Tag Archives: Friends

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

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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

Two Christmas’s

25 Wednesday Dec 2019

Posted by in Friends, Galavanting, laughter & giggles, My family and other furry creatures, People, Simple things, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, The seasons

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It’s been a whirlwind few days after our son Tom surprised us on Saturday. We have tried to cram so much into three days, because he had already committed to going to my sisters house for Christmas day, and it was only right that he fulfilled that commitment.

We decided to have two Christmas’s one with them and one on the day.

On the Saturday we went out to visit someone who has been nothing but kind to us. She is alone and for me Christmas is about understanding and giving something other than gifts: time. We had already arranged to visit her, and Tom and Chris (the boys) volunteered to come with us. Trundling into the back of RD’s van (totally illegal!) and moaning about their arses hurting them.

When we arrived these two young men were so polite and kind, even sorting out some technical stuff for her on her computer. I was so proud of them both: another gift.

We then took a detour to the medieval city of Domfront, with its beautiful lights, and had a few drinks in a quintessential French tabac. The weather was awful, but it couldn’t damp our spirits.

It’s strange how we can all revert back to being ‘mum and dad’ with our kids. Tom has a good job, lives in Newcastle, contacts me when he wants and needs to, and I pretty much leave him to his own devices. He is an adult I am not an ‘over motherer’. I had him to live his life. But on Saturday they went out late and drove to a town near us to see if any bars were open. We didn’t go, we would have ‘cramped their style’, and also we were knackered! But they said they were coming back for chicken burgers and we waited up for them, knowing the bars in France do not stay open late. But when they hadn’t come back by 1am we started to worry, wtf! I looked at RD and we both started to laugh, because he felt the same. Our son looks after himself in Newcastle all the time, and we never worry, yet as soon as he comes over to us we become worried parents. I gave in and rang him. A very pissed Tom rang me back from a house in Lassay, they had been invited by some French girls they had met in a bar (nothing changes!) Tom thought it was hilarious that his mum was ringing him. I cooked the chicken burgers and left them out for them. When we got up the next morning they had obviously cooked chips, because they were everywhere. Nothing changes!

We visited Mayenne on the Sunday, where Christmas activities were taking place, and had mulled wine and hot chocolate.

When we got home we had an alternative Christmas dinner, of roast lamb and all the trimmings.

Followed by an evening in front of the fire and TV. Bless Chris he had driven for over ten hours to get Tom to us, so that was him!

On Monday we went shopping, I cannot begin to tell you the amount of wine and cheese they bought! We played Monopoly, and ate spaghetti Bolognaise very very late.

It was a joy to see RD with them. I realised just how much he misses the banter of being around men. They always used to love tormenting RD, but they never won, he always got them in the end, and nothing changes. I love this video, it sums these few days up.

https://www.facebook.com/moira.swindell/videos/2869801423030602/

It was all going too fast, and Tuesday came too quickly. Very early in the morning, in the dark before dawn, we hugged them goodbye. Am I crying now? Of course I am.

So it’s Christmas day, and we are still in bed, even the Welshies are worn out from the whirlwind of fun.

We will have our traditional turkey dinner, and have a very quiet day. But we will have the greatest gift of all: memories.

Have a mellow Christmas folks.

Rosie

The best Christmas Present ever

22 Sunday Dec 2019

Posted by in Friends, My family and other furry creatures, People, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, The good life

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A quick post, more to come. Our son’s birthday is on Christmas Eve. The plan was that he would come out and spend Christmas with us this year; but flights were too expensive, everything was too expensive and despite all our efforts we all agreed it wasn’t possible. Yes I was disappointed, we haven’t seen him for two year, but as you know I am also philosophical and I did not want him to start the New Year with debt because of a trip to see us.

He was disappointed because he is thirty this year, a milestone birthday. But I put a brave face on it, we planned to put some money into his account and were going to call him at my sisters house on his birthday. I ordered his birthday card from Moonpig on Friday to be delivered to my sisters house so that it would be waiting for him when he got there.

