Category Archives: Irish Scenes

Moving Again PT I

13 Tuesday Apr 2021

Posted by in coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, LIfe, Making our own way, Mountains in Ireland, My home, new adventures, New Paths, The continuing adventure

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Harley and Wiglet looking at their new view

It’s been a week since we started the move from our rental property to our new house, and what a week! Being the second time we have moved country we are used to the hard work and logistics that have to be put into place. The when you move country is you often have to move twice, once into a rental and then again into the home you buy.

RD and I were talking the other day about how we have basically been packing and unpacking in some form for seven months this time: Montaigu France – Gite in France- Rental Cottage in Ireland- New home.

But I’m not complaining because we have learned a lot from this part of the adventure, not least for me, because I have learned that whilst I think we need to do X life will show me we need to do Y, and this time I listen.

The start of decorating the bedroom

I was convinced we needed to decorate our bedroom before our bed came yesterday (that’s another story!) and bless RD he duly starting stripping the wall, but we had deliveries every day, on top of actually loading our van with stuff from the rental and driving it across the mountains to our new home, often through snowy wonderlands.

The oven in our new home looked as if it had something growing in it! Needless to say once the huge delivery of white goods arrived on Saturday that was a priority job for RD, along with fitting the washing machine and so much more: moving the fridge 4 times (women of the world will understand), putting the Hoover together, and the bed when it finally arrived, and the coffee table….

As well as decanting the boxes and boxes of stuff we have acquired and brought with us I have been busy ordering essentials, like crockery! Nearly all of our worldly goods are in France with no sign of when we can have them sent over, or collect them. But as most of them are going in the garage they’re not a priority for now, but it does mean we have to buy many essentialsall over again.

I have also been busy arranging rubbish collection (not automatic in Ireland, it’s collected by private companies) and arranging internet, and deliveries. To say we’re tired is an understatement.

The front gates and gate into the paddock had to be covered in wire to stop the Welshies getting out, that was our first job, carried out by RD on the first day we started the move in the snow and sleet. When we finally spent our first night here on Saturday, sleeping in the floor, we had been driving a total of 15 hours in round trips back to the rental. Add the final trip on Sunday when we went back to pick up our final bits and clean the cottage RD had wracked up 18 hours of driving and we still had another full van to unload. Followed by another night of sleeping on the floor!

I have limited internet, and hit and miss 4G on my phone, so pictures will be few for now, but I will do my best to keep you all in the mix. RD and I really feel that this little house is home, I think we all feel that.

Moisy

April Snow In Ireland

06 Tuesday Apr 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, Mountains in Ireland, new adventures, The continuing adventure, The seasons

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It’s 9.30 in the morning and we’re driving to our new home, around the lower parts of the Derryveagh Mountains in driving snow! In April!

Snowcapped Mountains in Ireland

With a loaded van and two Welshies (the cats aren’t stupid they’re warm in our rental) we do love an adventure.

Never give up, embrace all life has to offer.

Rosie

Life In Limbo – We Are Getting Restless

30 Tuesday Mar 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, Change is a coming, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, LIfe, My family and other furry creatures, new adventures, The continuing adventure, Us

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Dunmore in Beautiful Donegal Ireland

RD and I are getting restless. Ever the home-makers after twelve weeks of living in our rental we want to move on into our own house and start to build our lives.

Now don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for this lovely little cottage we are renting. The landlord is so lovely, and the crofters around us have been so welcoming and friendly. But it’s not our home, and with our things still in France I have tried to make it as homely as possible buying some things we will need for our new house and using them here. I love our pretty crystal lights, currently on our bedside tables, but probably destined for our new living room.

Having always been a homebody there is of course nothing like a cushion or throw. The animals love them too…

Kittens on our day ed in Montaigu
Wiglet in her old French Antique Cot, it didn’t make the move to Ireland.

Sadly most of my cushions are in France, and some didn’t make the move, so I brought some throws and cushions with us, as many as I could shove under the dogs without their heads touching the roof of the van! Knowing we will need some more I bought some from trusty Ikea, and I have made the living room as much our own as I could.

