A few years ago I wrote a series of blogs about counting my blessings over the Christmas period. It was as always a hard winter in France and Christmas was a very pared down affair, although that was, and will continue to be, a good thing in this house. The simplicity of our Christmas enabled me to see the small simple blessings like a cup of tea in the morning.
Fast forward to current times and Monday night just gone, as I lay in my new bed absolutely exhausted after sleeping on the floor for 2 nights. As I lay there I realised how blessed I was to have a bed, and my thoughts led me to think of how if I had to sleep on the floor for an indefinite amount of nights my health would definitely be affected. And I felt blessed, and I said thank you to ‘life’ for giving me the abilities and the tenacity to be in this position.
I found my eyes filling with tears when I thought of all the people sleeping on the floor, from older people to street children, and all those in-between, and I felt humbled.
Moisy
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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
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We have lived here in Ireland just over a month now. Even though we arrived on the 31st given the Journey we had we technically didn’t start living here until the 1st of January, and how time has flown what with all the things we have had to, and still are, sorting out. So much so that I have not given myself that ‘time out’ that I need to ground myself again.
I can be quite driven (I may have mentioned that before) it is one of the things that made me ill years ago, and despite having many processes available to me to slow myself down, like journalling, and reading Mark Nepo or M Scott Peck, or Byron Katie and many more, or allow myself time to just sit and embroider, the urge to create our ‘new life’ has overtaken me and I haven’t done nearly as much of that as I should.
We do take the dogs out every day, and the beautiful scenery around me and watching Harley turn into a puppy again when he hits the beach and Wiglet turn into King Canute, barking at the waves has been a joy; but it still hasn’t stopped my ‘drive’ and I am acutely aware that I need to reign it in or I won’t be able to give myself space to understand what we really need.
Welshies loving The Wild Atlantic Way in Donegal
Yesterday we were busy still trying to open a bank account (ID in any country is just a nightmare, it really is a ‘computer says know’ thing), ordering essentials for our new life, and shopping, when I realised when I got home after a busy day that I was spending too much time watching TV, or searching the internet for information that we needed, and hadn’t been giving myself that ‘time out’ that we all need.
January on The Wild Atlantic Way Donegal
So today I said to RD that I am having a spiritual day: reading Mark Nepo, blogging, reading last Saturday’s newspapers, doing some embroidery staying off searching the internet for ‘stuff.’ My brain needs a time out from trying to control my new life, and thereby allowing my new life to come to me.
So we are off for our hours walk down to the beach, the fire is already lit, and Mark Nepo is waiting to be read. And RD has decided to join me.
Beautiful Donegal Ireland
It’s so easy to be driven, especially when you’re trying to set up a new life and your thinking of the million things you need to do, so I am reminding myself today that what will be will be, and to live in the moment.
This will be my next writer to read.
Rosie
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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
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We arrived at 2am on New Years Day. Moving countries is exhausting, as someone said ‘You do like a big move don’t you?
Well if you’re going to have an adventure you may as well make it a big one!
I have lots to write about, but right now I have to take the dogs out as we cannot let them run free. So I thought I would share with you photos from our ten minute walk to the beach yesterday….breathtaking
The beach, surrounded by snow topped mountains The Wild Atlantic WayWe’re going on this beach todayThe Walk Down To The BeachWe Are Surrounded By This Mountain View RD walking into the clouds Sunset On The Beach In Beautiful Donegal A Happy Man
I think it’s fair to say, I have a knack for finding a view! But that’s not hard on the beautiful emerald Isle.
Rosie
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For me the best part of Christmas has been putting the Christmas decorations up. This year, due to our big move that’s not possible, so thought I would share some from the past 5 years.
Christmas 2017 Two Trees That YearThe Only Real Tree We Ever Had 2017 The Year Tom First Came To Visit Mt Dickensian Garland Christmas 2017Christmas: It’s Good To Be Home Our Last Christmas 2019Nothing Decorates Like Nature December 2015. Our First Christmas In France The View From Our Bedroom WindowDecember 2015December 2016 The Hoarfrost Literally Blew Me Away. It Was Like Walking In NarniaOur Home Made Deco Christmas 2018Christmas 2018Christmas Garland 2019Twenty Years Old and Will Be Up Next Year In Ireland
And finally some photos of that fabulous Hoar frost, what a privilege it was to experience that phenomenon.
Mellow Christmas Folks
Rosie
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I often write this blog on a Sunday morning/afternoon as we sit in bed having our fourth cup of tea, snuggling with the Welshies. It is one of our treasured moments, a simple thing, counting our blessings.
We have been mega busy dismantling our home, and today will be the last Sunday that we will have the opportunity to do this in this home. The weather has lent itself kindly to us doing this given that the rain is pouring down, and every now and then a spurt of wind whips around this hose on the hill.
