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Rosie’sFrenchAdventuresandIrish Shenanigans.com

~ Letting ‘Life’ show me the way.

Rosie’sFrenchAdventuresandIrish Shenanigans.com

Tag Archives: Giggles

Reminiscing: A Story From Our First Year Here. Still Makes Me Giggle.

15 Tuesday Dec 2020

Posted by RosieJoseph in laughter & giggles, Learning and Evolving, new adventures, The continuing adventure

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

at the beginning, French numbers, Giggles, laughter, Learning French

I wrote this post nearly six years ago, where had the time gone? It’s about my foray into teaching French to RD, and it’s before my book so our real names are in this one.

I read it to RD today and we both sat giggling, at 7.30 in the morning, whilst waiting for our friend with a van, most of our furniture is being taken to storage today.

I hope it makes you giggle, bless him he got the hang of it in the end.

Here’s another link

Rosie

December Sunset taken from my garden in Ambrieres les vallees France

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Laughter and giggles: Tormenting each other”

24 Saturday Aug 2019

Posted by RosieJoseph in laughter & giggles, Simple things, The adventures of living life in the French countryside, The continuing adventure, Us

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Blessings, Contentment, count your blessings, Giggles, Happiness, laughter, LIfe, Love, mimicking, Simple things, Small things, tormenting each other

My last Laughter & giggles post proved very popular so I have decided to have a section dedicated to the things that make us laugh every day.

Those who read my other Blog will know we have had our trials and tribulations, but even in the throes of them my husband’s piss-taking dry sense of humour has still made me laugh.

Even when I wanted to be really furious with him, he would make me laugh: like the time (just four months after ‘The War’) when we went to Crotoy in France. We rented bikes and rode down little narrow streets and got totally lost; with me in the lead saying ‘Oh look at that babes, I’ve never noticed that before’. When in fact we had ridden down the same road three times and even past a bloody great water tower! H proceeded to call me ‘my wife the Goldfish’.

Then there is his cheekiness, like the time when it was very hot and my visiting friend took her bra off from under her top. As she walked across the garden with drinks in her hand H shouted out ‘careful you don’t trip over them!’ My oblivious friend started to frantically look for what was going to trip her up, until she realised. – He gets used to being called a bastard, albeit through tears of laughter.

So to the current day: H has decided that every time I take a drink of my squash he is going to make loud glugging noises. Each time I start to laugh, and go ‘leave me’ in a pleading voice. But no! Each time I went back to drink my drink he did it again, so much so he could hardly do it for giggling, and I couldn’t drink because I was laughing. He was not content until I had laughed into my drink and spilt it all over me!

But I get my revenge: yesterday as he was obliviously scratching his bottom lip using his teeth I proceeded to do it back to him and he laughed and bit his lip! Revenge is sweet!

You see no matter what we go through, or have been through, we laugh every day, and for that we are blessed.

Rosie

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Hares

21 Sunday Apr 2019

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

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Boxing hares, Easter, French Countryside, French hares, ghosts, Giggles, good fortune, hares, Ireland, Spooky, spring, Sunny days, Sunny sping mornings, symbolism, Werehares, Werewolves

I love hares, perhaps it is the Irish in me, as hares are revered in Ireland, seen as a communicator with the other world of the little people: faeries and leprechauns. But I really fell in love with them when I moved to France: I was up early and driving along one of the long country lanes on a sunny morning, taking care I was driving at about thirty miles an hour when I looked out of my open car window to see a hare running along the hedgerow right beside the car, keeping up with it. It was a sight to behold, a big animal full of power, and it was at that point that my fascination, and utmost respect for hares began.

As Easter approached this week it was also a full moon, and on Friday Rich and I were up and out early, very early. Europe is experiencing really good weather and even at seven in the morning it was already twenty two degrees. The sun was shining, and France is in bloom, and as we drove down our long lane from our house we were met with the sight of two hares boxing in the middle of the road.

As we stopped and watched they ran off (or hared off as the saying goes) into the field in flight; truly, truly amazing. But that was not all: on our journey through the winding lanes of France we saw another five hares, in the fields, in the hedgerows, to the point that I turned to Rich and said ‘ it must be a hare convention!’

Hares are revered by many cultures: they represent positive change, because of their connection to spring; and new beginnings. In Ireland they are a protected species and were featured on their half pence coin until it went out of circulation. Perhaps my love for hares and the abundance of sightings is telling us that we should consider that move to Ireland after all – we are still not ruling that out. To have a hare cross your path is a sign that you will receive abundance and joy; as we have had five cross ours then I am in no doubt that is the case for us.

Rich’s business has taken off (with a small amount of help from his social media savvy and writer wifey) he has bookings into June now with more to come. My book is nearly fully edited with some additions because of the research and wonderful comments from people who follow my blog: over 40,000 views and counting. I promised my dear late friend in my last post that I would get my book out there and I will. you can read that post here I aim for it to be available in the autumn for all the people who have asked where they can buy it.

The evening before our sojourn with the hares the moon had risen full and red over the fields, and I thought back to the posts where I have said that I am  not sure if living here for me holds enough, but that I would wait and life would show me the way: it seems to be, at the moment. Later that night though Rich had an experience with the werehare!