But it’s not home, no cherubs, no pretty curtains, no bed with crystals or little stars, no vintage French mirrors.

Home

As those that read my blog know the views here have been nothing but breathtaking, and we count our blessings for the opportunity to live here.

But before we moved here we used the lessons we had learnt: in not letting our hearts run away with us, and we drew up a list of our ‘idyll’ for where we wanted to live. With one of the biggest things being that we didn’t want to be in the middle of nowhere. We need to work, we want to work, we have realised that we don’t want to retire, yet, so we need to be nearer to where work is available. We also wanted to be near amenities, but still in the peace of the countryside; where we are now is literally at the tip of a little peninsula, surrounded by sea with a fifteen minute drive just to get out onto the main road, stunningly beautiful, but also remote. There is always a compromise.

All of that has served to re-enforce that we want to be near to a community, including shops, pubs (of course!) and a hub.

Carrickfin Beach and Donegal Airport.

Look at the picture above and you will see a small road on the right hugging the coastline, follow that road up into the outcrop and we currently live at the very end of that little outcrop on the left, literally right by the sea. You cannot even see the house we are so far out. It really is a spectacular place to be, and for a short stay or holiday I personally don’t think it could be beaten. But to get to any main town to work you have to drive almost an hour and a half up through the mountains, so it is impacting on finding work because once our current address is seen we would probably be excluded due to the journey. (Although I think that may be life trying to tell us something.)

Add to all of this that we are surrounded by houses on all sides, as is normal with crofts, it also means that there are other dogs all around us and Wiglet is constantly on a state of high alert. She had a bad start in life, put in a pound with other dogs who beat the crap out of her, so being able to see other dogs in our garden from all angles is her idea of a nightmare. We are stressed because she is stressed and we need to de-stress her.

Wiglet and her Wonky Smile

Poor Harley has constantly been on a lead when we take him out for nearly four months and we can see that he is depressed, which is hardly surprising given that he had the run of an acre of land in Montaigu

Harley, Waiting Patiently

So it’s time to move and things are on their way, more to come……

Rosie

Our First Spring In Ireland

22 Monday Mar 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, France, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Heritage, Irish Scenes, LIfe, Mountains in Ireland, new adventures, New Paths, Spirituality, The continuing adventure, The Iris Adventure, The seasons, The Wild Atlantic Way

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As I started to write this post the realisation came to me that I will actually see all the seasons in Ireland for the first time this year. It just seemed like a revelation, because we only visited in the summer when I was a child, therefore I never saw Ireland in any other guise.

I learned to really respect the seasons during my time in France. I wrote often of them, especially Spring and Autumn, with both seasons representing change: one welcomes life, one tries to teach us to understand death, and letting go. Life’s ever evolving pattern.

I am looking forward to what the seasons in Ireland will bring, having already experienced the Winter with it’s hooleys and snowy mountains! So many Irish people said how we needed to wrap up warm because of the cold winds, but we were used to them from living on our little house on the hill in Northern France for six years, the winter did not phase us, but the scenery blew us away…

Earrach …It is the first day of Spring today

Earrach means Spring in Gaelic, and there are three days considered to be the first day of Spring in Ireland, but in Ireland the one most consider the first day of Spring is the 1st of February. It’s known as Imbolc ( which means ‘in the belly’ referring to the pregnant ewes) in line with Gaelic tradition, and was a day to celebrate the end of a harsh winter and the coming of warmer weather, being the midway point between the Winter and Spring equinox, it was also the opportunity to rebuild stocks, and for milk to be available. It’s also known as St Brigid’s Day.

A Picture Depicting Brigid The Pagan Goddess

Now there are two schools of thought on this: Brigid was a pagan goddess whose pagan ceremony was held on the 1st of February, as she was also considered the patroness of early Spring. Then suddenly in medieval times, and quite fortuitously, a nun by the same name came along with all the same attributes of the goddess Brigid, how weird! And guess what? She was made a Saint, whose celebratory day was also the 1st of February. I don’t know, it seems to happen so often, how these Christian holidays and Saints day tie in with pagan ones. Must just be coincidence! Poor old pagan Goddess Brigid was elbowed out of the way and her day was given to a prioress who supposedly helped the poor. That’s not to diss St Brigid, she is now considered a patron saint of Ireland, and probably liked to have a good old knees up and a drink with St Patrick!