Yesterday we had a lay in, and got up at ten. We were meant to be out and about early but something stopped us, and as we sat in our wingback chairs in the window, and I chatted to my sister on the phone, I heard the gate go, and the dogs started to bark. Still in my jymbies I stood up to see who it was, and saw my son standing in my garden looking at me. (I have tears in my eyes now!) I couldn’t believe it, and found myself in denial, with my brain telling me he couldn’t have got here. (Any train or plane would have meant someone would have to collect him). All was explained when in walked his friend Chris, who we haven’t seen for five years! Every Christmas for many years he would spend Christmas evening at our house, eating and playing Monopoly (a Christmas tradition.) and he has often said how he misses us.

I cried, RD cried. What a fabulous surprise. Tom (Ethan) had been travelling for over twenty-four hours, Chris pretty much the same. For the love of us. That is what Christmas is about.

So much more to tell you, but have to go and make more memories.

Just a little tantaliser here we are stuffing our faces with bread, cheese and wine. Happy days.

Rosie

Serendipity: Someone was looking out for us

16 Monday Dec 2019

Posted by in a sense of community, Friends, Learning and Evolving, People, serendipity, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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As always life shows you the way. I do have a strong belief in that. Some people struggle with it, because sometimes life shows us a way that we don’t want to go. But my belief is strong now: ‘someone else is doing the driving’, to quote the late great M Scott Peck.

Serendipity is my favourite word, and I have written about it in some of my previous posts , really it is associated with fortuitous events but I am not going to take its literal meaning today, I am going to look at it in a different way:

Our French friends are very ‘handy’, it is clear that they can turn their hands to most anything and that includes cars. In fact one of them was a mechanic before he retired. RD suggested that he ask them about replacing the tyres (pneau in French) on our van, and about the rattle we have had for the best part of this year. RD had already asked someone else (an English person) who had said it was the brake discs because the pads needed replacing. Asking our French friends was a learning curve as they looked at RD as if he were mad because he was asking about a cameon (van) and they were not aware we had a van. So a conversation ensued about RD having a van and where was it! It transpires that small vans such as ours are classed as cars over here, no wonder people have been looking at us like weirdoes when we tell them we have a van!

As most of you know money is tight and at this time of year especially; so RD just thought they may suggest something for January. But no! Immediately they were there to help, there is no waiting over here, and Saturday morning RD was at Cheeky’s (our nickname we use for him) with the van being inspected. Now this is where serendipity stepped in:

The rattling noise from the van, that we have been driving all over north west France in, was in fact a loose screw on the drive shaft! At any moment it could have come away as we merried along the winding roads of France, and killed us! Now some would see that as bad luck not good. It depends on how you look at things I suppose, I believe serendipity stepped in: The French took over, made us take the van to Cheeky’s house and found the real culprit.

But it didn’t end there our tyres were in fact dangerous and this morning RD is in Mayenne, with the assistance of cheeky, sorting out the tyres. No we cannot afford them, but we cannot afford to wait either; our French friends have said they need to be done NOW and at one point on Saturday they weren’t going to let RD take the van home. When RD came home he was worried about our budget, but we both looked at each other and said ‘That’s life showing us the way!’

Now RD has called to say that the tyres and break pads have been done, and Cheeky will not take any payment for the work. He has told RD No: because we are their friends. Now that is life showing us the way.

You just have to listen, even when you don’t want to hear. What we need will come to us. I believe.

Rosie

Le Soiree part II: It all went well

14 Saturday Dec 2019

Posted by in a sense of community, Food in France, Friends, laughter & giggles, My home, People, Recipes, The continuing adventure

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We had a lovely evening, just as everyone predicted we would. Our French friends loved our decorations and how we had arranged our house. It is common here to sit at a table rather than comfy seating, and when they saw a little seating area in the window, where we sit so often looking out at the view they were enamoured.

I made canapés with a lovely tuna ready made mix that I found in a local supermarket (good old Aldi) I added some fish eggs and cucumber and the women of our group loved it. Cucumber is not often served here and I explained that in the UK it is very popular.Nadia and Martine loved it but Marc and Michelle were mot so keen. But the tuna was very popular, I was chuffed when they asked where to buy it.

