Flowers give hope

 

Whoopee... Look at that!!! Have managed to suss how to post photo using miniipad. 

A lovely lady to many people, gifted me yellow roses and gerbera. Cheerful colour to bring to the patient who has been more or less confined to the house.

I'm trying to learn to be less harsh to me and less harsh on others. 

One could say I have suffered from the "Poor me" syndrome. 

The last 4 weeks have been a bit of a roller-coaster ride with excitement and depression taking me up and down. Exhausted and not just physically, whilst recuperating from the operation and post op drugs, I have felt overwhelmed by the assault on my body.  Somehow the spiritual me has been under surveillance as I have had too much time to contemplate. The chaos of having my house and home attacked whilst roof timbers are nearly all replaced, worse than was estimated, has been an ordeal especially when there is no one here to share thoughts with. 

Optimism has to be the key. And Hell can become Paradise....

Update

Foot : all healed on the outside, so waiting for swelling to be normal before driving + did two very short walks along the lane. healing is due to my magic concoction of oils!
Roof : wall plate is almost built along the length of the cottage + 2 concrete steps lead through doorway between greniers but more to do in that area.... + the Genoese construction of the flat tiles for the brisis has started . Work will continue for another two weeks!
Weather : rain affects roofwork and keeps the lawn wet and growing. But no further storms since last week.
looking on the bright side of life from time to time .... But no energy or much inclination to explore how to do the myriad of things on the list I started today. Maybe making a list ir Twitter us the first stage of change afoot.... Maybe acceptance of how it is in any current moment is the key as is responsibility to do something about it.
I have too much time to ponder and think and not  enough ACTION.
Need to make some deadlines once the roof and foot look beautiful and motivate creativity once more. 
Hey ho....

Challenges!

The hard drive on my applemacbook has crashed. Tests suggest hard drive cannot be repaired...   Ooh lah lah ...  Thank goodness I have an iPad because I can't reach an Apple Genius bar until I go to Uk.
This will be an exercise in blogs and posts from the mini screen. I recently learned to transfer photos from camera onto iPad with a small device...so photos may be possible.
Thank goodness I have the iPod as the old CD player I was gifted, really to use as an amplifier for louder music from laptop, skips sections of cd tracks ... My radio, CD player, DVD player, all on the laptop was my source of media stimulus. I was just enjoying watching videos!
AND ALSO the internet phone does not always ring. Unless people use the landline I do not know if they have called.   Maybe, it's not much different from being in a nunnery. I could start playing hymns for I still have a hymn book (would prefer catholic hymns for Nostalgic reasons) ...  and burning frankincense but I have none left.
My techno world and life support system is not being helpful to the isolation I have been experiencing.

However.  Today.   A friend took me to a restaurant for lunch (le Grillon) and she brought yellow flowers and roses, DIY shopping and oatcakes from UK.  I feel normal again, human. I was really losing the plot at the weekend and had become severely depressed! I refuse to take any tablets. I slept and slept and didn't even notice the fall back of Time. The stresses of the last  4 weeks, medication and loss of regular sleep patterns as a result of all of that plus roof or no roof, wind and rain ingress has been very worrying!

The foot has made brilliant progress and the wound has closed, so I am waiting for the swelling to subside further before I can abandon the adapted walking sandal and wear a PAIR of flat shoes.. And drive my car. It will sure be a celebration day when I can wear walking boots. Oh and what joy to feel a madam and wear heels!

Carved out by hand

This is really about a hole in the wall.

In my personal life I am trying to carve out an understanding about the depths of who I am and what I represent, what my values, beliefs, strengths, essence are, not only for me and to me but also for others and to others so that I may move forward (with my new foot and feet), whatever that metaphor says!!!!!

I appear to be removing mental and emotional walls that kept me as mine own prisoner for many years. Looking back at my experiences, (written heartfelt on this blog), I've often spoken about being imprisoned and yearning to be as free as a bird. A very dear friend of mine tried to question this. She wanted to know why I felt I was being punished for this and that, and why I felt imprisoned.  I know this might sound a bit strange but I feel as if walls are coming down.  I feel as if I've broken through a chink in mine own armour and am being released from the past.  I've had some serious conversation today with a friend, whom I value enormously, and it is only now whilst I write this post for my blog about MY HOUSE, that I identify with the fact that MY HOUSE is metaphorically MY BODY and MY SOUL and all that are contained within that.

