Facebook is clearly the only medium (I don’t go onto the group sites anymore because they are too negative), they were wrong!! I will speak up for the other workers  answer me, I will publish their comments if they do and let you all answer them – I know some of you will!!

What I will say, in defence of these tradesmen who have not been paid, is that if you are trying to name and shame then it works both ways. If anyone reads this and wants to know who NOT to go and work for then please contact me I will be happy to share based on our experience (although Rich got paid something!) and that of our friends.

What would I say to the ‘arsehole’?

“It’s all copy!!”

But I am picking up that you are too thick and up your own arse to realise it!!

Sorry folks, but I hate bullies.

Oh and to all those who think ‘ooh this may affect Rich getting work!’ If it is with arseholes he doesn’t want it!!! We have enough lovely people now that Rich works for. we are selective because money is not our God, and if we believe and stay away from negative arseholes then good things come our way.

Please folks if you are outraged by this story let’s make it go global, let’s stop the bullies there are too many of them in this world!!

I thank you in advance and would really welcome your comments.

Moisy

Evil attracts devil

Love this post, so reblogged, you are what you think. Moisy

emotionspassion.com

Have you ever thought:-

  • Why some people have positive and some have negative thoughts for you?
  • Why you are too close to your friends?
  • Why you hate strongly, the person you don’t know much about?
  • Why you feel attraction for a stranger?

Every person have different attributes both good and bad types. Some people notice your good qualitieswhile others bad, so they keep different opinions for you.

Our friends are our best mate because we all have somewhat same characteristics.

You hate or feel disturbed by a person, perhaps he/she has traits different from you.

You feel attracted towards a stranger apart from personality and look, It can be their inner power or energy, positive or negative, complementary for you.

Sometimes, we complain that people have been changed or goodness has been lost among us; but this is not true at all.

Whenever, you feel broken or disappointed…

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Five go mad in France

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As I sit here this morning in the Spring Sunshine looking out at this view and listening to the birds welcoming spring with their song, I feel both at home and also sad; because the rooms in our house are echoing with the memories of the last week that we have had with three good friends, who I have just waved goodbye to as they start their journey home, leaving the rooms forlorn and empty.

I always feel like this when people leave. Yes, part of our adventure is that we do not see people we used to know often, but, for some, that would have been the case in England; I think what makes it so different out here is that when they leave the distance between us is palpable.

So last week Karen and the Dyls monster arrived

With two other good friends, Jenny, who we had not seen for four years, but who has always been so supportive of our choice to go on this adventure;

and Russell who I had lost touch with for twenty years!!

But, as life does, my mini bus trundled round and Russ got back on board in recent years (take a look at my post ‘The mini bus of life’)

As is always the case with three Welsh Terriers in the garden, with four cats (Tilly has sadly not returned) and six chickens, mayhem ensued. Welsh Terriers are known for their naughtiness and stubbornness so the cats set up a cat flat in our bedroom, and just starting to decamp now. One of the themes of the week was ‘Where’s Dylan?’ Or hearing people say ‘You Cow!’ You just knew that they were talking about the dog!

On arrival the olives, cheese (soft cheese with fig in it, Sheeps cheese, blue cheese, goats cheese, you name it) and of course the wine came out. Much was consumed and we forgot about the spaghetti Bolognese I was going to make and ended up with sausage sandwiches instead!

After a day to recover from the journey they were off on their adventures, sometimes with me in tow. At the beginning of the week we visited the pretty little village of Fontaine Daniel, four of us (sadly Rich was unavailable) and the three Welshies, bundled into a Peugeot; and despite the April rain we were determined….

But eventually the rain turned into a downpour and we decamped to,our local town of Mayenne for some coffee and patisserie

Over the week they went off on their own, with the sat nav and hand drawn maps, depicting how to find the local shops, and visited the pretty town of Lassay-les-Châteaux,

Later in the week, with me in tow we visited the beautiful pilgrimage village of Pontmain with it’s stunning church and stained glass windows. It is said that the Virgin Mary appeared in the village, and stopped the advance of the Prussian forces in 1871.