The other plate is canapés of cream cheese, salmon and fish eggs, again very popular. But the most popular were good old cheddar cheese and silver-skin onions on cocktail sticks. So seventies!

I also did a few canapés Anglais, with cream cheese and marmite all for our friend Virginie, she and I have decided that she has English blood as she loves all English food.

When I moved over here I brought with me some expensive beautiful clothes, you know the type: you ones you always aim to get back in to one day! But over the past few months I have let so much go, and realised they were too beautiful to languish in my cupboards. Last night I showed them to Nadia and asked if she would like them. Bless her she tried them on and looked stunning. I rescued my Karen Millen vintage jacket from the wardrobe and she loved it.

I would rather give such beautiful things to a lovely person such as her than sell them to people who will want them for nothing. I am so pleased she liked them, it made my night.

I love our friends, we had an evening of sparkling wine and whiskey (traditionally French), good chat snd lots of laughs as always. It reminded me again that I shouldn’t let the language get to me, I can speak some French, and when with good friends language no barrier. I am not ready to leave yet.

I am tired now, and allowing myself a weekend off. Why Not? My house is sparkling, so here is to an afternoon of embroidery and writing. Perfect.

Rosie

The Soiree part I: A little apprehensive

12 Thursday Dec 2019

Posted by in a sense of community, Food in France, My home, People, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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It’s been busy over this last week.

RD and I decided that we should invite our friends, neighbours and the ‘Man who can turn his hand to anything’ Pascal and his family, for a soirĂ©e to say thank you for all their help over the past few months. What with the cherry tree that had to be felled, then cut up and transported from one side of our garden to another, to the huge problems with our cess pit that they all helped us resolve, we would have really struggled without the help of all these kind people.

The soirée is set for tomorrow, and I am worried. Our house still has a lot of renovations that are needed, but as I write this I know these people will not judge. They are people who have lived in rural France all their lives, they understand the struggle and I have never felt anything other than they take us as we are.

However French people do like cleanliness, perhaps it is living in this rural part of France: you have to keep on top of things. Now I am back to being me I am also getting on top of things: I have deep cleaned our kitchen this week (and I mean deep cleaned, mixing up a bicarb and bleach mix to wash away the mould that still invades it at times.) Cleaned out cupboards draws (why do we keep the crap that we keep?!) climbed step ladders to get to places that are never seen (but oh my Lordy! The dirt in those places!) washed lights and so much more. It is only when something looks really clean that you notice the places you have missed!

Our ceiling in our kitchen has only been sealed this year, our plan is to paint it white, but we have run out of time, so half of the kitchen is painted and the other half, well! It’s a work in progress, with the electrics to do and so on. So now one half just looks incredibly skanky, highlighting the passage of water that poured in when we had hardly any roof for three years. But only this week an unexpected parcel arrived from England, something handmade by the lovely Mary. So sod how the ceiling looks, I will count my blessings that we have a roof and out up my gift as a welcome for our French friends.

It is always the small things, the gestures with no agenda, that count. Thank you Mary. ❤️

But with regard to the soirĂ©e it is the food that is worrying me. We have some friends who are traditionally French, so for them I have the cherry tomatoes, olives, small hot dog sausages (or knackers as they are known out here – which is always make RD and I giggle: given the alternative meaning for knackers in England!) and gherkins. But some of the others like to try something different so for them I have English cocktail sausages, pigs in blankets, celery with cream cheese, silverskin onions, cheddar cheese cubes, Doritos, dips, crisps, both French and English in flavour. I am also going to try my hand at making some canapes, with a mixture of cream cheese and salmon roe (the French do love their fish) and some cream cheese and marmite, because our friends live marmite!

I have some ice creams but also mince pies (we are English it has to be done at Christmas time) We also have a traditional box of sweets that can be found in most households in England at Christmas. But I am worried, will they like it, and will it be enough?

