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It’s been a while!

I am still in Jersey. It has been nearly eight weeks now, and I cannot begin to tell you how much I want to go home.

My work had assisted in finding a little cargo boat, that I have taken to calling Boaty McBoatface, to take me home last Wednesday.

I duly completed the paperwork for travel during this pandemic and sent it off. The French immigration came back asking for proof that I lived in France. I duly sent four bills, and my tax returns from last year and the not yet completed (because I am stuck here!) Tax forms for this year. I could have opened a bank account with the amount of documentation I sent! But the good old French immigration department waited until the day I was due to travel to say that because I had mistakenly ticked a box on the form that didn’t apply to me (the other two boxes applied: I was returning to my home address, I was travelling across France to get to my home address) they had refused my application.

I have lived in France long enough to know that because the restrictions are being lifted on Monday they don’t want to do the paperwork. The only problem is if I leave it until Monday I will be cutting it fine to get the boat on Wednesday. As the old regulations apply I have filled in the form again and done it now. I am placed with fantastic people, but I am desperate to go home, and they understand that.

I am not going to lie, there were a lot of tears on Wednesday, as I had to open my case and get some clothes back out.

Add to that in the afternoon I fell over a concrete block, and I fell hard. I actually counted my blessings that at fifty-seven I didn’t break my hip, arm or leg. I guess having some weight on me helped, but I think mainly it was all the years I taught aerobics. (Mental note: I must resume exercising!) On Wednesday I felt very sorry for myself. But the lovely lady I am with told me to have a hot bath, and boy did it help. I didn’t realise how much I was in shock.

I came over with only early spring clothes to wear. Summer is almost here so luckily the garden centre (which has beautiful Italian clothes) had a 50% sale, due the pandemic. Five dresses, five tops, three pairs of trousers and four pairs of shoes later, I have consoled myself with some retail therapy. (It’s been a long time coming!)

But it doesn’t make up for being with RD, who is finding it hard, or my beautiful furries.

They are all missing their mummy, and, boy, am I missing them.

But being me, I have pulled myself back together, but I am going to ask all my readers to send some positive thoughts that I get home next week, because they would really be appreciated.

I however am going to break with my normal approach of thinking well and just this once I am hoping that bumptious official in immigration has a shitty bank holiday weekend!

Namaste!

Rosie