The baby that I was, the little girl who needs love to counteract parental inadequacies, (God bless them for they tried and did their best in their time), the student who studied hard to escape the exigencies of working class life, the rebellious teenager, the hippie with her long auburn brown hair sweeping down over maxi Laura Ashley styled dresses beneath which footless, fancy free and as barefoot as Sandie Shaw, she travelled deep underground from one side of London to the other, then a at the cutting edge of modern practice in the classroom (forget the theory) a teacher and a manager, a person of upper social standing in the eyes of all and sundry, the parent and the patient, the mother and a lover, a retiree which brought the child again when her adult was destroyed by external factors. Now re-discovering the confidence she once held for many years. It's different now. Mature, Grown Up. There one STORY ends. A tale begins anew.

A wall blocks out light but one can still breathe air....so what else did the wall block and keep imprisoned and what will the hole lead to? A sense of freedom of the soul and spirit,  an adventurous stage in a next stage of life.

Stones removed one by one by two young men working opposite each other in different spaces working as a team reveal a hole in the wall to become a passage between two greniers.
For MY HOUSE it opens a doorway to give change to the upper part of this house. I hope to create a habitable space there. If not, at the very least, it signifies a change in the way of life, a change of view, a new doorway to existence.  Optimism is created.

A French gentleman of standing arrives...

It was the lovely Fabien in his light-grey suit with his modern-styled grey-patterned shirt, his striped-grey scarf worn with French aplomb, his wonderful, smiling, deep brown eyes with large black curled-away-from-his-eyes eyelashes. Can you hear a heart flutter? There was no fun to be had ... the artisans and we had coffee, then to business with technical discussion of the re-construction of the lucarne. After all, he is the Architecte de Batiments de France for this region!  We wandered up the lane, at the same time that a huge pantechnicon was delivering a beautiful furnished snooker table, in one piece, using hydraulic gear! Les Parisiens! Fabien explained which of the two examples in the lane was the better one in terms of tradition for when they re-build the sides of the lucarne.  The artisans had replaced the screws with nails in the oak stringer / edge support for tiles. He told me that the artisans were doing good work and he had no complaint.

I showed him the house interior, then the roof from the rear garden, then the interior of the grenier above my large salon. He told me that the bathroom vapour extraction unit has been installed incorrectly.  So I have to get the electrician to return. Oh lah, it isn't easy to get things correct to please 'regles et norms'. But he looked admiringly at the carpentry of the three St Andrew crosses and was in approvement of the hole through the wall that is planned to connect the two attic spaces.

And so...the hat of my house.....

YESTERDAY:

 Unforeseen events continue on the first part of the roof being repaired which was the better part!!!....
1. les panne sablières are renewed either side of the lucarne.
2. le panne faitière had to be built because there wasn't one (back wall plate has had to be built up).
3. the poplar panne intermediare (purlin) was broken and has been replaced with oak!!!!!
4. les chevrons are replaced with new 63 x 75 pine and will be set at a 45 distance to take the lighter weight of ardoise roof tiles.
5. the aerial must be removed from the chimney - oooh triste pour les hirondelles qui reste là et parlent en été.  Enduit or something has to be repaired.  It is unnecessary to replace an aerial when  don't have television and anyway one is not supposed to have an aerila on dsplay if no television is declared for taxes.  If I need one in the future then probably it would be a different aerial system.
6. I gain more wood for kindling.
7. next?   ah.. more rain....but the boss is back for the 2nd time today and so I appreciate his efforts to assist in protecting the floor of the grenier above my nicely finished ceilings below. What a job!!!!!!
8. ah ... I have an idea for a house party!!!!!! 

AT THE CLOSING OF THE DAY:

iphoto might have sorted itself

Let battle commence:

First tiles are removed.....can you hear me gasp?

The straightened toe hopes number 3 will settle

The new panne sabliere to the left of the Lucarne

The old panne sabliere to the right of the Lucarne

The foot of the patient, the hat of the house and electrical matters

Post in the making.......