Then I am worried about how we will fit them in, we have to bring our trestle table in, and move some furniture around, will we have enough chairs and will we have enough space for the chairs. RD is sorting the Wii for the kids (and probably the big male kids as RD and Garenne do like to compete!)

I have to admit, I am apprehensive….

But we have to do it, don’t we?

I am off to do the prison task of cleaning my chandelier.

Rosie

Taking things in your stride, a sense of community, and merde!

21 Monday Oct 2019

Posted by in Change is a coming, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, The good, the bad and the ugly.

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One of the things I love about living here are the lessons we have been taught with regard to the way we look at life, and the strong sense of community that French people have in rural France. This last week and especially today have been no exception.

A week ago I noticed a problem with our toilet, it was not flushing and I could hear water running in the cellar. Further investigation showed that we had a problem, and when he got home from work, R/D (he has two names so this is what I am going to call him now! ) concluded that we had a blockage.

We knew that our cesspit was due to be emptied and hoped it would wait until the end of the month because after being let down with a job we were unable to get the ball moving (or the crap on it’s way) until funds were available at the end of the week.

So all week we have been weeing in the garden (in the pouring down of rain) with the dogs looking at me as if I had grown another head! Visits to the public toilets were clearly de rigour for anything else. I even made up a poo bag of rubber gloves, wet wipes, and toilet roll! In fact yesterday as R/D and I went for our afternoon poo, and sat in adjacent stalls (unisex toilets here in France!) I found myself laughing as I called out to R/D ‘living the dream!’

That is the thing for us: we have learned so much. If you had told me years ago that I could live without a roof, water, and now a loo, I would have thought you were mad. But we have lived without all those things, and yet here we are still here. We have not died, we have not suffered, but here in our community we are not judged. And I believe that is the key.

Last week I looked at R/D one evening and said ‘I am not worrying about the loo, because I know it will be resolved in the end.’ We have learned patience, and to not stress about something if you cannot change it. That eventually what you need will come, when the time is right and not when you make it.

We did try to resolve the blockage over the week, hoping that we could hold on to the end of the month to have the cess emptied: we have used shampoo, washing up liquid, drain un-blocker, stronger drain un-blocker, a spiral spring, and a super duper Luigi plunger, but nothing was shifting it!

Once we had money in our pockets I visited our friend and neighbour Mark, for assistance, and literally at 10am this morning the tractor arrived! But after emptying the cess nothing happened, and the loo was still blocked, and despite working on the chambers for over an hour they eventually called the fabulous Pascal, (who I think can do mostly anything) who arrived toute suite. He could speak a little English, I can speak a little French. He looked at our antiquated cess, and asked me about the pipes and lo: they were off! Trying to solve the problem. All these people just trying to help us. It has not been a simple job, they are still here now, over four hours later, covered in crap, literally!

We now have a completely new cess pipe, because the other one was just full of a compacted wall of merde. We found that out when poor Pascale cut into the pipe and it poured out over his head! Marc and R/D laughed!

Here they all are with the lorry in tow, because it appears our cess has a pipe that leads out to the ditch. It is an air pipe, it creates the suction that makes the cess work, and it was blocked by years of mud, and our pine tree, and was in fact a major contributing factor to our problem.

It has to be cleared, and they are still all here, and the tractor is on it’s way…..

This is what I love about France, these people are helping us, using their time, with no questions. England, and even the majority if the English community, is not like that over here; and since starting this adventure there have been times when I am ashamed if my countrymen.

Marc and Nadia, Michelle and Martigne, all the wonderful French people we have met have been nothing but wonderful to us. But we have been reserved at times, have been afraid to approach them and we must have come off as bloody stand offish at times! Our lesson from all of this has been to stop being afraid of not speaking the language and integrate, that is the only way to do it.

Our lesson has been to join the community, so watch this space we will be.

More to come this week.

Rosie

A feeling of disbelief and incredible sadness

14 Monday Oct 2019

Posted by in For the live of dogs, Friends, My family and other furry creatures, The continuing adventure

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Last year I shared a series of posts from our wonderful, crazy summer, with our friend Karen and her naughty little bundle of mischief Dylly Dyls, the puppy Welsh Terrier that had joined Karen’s life the year before. Karen blogged about the antics of Princess Wiglet and Dylan, they were best buddies, on her blog Dylans Welshie world.

