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
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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
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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
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My faithful followers of this blog may have noticed a distinct lack of blogging recently. There have been a number of reasons:
That I have been disenchanted with life (mainly people in it); that I have come to realise that I will have to lower my integrity towards people to survive, because I know that some people will take joy (sadly yes) if they read what I am going to write; and I have had to consider whether I was going to give them that joy; and mainly because I know that people love my positivity and I have felt very negative due to experiences since living here, that have now come to a head in the last couple of months.
I have come to realise that I have always tried to look at the positives to such a degree that I have not considered the negatives; and perhaps now I need to.
For the first time in a long time I wrote in my journal, and I reflected on our life here and realised that whilst I always try to look at the positive was I ignoring what life was showing me, by not acknowledging the negative as well? Our well ran dry, our water heater was not working properly, resulting in a huuuuuge bill, our roof blew off, our truck engine seized (despite being only 6 years old), work had been difficult and my! Have we had some humdinger employers! And many other things, not least Tinky Tiny Tilly never coming home. (But if you look at the balance Wiglet the PIglet came to live with us instead.)
On the Monday before my birthday I asked Rich if he wanted to stay here in France and he answered honestly that he didn’t know. So I set to writing my journal, and asked myself some honest questions. I know that people read this blog for its positivity but I always said I would say it warts and all.
As I lay there in bed with Rich snoring and asked myself if at that precise moment in time if I had won the lottery would I stay: The answer was no; but I have to emphasise it was at that precise moment in time.
So I started to consider other options in my head: moving to Spain, where it would be warmer and (my understanding is) the cost of living is cheaper. I considered moving back to England! The main problem with that was that we would want to live somewhere remote, and would never be able to afford to buy unless it was a shit hole! But I considered it, expressly Wales, where there is more countryside and less people. Then I considered Ireland; my dad was Irish, I have relatives there, the countryside is similar to France, and the properties are cheap. But most of all the benefit of Ireland was that they speak English.
I knew that to be realistic we really needed to sit down with a pen and a piece of paper because all of the things to consider would get lost in our heads.
But as always, even though I had lost my belief a little bit because it has been so hard, I believed that life would show me the way.
So on my birthday when I mentioned to a dear friend, who is there in the background, that I was considering our options they messaged me and immediately asked what’s up! They then pointed out to me how lucky we were and that they would move here in a heartbeat. They don’t know how much that simple comment meant.
As part of the numerous birthday wishes on FB a number of people said how I was living the dream; another friend excitedly posted that she was on the move, and when I responded she said that she was following my lead. My dear friend Mary has already ventured on a big adventure and all of these people have been inspired by us; I felt a responsibility to them. And being a girl who always believes that life shows you the way I then started to wonder if this was life trying to make me think. Add to that our impromptu invite to the lovely neighbours, Rich’s FB site that I have set up for work resulting in him getting some work from it, I started to think that perhaps it was.
On Sunday we went for a windy walk down our lane and visited a farm where Marc’s uncle lived and loved until he died last year. It was sad, with the doors blowing in the wind no longer loved; but when I looked at how that man had lived it reminded me that I had come out here for the simple life, and this was it. What did I want?
On the walk Rich and I stopped and looked over the rolling hills and Rich looked at me and said ‘I can’t go back to England Mois, I cannot be surrounded by people.’ And I agreed, we had at least made a decision on something.
As the week has worn on we have come up with some other ideas to make some money that I am now busy working on (let alone my blogs, and my book) and I am looking forward to what they may bring.
As I have always said life will show us the way.
We have both decided that we are not beaten yet; I mean, bloody hell, if you look at all of the obstacles that we have overcome to get to here we can do anything if we put our mind to it!
I have been honest in describing what happened to me re my mental health in England and in all honesty I think that I was still ill when I came over here. So I then became overwhelmed with the volumnious amount of paperwork that need to be completed; got sucked in by people who I thought were going to help me when in fact it was the opposite and I lost my mojo – which is that I take no crap from anyone.. But now I am back, I have lowered my level with regards to integrity and compassion, you get to piss me off three times and then your out! I can look after myself and others who are kind to me and I will not be beaten.
But part of this consideration is also that I have acknowledged that we are on an adventure – it was never set in stone – and if part of the adventure is to move to pastures new then life will show me that, and I need to not be afraid of it and stop beating myself up that I have to make it work here: to stop thinking that there are no other options. There are always options and right now I choose this one. Who wouldn’t?!
Then on Monday a darling friend (I have written of him before and the wonderful music he sends me) sent me this for my birthday; with a beautifully written card with it.
He also said to me on Messenger:
‘Remember Moi, we are the good ones, we too are the sensitive ones! We are on the bus, if the wheels fall off we just have to put them back on again!’
He is right, I am on the bus, my wheels on firmly back in place and let’s see where this baby takes us.
Watch this space folks let’s see what happens, and whatever it is I will Face Everything and Rise.
Moisy
I have just used this quote in my other blog, but I love it so much and it sums up this post!
I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It’s cloud’s illusions I recall
I really don’t know clouds at all
Both sides now – Joni Mitchell
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It’s been a strange couple of weeks, my sister turned sixty (60!!!) on the 18th of January and it made me realise as I turned 56 last Friday the 25th just how time is of the essence. But more of that in future blogs.
