Words are what we are

This is tongue-in-cheek. 
A verbal selfie! 
The modern equivalent is probably "LOL"... does that mean Lots of Love or Lots of Laughter? 
It doesn't really matter! Here we are ust trying to lift spirits and laugh at preposterousness!

A dear good friend described me as formidable... But in which sense or all?

1. Arousing fear, dread, or alarm.
2. Inspiring awe, admiration, or wonder.
3. Difficult to undertake, surmount, or defeat.
-  from Middle English, Old French, Latin formīdābilis, from formīdāre, from formīdō, fear.

Several weeks ago, the same friend described me as enigmatic which I've heard on many an occasion from a number of people, usually of the opposite gender, and have always considered it a compliment and laughed.  I don't understand who I am so how do other people have such an insight?
And so...

ɛnɪɡˈmatɪk/enigmatic: an adjective meaning difficult to interpret or understand!
A Greek and Latin form of being non-conformist.

Synonyms would be: mysterious, puzzling, hard to understand, mystifying, inexplicable, baffling, perplexing, bewildering, confusing, impenetrable, inscrutable, incomprehensible, unexplainable, unfathomable, indecipherable, Delphic, oracular.

Am I all of those?  Oh dear!  I have often wished I could be more straightforward as the recommended antonym suggests!!!  Whoever I am, it seems, has created difficulties in my ability to form and maintain friendships. But I gather I am certainly not alone in that respect!  I am not a social outcast. I enjoy the company of people.  However, it is true I don't suffer fools gladly!  It was a reason given to me during an interview de-briefing, why I wasn't successful! Hm!! I think it was a polite way of telling me not to bother attempting to climb above my station!  

Times they are a changing

just like the weather...
after the shorts the rain,
after the rain the sun,
this is the way of life
where we had begun
with joy in our hearts
when a baby was born.
As we approach the latter years we strive to reject grey clouds of past errors and judgements,
sadnesses and sorrows, to let in sunshine with memories of good times, hoping that we can grow on whichever path we go.

Glad that I live am I; That the sky is blue;
Glad for the country lanes, And the fall of dew.

After the sun, the rain, After the rain the sun;
This is the way of life, Till the work be done.

All that we need to do, Be we low or high,
Is to see that we grow, Nearer to God on high.

A door closes, a window opens, a scene ends, a scene begins ... Let the sun shine in!   

Let us breathe in the goodness and light that exists in each one of us!   Amen

A new day

A new time.
A new journey.
A door closes.
A window opens.
My blog heading.
It is what I learned when I lost my career path.
It is what I learned when I lost so many things.
It is what I learned when I bought my house.
it is what I learned when I lost the love from my partner.
It is what I have learned as I gain positive elements and insights and what makes people who we are.
I think people are intrinsically good...everyone has blocked patterns of  behaviour.
I am learning to be as free as a bird.
I can fly.
I may be melodramatic at times.
I may have emotional outpourings.
I am exploring.
I am learning.
I can't stand still.
I am Restless in France, restless generally to discover and make the most of life, whatever it is, wherever it takes me.
I am happy to meet whoever I can and engage in them and their lives.
I like traveling and having conversations with people I meet...this morning a little girl with flowers in her crocs.
I am sitting in a very nice organic coffee bar listening to conversations, watching people.  It's a wonderful gentle buzz ... my kind of place.
Again, I say that I thanks to all who say such very nice kind words, because when I was trapped in the four walls of a classroom and school, bizaare as it may seem I never knew about people, about LIFE and LIVING.
I am beginning to enjoy life now but I don't want to be stuck in the four walls of my French home for any length of time... itchy feet syndrome!
A rendezvous with a friend has been cancelled due to other complications which is why I indulge in y own company for coffee.
My journey chooses a new path through the forest.   I feel grounded.

So tired...

would sing Eric Clapton,  but this is a different tiredness. Fatigue has been stacking up. I should have been asleep earlier but  succumbed to a novel privilege of television!!!

Had a fantastic walk in sandland whilst the vestiges of the Sahara filled the sky.

A ghostly presence disturbed my sleep this morning.  It appeared to be a woman with a navy blue pinched waist-long skirt, a gentle soul....others are convinced it was my imagination.  When I asked was it time to wake up ,  she said " yes it was".  I am waking up!