But that’s not the end of it, all is not lost the Irish still have a soft spot for Brigid the pagan goddess, and still make the pagan crosses to hang on their doors to welcome The goddess who would visit them on the first day of Spring.

The Pagan Cross of Brigid

Now, believing what you will, Spring in Ireland traditionally starts on the 1st of February for logical reasons: the days get longer, the weather starts to warm up (although when hail was sheeting down on us last week you wouldn’t have thought so!) and the flowers start to break through. In fact last week we watched in wonder, with tears in our eyes from laughter as the crofter tried to put two lambs in the field behind his house, he picked one up and carried it to the field, then he went back for the second as the first followed him back bleating it’s head off, bless him he must have done it at least five times until he got someone else to help him. If I can I am going to ask if I can see them, taking the chance that I may never eat lamb again if I do.

Over the last two weeks we have had hail, snow, rain (of course it’s Ireland!) and beautiful warm sunshine. They do say that March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb! With all this weather we have had some fabulous cloud phenomena over the mountains, it’s like seeing an ever changing painting, and we are loving it.

Mount Errigal with Levanter clouds around the bottom

There is nothing like warm Spring sunshine to give you hope, and despite all the madness in the world today nature goes on her way, doing what she needs to do, no lockdowns for her!

Spring Sunshine in Carrickfin Donegal

Moira (also known as Rosie)

The Glens…And Harley Pup

21 Sunday Feb 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Glens, Irish Scenes, Mountains in Ireland, The continuing adventure

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A frozen glen in the Derryveagh Mountains 2021

There are thirty mountain ranges in Ireland, with glen’s running down through them. The word glen comes from the Irish and Scottish word ‘gleann’ and means a narrow valley, more often than not with water cascading down through it cutting through the rock as it goes. We are currently living near the Derryveagh Mountain range in Donegal. My understanding is that it is the Bluestack mountains that we will be able to see from the house we are hoping to buy, which is good news as far as I am concerned.

I have written before of my love of the glens. When I was a very young child we would visit Ireland on holiday, and whilst my dad helped his brother on his farm I would play with my cousins in the glen that run past the side of their farmland. There was a small stone bridge that straddled the freezing cold sparkling water as it ran down from the mountains to meet the sea, and we would all congregate under the bridge on warm sunny days catching tiddlers and then letting them go. It is one of my favourite memories of my holidays in Ireland.

The glen of Aherlow which run past my uncles farm

Ever since then I have always been fascinated with the beauty of the glens, as they catch the light and take it with them to the sea.

The last time I was in Ireland before moving here, was thirty-six years ago when my dad brought the whole family, including boyfriends of the time, to visit his family. I can remember walking up what I think were the Galtee Mountains and along the edge of the Glen of Aherlow; the further you walked up the mountain the bigger the glen was in places, sometimes a raging torrent angrily hurtling down the hills, as if it really didn’t want to leave it’s surroundings but compelled by some sort of magic to keep going anyway. The sun was shining and the glen was at it’s most magnificent, a watery jewel that only nature could create.

The glen of Aherlow in the mountains

My partner at the time had a terrible wound on his hand, he had caught it with a grinder and took layers of skin off and it just wouldn’t heal. My dad told him to place his hand in the freezing pure waters of the glen and hold it there. His hand was healed before the holiday was over.

My Beautiful Boy Harley

For those new to my blog, of which there seem to be quite a few so welcome, our Welshie Harley has always loved water, and especially the light that sparkles on it. There was never a moment of peace when our pool was in place for the summer, no laying in the water and relaxing because Harley would just be stood up beside the pool barking incessantly until you splashed him, and he would then chase the sparkling droplets all around the garden. It was the same with the hose, he just loved it.