One of the best things about living here is that we are blessed with wonderful French neighbours; out of all the arseholes we have met over the years on this adventure none of them are French!
Our neighbours knew that things had been difficult for Rich and I, and my darling friend Martine knew it was my birthday, so a couple of Sundays ago they rang our bell and invited us for aperitifs at their house on the 18th (my sisters birthday). It was so lovely of them, and it made me feel better because I couldn’t get to see my sister on this landmark birthday (that is all part of the adventure, but I am sad I missed it).
On the evening of the 18th our neighbours and friends Marc and Nadia picked us up, and when we got to Martine and Michel’s home the assortment of aperitifs was amazing: mussels, stuffed cherry tomatoes, olives, little hot dog balls, spinach in pastry, so many things!) Out came the champagne and I found myself, in my basic French, conversing with my French friends about politics, and language.
We laughed about the hot dog balls being called knackers! Explained the dual meaning of that word in the English language which made them laugh, and this led to a conversation about the word for testicles in French! They have a fantastic sense of humour and really are lovely people.
Fast forward to my birthday, I had given myself a gift of a day of doing nothing: no logs, no new FB sites, no ironing, washing, writing, no promotion of my book and blogs on social media, nada! In the early evening I did venture out to the postbox and Marc called me. We were invited to their house for champagne, and when we arrived there was a big bunch of flowers waiting for me. The time flew by, as it always does with them and it really made my day. Hubby cooked me a Mexican so hot I couldn’t eat it, and it was the day I wanted, with some added extras along the way.
But I am at a crossroads……
Is it my age?
Moisy
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For the first time since we moved here we have actually finished work for Christmas. You know, a bit like that ‘ Friday Night’ feeling when work is over for the week and you ‘crack open’ a beer ( or in my case pour a glass of wine) we finished work last night and sat on the sofa and did just that; and it felt good, it felt as if we are finally ‘living a normal’, structured life.
I am now sitting in bed on a Saturday morning drinking my tea and pondering the week ahead, not least the day ahead. I have a few final things to get from the supermarket; we are having a simple Christmas with turkey, big sausages wrapped in bacon with honey and whole grain mustard poured over them, Brussel sprouts sautéed with smoked lardons (my favourite), roast potatoes and parsnips, assorted veg, Yorkshire puddings, and stuffing (and trust me that’s toned down from what I cooked in England!). We’re not doing presents, our gift will be watching the dogs play with their new toys.
When I get back today I am helping Rich cut logs and, yes you’ve guessed it! I will be log splitting! Tonight we are out for Rich’s ‘works Christmas do’ and it feels weird to be able to say that, but oh so good! I will even pull our some of my glamorous jewellery to wear!
Tomorrow I am cleaning the bedrooms, ironing and, you guessed it, log splitting! It’s all part of rural living.
On Monday it will be the final countdown, which means I change my bedding (there is nothing like a clean bed) and moving furniture to accommodate a record player (yes we can play our vinyl!) that we were gifted, and then we are off to a shindig with some friends.
Then we have the big day, for us it will be a relaxed day of snuggling, late dinner on our laps (we are totally chilling it down) and tv. late in the night I will make cold turkey sandwiches with pickles.
On boxing day (which they don’t celebrate in France) we are off to another get together, a buffet lunch at a dear friends.
I am really looking forward to this Christmas with new friends, it will be a simple Christmas full of it’s real meaning: spending time with good people and those you love, only this time it will be the new friends we have made on our adventure. As I write this I realise that is our Christmas gift.
Have a good weekend folks, look out for more posts.
Moisy
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We live a simple life we don’t have, or covet, lots of possessions, we know that is not the way to happiness, and we are happy.
We started Rich’s birthday weekend with a visit to a huge vide grenier in the stunning town of Lassay les Chateaux near to us.
What a place to visit, with French gems everywhere and saucisse and frites as well! But it was sooooo hot the dogs started to struggle and the baby Dylan had to be carried back to the car because the ground was burning her feet. Thankfully this year, as part of the summer frivolity and for his birthday, Rich has been given a swimming pool. It has been a Godsend, with our two lilo’s that fit in it that Karen and I spent all day yesterday floating on, and temperatures of over thirty degrees every day both us and the dogs have loved it.
Whilst this is a possession it is one for us all, but,other than that, we have not been out for lunch, I didn’t buy Rich a card, or a gift, but Karen did buy him a cake! We had prosecco, red wine, and Rich had some ciders someone had brought him over from England; I cooked him pancakes with maple syrup, and we all had lamb chops for tea (somewhat the worse for wear after drinking wine all day in the garden!)
It was baby Dylan’s first birthday as well so the Welshie’s joined in the party, running around with their paper hats on various parts of their bodies, anywhere but their heads! Only Harley kept it on for any length of time, but that’s the joy of a Welshie!
What more could you ask? Good food, good company, good wine, and dogs! Add to that the final of the World Cup and Wimbledon and the view and serenity of our garden and my husband’s prayers were answered.
By the time we all ate we were worn out, so Rich’s birthday cake has been saved for today, but the puppies had theirs, ice cream, cream and madeira cake, they’re not spoilt at all!!
l
Today we will get some errands done, and go for a walk, possibly to the barrage (see post from January or look out for a new one soon.)
Life is good, keeping it simple is the way to go.
Moisy
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l