Then with Rich in tow we took them to the beautiful, and one of my favorite, medieval villages in France, Sainte Suzanne. A fortress village, that is perched high on a hill it is quite stunning, and after a lunch of tornados de boeuf, (a cut of steak) and the obligatory dauphinois potatoes we walked it off with a walk around the village and it’s reinstated medieval gardens.

We have taken them to our hometown of Ambrières-les-Vallées, and after having a drink or two in the bar, returned home to have dancing in the kitchen, copious amounts of food and wine, and huge amounts of laughing.

We have Sat in the garden, as the weather started to get warmer,and watched the Welshies doing zoomies around it, and the time has gone way too fast.

So now I sit here with two exhausted Welshies, who are also sad because the puppy has left, the washing machine is on, the chicken’s are waiting for brunch, and the cats are slowly leaving their flat! This is the normality of life for me; and I am, once again, reminded of how fleeting life is and how blessed I am. Enjoy every moment.

Have a safe journey my friends, the chapter five go mad in France is over……..

Moisy…

Homage to the 100 year old door, time to say goodbye.

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One of the first jobs I undertook when we moved in was to paint our old oak door before the winter kicked in.

Little did we know just how much the winter would kick in, and how much the howling wind would hurl the rain, and sleet at this old door. We love old things you see, believe that that they are a memory of times gone by, of good workmanship, and that they should be protected where possible.

So I tried to strip the door only to find it was an impossible task because it had been painted with destemper, a paint that has such a high content of lead in it you simply cannot shift it. Undeterred I managed to paint the door in the beautiful blue it is today.

But sadly the door could not protect us and as the last three winters have taken their toll the oak has split, the rain has seeped through, the door sticks, the handle falls off and cannot be repaired, and quite simply it would would be easy to break in, with just one kick.

As you can see the mold has taken hold, the water actually comes through and we have to use the handle Rich attached to pull,the door shut. But our biggest worry was that someone could steal our precious dogs,

and we decided that the door had to go.

So here she is, on her final day of protecting the house for over a hundred years.

It is time for it to retire, and we have to be pragmatic and fit a double glazed, upvc door to protect us from the wind and rain. In addition I cannot wait to put a mat down so that we can wipe our feet.

I am sad, but in the words of George Benson ‘everything must change’.

Moisy

The woman of lists

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Talking about mental health is an important thing to me ever since I had a mini breakdown back in 2014, having burnt myself out in my career.

I worked for the NHS in England and, for my sins, was the Head of the Patient Experience Department in one of the biggest Trusts in England and then headhunted to a failing Trust, to assist in it’s regeneration. What I did not realise was that it would be like stepping back into the 1970’s with regard to working practices and attitude, at times I felt that characters from The Sweeney would come screeching round the corner!

It was, quite simply, shocking!

As my role was to work with and help people who had concerns about their or a loved one’s care, the level of emotion that myself and my team had to deal with was staggering at times. Add to that the emotions of the staff involved with complaints, or the patients whose families had complained, combined with the arrogance of some of the people who worked in a, supposedly, caring environment towards both the patients and their colleagues, including the bullying and lying that I experienced, and it was a highly charged vile environment at times. It was a political environment so I learned to bite my tongue, so it is hardly any wonder that eventually my brain was burnt to a crisp. I have written about this in my post ‘A little bit more about me’.

The problem was that at the time I just did not realise it.

So over the past few weeks mental health has been brought to the fore in the press, and people that I am close to have experienced difficulties due to life changing events, that make you review what life is offering you; in addition a fellow blogger has written openly and honestly about the problems her son, who has autism, has experienced and I thought it was important to step up to the plate and say what has happened to me in the last two weeks.

I will be honest, with my book being considered I wondered whether to rock the boat. But that is just it, we should NOT feel like that, mental health should not be used as something to judge someone by. I have always said that I will write what I fucking want to, because if I worry about what others think then I won’t write anything. After biting my tongue for so long in my shitty career I won’t do that again.

When I was ‘mad’ my counselor told me that I was known as a ‘doer’. This type of person get’s things done, spins hundreds of plates at the same time, juggles many things. But since my illness I can not spin as many as I have in the past.

