Category Archives: Friends

Au Revoir Montaigu

24 Thursday Dec 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Friends, Goodbyes, The continuing adventure

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , ,

Montaigu on the day we viewed it in 2015.

So we said ‘Goodbye’ to Montaigu on Tuesday. It was an emotional day and as the day closed we sat in the awful gite we’re renting exhausted.

It was such a rush, as most moves tend to be at the end, that we didn’t have the time to have a final walk around our garden, or say goodbye to our neighbours. But we did say goodbye to our beloved departed cats Molly and Sophie, we know their spirits are not there, but we said goodbye anyway. I said goodbye to my Tree of Tao, and thanked it for healing me, and I took one last look at the view across the valley, never to be replicated. I will always treasure it as one of the gifts I have had in life.

Sunrise in Ambrieres Les Vallees
Misty Mornings Ambrieres Les Vallees
Summer Moon Over Fields of Gold. Montaigu Ambrieres Les Vallees

Although we will return to say goodbye to our wonderful neighbours we did meet with our dear, and wonderful French friends Martigne and Michelle, affectionately known as Cheeky.

Moisy (Rosie) and Martigne 2018
RD and Michelle 2018

They had called us the night before the signing, and when we arrived at their home there they were as welcoming as ever, with beautiful champagne and Tarte aux Pommes. They have both been so kind to us over the past five years. RD will never forget his outing with Cheeky to replace his tyres, that man has so much energy and joie de vivre it’s infectious. Martigne has been one of the kindest people I have ever met, but recently her life has been turned upside down having received very bad news about one of her sons, news that nobody can offer words that will help, other than to say ‘I am so Sorry’. It made me think how much change has taken place since our BBQ at the end of the summer: Mark and Nadia splitting, us leaving, and now this. My heart goes out to my dear friend.

As we left we threw Covid caution to the wind, as is necessary sometimes, and hugged deeply, and we all cried. I’m crying now. It’s a constant reminder from life that everything changes, and sometimes those changes are hard, and heartbreaking. But necessary, as they have to be. I will email Martigne often with photos of our new life, she will be one of the very few people I will stay in touch with from this adventure.

It was a subdued journey back to our gite through the dark French countryside, it seemed as if all the houses were shut up, disappointed in us for leaving. As a very tired RD drove I found myself singing in the bleak midwinter softly; it seemed to calm the dogs down and we trundled on, frighteningly homeless, and somewhat bewildered.

Our small van was crammed with the last minute stuff we hadn’t packed. I have been sorting through it yesterday and today and find myself becoming more and more mercenary: towels that have seen better days, oven dishes that take up so much space, glass containers, all going, let’s make space for something new. This is a bigger move than when we moved here: with a twenty hour boat journey, as well as a total of seven hours driving. We are now changing our plans, letting them go and letting life show us what we should do re our treasured possessions.

The dogs are stressed to the max, and me, the person who used to try and make Christmas perfect is sitting surrounded by this….

But we don’t care, we have each other. We’ve been contacted by many caring friends, and we have our son and pets. What is Christmas anyway,

For us it’s about the New Year now, when we toast to our old, and bring in the new whilst looking out to sea in Ireland.

Au revoir Montaigu, it’s been a blast….

Happy Christmas everyone, in this strange year let’s make it a mellow one.

Rosie

The Sun Setting December 2020. The End of our French Adventure

Reminiscing: Stories: My Mrs Overall Moment

13 Sunday Dec 2020

Posted by in Food in France, Friends, laughter & giggles, Reflections, The continuing adventure

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

I thought I would share some of our funnier moments in France with you, and this one came to mind because RD and I were chatting and giggling about it in our now jumbled kitchen the other night.

In our first few months here some lovely friends, Katherine and John, came to visit us. I decided to cook us a lamb roast with all the trimmings, including some good thick gravy to soak up the mint sauce.

All was going well, and whilst we waited for the food John fell asleep in our old comfy leather chair (which has now gone to the great dechetterie in the sky) and Catherine, RD and I decided to have a few glasses of red wine. Well lamb is notorious for taking a fair amount of time to cook, as are roast potatoes (especially when you have had over half a bottle of wine, and are putting the world to rights, thereby forgetting to put them in!) A few glasses turned to a few bottles and before you knew it poor John woke up to three pissed people in the kitchen.