Photos will arrive but iphoto is a problem making the rainbow wheel spin constantly and boot up takes ages. Evidently the computer has one hard drive but it thinks it has others, so takes ages booting up.  I have to discover how to solve the problem. Why don't computers have brains? So many promises were made to us humans over 30 years ago about technology which would give us more leisure time? Has it heck! All our time is occupied solving technological mysteries and in this instance, where there are several self-generating photo libraries, I can't find photos that I took and uploaded/downloaded yesterday! I used to enjoy learning technology but now it is tedious.  I have other things to do!  All I wish, which isn't actually completely true, is sometimes to be without the machine. Not possible,  as it is my lifeline and limb to the real world beyond my roof, beyond my gates that my two feet would like to travel!

Three days of workmen on site has created dust and havoc. I wasn't really prepared for falling masonry or what is involved with roof tiles being removed.  Yes I had prepared for dust etc. It's not the same as Lego. I wasn't happy that tiles were being thrown into the lorry with some falling onto the road.  I suggested that they bring the lorry nearer, They didn't, yet on the 3rd day they did!   I also think that sweeping skills need further training.  On 3rd day, I suggested they swept the road just as they were about to drive off.  No comment but they did. It took two men. One watched as the client swept the courtyard detritus towards number 2's shovel.  I didn't wish to trip on broken tiles with my hobbly foot.

Two weeks have passed and although it is still painful for Mrs Hobble, days are getting better.  The foot is sufficiently healed so as to climb ladders to take photos and then to cause me pain afterwards. I suppose I shouldn't climb the ladder but needs must!  On Sunday, I had permission from the boss to climb the scaffolding which is sturdy and safe taking the weight of 4 men. I wanted to inspect the grenier after the thunderstorm of Saturday night. 30mm of wet stuff called RAIN.  My brain has been as dead as a dodo since the op but there is nothing like drama to wake it up!!!!!
Water appeared where it shouldn't be; between shutters and doors of two rooms and on the kitchen floor.  Quel horreur at 10 am Sunday morning. (My sleep patterns are completely awry.)

Basically the flat part of the wall high up where once there were tiles was not covered with tarpaulins, called baches in France. Water ran down the textile of the bris and flowed either side of the flat surface down either side of the stone wall.  Guttering is of no consequence at the moment.  A real no-no is to get stone walls wet. There had better be no water marks appearing LATER in my decorated rooms!!! On  Friday, I had not noticed the situation on my roof, being "not alert".  On Saturday I emailed the boss and asked if it was covered sufficiently as I could see that it wasn't. Yes, he says,  it will be ok!!!  On Sunday: Nature makes thunderstorms which roofers cannot predict!  H'm... Me and my intuition!!!!!  I have commented to him that it's vital to listen to a woman and more important to listen to the client!

ALSO they replaced one panne sabliere which does look like pine with treated pine but the other seems to look like oak.  On Friday it hadn't been removed. I was in a quandary.  I was tempted to be demanding and ask for oak even if it raised the devis, but was that being silly and unnecessary?  I am a house caretaker.  I want my roof to be beautiful as well as practical.  Yes, I shall have a ten year guarantee but a roof should last 50 years or more. Can I be queen of my domain and get what I want? In the end I had to accept treated pine! The queen submitted to their knowledge!

I've taken photos of the renovation project and think that photos go a long way as a selling feature if I ever have to sell, though as yet I don't want to give in and return to UK!!!!!! Mind you if you heard me a few days ago this would not be true. I have been very low in morale but perking up as days go by!!!

I told the 3 artisans that I don't wish to see screws in the oak finition on the roadside edge. They should fix with proper plugs. I don't know what they are called... but you get a hexagonal wedge of acacia and thwack it into the joint to hold both pieces of wood together.  It's traditional. Screws are useless. I intend to speak to the boss again about this.  He is still looking contrite, even though I've warned him months ago that I have high standards.

Monday: they covered half of the Mansard roof that looks towards the sky, with tarpaulin at the end of the day. Tiles are removed and evidently battens and rafters are in a worse state than anticipated!!!!! I knew it was bad. Then I was told that there isn't a wall plate and so one has to be  built. I need to research what that is! I think it holds the upper layer of slate tiles.