Once I get up my sparkling lights will be taken down, and off the bed.
Our Bedroom, a place of sanctuary
The 1860’s French dressing table will be emptied, ready for the remainder of our furniture to be moved on Tuesday.
Our Antique French Dressing Table lovingly painted by me.
This bedroom will no longer feel like ours, and this time next week we will be moving to a gite in anticipation of handing the keys to our house over the week after.
One of the lessons we have learned as part of this adventure is that we make our homes, it is RD and I who create them, and make them into places where people like to come, because they are welcomed.
I know I will create a new one, in some ways I am looking forward to it, but I started this blog all those years ago to encourage people to step outside of their comfort zones, to broaden their horizons, and to not be afraid of doing so. So I am writing about this move because yes, it is scary, yes it is poignant, yes you can recreate again, but yes you should live in each moment.
I asked RD the other day if he felt afraid, he said ‘Yes’.
Despite it all we know we are doing the right thing. Life has showed us that over and over. But right now we are procrastinating, or perhaps just treasuring this moment because we know it will never come again.
Rosie
December Sunset Montaigu Ambrieres les vallees 2020
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Anyone who follows this blog knows that I have always loved the sunrises over the valley. I have shared them often with you, the photo above is todays sunrise and I promised more in one of my recent posts, I hadn’t forgotten.
At this time of year the winds can whip up quickly in the valleys, but despite their ferocity at times I have always loved laying in bed with my beloved husband and Welshies and listen to them whooshing around the house. and more than anything I love to hear the rain hitting the drawn down shutters. I lay in bed with all my blessings around me and I listen to that rain and I feel safe, and blessed to have shelter. It is a small thing to some, but living here listening to that calming sound has made me understand that it’s not a small thing, it’s the thing that people search for: a home, safety, love.
This week we were reminded again, to live in the here and now. Harley has been a little off colour over the past few weeks, and I noticed he was drinking more, and he had some accidents in the house. On Friday he literally wet himself in front of us, so I took him to the vet on Saturday morning. The outcome was that they wanted to test him for ‘Cushings’ disease. Of course I had already looked up possibilities of what could be wrong with him, and I knew that this possible outcome was not good. Harley is nine now, and I want him to live forever (tears in my eyes now.)
We booked the test for today, and we cried all day on Saturday, and I just kept saying my mantra ‘here and now, here and now’ over and over again.
I joined numerous Facebook groups to ask for advice. The outpouring of support from those sites, and our wonder Welsh Terrier Fan Club site was overwhelming. In these difficult times it was a joy to know that people are still good people, it appears thats especially where our beloved animals are concerned.
Our vet is a lovely vet, but he is an agricultural vet primarily and after much discussion, taking into account that many people who have had to deal with this disease advised to have his urine tested in a lab and a culture grown, that we are moving to Ireland in ten weeks approx, the complexity of dealing with the disease (if he has it) and the complexity of diagnosis (get it wrong and give him the meds with terrible side effects and it could kill him), and that he would have to be monitored we decided not to go ahead with the test. We feel that for now we have made the right choice. It would appear that Harley does too, as he has stopped drinking as much and has perked right up.
So that will be something to keep my eye on, because we have approximately forty days before we have to leave this house, and there is still so much to do.
A bientot.
Rosie
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Selling houses is stressful, there is no doubt about that. But more of that on future blogs. Just to say the Compromise de Vente (which means a commitment to sale) has finally been signed by our buyers, and we are due to sign next week. There will then be a ten day cooling off period for the buyers, fingers crossed it all goes well.
Due to the stresses it has been easy to forget that we only ever live in the here and now. So last week as RD and I sat in the garden in some bright autumn sunshine, I reminded him that we should make the most of our impromptu tea break because when we go to Ireland we are both going back to work, which means the time for impromptu tea breaks on any day will be gone. That we should treasure how much time we get to spend with the Welshies, because we won’t have as much time as this in the future.
Later in the week we lit our garden fire, and took two of our garden chairs to just ‘sit’ and watch the flames. We are both in the frame of mind that we just want to leave France now, but we should treasure the moments when we sit under some of our majestic oaks, with the dogs, and enjoy the peace and solitude that you can only find in nature.
Today we were invited to our lovely neighbours Manu and Lucie, for aperitif. We spent a couple of hours with them, playing drafts with the chess set we retrieved from our barn, a gift to our son many years ago and never touched. Trying to teach them,and us,chess with the language barrier was just too great! Their eight year old son loved it, and a relaxed fun couple of hours was had.
RD has been struggling with everything that’s been going on, but when we returned he said ‘that has really lifted me, today,’ I looked at him and said ‘That’s what I mean about living in the here and now, we give so much focusing on what we want in the future we fail to see what we have now. We let it go, and we stop enjoying it.’ RD looked at me and said ‘I understand.’
Happy Sunday folks
Rosie
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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
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