Category Archives: Saying Goodbye

Diary Of A Move: Dismantling The Home We Made.

29 Sunday Nov 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Goodbyes, Learning and Evolving, My family and other furry creatures, My home, new adventures, New Paths, poignancy, Saying Goodbye, sunrises and sunsets, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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November Sunrise In Ambrieres les Vallees France

As you can probably tell I am trying to cherish every beautiful sunrise that I see. There are not many left here for me to cherish. I know there will be new ones, I am not sad about our decisions, but those new ones are not here yet, and I firmly remind myself to live in the here and now.

November Sunset in Ambrieres les Vallees France

When I find my new home I will put up a collections of the sunrises and sunsets that I have had the blessing to see whilst living here in France. It’s been a part of my life.

Life has took off now, we have less than three weeks left in this house. I have been packing for the last two weeks, and now every cupboard is empty apart from the stuff we’re using. The home we built is now being dismantled. I have held onto my sparkly lights until next week, just to feel as if we are still at home, but I know I will have to relinquish them eventually.

I have been mercenary, even selling our vintage Blue Willow plates, bowls and side plates, they are just not my thing, I prefer my plain white plates. It was only after I sold them that I realised that I had packed all our other plates and now we have no small plates or dinner plates, just platters! When I gave Daisy the cat some milk and cream she looked at me as if I had grown another head when I poured it out for her on a platter!

Our Beautiful Bedroom. I will create a new one. I always do.
Dismantling

The shelves are coming down, our antique French mirrors are packed away and my bedroom that I lovingly put together is slowly being dismantled, but I am still trying to hold on to my sparklies in every room for as long as I can.

Our beautiful French buffet is now in storage along with our armoire, both have already gained scratches but I knew that was coming. No stress they can always be repainted.

The fourteen mirrors we have throughout the house are coming down. The old grandfather clock has been taken to storage and when I woke this morning waiting for it to chime out the time, I suddenly remembered it was now chiming away in our friends summer house. I hope the mice appreciate it, and don’t feel the need to re-enact ‘Hickory Dickory Dock’!

Our furries are stressed to the max, the dogs are getting tetchy with each other, and the cats have finally started to snuggle together after being at odds for years. We feel really guilty about our animals, poor Wiglet looks afraid all the time after her terrible start in life, and we have to keep reassuring her that everything will be okay, that she is coming with us. Harley pretty much takes most things in his stride but even he is getting arsy with Wiglet.

I feel sad because I know they all love this garden, and because I know they will have to move again from our rental into whatever house we find; and God knows what condition that will be in. I do know that the first job will be to fence the garden to protect them all. Despite my guilt I know that part of our decision is based on finding regular work, because we have responsibilities to them, and I know that they will love Ireland just as much as they love here.

We know in our heart of hearts that we are doing the right thing for us all; and we also know that if you want an adventure part of it is discomfort, and apprehension, and poignancy. But we’ve done it once, we know we can do it again. This time we’re just letting more stuff go, and going into the future with our eyes open, using all we have learned from this adventure.

As I packed up this week it suddenly came to me that the last five years have all been about learning things to prepare us for our life in Ireland. We know that life is mapped out, we accepted that a long time ago.

Life’s all about learning and facing your fears ay?

Rosie

Sunsets from my French garden in France

New Horizons Are On Their Way

24 Tuesday Nov 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Goodbyes, My home, new adventures, New Paths, People, Saying Goodbye, sunrises and sunsets, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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Sunrise in Ambrieres 24 November 2020

It’s official: we hand the keys over to the new owners of our house just before Christmas .

So Christmas as we know it is cancelled this year, no decorations (the one thing I love about Christmas). But there is a chance our son will come to visit with his friend so we will all be in a gite together, and it will be a an alternative Christmas, which will be good, not least because it will be different.

One of our lessons from living here has been to to simplify, to realise that we don’t need ‘stuff’ we just need good people around us. I read the linked post before I linked it, and it made me cry.

I have changed so much from this adventure, isn’t that what stepping outside of your comfort zone is about, to change and evolve?

So it’s busy, busy, busy. Rich is working I am packing up, and the poor animals are stressed to the max.