We celebrated birthdays, and the world cup, hosted here in France, and the dogs had a summer of chasing each other, swimming in the pool, playing tuggies with mops (Dylan’s favourite toy in all the world) and Dylan loved riding on the lawn mower with uncle Richard, with whom she celebrated her first birthday on the same day.

The catchphrase of the simmer was ‘Dylan what have you got in your mouth.’ That puppy loved to pick Up everything, and I mean everything up in her mouth, and run with it. Sticks, socks, pants, phones, lighters, packets, you name it. Dylan was a one year old bundle of mischief.

Punctuated within all of this fun and frolic was lots of sleeping, as you do, wherever you fall.

But as autumn drew in things changed and Dylan had a new family. By the late spring she and her mum were off on a new adventure: to live in Spain with her new family and new baby sister, who although a pup was five times bigger than her. But that didn’t deter Dilly Dilly, oh no! She was top dog, and shouted at everyone as they swam in the pool. She spent hours with lots of other dogs, and life was the best.

Dylan was my friends baby, she saved her at a time when so much had changed. Along came this little, fat tempestuous puppy, who was nearly named Chubster, and she gave Karen’s life new meaning and form; and as dogs always do she gave her unconditional love, and taught Karen about giving love, and allowing herself to be vulnerable.

Last Thursday Dylan and her sister pulled down a bin bag that her loving parents thought had been put out of reach. When they were found Dylan had eaten chicken bones, and despite Karen’s determined attempts, the little bugger swallowed them. They perforated her intestines and Dylan collapsed. She was rushed to the vets where Karen pleaded with them to do all they can. But sadly Dylan died in Karen’s arms. Karen could not bring herself to tell us until yesterday, she believed that if she wrote it down it would make it real.

We spoke today, both cried together, I am still crying now. Karen? She is lost, and distraught, and caught in the grip of despair. I wrote years ago about how Harley nearly died, and how a guardian angel saved his life. That angel was Karen, Harley would not be here if it were not for her. What do you say to the person who saved your dog, but nothing could be done to save theirs? Where do you begin? Just listen I suppose, which I will always do. We feel so powerless, so weak, there are no words that can offer comfort.

Dylan had the most adventurous life in her two years of life. She spent a summer with us in France, lived in England, lived in Spain, swam in pools, met new dogs, and made people fall in love with her wherever she went. She persuaded uncle Richard to squirt cream directly into her mouth, chased cats, pulled cupboards down, and had me running after her as she ran straight into our French neighbours house. She took on cows, and sometimes Harley and Wiglet. She was such a little bugger.

She left too soon, there is nothing more to be said. But she taught us all so much, and will leave a lasting legacy, and so many memories.

I am writing this in homage of Dylan for my friend. There is nothing more I can do.

Farewell Dylan, run free on rainbow bridge my darling.

Auntie Moira

Partying Francais style

25 Saturday May 2019

Posted by in Food in France, Friends, People, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure

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Some of my readers may remember the big birthday party that we went to last year: it lasted two days!

You can read about it here

So really when we were invited to our friends and neighbours house yesterday we should have known better than to think we would only be there the two hours that etiquette dictates for aperitifs. We left our doors open, the Welshies bounding around the garden, didn’t feed any of the cats, and off we went. We don’t know what time we got home!

The evening started sedately with dainty morsels to eat, whisky for Richard and a fruity drink for the ladies. We had taken over some prawn cocktail crisps for Manon, Marc’s niece, she love fish & chips so we thought she would like to try a flavour of crisps that is popular in the UK. (Just an aside: in England chips are called crisps and fries are called chips, but if they are thin then they are called fries. Confused, you will be!)