Now me being the cook it was not helpful that I was also ‘three sheets to the wind’ and had a roast dinner to muster. But ‘muster’ it I did, the table was laid and out came the food. I can cook, pissed or not, so all the food was looking and tasting good, except I had forgotten to bring in the gravy. Despite RD offering to assist I insisted that I would get it.

Off I staggered into the kitchen, I poured the gravy into two jugs, and all over my kitchen Island, and staggered back into the living/dining room. It was a long way from the door to the table, or seemed to be, but off I set with the two jugs firmly gripped in my hand, but limply where my wrist was concerned. RD, Catherine and John, watched with amusement as I staggered across the room, pouring gravy from the said to jugs as I went, leaving a gravy snail trail all across our wooden parquet floor. None of them dared to laugh, none of them had a lot of gravy either!

Good times seem such a long way away now.

Rosie

Christmas 2019, the gravy was available this time.

Diary Of A Move: The Boat’s Booked

01 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, For the live of dogs, Friends, Goodbyes, Learning and Evolving, new adventures, New Paths, poignancy, Saying Goodbye, sunrises and sunsets, The continuing adventure

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

November Sunrise over the French Vallees

Yesterday I booked our boat to Ireland. It’s no mean feat when your booking two Welsh terriers into heated dog lodges, arranging for two cats to remain safely and warmly in the van, and booking a cabin for yourselves for the eighteen and a half hour crossing!

It was weird because I felt very excited about going to Ireland, as did RD . But last night as we sat in our dismantled living room we both agreed that whilst excited we still felt a little sad. It’s part of the process folks, I have learned that now: part of the process of letting things go is to allow yourselves to feel the poignancy as one chapter of your life closes and another opens. We don’t always have to put our chins up and pretend that we’re not sad, or ignore our feelings and just look to the future (which we are incredibly excited about). I believe that we should allow that feeling of poignancy wash over us, and then keep going. Too many people try and have a ‘stiff upper lip’, when, really, they don’t need to. It’s just what it is.

Yesterday one of my best friends (thirty three years and counting) put a beautiful comment on my last post asking me to hug our house for her, because it had healed her at a time she needed it, just as it has healed us enough to go back into the ‘throng’. I have evolved from living here, so much so that I am ready to go back out there, albeit a different Rosie sometimes.

Making Our Home December 2015

Last night we took down my big decorative mirror that was one of the first things we hung above the fireplace. As RD carried it out he stopped and we both just looked at each other, remembering when we hung it in December 2015.

Moving on December 2020

As always life has shown me the way, you know how it does: like little pieces of jigsaw being placed like a path showing you where to go. (I have really learned to listen now.) We are juggling money, with each week mapped out as to what I have to pay. But when I spoke to the lovely lady at the cattery she doesn’t want the deposit until we arrive with the cats; and when I tried to pay for our accommodation in Ireland the money doesn’t come out until the 28th, freeing up enough money this week to book our boat. Moving from country to country is a complicated and expensive business. We were going to sail to Ireland on the 3rd of January 2021, but I couldn’t get the dogs booked into their dog lodges for that date, however I could get everything I needed for the 30th. Life clearly thought we should be starting the new year in a new country. So we will be as I write this we have twenty nine days left in France…….

Rosie

November Sunset From My French Home

Even Before We Go Things Will Never Be The Same Again. No more Bisoux

08 Thursday Oct 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Friends, Goodbyes, People, poignancy, The continuing adventure

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , , , ,

Very early on in our adventure I wrote about our wonderful neighbours. I have written about them often since, about their kindness, of how they welcomed us into this community, in fact only these past three weeks Marc helped Rich complete our barn roof. But that is for another post, a simplistic, factual post. This post is about heartbreak and emotions.

Over the years we have all called out to each other Bisoux (kisses), when we see them. It was all started by the fun loving Nadia and infected everyone. We would wave as she drove past, and it was a joy to watch her and Marc together.

We had our BBQ on Saturday the 29th of August, all of our wonderful friends and neighbours together, with them all saying how sad they were that we were leaving, and how they would miss us. My friend Nadia not least, confirming over and over again that she was ‘tres triste.’ I promised her Carrot Cake from Jersey.