Monday: I find their electrical lead using my kettle socket. Investigation tells me I have no ceiling lights in the Oval room and kitchen, nor exterior light and one socket in the kitchen isn't working. That's why my bread didn't toast. I accepted cold bread because I wanted to leave the men to themselves for lunchtime!  I let them use my kitchen as a dining room. I have no problem with that.   They couldn't just tell me there was a problem, I had to ask why. Well it appears it is because they are now operating the hydraulic ladder to bring down tiles and that needs strong electrical power. We learned that there was only 10 ampere in that particular plug.  So they used the one with 16. Fortunately I had some fuses and each of the fuse switches is different! Only in France!

I'll have to learn about amperes and get the electrician to return because despite consulting him three times the board labels are not correct.. why are there different amperes? .... why are prises and lampes mixed ... why do different rooms go onto one fuse and then other parts of the same room are on another fuse?   I know.  It's France!!!!!!!

To return to the roof. I am less anxious ... but will need to keep an eye on replacement of wood.  It's pretty dangerous in that grenier and really I need to replace the floor structure... but ouch!   I can't afford it as yet!

To return to the foot. It walked me up the lane about 100 yards and the muscles in the calves are not so anguished whilst compensating for walking on a heel. It was lovely to have a view of houses, plants, cars, a cat and know that it is much better to get out of the house!
Postscript Tuesday: the foot did not wish to go far in my house!

I've started a jigsaw and it reminds me of Harriet Edith Turner, my maternal grandmother, whose birthday would have been yesterday. We always did jigsaws, played cards or Monopoly and she showed me how to crochet and knit, to cook simple basic meals like bread and butter pudding, bread pudding, apples wrapped in her own pastry, slow roasts and casseroles. She was a very good bridge player, a gentle soul, always calm, worldly and lovely.

L'Art et Lard - Le Petit-Pressigny 2013

I would love several of these in my garden.
The walking story leaflet does not clearly name the sculptor.
Possibly Jacques Cancre.

Oh to be an iron lady!   Foolishly, I thought my foot would cope with a little wandering if I was mainly left at the English Tea Tent, but it didn't work out like that as my friend's husband didn't come with us. A second able bodied person was needed with three children under the age of 5 on scooters whilst Mummy pushed a double buggy! She managed to see fewer than half of the exhibitions.
My plan was that they would do the trail, report back to me what they thought was worthy and take me to the location in their car. Haha!
I saw a few exterior metal sculptures and the origami sculptures of Lisette des Flots who is always so warmly welcoming as was Rieja van Aart, a photographer and organiser of the event.
By the time I had unexpectedly supported my friend,  I needed supporting as my foot started to burn. This was controlled to some extent by several paracetamols!

Winter Origami

At least I got out into the big wide world as I haven't seen it since being in Cornwall AND I bought a bottle of THE BEST walnut oil from L'huilerie Lepine.  Their open days at Availles-en-Chatellerault are 16 and 17 November, but like apples, there are few walnuts this year! Now, I'm pooped and the roofers will be coming this week!  I've slept a lot as I have done most of the week and the brain feels rather foggy but at last the DVT injections have ended!

Outside my gate

Temporarily parked

Excitement to see something in the world even if it stopped outside, when hobbly, when one can't get out of the house let alone the gate.

Chapter Two of A Cornish Adventure

We took a train to Penzance and warmed ourselves with an amazing hot chocolate. I do wish I'd chosen a Danish pastry!

Onwards!   Our cycles skirted the Pz fishing depots as we headed towards Mousehole.  (The only family holiday I ever remember brought us here and it doesn't appear to have changed!)  A three-roomed shop with apartment for sale was 550k.  I asked the price!  A little shop like that would do me to a tee!

We stopped at Newlyn Art Gallery with colourful, contemporary art that made us talk about what we saw!  I loved that!  Overjoyed, I delighted in "fuschias flowering in the hedges, falling to the floor", as worthy as any art.