Harley at the Pool
Harley chasing sparkling water courtesy of daddy

It was one of the things that broke our heart when we took it down for the last time. But we comforted ourselves that he would love his life here.

Harley had a terrible health scare back in 2017 when he nearly died. Since then we have always been afraid that it would have affected him in other ways, add to that he is not getting any younger and it is always a worry.

Towards the end of last year we had another health scare with him, which resulted in me being in tears for a whole weekend until we decided to ‘wait and see’. But one of the things that I said at the time, through the tears was that I just wanted to get Harley to Ireland, and for him to see the beaches, and more importantly the glens, with their sparkling magical light that I knew my boy would love.

I was not wrong.

Although we have not been able to go into the mountains for walks due to the dreaded lockdown we have been able to experience some of the glens as they finally meet the sea; and Harley, like his mummy, has absolutely loved them.

We have visited a town near to us where the glen finally runs free into the sea, gurgling hysterically as it’s journey finally comes to fruition. Harley could not resist getting closer to take a look.

A few weeks ago we went to the long beach near to us, and there was a small glen trickling down to freedom, because we have not been able to get into the mountains we showed it to Harley, it was one of those moments that makes you smile.

I cannot wait until we can go into the mountains and my boy can finally stand in their healing waters. More to come on this subject.

Rosie

It’s Just A View….

16 Tuesday Feb 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, France, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, mental health, My home, Reflections, Simple things, sunrises and sunsets, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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Dunmore, Donegal, Ireland January 2021

Only recently someone said to me that ‘Yousure know how to find a view’. I thought of it the other day as I was pegging out my washing in the blustery winds and suddenly stopped and looked at this…

As I turned and found myself looking at this on the other side, It did just make me stop and think of that conversation.

But I was also reminded of a conversation I had last summer with an elderly lady that I cared for. She had the most amazing view from every room in the home she had lived in for over fifty years. When I commented on the view she said ‘Yes, it’s a view!’ I understood exactly what she meant, a view is a fleeting thing, something that holds you in awe for a time and then it becomes like the sideboard, something that you take for granted, something that you have seen over and over, it no longer makes you go ‘wow!’ Unless you stop at times, and look out and remind yourself of how lucky you are.

When we first moved to Montaigu in France the view across the valley literally took my breath away.

The Valley From My French Garden

I would stand at my washing line and look across this valley and remind myself ‘I live here!’ In the same way as I would look out of my bedroom window at the hay bales as summer drew to a close and marvel at the colours, and nature.

French Summers

As time moved on although we never really tired of the view I can’t say that we were ‘in awe’ any longer, not unless we made ourself stop, and count our blessings.

But every morning if I was up early enough to see the sunrise I would rush out in my jymbi jambes and slippers and take photos of the sunrise, because no two were ever the same, all truly breathtaking. We count that view as a blessing, something in our memories for the rest of our lives.

Sunrises in the Pays de Loire

Now I find myself here in Donegal Ireland, surrounded by mountain ranges and beaches, it is the most atmospheric place that I have ever lived.

As I walk to the beach the colours change over and over, as does the weather with the sun, wind and rain.

I think it will be impossible to become bored with this, but I also think that’s because we try to always focus on the here and now, never take anything for granted, and count our blessings. One of those is that I have a view, but is it in the perspective? Can we not see something beautiful wherever we are? I don’t know I think I’ve been blessed.

More to come.

Rosie

Invigorating Cold Atlantic Winds

11 Thursday Feb 2021

Posted by in Beautiful Donegal, coming home, Dream, For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, The continuing adventure, The seasons, The Wild Atlantic Way

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Kincasslagh Donegal Ireland

The cold is here in Ireland, along with most of North West Europe, but so far we have had only a flurry of snow.

Today RD had an appointment and I was here with the puppies, meaning we walked down to the beach alone. Well apart from the little Jack Russell, who I have nicknamed Fannie Annie, who has decided that she wants to walk with us most days. Wiglet tried to bite her initially, as is normal for our insecure little dog, but Fannie Annie was far too fast for her and in the end our little fat-arsed Oompa Loompa gave up and called a truce.