A Full Moon - A Rosie Moon

02.30 ish
I awoke disturbed  ...  I snuggled down beneath the duvets, but unusually these days, I wished for a cup of tea.  Then memory set in!  I told myself that as there was no 'servant for the princess', I COULD get up, get cold, get a cup of tea, get a hot water bottle ... and then I saw the moon ... my Cancerian sign... A full moon with a star / planet nearby. Was it Jupiter planet or star Regulus?   It was quite warm in my courtyard ... about 9C ...
I wanted to sit outside with someone and chat, hold hands!
"Come outside ... it's a lovely moon out 'ere"...
so I took my camera and tried to shoot the moon!
It had a whole circle of light around it, but distant from it.  I've not seen the circle that far away before. Although I have seen full moons with smaller nearer circles. I think the circles are to do with refracted light and ice crystals.  By 5h30am the circle around the moon had decreased to a small halo.

I have a grand niece born a few weeks or months ago... she has been called Rosie Moon.
I don't know whether I will ever see her because her grandmother, who is my sister, stopped seeing me 20 years ago!!!!!!! This may be a celebration of having a grand-niece that I will never know.  I was deprived of being an aunt, likewise my niece and nephew were deprived of knowing me!    Nevertheless, I bought this little French Esprit number, 100% cotton, to send to the new person!  It's aged 9 months so it will fit eventually! When I visited Sri Lanka the moon rabbit was mentioned: it's Asian folklore. 

I was interrupted from my sleep by various thoughts and dreams about love and lovers and my children and grandchild!  Then the need for tea prompted:  the futile words "I miss him". These entered my head. I sobbed for only a few seconds before laughing out aloud!  A speedy recovery! It was an acknowledgement to accept that I DO miss all the lovely things we had together...but not the anger. Maybe Anger was part of the Passion and I didn't know! but no one should have had to listen to what I did.  I chose to stay despite desperation many times to escape from it, knowing not where I could go whilst all my possessions were in his house!  Maybe, being the difficult woman that I am, (isn't everyone difficult?), I pressed some triggers / buttons ... but I know I was not the cause, for I never asked for it and I was not to blame!
My father's anger towards my mother was more than enough in my life and I never expected to see that level of uncontrollable rage again! It was outright mental, emotional, physical abuse to my mother and indirectly very damaging to us kids. At least my dear friend didn't throw all and sundry through the air as did my father. As children, when saucepans came flying through the kitchen, we would scamper up to our rooms.  I would read. We would wait a long time or to the next day before it was time to venture downstairs to see the damage or to know if the storm was over.  One day I had to help collect cacti spines that had been embedded in the carpet...whhooosssh swiped from the window-sill with his wild moon madness!

I am thinking positively.  It is OK to miss someone. It is OK to mourn the loss of love. And indeed all that loss of friendship and support IS what I mourn!  He was a bestest friend.  It's OK to feel that!  It's OK to mourn the loss of Passion and Earthly, bodily functions that occur between people.  By feeling it, maybe it, the emotion deep within me, will heal!  BUT I THINK NOT. I accept it. I accept who I am!
I thought in the course of finding new passion and new friends, male and female, platonic and otherwise, going out into society, being busy with my life, it would decrease and so it has ... but here, alone though never lonely, tucked away in a village space that I love, there is a deep-down-hollow-place.
I am not ashamed to express this publicly.  It is not to shame anyone. I have thought hard and long about that. But I do believe in truth and so I have a vow to tell a truth when questioned or when the situation arises.  I'm not going to cause any level of deception. To avoid REALITY is a lie. It is not even attention seeking. I should really be writing the book ... The first words of the first pages always different, have often recently come to me when I am in the bath or lying horizontal. Then I arise and they disappear... so several starts have been finished! In the past many years I have often wondered why I can think whilst horizontal and then when I arise the words disappear.

LOSS ..... there it is..... in NEON lettering in my dream in March 2010 about 4 to 6 weeks before I bought my house, before he, I suspect, fearing that I was going to leave him, pushed me away first, to save his own fears of being rejected and abandoned, because I suppose that is what he had felt... history had bought us there... to that place in time...
I never ever meant to hurt him with my own anger about the world...
and I never wish to receive such anger ever again in my life! 
I remembered times when living together...times when he would regularly wake in the middle of the morning...   For some years it was because I thrashed about...but after he started to sleep by himself and when he lived solo again, I realised that I had been blamed for something that was not my fault despite the grains of truth.  Yes, I might have disturbed his quietude but as he had a pattern of waking early and still has, then it wasn't only me!

and so ... I REMEMBERED that on a few occasions when I couldn't sleep or we'd got something to talk about he would bring me tea in bed... and we would sit and hold hands together .. and for the first time in over 4 years I was thinking about the togetherness that tea and passion can bring... it was the last thing that really woke me up.
Before that, were other thoughts ... about being a surrogate grandma (rentagranny), about being a grandma that is not there with my own granddaughter, about the lack of communication she gives towards me when I am there though I have tried,  about how I try to support my own children when they don't seem to do what I need them to do to help themselves especially if I've stepped into help them.      So many thoughts... and many a moon madness... but I know that it is purely my struggle to make sense of my life... the past, present and the future, to make sense of who I am and why I need my friends around me and why I want to keep friends with my former lovers who have been truly worthy mentors and the bestest of friends who know me so well!  And yes, I have done my share of mooning over the men I have loved and still love!!!!!!!!!  It's my journey!