I got back on Tuesday. Rich said that she had been off work this week, very unlike her. So today I took over her Carrot Cake, and noticed her best friend, and our friend too, carrying bags of stuff out of the house. Then I saw Nadia, she was bereft. She told me that she and Marc had split up, and I saw in her eyes the pain that I had felt many years ago. I hugged her close, so close, as she sobbed into my shoulder.

I said to her ‘Je navez pas les mots.’ I don’t have the words. What do you say to someone with a broken heart? We all know that there is nothing that will heal that pain, only time.

And so, even before we leave life in our little hamlet has changed, as life does. We hugged her goodbye, but I will stay in touch with her, she is a friend who has shown me kindness so often, and I will miss seeing her come home, and calling out ‘Bisoux.’ As will RD.

Times they are a changing. Life can be so hard sometimes. I feel so sad.

Bisoux my friend.

Rosie

The line, it is drawn, the curse, it is cast
The slow one now will later be fast
As the present now will later be past
The order is rapidly fading
And the first one now will later be last
For the times, they are a-changin’

Bob Dylan

Poignant Times: Notre Voisins. Our Neighbours

25 Saturday Jul 2020

Posted by in a sense of community, Change is a coming, Friends, laughter & giggles, My home, new adventures, People, poignancy, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, The good life

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

These are the flowers that our lovely neighbours bought for us because we had invited them to a soiree last night. As I sit here this evening I still have a slight hangover after much hilarity was had. But more than anything I feel a sense of poignancy.

I have written often about our neighbours, mainly Mark and Nadia and their friends and ours, Michelle and Martigne, how they have helped us so much in our time here. We have been truly blessed.

Last week we were approached by them regarding the option of buying the barn and the land behind it separately from the house. We fully understand why: they are concerned re who buys our house, and whether they will allow Mark to park outside the barn, as we do, or will put a fence up, or quite simply not be part of the community as RD and I have been.

Our attitude has always been that we are blessed to live in France and as such should do our best to get on with our French neighbours. When in France do as the French do.

Last night we invited them all to a soiree, only this time we also invited Lucie and Manu our other set of neighbours. They have always been friendly but reserved (or is that us that have been reserved? As the good old British tend to be at times!) We had a fab night and our lovely neighbours told us how they would be so upset to see us leave. in fact they do not want us to leave, they want us to stay. They told us how they were so happy in how we had fitted in with the community and they are now so worried about who will live here next.

I cried, they cried, I have tears in my eyes now. What a fabulous thing for people to say to you, to feel about you, and I know that RD also feels very sad.

The Barn sale probably won’t come off, but that doesn’t matter we still had the opportunity to spend time with these people who have become our friends. So much so we are having an end of summer BBQ at the end of August.

I think it is fair to say that both RD and I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility. RD said today how our decisions make such an impact on others, like ripples in a pond.

I have just written in my journal..

‘A lot of change, a lot of things to consider, a lot of people’s lives will be affected when we move. I just didn’t realise how much. ‘

Rosie

Wiglet, letting Marc know she loves him

Triggers and Positives.

08 Wednesday Jul 2020

Posted by in a sense of community, Change is a coming, Friends, Learning and Evolving, mental health, People, The continuing adventure

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

It’s been a difficult few weeks, mainly because I was triggered after returning to work, and I didn’t even realise I now have things that will trigger me.

This is my first job since I was ill six years ago. I was told then by my counsellor that I am what is known as a ‘doer’. It means I will always get things done, and do them well. The downside of that is that I will often be asked to do things because I can be relied upon, over and over again, piling the pressure on. This time I was told that I was being given a job because I was good at something that others struggle with, it was meant to be seen as a compliment, but I saw it as flannel. I am too old for that. But the most frightening thing was that my brain went into high alert, silently screaming ‘Oh no! It’s happening again, I cannot do this any more!’ It literally went into flight mode and I had no control over it. That is a frightening place to be.

Within a week I was in a depression, I could feel myself falling and I couldn’t stop. RD was so afraid because by the SaturdaymI had stopped answering my texts and communicating other than with my work face on.

But then work sent a co-worker to assist me and she was a breath of fresh air. She listened, that simple, she listened; and she made me laugh. In fact I started to see that the women who came to assist me in that second week were all brilliant in their own way. But more than anything they were kind, so kind.