Driving east, we stopped at Dartington but it was raining. I didn't have my camera under the umbrella. We came to Totnes, Devon whereupon a bus and a river ferry transported us to Dartmouth. 
Here we debarked, only to hear my name being called!  Who?!! Someone from the commune I used to live in!! I used to work with her as a volunteer with children's activities and adult TEFL!  Four years ago I nearly bought part of her property! Small world! She was so friendly, absolutely charming as French Parisians are, and as surprised as I was! Spooked! I needed a strong coffee and glass of wine or brandy but not hot the chocolate substitute which was pathetic!

I loved the colours and styles of houses, the interesting boutique/antique shops, the defence constructions and the chateau at the mouth of the River Dart, the working boats, the general ambiance including tropical plants, the stately demeanour of the buildings steeped in a richly important heritage of nautical history, sailing, warfare, where 'The Mayflower' once moored when The Pilgrim Fathers sailed from Southampton to America.  There was never enough time to explore further as our bus for the return journey was waiting.  Steam train and return river ferry timetables did not coincide with our needs.  Fish and chips were delicious, eaten whilst seagulls glared at us !

Totnes was quirky! Now we travelled north-east to Burnham-on-Sea, Somerset, to settle in the sunshine and walk along the sands before the overnight stopover for a very early flight to France.

Three counties in ten days.
It was an invitation, an opportunity, an educational experience for inspiration.
It was fun and an adventure.
It was enjoyment and laughter.
It was for that moment in time with a valued friend.
It strengthened the knowledge that I can't yet afford to live near the coast unless someone lets me have a small artist's studio and then I think I would! But then I really would have to learn to paint!
Au revoir Cornwall!

Poem: A Cornish Adventure

A Cornish Adventure

“Let’s Go” he shouts as we leave Heyl, start of the estuary,

up to River Allen, which shines in shimmering mystery,

towards the crooked river, called in Cornish, Kammel,

rising source in Bodmin Moor, now the River Camel,

draining itself and its tributaries into the Celtic Sea

we follow too the geography, with our bicycles, him and me.

At Padstow famous for people, fish and food,

fishing boats sit, bottoms in thick mud,

in the early morning dawning sun

we leave that charming, bustling town.

Leave the ebb and flow of harbour life,

Leave the muddle of market strife,

Leave the rugged coastline coves,

Leave the pure clean sandy beaches,

Leave the seaweed kelp and bays,

Leave the commerce for natural days,

Leave the muddy harbour and fishing port,

Take a gentle challenge of the two-wheeled sport.

Off we go cycling along the trail, once a working railway track,

reach the grand old Bodmin Jail, pedalling there and back.    

Alongside the estuary 
partake of cups of coffee

Chocolate cones for creamy ice cream 

Blackberry ice to make us scream

Scones and jam with Cornish cream - a treat for thee and me. 

Sea fret on a sparkling sea.

Tide is risen high with glee.

Seals moan mournfully in the bay.

Sun shines on the sea all day.

Returning to our starting point

we watch in twilight setting sun

fishermen board their colourful boats

in yellow dungarees and coats

head out of harbour on a rising tide

slip the ropes fearlessly with pride

to harvest mackerel from their schools

providing people with salient Omega oils.

Earlier a river bed

with driven deep rivulets

was a muddy chocolate brown.

Later a river flooded

with sea whilst white sailed yachts

come to restaurants in town.

The estuary ebbs and flows, 
in and out, 
without a doubt

reflecting twinkling fishing boats.
  

Yet cyclists are never at sea

For they're eating mackerels grilled for supper or their tea.

Chapter One of A Cornish Adventure

Cornwall beckoned and it was surprisingly warm. I LOVED IT!!!
Once the canopy of cloud was higher than the plane I was amazed to see how emerald green were verdant fields of The West Country and in a different geographical formation than The Fair Fields of France. Travelling to Taunton took no time where we met my cousin. Like me she has the zany gene. We laughed hysterically as she drove to three watering holes determined to have a coffee treat away from home but no pubs were open before noon.  Success at midday! Didn't they know people were queuing to get in! Back to base for a ginger, lemon and echinacea concoction for an invalid before having lunch and an evening meal at a pub quiz night. Sadly, we didn't have quiz knowledge!