A new day is dawning…

Rosie

Today’s sunrise no wonder this house healed me …

Run Around Now

11 Wednesday Nov 2020

Posted by in Change is a coming, Goodbyes, My family and other furry creatures, My home, new adventures, New Paths, Saying Goodbye, sunrises and sunsets, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, Us

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So after a slow start we have all signed the Compromise de Vente. Our buyers have a cooling off period but despite this they have paid their ten per cent deposit and paid to expedite the process, so it’s looking promising. It looks as if we will be leaving our home just after Christmas, if not before. Christmas is cancelled in our house.

We had started weeks ago with regard to getting the house ready to pack, including sorting the barn…

Yep! Why?

We have been clearing out cupboards, being really mercenary with letting things go. We have learned from this adventure that you have to let go to move forward. Despite knowing this I find we have to constantly remind ourselves. So due to this I am offering my son’s beautiful cherrywood cot, that turns into a bed, for free on a giveaway site. He’s 31, I think it’s time to let it go.

On Sunday we gave away his chess set and superhero figures to our neighbours little boy. I know why I bought them over here, I have realised that ‘letting go’ is a gradual process that, if we embrace change, happens over time. I loved my old house, it was the house where my son left home from, it was a beautiful house, and I couldn’t let it all go at once. But as we learn that change brings new things into our lives, so we let go to allow room.

There is a lot to do, and RD will be working for 3 to 4 weeks of the time left. So today we got up full of good intentions, despite both of us having a bad nights sleep, to crack on with clearing the goats shed, and the cellar. But I knew that we needed to plan this huge move, and the planning had to start from today, with everything to consider: money, the process, the order of things that needed to be done, and not least in the mix were our beloved animals. They have to be jabbed: the cats to enable them to go into the cattery at least 3 days before the actual move, and they and the Welshies need to have rabies jabs at least 22 days before the move.

We had to think are we taking the cats on the boat, for twenty hours, or fly them out to us. This would mean leaving them for up to eight weeks in a cattery, and I don’t want to spend a thousand euros on that. As part of our discussions we also both said we don’t want to leave them in France when we are not here. The decision has been made, they’re coming with us.

That led onto the discussion as to room in the van, leading on to ‘do we leave our stuff over here for months, or make arrangements to collect it sooner rather than later?’

To make all these decisions we had to contact the vets for prices for the inoculations, and a storage facility in Ireland, who acted like I was mad when I asked if he required a deposit, saying very kindly ‘Oh I don’t think there’s any need for that.’ We had to look up boats and what facilities they offer for our beloved furries, and so much more.

We need to find somewhere to stay for the ten days after the move, in France we have to leave the house at least 2 days before the sale goes through, because the house has to be clean, tidy and all blemishes and marks have to be made good. It’s all part of selling your house over here. On the day we all sign the final ‘Acte de Vente’ we hand the keys over there and then. There is no going back.

I wondered if we all pontificate when it comes to moving, because of that fear of change. I think we do.

So six hours after starting planning the day was nearly gone, but the plans have been mapped out on paper, decisions have been made and tomorrow we get up at 7! Hopefully I will get a wonderful sunrise to share.

Rosie

Living In The Moment: sunny Autumn Days

23 Friday Oct 2020

Posted by in For the live of dogs, My home, poignancy, Reflections, Saying Goodbye, Simple things, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, The seasons

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I have made myself a promise, in this insane world, to give myself a little silence every day.

Here in France it is a beautiful autumn day, the sun is bright and warm, with just the occasional cloud blowing by.

So I took the time, from my what can be stressful days at the moment, and I had my tea and toast outside with the Welshies.

As I sat listening to the birds singing, and the trees sighing with resignation as the breeze took more of their leaves from them, I thought back to my first autumn here. I can remember how I would stand by my washing line and look around me in amazement that I owned the land where the huge oak trees loomed over me, and the crab apple dropped her apples loudly onto the goat shed roof. I remember walking up the chemin that was covered with a carpet of acorns and cob nuts crunching underfoot, and thinking this is mine.

But it was never mine, I never owned it, I borrowed it when I needed to heal, and it did it’s job. Now it’s time to let it go, and let someone else sit as the leaves blow by. Let someone else look down in wonder at the carpet of walnuts hiding amongst the leaves. Most years there are well over three thousand, we have given up trying to pick them all up, and we giggled the other day when we took the dogs for a walk down the lane and realised we were following a trail of walnut shells left by the squirrels. .

I will ask my neighbours if they want to collect some. If not the squirrels will be fed for the winter.

I will never tire of this view.

But one of my lessons has been it’s a view, that’s all. There will be more views.

Rosie