Wiglet with Fanny Annie,, whose keeping a safe distance

There is nothing like walking in the biting wind, the kind that stings your face, to wake you up and invigorate you.

Winter On The Beach In Donegal

Nature really is a fabulous thing.

When we arrived on the beach the tide was out, and I found myself surrounded by stark winter colours everywhere.

With the dunes taking the brunt of the wind the beach felt calm and the sun was warm on my back, a timely reminder that despite this cold Spring is on its way.

Winter in Donegal

I count my blessings every day.

Rosie

Am I lucky? Or Can Anyone Be ‘Lucky’?

31 Sunday Jan 2021

Posted by in coming home, Dream, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, Learning and Evolving, Making our own way, mental health, Mountains in Ireland, new adventures, New Paths, The continuing adventure

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Ever since starting this blog nearly six years ago it has always been my aim to encourage people to just consider something different, to think, to not be afraid.

I have been inspired by many books and philosophies over the years, and although now someone who tries to remind myself of the teaching of the Tao, and follow it where I can, if you asked me what book, to date, has inspired me the most then it would always be ‘The Road Less Travelled’ by M. Scott Peck. It was the book that set me on the path to read the other books, and I would not be the person that I am today if I had not picked that book up at one of the darkest times of my life, a time when I HAD to find myself all over again. (You would need to read my other blog at https://makingthisbetter.com to understand where I was, and why RD is now called RD)

I learned that I could not ‘go back’ and find myself, you can never go back, you can only go forward; and even now when I hear people say ‘let’s get back to normal.’ I hear myself say ‘you can’t go back, you can only go forward, and the ‘normal’ that you knew has gone.’

When I read this book I took on board so many of what the author had to say: how our life is mapped out for us by what we are taught in the early stages of our lives, but that as we grow older and life teaches us, or shows us happiness and sorrow, to truly live our life we need to have the courage to step off the road that was mapped out, and to face uncertainties and our fears, to truly live.

Ever the empath I learned how people project their problems onto you, the proverbial ‘monkey on your back’, or transference as it is known. Once I read that I could see so clearly when people were doing it, but, ever the empath, it was a big learning for me to stop when necessary.

It was because of that book that I was encouraged to look into philosophy, and try to ascertain a deeper understanding of life. I suppose that it taught me to face my fears, and not be afraid, thereby leading me to these adventures, and to quote M .Scott Peck, to understand that ‘someone else was doing the driving.’ I understood that no matter how much we think we are in control of our lives we are not, fate, or ‘life’ as RD and I call it, is.

I understand now that everything has to be a balance: bad things have to happen to enable us to understand the good things when they happen, and to not be afraid of this, or dwell on it, To just take the rough with the smooth. So many people focus on the negative things that happen to them, ask ‘why me?’ ‘Why us?’ and then they don’t see the really small good things that happen and so the negative things just keep happening because they have lost their ‘balance.’

So where is this leading? Well it was all of this that gave me the courage to go on these adventures, to know that everything changes, and to go with that change, to ‘let go of the rice’ (The Book of Awakenings. Mark Nepo).

Some of our garden in France

When we went to France we thought that ‘was it’. We thought that was where we were going to live forever, we felt we had to believe that, because we had sold up all our worldly goods and taken that chance on France, so therefore it HAD to work. Didn’t it? Of course it didn’t! I learned that ‘life’ is about learning and then moving on with the knowledge you have learned.

So we took our learnings from that adventure and we used them to go on to a new adventure. Lots of things were sent our way to help us make that decision, good and bad things, but one that sticks with me was when in 2019, someone who was moving back to the UK after living in France for ten years said that she thought that life went in ten year cycles and that then it was time to move on to pastures new. This was a time when both RD and I were considering whether staying in France was right for us, and her words resonated with me.

Since moving to Ireland I have joined some Facebook groups for the area, and about Ireland. One of them is actually called ‘I’d rather be in Ireland’.

The Beach at Dunmore Donegal Ireland

I have shared some of our photos and how we have now chosen where to settle in Ireland and so many people from all over the world have commented on how ‘lucky’ we are. Of how envious they are.