Westwards! We walked a 6 and a half mile section of the South West Coastal Way! ... What a zinch is what I thought before we started ... until I had to eat my thoughts! Oh My! I'm sure I've never done that kind of walk before,, and am eager to do so again! In the past I've ascended an Auvergne mountain in summer, and an Arran mountain too, walked in Wales  and Derbyshire. (*Footnote) I didn't know what to expect and YET,  I can understand that planning is essential in case of inclement weather moving in from the West. Fortunately, sea fret was kindly!
Up and down heathery crags, in and out of beautiful bays, through mud, around briar and bramble to clamber rocks and stone steps, cross a wonderful stone bridge, look out to rocky island shelves in bays to hear seals moaning offshore ... THEN, just under 4 hours from Zennor, we arrived at St Ives for a nice cuppa tea!

St Ives is of course an artist's magnet and a magnet for me! I wanted to eat a Cornish Pasty BUT not to eat it on account of progress I'd made with losing weight!  However, I can recommend pub food in THE UNION INN where fresh mackerel fillets were creamy to accompany Cornish ale. We had Ginger beer alfresco in the evening sun, where there was Phil from Essex, who lived in Cornwall.  Two ladies, one American, another from London had much to say too. I always forget that al fresco these days means to sit within the range of smoker's exhalations!!!!!

I bought a painting! Small, but nevertheless it is now mine.  I was bowled over by the exhibition of the artwork from Penny Rumble and Elaine Turnbull and greedily wanted almost every one!!!!! I wish I could paint! ... AND ... for the last three years  have thought that I would love to have an art gallery in my house!!!!!!!!
You may or may not know that one source of my despair /  laughter has been that I chose to buy a house on a road to Hell or Paradise if we believe the French inversion. I laughed when I read that the painting is entitled "Cliff Edge at Hell's Mouth" by Penny Rumble! Now to buy a Marine Blue frame. Through the cellophane which of course does not do it justice, here it is:

Penny and Elaine are passionate about their work and their enthusiasm was dramatic like their art. There were so many exhibitions to taste and see in Arts Festival Week. We were lucky to choose this one! The town heaved with visitors and unfortunately we couldn't get tickets to see "Show of Hands".  I last heard them in Diss Corn Exchange probably 25 years ago! (or was it more?)

TATE and Barbara Hepworth's cottage were on the list of TO DO. I've always liked her work and that of Henry Moore. I used to study their sculptures with my class of 6 to 7 year olds who made wonderful naive representations of Mother and Child and holey forms! My former husband was very much influenced by their ideas and those of Buckminster Fuller (geodesic domes) when he presented his final show at Art College.  I still have one of his bronzes and one of his plaster eggs which need to be given higher status in my house!!!!!!!  For three years I've wanted to make my large Salle de Sejour into an art gallery.

We whiled away sunny moments marveling at fishing boats and sea. We mooched about on sands and pebbles in bays.

Before St Ives we cycled from Padstow along the estuary to Bodmin. It was 27 miles according to Google but I thought the sign said 37 miles. Anyway, I get kilometres and miles muddled! It was such a challenge and great fun to see oozing mud in the estuary.  I love the smell of estuaries. I love how tides in and out, rise and fall, changing landscape. We stopped to have coffee en route from an inventive entrepeneur. Fantastic!

Cyclists discussed the merits of other folding bicycles. I'd been rather cynical because I once rode a Shopper with difficulty and hated such hard work... but this was a DREAM!  I loved the sound of my borrowed one - a Dohan.  Swishly, smoothly, I zinged along the Camel Trail.  I was HAPPY!

At Wadebridge we stopped to see the Betjeman memorabilia exhibition, which in my opinion requires TLC and re-organisation.  It is as if the poet has become unloved within the community centre for the elderly! 
When we arrived at Bodmin we healthily ate apples, dried fruits and 70% chocolate ,but eventually we needed TEA, and so I got the much sought after Cream tea with Cornish creammmmmmmmmmm!  Then delicious ice creams on the return journey. How naughty can one get?  We didn't rate Rick Stein's fish and chips for the price! All packaging and hype! I've had the best fish and chips at Aldeburgh at half the price!       I loved being there!