In addition a ‘doer’ will fill their day getting things done; will see it as a failing if they sit down and do nothing. I had to learn to give myself permission to stop. I was off work nearly six months and after returning decided to leave my career.

So over to the present day: over the past few weeks Rich has been working hard (yey! All good), and it is; but this kick started the ‘doer’ in me. I felt that I would be failing if I was not working all the time he was out of the house, forgetting that I would then be cooking dinner and still working when he got home.

So I would get up with Rich, feed the cats, make the tea, make his sandwich, clean the kitchen, load and unload the dishwasher, put the washing out, load some more washing, make the beds, clean the litter tray, clean the fire, promote my Etsy shop on social media sites, and then sit down and write myself a list of what to do for the day!!

Add to the mix we have friends coming to visit on Sunday ( and don’t get me wrong I cannot wait) and I decided that I should be working harder. I added to my list to erase the mold from the kitchen, and the bedroom they would be staying in (no mean feat!) and then I decided that it was essential to decorate the toilet! In addition I would add things to the list each day; as a friend said to me ‘don’t tell me, if the list isn’t long enough I bet you add to it!’ She was right, I did! I was, quite simply working from 6.30 in the morning until 9 o clock at night by the time I had cooked dinner.

So a week last Sunday Rich said something a bit flippant, something I would normally just say ‘fuck off!’ to. But this time it flicked a switch, and I could feel myself, me ‘positive, reads and follows the Tao Mois, starting to well up with tears. I knew it was stupid, that we were in the best place we have been in for a long time, so why did I want to cry?I sat down in the chair to get a grip, closed my eyes, breathed deeply, and it would not budge. I knew I had to pull myself back so I went upstairs, away from Rich to write my journal. I knew I was in a bad place when my brain started to put me to sleep and I could not write my journal, because that is what happened to me before, I would just fall asleep.

Bless Rich he came upstairs and asked me what was wrong. I answered him honestly and said ‘I don’t know’. Because I didn’t and I hoped that writing my journal would help. Talking to Rich helped, as did talking to my close friend and I knew I was doing too much. I cannot do it anymore and whilst I find it frustrating, it is who I am now. I was forbidden from writing lists and was categorically told that I was not decorating the toilet.

The problem was it had kicked in, my brain was addled again. So during the week when I went to the pharmacy in town I lost my car keys! I had left them in the car! In the ignition! I started to find myself forgetting what I was doing, not being able to find things, and getting angry at the smallest things. All because I kept writing myself fucking lists!!

Now I am writing a different list, remembering what my counselor told me; I am writing a list of what I do, instead of what I hope to do. Just to help people, who I know do the same, here is the list of what I have done today:

Made the tea, fed the cats, fed the chickens, pegged the washing out, put washing in, cleaned the kitchen, unloaded the dishwasher, loaded the dishwasher, made a chilli, promoted my Etsy shop, promoted my blog, rung the publisher, who told me that my book has been referred to another part of the company and to trust them that is a positive and it is still under consideration; washed the mold off the bedroom wall, stripped the beds, cleaned the bathroom, put the ironing away, sorted the bedding out, got the washing in, folded the washing and now I have written this blog!! I am just about to prepare dinner.

But I have allowed myself half hour breaks, to read some blogs, and sat in the spring sunshine with my knitting and a cup of tea for fifteen minutes.

I am writing this for all those doers who don’t see that they achieve more than most people do in a day, it is time you started to see it. I challenge you, write down everything you do, because everything counts, and it will frighten you. So give yourself permission to sit down!!

Look after your mental health, it is so important.

Moisy

Tinky Tiny Tilly from Tinky Tiny land

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I have thought about writing this post, because it may make things final, which I don’t want them to be. I have tears in my eyes as I type this, so forgive any typos I cannot see the screen well.

We bought this little bundle of fur home just under six years ago. So so tiny but the toughest of all of our five cats. Daisy, our black and white cat had been bullied by our rag doll cat Diddies ever since we had bought her home six months previously. It was so bad that I had to carry her everywhere with me (they are good friends now!) Then along came Tilly. I had been warned by the person who was trying to home her that she was the naughtiest of the litter, and when we bought this little bundle home we put her on the floor and she literally ran at Diddies screaming, she looked like a devil banshee all mouth and ears; and Diddies turned and ran. Daisy was watching her and marveled at her courage and confidence and from then on they became inseparable; our Black Hand Gang, and Daisy was bullied no more!