Snow Topped Errigal Mountain Donegal January 2021

It really got me thinking. Are we lucky? Or have we faced our fears?

Or are we perhaps lucky that we are able to face our fears, or open our minds?

January Sunset, Donegal Ireland

Remember it as one of the most painful things of my life that brought me to this stage, and I can confidently say that the same can be said for RD. some people would look at what happened to us then and pity us. But look at where it got us: to a place where we know that in life there is nothing to fear, only fear itself. Enabling us to take these chances.

RD had never ever been to Ireland, but he had faith in me, enough to trust me, who would have thought that, given that years ago he thought I was waiting to take my revenge!

I suppose what I am trying to say is if you look at someone and think ‘I wish I could do that’, then your brain starts to put all different obstacles in the way, I am saying understand they are obstacles but you can do it.

January in stunning Donegal

It won’t be easy. Look at our recent experiences: Christmas was cancelled, sad to leave our home and our wonderful French friends, difficult journeys, saying goodbye to our beloved pets we had to leave behind because they had departed, working so hard we felt like we would drop, and still so much more to do…. but it can be done.

Lots to tell you, more to come

Rosie

Inspired …Winter Walks In Ireland

23 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, mental health, Mountains in Ireland, new adventures, New Paths, sunrises and sunsets, The continuing adventure

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Wild Atlantic Way, Kincasslagh Donegal

Since living here I have realised how little we actually walked when living in France. Having just under an acre of land the dogs had enough space to roam, our road was over 2km long, and after you’d done that walk often it became a bit boring. So we became a lazy, just sitting under the trees in our then garden, and looking out over the beautiful view.

The View From Our Garden In France

It’s been cold here since our arrival in Donegal in Ireland, so at times our walks have incorporated wild wild winds, or mizzle (a mixture of mist and drizzle, the name coming from Cornwall) or just bracing cold in bright sunshine, and sometimes in the setting sun.

A Wall of Wave on The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland
January Sunset On The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland
Welsh Terriers OnThe Beach In Donegal Ireland
January Sunset On Carrickfin Beach The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal Ireland

Now we are renting a house where the grounds are not secure, so we have to take the Welsh Terriers for a long walk every day. But there is no ‘have to’ to be fair, because when the colours in your surroundings seem to change every few minutes, and your scenery is mountains and beaches, and the ‘Wild Atlantic Way’ we don’t need any encouragement.

Snow Capped Mountains in January in Donegal Ireland

After every walk we come home with our faces stinging and pink from the cold; and despite often being sopping wet (this is Ireland after all) we feel invigorated. We have even downloaded walking apps onto our phone, and in the last week I have achieved over twenty five thousand steps and burned off over two thousand calories. It is good for me because I have an injury to a very small muscle in my arse, it’s chronic and I’ve had it a number of years, but the walking is strengthening my other muscles, although we have decided that I need a walking stick to help me get up the banks on the beaches, and to climb some of the dunes. Who would have thought such a small muscle could incapacitate you to such a degree! But I am undeterred, you have to keep going.

Eregal Mountain January In Donegal

Today the mountain range was covered in snow, which blew in last night. There we were on the beach looking at the snow covered mountains.

The dogs absolutely love their beach walks, and Wiglet who used to be terrified of our swimming pool in France, is in awe of the sea. She stands, like King Canute, barking at the waves, commanding them to go back. Then hilariously keeps jumping and looking back as the creep up behind her, as if to say ‘They’re following me!’

Wiglet Commanding The Waves

No matter how cold, both of them run in and out of the surf, and stand facing the wind, ears on alert. It really is a simple thing that we love in these difficult times.

We love living here.