Restless in the Mind

Yesterday, I allowed my mind to roam with each thought carefully observed. If one does not focus on anything in particular and let thoughts come and go ... they are like a steam train arriving and departing at the station.  Pulling in, with a cacophany of noise, doors open and close, amidst hubbub and bustle from hoi polloi and aristocracy, who tumble from carriages, meet loved ones and friends, whilst others climb aboard to blow a farewell kiss, wave hands and arms to the one(s) they leave stationary* as they lean out of the door window, call farewell as loud as they can so as to be heard above the sounds of the engine, steam and track.  "I love you" they cry.  Sadly and wistfully they push up the window.  The whistle blows, the guard shouts and waves his flag. The driver gathers speed towards the next destination.
Thoughts arrive, get re-structured. Some have journeyed on, some have vanished into thin air like the vapour from the coals. Some remain to cause wonderment concerning a number of subjects.  One can achieve an almost euphoric bliss by observing thoughts without too much analysis.... it is the analysis that creates the questioning, doubt, anxiety, hurt, pain, suffering, confusion, dilemma, memory, joy, happiness.  Better to face "Reality" than to be concerned with how any of the past, present and future is going to be mapped out. Let it be.  Be Restful in the Mind. 

Irons not in the fire

I can't believe I've walked past irons in panes of glass at least more than 100 times and never seen them!  Must develop better observational skills!
I wonder why this pattern was created. 
Since then I saw another iron pattern .. must re-locate it as I didn't have the camera with me! 

A Tale of Two Duvets

Today is the day when duvets will be cleaned at the launderette as a treat because although they are not dirty as such they have not been cleaned for more years than I would like to confess.  This has been for a number of reasons,  too lengthy to mention.  However, with a second comfortable bed with its own duvet in another room and with warm weather forecast for the next few days, it’s time for transporting two bulky luxury king size feather duvets.

I had already discovered that at the launderette in the larger town, 30km journey, the cleaning of one duvet would cost me 32e, Nearer , 7km journey, it would cost about 26e. Without procrastination, I head to the launderette at a nearby market town, 8km, because in the past I received courteous and helpful service. Being petrol conscious, the drive could incorporate a visit to the market to purchase vegetables, fruit and fish because I am TRYING to keep to a diet.

On arrival, I enquire cheerfully about the price and am told 40 euros per duvet.  Oh dear! With an um and ah I decide to go ahead, even though, perhaps, I could buy a new one, appreciatively lesser quality, for a little more than 80 euros!  He is going to wash the duvet rather than chemically clean it and is telling me that the feathers will bulk together. I understand!  I ask him why he is not going to chemically clean it ... but I do not fully understand, yet he says it would still be wet. Then having filled in his form and taken my name I ask when they will be ready.  I have not yet paid!  He announced September 15^th, which is in 20 days!!!!!!!  I exclaim that this is far too long as I am expecting visitors and the weather might change but NO… the monsieur is not for turning!  I decide this is an unacceptable period for an unacceptable amount and tell him nicely that it is not possible and go to gather up my duvets.  As I do this, he surprises me. He BANGS his hands down on the counter and screws up his form, throwing it across the room behind him!  I quietly say “Ooh la la monsieur, Ooh la la”. As I exit the door I call breezily “Bon journée.”  
What amazed me is that:

Le monsieur was working at his crossword page when I arrived and clearly was not pressed at Le Pressing!  

What is it about a very teeny, tiny proportion of French people who appear to not wish to accommodate a service for their business!!!!!!!!

This happened with a local restaurant recently. We arrived at 20h30 and were refused service because although they were only three people, they had been working since 8am, were tired, plus the proprietress said they had run out of food as it is almost the end of the season and close at 21h!   It is still hottest August!!!!  However, at least they sold a take away pizza as this seems to be about all my 4 year old grand daughter who rarely sleeps wanted to eat!!!!!!!! 

At that restaurant I expressed surprise, saying that I thought custom is important for the survival of a business!  We would have spent at least 60 euros but it was their loss and ours too!
I made an omelette! 
LESSON OF THE DAY
In our region of France decide to eat earlier in the evening and book a table!  I know that but it was difficult to impress my family with this idea. Now they know!