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She was not viscous just didn’t want to be handled by children, and she loved cuddles and would lay on my lap most nights being stroked and shouting at me to  stroke her some more.  Always the most vocal of our cats she would sound as if she was shouting Oh! or Yeah! at you as you stroked her, when you asked her a leading question she would say “yeah”.  She was so naughty I caught her hanging from my dress on the washing line as if it was a swing!  She was a prolific hunter.

Always one to find an additional home she decided to adopt our friends and neighbours Jo and Mike, and would saunter into their home on a whim and just look at them and shout as if to say “What are you doing in my house.” If their door was shut she would sit at the window and shout at them until they let her in.

When we walked in the door with fish and chips (a common Friday night occurrence) she would smell them from wherever she was and be in the door in minutes to share our fish with her; if you dared to not give her a bit after you had some she would put her paw on your hand to stop you having any more until she had got hers! Jo and Mike loved her so much they asked us to leave her with them when we moved to France; but we couldn’t, she was our baby.

Sadly we lost Milly our fluffball the year after Tilly joined our house so when it came to putting the cats into the cattery we had only four. The man at the cattery fell in love with the ‘Black Hand Gang’, they made him smile every day when he let them out for a play in the run. So much so he let them out for longer.

By this time we had adopted Harley and he and Tilly rubbed along together okay, he is a terrier after all so he did chase her sometimes but never did anything other than make her run. She soon learnt to turn around and front him, making her tail big, but still looking tine, but Harley knew she meant it and would just run past her.

When we moved to France Tilly was in her element, and would spend hours at the edge of the pond of the house we had rented longing to catch a fish; and she did!! She came running across the lawn with this huge fish in her mouth to show us what she had caught, the fish was bigger than her because she always stayed tiny, she had been the runt of the litter, with the most personality.

I remember one morning very early, I was sitting in the sunshine with my cup of tea and over the lawn she came with a mouse in her mouth; when I looked at her and said “I don’t want it!” she looked at me with disgust as if to say “And I caught you breakfast as well, you ungrateful cow!” and spat the mouse out on the lawn.

But Tilly being Tilly she did wander and would sometimes not return for a couple of days. Last year she disappeared a number of times and one time she did not come back for six days; Rich found her running down the drive of the Chateau that is down our lane, where children go for holidays with their schools. She was clearly being spoilt by the kids and probably the staff because she still looked like a kitten, but she still came home after Rich called her.

But the problems started when we adopted Wiglet! She is from hunting stock and decided that Tilly, being the smallest, was prey and she would not leave her. I wrote back in 2015 how our Christmas day was ruined because she nearly killed Tilly who then ran along the open shelving we had then smashing everything in her wake along the way. We bought cupboards after that!

After that Tilly had her camp on top of our fridge, and we have carried her in when she has called us for the past two and a half years; but over the past few months she has wanted to be with her mummy and daddy and wanted to be part of the family. We tried, we put the Welshies to bed at night and called Tilly in for cuddles. She has always been at home when the weather is wet or cold.

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Now we  have not seen Tilly  for a week., and this has been the longest time, and it has been generally wet and chilly; and I have a bad feeling. I reassure myself that she has reveling in living in France, and going off into the woods and across the fields. I suppose you could say,she has had a wonderful life for a cat, and that she has been luckier than most. I tell myself, we tell ourselves, that she is back in the chateau that has just re-opened its’ doors to holiday makers. I imagine her in front of a radiator or fire, or snuggled on someone’s bed saying “Oh!”

But she loves us you see and I know that she would not be able to not come home for any great length of time and I am afraid.

I tell myself that this is life, better to have had a free life, chasing all the wildlife that is out here, safe in the knowledge that she is loved by us. I know that we all go back to whence we came, and as I said recently ‘change is the only constant there is.’ But it does not stop the tears welling up in my eyes, or me looking at her bed on the fridge, or missing her sitting on the island in the kitchen every time we got chicken out!!! It was her entitlement after all!