So rather than dwell on negatives I will focus on the positives from this difficult time. I have changed their names in anagram form as much as possible here goes…

To Tan, who brought me new socks to wear because I had sent all my socks home, on the hope that the normal ferries would be working. I had to go home on Boaty McBoatface again, at 5am in the morning, so they were a Godsend. Also a big thanks for your support and making me laugh.

To Elvis, she will know who she is. Her ways brought me back, gave me something to smile about. What you saw was what you got, straight talking, but kind. Supportive in every way. She finished my last week off by buying fresh Jersey Royal potatoes and bringing them to me to bring home to RD. Then she came to see me with a freshly baked lemon drizzle cake that she made at midnight the night before, for RD. It’s the best lemon drizzle cake I have ever eaten.

Then there is Rhoma, who brought me two books, and we set up a chick lit book club. A lovely lady, who helped me understand it wasn’t me.

There is the lovely member of staff, who when I got upset cried with me, and hugged me. That small thing meant so much.

It all made me realise that I work with a wonderful group of people, who don’t have the recognition they deserve.

I am home now, sitting in my garden, treasuring this view. This will be our last summer here. The house is going on the market next week. Busy times.

Rosie

A guest post from a favourite blog of mine. 277. Maureen’s Elegance

03 Wednesday Jun 2020

Posted by in Friends, Learning and Evolving

≈ 3 Comments

Tags

, ,

This is a guest post from a favourite blog of mine. A financial journalist with knowledge and insight to make us think, if we want to. I met Kev via my blog, and still find it ironic that he is from Essex, just like I am, and doesn’t buy in to what he is ‘told’. You may want to check his blog out. …..

Because of the coronavirus, the missus and me made an exception last night, by watching the 10 pm news. This is a long-discarded habit of pure …

277. Maureen’s Elegance

I realised this is all part of the adventure

24 Sunday May 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, For the live of dogs, Friends, Goodbyes, new adventures, New Paths, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

≈ 7 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

After writing my last post A retrospective blog: Going Home…. the wonderful Ed (more of him in a moment) came down to us all and told us that there were dolphins swimming alongside the boat. Going back out in the sunshine not only warmed us physically it warmed us spiritually as well.

Alongside the boat was a school of dolphins, all female with their calves, it literally took my breath away as they leapt out of the water, inches in front of me. They followed us for at least an hour of our three hour journey and it made me think of just how precious nature is.

Ed explained that due to recent over fishing in France they had not seen the dolphins for some time because sadly so many had been killed. But due to the limitations put into place by Covid 19 the French fishing boats had not been out as much and the dolphins were now back alongside the boat. It was perhaps telling that as we approached French waters the dolphins left us. Perhaps Covid 19 has something to teach us after all.

I decided to stay on deck because the sun had warmed me up, after the freezing cabin below. I just let the breeze blow through my hair, and watched in amazement as the cormorant that followed us, so far out to sea, was one minute floating on the air currents and the next hurtling towards the sea in the shape of an arrow, plunging deep, and coming back up with a fish in its’ mouth.

As I stood on that little boat I realised that if you had told me ten years ago that I would be standing on the deck of a little fishing boat from Jersey, making my way back across the English Channel to France, watching dolphins and cormorants I would have laughed at you; it was so far from my reality at that time. And I then realised that IS the adventure: change, things you didn’t ever think would happen, and how important it has been in all of this to keep an open mind to all possibilities. This is truly the adventure.

But more was to come when we arrived in the small port in the pretty seaside town of Granville.

Port of Granville in France Stock Photo: 102271541 - Alamy

If you look to the right of this photo you will see the wall where the boat came in to dock. We had been warned that we may have to climb up a vertical ladder, they were not kidding! But more than that they did not warn us that we would have to climb one ladder from the boat across to a platform and then step across a meter gap to the vertical ladder on the wall with the sea directly between you. I don’t like heights, the platform was moving and I froze. Bless the wonderful Ed, he was so patient with me as I started to cry with fear. But it was when I could see my husband, and all my girlfriends who were going back to Jersey to work, calling out encouragement I thought of how desperately I wanted to get home, and I said ‘No, I am going to do it.’ The lovely Ed put one leg across to guide me and held my arm and I went for it.