My husband is over six feet tall and weighs over eighteen stone (I am being kind here). I went to bed with the Welshies and he went outside for his last cigarette. The moon was full and our cat Daisy was sat on our drive with wild staring eyes and her tail puffed up to four times its normal size. Rich spooks easily with regard to anything unexplained or supernatural; so he looked at Daisy and realised something was wrong. Then he heard a noise of something very large snuffling behind our hedge; he turned to Daisy and said ‘what the f**k is that?’ Daisy responded by high-tailing it indoors. On the sound of Rich’s voice whatever it was ran across the garden quickly and loudly, and Rich could hear something heavy stomping on the oak logs. With that he high tailed it indoors, made sure all the cats were inside and locked the door. (He is so brave!)

When he came to bed he told me the story; I was just glad that Wiglet the serial killer had not been out there as chaos would have ensued. Rich was clearly spooked and proceeded to build up a pile of pillows down the side of the bed by the door to stop any ‘ghosts’ getting him in the night (didn’t realise that pillows were a ghost deterrent!) We then discussed that it could have been a deer or a wild boar, or even a fox but that seemed unlikely with the dogs scent. Neither of us thought that it may have been a hare, moonwatching from the pinnacle of the hill on which our house is perched.

As I turned off the lights I then said ‘it could have been a werefwolf, it is a full moon!’ To which my husband replied in a wail ‘Why would you say that man? Stop trying to frighten me!’ I giggled and said ‘well we are in the middle of nowhere, perhaps all the neighbours are werewolves and we are living in the midst of a werewolf colony!’

Rich then shut the door!

So the next morning when we saw all the hares I realised it was probably a hare, or as I said to Rich: ‘perhaps it was a werehare!’

I am sorry I have been absent from Mois French Adventure, folks but I will be sharing some more posts with you this week, but I know you understand that the book has taken priority.

Have a wonderful Easter weekend.

Moisy

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Laughter & giggles

31 Sunday Mar 2019

Posted by RosieJoseph in People, Simple things, The continuing adventure, The good life, Us

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

Giggles, grammar, Happiness, laughter, learning English, Learning French, madness, mimicking, pulling faces, Simple things, Tears of laughter, Us

One of biggest things that I love about my husband is that he makes me laugh every day. So this weekend I thought I would share some of this part of our life with you.

I have shared that this winter was difficult, but it didn’t stop us laughing: from Rich mimicking me whenever he could: I now hear myself say oh! Before a sentence or asking for something; because he would mimic me and what I had said whenever I did it: ‘boh! Bring my iPad down babes! Or ‘boh. Turn the water in babes!’ As I hear myself say it now I start giggling, whether he is here or not.

Then there are the times I lift something heavy: I didn’t realise that I puff my face out as I do it, like a determined puffer fish until I looked at Rich the other end of whatever we are lifting pulling the same face back at me. Then I start laughing, nearly always drop what I am lifting and end up calling him a bastard!

But I get my revenge: so here is a recent story of my escapades into trying to teach Rich some French:

We are sat on or respective sofa’s when I say to Rich ‘I was thinking to really get to grips with another language you need to understand verbs, adjectives and nouns.’ (Rich never excelled in English grammar, he couldn’t see the point.)

Rich now looks at me suspiciously, but I carry on: ‘Because the French put their adjective after the noun, where we put our adjective in front of the noun, and I think that confuses you.’ Rich looks at me and says ‘whats an adjective?’

Me:’It’s a word that describes a noun. For example the black table. What’s the adjective?’

Rich:’Table’

Me:’No that’s the noun.’

Rich:’What’s a noun?’

Me:’The name of something: Tree, Fire, Dog’. (I’m looking around the living room for inspiration) ‘So the black table, what’s the noun?’

Rich:’The’

Me:’Table, table, table, for fucks sake I just told you.’ Rich starts giggling nervously. But I wasn’t giving up (although I think that’s what he wanted)

Me: ‘So the black table: what’s the noun?’

Rich:’Table’ (yey)

Me: So what’s the adjective?

Rich: ‘The’ (Oh for fucks sake!)

Me (I’m starting to stifle a giggle now) ‘The, the the! What does ‘the’ describe?’

Rich:’The table’

Me: ‘If an adjective is a word that describes the noun how can it be the? What is describing the table?’

Rich: (desperately trying to work out what he has not said) ‘black’

Me: By now I am talking in a very high pitched voice trying not to laugh’ Yes! So if we put our adjective before our noun, what is an adjective?’

Rich:’Table’

Me: (rolling up with high pitched laughter) ‘I give up! I haven’t even got to French yet! You can’t speak English you’ve got no hope with French!’

So moving on to Friday night: I’m cooking the ‘Friday Night Kebab’ with my back to the kitchen. We’re jimbied up (got our pyjamas on), hubby’s milling round the kitchen. Suddenly I hear what sounds like a bumble bee on steroids: I turn to look and see my husband spinning round the kitchen, whilst blowing a continuous raspberry, and spinning either end of his dressing gown belt around. I started to giggle:

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m a helicopter’

‘Are you really!’

He’s 56 this year!

And that’s why I love him.

Moisy

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