TO FOLLOW  
Chapter Two of a Cornish Adventure
(*Footnote: I do remember how this same cousin, her daughter and I set off from Southwold to Dunwich across marshes in winter, when I was not better from Myalgic Encephamolitis but thought I was...we got to the pub in time for last orders in those days and a fish and chip lunch. Then they made me set off before them and still I struggled as they overtook me and yet waited all the time...it was dangerous to be walking in mist-hanging darkness near dykes.)

One Life. Live it.

I saw it on a UK VW campervan:- 

One Life! Live it! 

My friend's brother has unexpectedly died aged 48.

Deep sadness for the family.

In Memoriam

Mrs Hobble

... appeared 5 years ago, disappeared and re-surfaces, not completely welcome but once her feet have healed she will not have to reappear. There were two bunions on two feet. One was in a sad state of distress because the big toe joint pierced the skin for several winters.  It was a great relief after the op to wear Mary-Jane winter shoes again though wellies were truly out unless fleecy lined!  (Mrs Hobble dislikes wellies though they appear to look so beautiful on others feet!)
The second took 5 years for the offending joint to be ill-fitting and uncomfortable in Cinderella ballerina shoes, rolling inwards instead of performing a heel to toe dance. In winter shoes, nerves felt cut by knife like slicing along the outer joints of both feet.  An osteopath in UK and a kinaestherapiste in France treated the pain very well.  Mrs Hobble dreads containing her feet in winter shoes! BUT ... Now it is done and almost over.  Life can soon take another step forwards.
Everything boded well. The surgeon was smiley and kind. Then she was pushed through the bowels of the hospital to a standstill in the operating theatre. Nurses were washing and robing up, chatting and laughing with colleagues, in good but serious camaraderie. The anaesthetist sang "Bonnie and Clyde" and answered Mrs Hobble's questions about the machines which were to monitor her.  She allayed her fears about being sent to Dream Land. 
On Friday night Nurse BossyBoots (one of many!) woke her up to insist she took 4 painkillers in three hours time!!!!  "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" Another said OK take them in an hour. "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" They departed and she fell asleep. The next morning at 6am, apart from an embarrassing moment when a signal did not meet her brain cells early enough, Nurse Bossy Boots chastised Mrs Hobble for not taking the tablets and removed them into her pocket! Other nurses were disinterested in providing painkillers that were desperately asked for as by now the foot was hot and hurt!  Nor did they wish to change the 'pansement' but Mrs Hobble insisted they did.
The poor patient sharing her room started to vomit several times and still the nurses took ages to come, appearing to be disinterested in her condition. Dinner trays arrived. Certainly not what patient two wished to see!  Soggy brussel sprouts with a slab of reconstituted turkey mash in pretend breadcrumbs!  Taking the banana and packet of soft cheese Mrs Hobble was eager to escape potential infection once the ambulance/ taxi driver arrived with the wheelchair.  Saturday! Saturday! OUT into fresh air and freedom! The sun was shining!
FOR THE BRAVE: photos taken 6 days after the op! Poor old feet for a poor old lady!
I am surprised the foot is not more swolllen.

UPDATE: 10 October:  I understand it's normal but I'm feeling very emotional from time to time ... must be the concoctions of anasthesia, painkillers and daily injections to counteract Deep Vein Thrombosis! Perhaps as a result of the latter, the nurse had trouble finding a vein in my inner elbow a few days ago, and today she gave up,  said she would try tomorrow!
Would love a glass of wine!  
Wish the brain cells would clear enough so that I could get a grip on the mounting admin!
Wish the heavy legs feeling would disappear so that I could cook a decent meal even though I am eating healthily.
Wish I could be out and about in the Autumnal air, cycling, walking to see Autumn Crocus and cyclamen carpets.
Meanwhile must try Yoga when not wrapped up in my comforting crocheted granny blankets, with Hot Water Bottle, Reading books and thoughts!
IN THE PAST: Updated 11 October
Comaparing the left with the right foot and looking back at history it seems I have to wait about 3 to 4 weeks post op for it look better .....
http://villagedevaux.blogspot.fr/2009/04/history-of-bunion-in-photos.html