Rosie

Winter Sunset Carrickfin Donegal Ireland

Our Irish Walks ….Being Able To Laugh At Life Even In Dangerous Situations

23 Saturday Jan 2021

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Ireland, Irish Adventures, Irish Scenes, laughter & giggles, mental health, Mountains in Ireland, My family and other furry creatures, new adventures, Simple things, The continuing adventure

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The Very Wild Atlantic Way January 2020

Last week we decided to find the beautiful long beach that our landlord had told us about. Off we went, sailing past the turning and following the signs depicting The Wild Atlantic Way

The weather was blowing a hooley, pouring with rain, with intermittent strong blasts of driving sleet, it was a joy. Really it was a joy! I am loving every bit of weather that blows our way, in the same way as I embraced every season and what it had to offer in France. I am doing the same here, with the different colours of the sky and sea. But on with my story…

We arrived at a small beach where there was a sign that said ‘No Swimming On This Beach At ANY Time Of The Year’. That should have been a clue! There were people walking on the beach, well in fact they were just leaving as we started to make our way down the wooden walkway onto the beach.

At the bottom of the stairway were a collection of small rocks, with a glen trickling into the sea, which you had to step over, or through if you had your wellygogs on like me. I stopped to look at the waves running back onto the rocks, trying to ascertain whether the tide was coming in.

This beach really lived up to the title of ‘Wild Atlantic Way’. The storm was blowing around us and the waves were pounding the beach, with some literally the size of a house.

Yep! That’s a wave!

RD had made his way onto the beach in front of me, and as I watched the waves run over my wellygogs, they went from covering my toes to coming halfway up my boot, in one wave! I shouted to RD ‘The tide is coming in, we need to go back’ as the third wave came to the top of my boot. He looked at me as if I was mad until he saw how deep the water was becoming, and as I turned and made my way back to the walkway he started to come back, reigning the Welshies in on their leads. But Harley’s lead jammed and as RD was pulling him back manually a huge wave came in and just took RD’s feet out from under him, literally. It pulled Wiglet’s lead and dragged her back into the sea, luckily she managed to scramble onto a rock.

The rocks now filling with water

I had turned round just in time to see it happen, it was so fast, and RD was just laying there, with his back to me, with the waves building up to come again, and I knew we were in trouble.

My immediate reaction was ‘Oh my God!’ But as the wave went out it also pulled RD’s tracksuit bottoms and pants down (thank God we were the only lunatics on the beach!) and I confess as I scrambled back across the rocks a little giggle escaped from me, and although I was terrified I was struggling not to laugh as my husband lay on the beach with his arse on show.

By the time I got to RD he had managed to get up, but was soaked from top to bottom, and was covered in sand. Wiglet was fine and just ran up to me but Harley was still halfway up the ever diminishing beach. I took Harley’s lead and pushed a very shocked RD towards the steps, as I pulled Harley back. I could see RD was in pain, he had hurt his shoulder because as he fell he hit some rocks (with his arse hanging out!).

As we got back to the van I looked back and the whole beach had been covered by the huge crashing waves. It had taken less than four minutes and we had been lucky. RD insisted on driving home, and refused to go to the hospital despite being in pain and unable to lift his arm. I am not going to lie, once we were safe, despite my best intentions I could not breathe for laughing every time the picture of RD on his side, with his arse hanging out came into my head. I’m blaming it on nerves.

The next day Wiglet decided to run at something whilst RD was holding her lead on his injured side, pulling his shoulder so hard it cracked and popped back into his socket. Who knew she was a nurse as well as a naughty terrier?! RD’s shoulder is now fine.

Revenge is sweet: my arse as taken by my husband!

So as they say revenge is sweet. As I wrote in my post about our walks I have a chronic injury in my piriformis muscle in my arse, it makes it very difficult to step up, or push myself up. Yesterday we went for a long walk on the beach and followed it all the way round getting to a low part of the bank where RD said ‘Oh look this has even go a foothold for you.’ Now the problem is as I said my injured leg cannot assist my other leg in either pushing or pulling myself up. So there I was stuck. As I tried to get up instead of helping me RD stood behind me taking a series of photos of my dilemma (and arse) and crying with laughter as he did so.

As I tried to get up, hearing him laughing I started to laugh, not good for a woman of a certain age who has had children!

So I suppose the moral of this story, in such dark times, is see the funny side, and don’t take life so seriously. We don’t and we feel all the better for it.

Have a good Sunday folks.

Rosie