Anyhow back to my story of how we are slowly introducing our French friends to English food: we took two packets and then Rich went back for more. With the exception of about three people there they were a resounding success. So we upped the anti: If you look in the photo above you will see a black and yellow jar which is a jar of marmite. Rich bought that back over with him as well and proceeded to spread it on the prawn cocktail crisps and feed them to our French friends, They loved them, well some loved them, some pulled the face so many pull when they try marmite for the first time! The marmite fest was under way, they spread it on cheese, various types and it was a success. All this time Marc was constantly topping up everyone’s glasses: rose wine for me and whisky for Rich.

A marmite eating contest ensued, which Rich obviously won because he is used to it. The poor Frenchman put too much in his mouth in one go and ended up with marmite all over his beard. (We’re still giggling about that this morning).

As the drink flowed music was found and I found myself in a surreal moment as I danced to YMCA with a room full of French people, with my husband standing the other side of the table leading the dance moves. It’s fair to say we were pretty pissed by then!

It is one of the things of this adventure that we are so blessed with our friends and neighbours that we have: all French, all supportive, they have welcomed us into their lives and family parties and we know that it is an honour that they have. Just another reason for taking that chance and having that adventure.

Moisy

A reminder:

08 Monday Apr 2019

Posted by in Friends, People, Reflections

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I do truly believe that life shows you the way. I know that some people will roll their eyes, but have you ever considered that for all the planning you do, for all the organising and lists and preparation for the future does it work out as you planned? Ever?

So with this in mind I want to write about my dear friend Rod Clarricoats. In January when I wrote my blog I said how a dear friend had been immediately there for me. ( read here ) I said how this person was an old friend the type that is just there in the background. I had not spoken directly to Rod for over thirty years, but he found me on FB many years ago and when I needed him, without prompting, he messaged me at a dark time. That was Rod: always there for you when you needed him, always kind.

I have said in  my post how he made me think about where I was and how lucky I was, and when I told him he was always a kind bugger he responded by saying that he was a now ‘a kind old bugger.’ He was the same age as me: fifty six.

We messaged each other a  few more times in February and he asked about the campsite I was thinking of setting up: and told me that he would be in France this summer and if he could he would come to visit.

Yesterday I found out through FaceBook that Rod died on Friday morning. I am ashamed to say that I had not seen his post on Facebook: a meme about not letting cancer win. From what his family have written Rod acquired an infection and died quickly. I was so shocked.

He had never told me that he was ill, he had still simply been there for me all these years later and now he was gone.

Years ago when we were at college together, and going to Soul Weekenders in Essex in England, Rod was one of my bestest friends: when my heart was broken he would pick me up and take me out; and even when I moved to Wolverhampton with my future husband (not the one I have now) he would visit my mum; sometimes being a bugger and taking a different girl each time! Over time we lost touch, our lives took different paths and Rod moved to Wales with his family. From his posts on Facebook he was a happy man, blessed with a loving family.

We met at college: we were never an item but I know that one of the things he loved about me was my strength of character. It was the beginning of the eightees so there we would be in our two tone jeans. I can remember arriving at college one day as the older year had finished their exams and leaving and there was Rod: with all his friends in the thick of it throwing flour, and shaving foam. As it progressed they bought eggs and cornered my dear friend Aud and I in the ‘girls’ loos and decided to ‘make us into a cake!’ Don’t get me wrong we had given as good as we got! I also remember my broken heart and Rod taking me and Aud to the pub on a Sunday night; and telling the said perpetrator of my broken heart to ‘sod off’ because he wouldn’t leave me alone. That was Rod!

So I am writing this post because Rod has reminded me (as he did in January) that you have to make the most of life; because you never know what it has planned for you.  I have many jobs to do around the house but I need to write and get my book out there. I feel that urgent need now because life really is too short.  With life showing me the way from the messages and contacts about what I have written it is important to help others in times of difficulty. I will dedicate my book to Rod.

I have cried for a man that I hadn’t seen in thirty years, and I am crying now, because I realise that I have lost one of the good people who have been in my life. If he were here he would tell me to shut up and get on with it, whilst giving me cuddle at the same time.

So Rod: you’ve inspired me to get this done. Thank you my friend.

Au revoir (because I know we will meet again one day.)

Moisy

freindship for Rod