I have never shot up a vertical ladder so fast in my life, with my wonderful RD waiting at the top to pull me up.

We had to go through the formalities with some very officious gendarmes, I hugged my girlfriends goodbye and good luck, they had to go back down the ladder after all! And with that we were off on our journey home.

Home the most wonderful place of all, with my puppies waiting to see me.

And my long awaited glass of wine (sixty eight days with no alcohol!)

This really is turning in to a bigger adventure than I ever anticipated.

Rosie

‘And Homes the Most Excellent Place Of All’ …..

14 Thursday May 2020

Posted by in a sense of community, Belief, For the live of dogs, Friends, Goodbyes, laughter & giggles, Learning and Evolving, New Paths, People, The continuing adventure

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

The sea is the most beautiful turquoise blue today, and this view never ceases to take my breath away. I have made new friends, despite being at work; and I have giggled every day. Drunk more hot chocolates than I normally would, seen nearly every beautiful beach in Jersey. But I am not home, and in the words of Neil Diamond from the fabulous song ‘Heartlight’: ‘

‘Cause everyone needs a place
And home’s the most excellent place of all’

Thirteen years ago Rich sang that song, and he cried as he struggled with where we were at that time. I have loved that song ever since.

If you love good music thus is for you…Heartlight

I go home tomorrow in a small boat, to my home, and I cannot wait.

Thank you all for your positive thoughts

Rosie

The biggest green eyes in the world

01 Wednesday Jan 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Friends, My family and other furry creatures, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

≈ 9 Comments

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

Pat a cake, pat a cake

Bakers man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Pat it, and prick it

And mark it with C

And out it in the Oven for Molly and me

Molly Kitten was born in our cupboard on the 1st of May 2000. We told Tom he could pick a kitten from the five born, and he picked another one. But this naughty kitten picked us, and she would come out of the cupboard and do naughty things to make us laugh, needless to say Tom changed his mind.

Molly died in my arms at twenty minutes past midnight last night. She saw in the New Year in my arms, held close and loved, just as I promised her she would be.

I know she was loved from the moment she was born, until the moment she died, she was my beautiful girl. All her life I have recited the above nursery rhyme to her, whilst she let me pat her paws; and at the end, during the closing days, I would stroke her and whisper it to her as a comfort.

She had many names, not least Cowbag Kitten because she was so naughty; but through her long life she was also known as Princess Tippytoes, Madam Pomfrey, Shark tail, and most of all my beautiful green eyed girl.

When we brought new kittens home she would immediately become their surrogate mum. I know Tilly was coming to take her home, we lost Tilly nearly two years ago. Last night Daisy lay behind me on the sofa as I held her, and Diddies lay close by. Everybody loved her so.

When RD was gone during ‘The War’ Molly would lay one side of me on the sofa, with our old Westie, Snowy the Dude, on the other side of me. It was as if they were hugging me, telling me I would be okay. I know that dog will be part of the contingent who came to take her to rainbow bridge.

She never liked the cold, my Mil Mol Hol Pol. She was never happier snuggled somewhere warm, or in the hot sun in summer. When she was two years old she jumped out of our bedroom window onto,our flat roof and landed in two inches of snow, the look in her face as she turned to me and meowed, as if to say WTF is this?

She was a prolific hunter, especially birds, so when we moved her to live by the sea and a seagull that was bigger than her landed on our balcony one day she just stopped in her tracks, and looked at Rich and Meowed loudly, as if to say ‘why have you bought me somewhere where birds can eat me?’ It didn’t stop her climbing up the roof to take a look at their nest though, resulting in both her and me being dive-bombed by angry seagulls.

She was fourteen when we brought her to France, she retired to the continent and spent her last days in front of the fire or laying in the baking sun. She loved milk and cream, and food, and ate up to her last day.

She didn’t want to go, she wanted to stay forever, because all she had ever known was love, and all she ever gave was love. But I whispered to her last night to let go, go with them and wait for me, until I arrive one day.

We have to bury her today, I know that what is lovingly wrapped in a towel downstairs is just Molly’s shell, her spirit has gone, but I will find it so hard to leave her in the cold.

Farewell my beautiful green eyed girl, I promised you that you would die with mummy and daddy and you did. The kitchen was empty this morning without you there to meow hello.

I lied I will cry, I am crying now.

Mummy