So come home Tilly, because we love and miss you. But if you cannot then fly free my baby until we meet again, it has been a fantastic adventure with you.

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Mummy

 

 

 

How did we get here…?

L9ve this post, and the honesty, snd the fact that fears were faced, and crushed. For all those thinking about making a change. Enjoy….

Dylan's Welshie World

It was one of those beautiful March days that can take you by surprise.

Blue skies, so welcome after the grey of winter, the sun and a feeling of warmth – but best of all, you could sense the promise of spring. It was a day to be outside. I got Dylan (after doing several laps of the dining room table – which is now becoming a standard routine before every walk) and off we went. Although, from the look on her face you’d think I was planning on murdering her rather than taking her out for the day

If looks could kill! Major stink eye

We ended up in Maldon on the Blackwater estuary. I love the smell of salty water, the sound of seagulls and the bells chiming in the wind on the many boats and barges moored there.

Dylan bounced along the small quay. So many exciting…

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Processionary caterpillars and my tree of Tao

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I may have said before but I love this tree.

For me it represents the ebbs and flows of life, in the way it sways in the breeze, and then sways in the howling winds we get on the top of this hill. It never blows about furiously, nothing seems to rile it, it just goes with the flow. When I look out of my bedroom window, from the wonderful vantage point of my bed, this is what I see, waving at me as if to say ‘Go with the flow, girl, and everything will be alright. Look at me, I stand here in the long winter, and just wait patiently for Spring to come.’ All will be what it needs to be in the end, just trust it.

But this winter we noticed a small white pouch hanging off of it’s branches, and thought ‘Oh no!’ It was a sac of processionary caterpillars!! Now these little critters will all decide, one day in Spring, to climb down the tree nose to arse in a procession (hence the name) and go off to find somewhere to bury themselves in our garden and emerge later in the autumn as moths. These moths will then go back to ‘My’ tree and build some more sacs, multiplied many times, and lay more eggs. Only thing is this time the little critters will come out and strip my tree!!

The other problem, which was immediate and very serious, was that said caterpillars would kill my animals. They are extremely toxic and were the animals to touch them, or were we to touch them, then the very least would be a nasty, nasty rash, but for the dogs, especially, it would mean a form of anaphylaxis and they would die.

The sac had to come down, before the caterpillars did!!

Sadly this meant we had to cut the branch from the tree; so our wonderful, knows no fear, lumberjack friend came along on Monday to resolve the problem. Now these little critters are clever, the nest was on a branch over forty foot up the tree. So up went our nearly septuagenerian friend (he would out us all to shame he is so fit!) forty foot up the ladder (hand saw in hand) and then jumps into the tree and climbs another ten feet, all the time with me footing the ladder with my eyes shut!

They did not come easy and the branch got stuck, so we had to cut another three branches from the tree, and still they would not drop! So there was our friend jumping up and down on the other branches to jolt the cut branches out of the tree, with me shouting at him to ‘be careful’ all the time. I think the adrenaline rush is what keeps him young in body and mind!

The bonfire was built, because you have to burn these suckers, it is the only way, and they were promptly dispatched to caterpillar heaven.

All part of living in the countryside!

I felt so guilty for my wonderful tree of Tao, but I knew that it had to be done, to save it’s life. Now it still waves at me, only this time it is saying ‘Thank you’.

Moisy

 

Love it when a plan goes…..wrong!

A really funny puppy class adventure. For all you dog lovers especially those eho love Welsh, wilful terriers.

Dylan's Welshie World

We were ready. We were prepared. We were going to conquer puppy class. Dyls and I were gonna rock!

Yeah well I ended up in a broom cupboard and Dyls got put on the naughty step, oh, and Boo the Cavapoo got sent home!

So much for planning!

And boy, had we planned. A walk later later than usual so Dyls could burn off some energy, upping the ante on treats with chopped up chicken, and hip flask in case of emergencies. What could possibly go wrong?

Some good news though Teeny Tilly the Chug has realised that resistance is futile has waved the white flag and stopped snarling at Dyls and the rest of the girls.

Anyway back to class and there was a frisson of excitement in the air, as it was the last day of term as due to the Easter holidays there is no class next…

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