Yesterday

Yesterday......
PART ONE
oh George, oh Paul, oh John, oh Ringo, oh The Beatles, oh how I used to weep between screams and smiles of joy, of sentiment, of being on the edge of a cliff of musical, magical, majestical mystery.
PART TWO
Yesterday ....... was a stormy day... in more ways than one.

Yesterday, I sat on a bench under the hands of horse chestnut trees, whilst rain penetrating through leaves dropped drips, one by one, onto my blue-grey rain mac and in my hair, as I sat and studied  lightning across a river valley, watching rain fall against the backdrop of trees. Birds stopped song and flight as rain fell and when the clouds abated, the feathered friends struck up their tunes and were seen to fly from place to place, for it was not yet 9 o'clock in the evening.

Yesterday, I sat under the leaves of conker trees and smelled the damp bark. I leaned against the tree and wished to hug the strength out of it.  I witnessed conkers lying on the ground from last Autumn.  I looked up into the canopy of green and felt protected.  My wistful melancholy whimpered at my soul like a French nightingale with all the joys and happinesses of Spring and Summer but solitariness seethed towards a wonderment about people and existence.

Yesterday, I sat wishing I had my camera, purse and tissues, for I had nothing except my self and what I wore. Then CLOCK. I see before me a Toyota MR2 sports car with a GB number plate... ah ha .. English people are here.  Ah ha, and what is this, as a Porsche Boxster S parks alongside it. "Bonsoir" le monsieur dit a moi. "Bon soir Monsieur" je dit.  "Hello".  He discusses the weather and who they are visiting and asks me something where I reveal a twist in the day but reveal nothing more than the wistfulness of a stormy day.  I ask if he has seen me before, for he is quite friendly! He offers to bring a glass of wine as he clutches his two bottles of red to the place he is going to.  Of course he never arrives. Why would anyone in a thunder storm want to return to a wet bench under trees with two glasses of red in his hand when he is the age of my son?
But oh, I dreamed that he would..for a person to talk to and not to talk about me... oh no... for as I have been told I am as mad as a biscuit and I am told that I dream fancifully.
There I am in a film set ... rather as Bathsheba in the storm. I see Troy with Fanny as the rainstorm flooded the earth and spoiled the crops and yet made characters strong to allow love to win through tragedy.    Oh such a fanciful imagination in search of company and more than that... normality.

PART THREE
Wishing to maintain privacy, just let me say that the following day I was feeling so good that after almost 3 hours of mowing grass, I walked far into countryside at a pace, descending and climbing a circuit of stone steps, lanes, streets and pavements about the village and its environs.  I courageously knocked on a door to see if I could discover this person to explain that I do not normally sit in rain and thunder storms. These English people were so kind and not at all phased...so French really... we showed interest, discussing all manner of things French and English, their lives and mine. They fed me a most amazing 3 course meal followed by coffee.  I hope I can return the conviviality.

PART FOUR

Yesterday... I was told by an English person that I look French...oh oh oh... MY MY MY! J’ai arrivé.
I do actually have ancestors who are from Nîmes et de Nantes. How good do I feel!!!!!!!!

Life is looking up!!!!!!!

Verbosity

This word, I am avoiding repetition, is evidently supposed to be a no-no for writing, and for some, for speaking.
Do I talk too much?
Evidently, yes, when too much alcohol has been consumed. I accept that and try to curb my intake for my age!
Sometimes when I have had coffee, I know I become eloquent / verbose!
Sometimes when nothing has been imbibed, I get over-enthusiastic.
I try to listen with attention.  I thought I was a good listener.
I try hard to let the other person speak because I learn so much.
Once a friend used to let me talk, then after many months, nay years, complained that I talk too much.
I can see that the ploy of some when asking others to speak about themselves can indicate a lack of self-confidence putting them into a position of power to wrong foot the person ... Cynic that I am!
Do I write too much?  Maybe!!!!!! Sometimes!!!  Yes I do!!! And sometimes I, me, moi, just love it!
That last line is deliberately verbose!!!
The cure for verbosity is: 

•  to rephrase each sentence deleting as many words as possible
•  to use one word instead of several
•  to use bullet point
• to engage the listener or reader, so as to avoid their boredom from the use of flowery language and excessive use of words!!!!

Definition of verbose adjective long-winded, wordy, garrulous, windy, diffuse, prolix, tautological, circumlocutory, periphrastic, pleonastic

When drunk, he becomes pompous and verbose.

BUT I like writing and attempt creativity with words, trying to avoid the use of AY, AYE, EYE and I.
I certainly would not wish anyone to consider my writing to be TEDIOUS so perhaps it is time for re-assessment, acknowledgement and change.   What do you, the reader, think?

Cloud Cuckoo Land

A friend says that I live in Cloud Cuckoo Land with a fanciful imagination and unsatisfied desires. This is true.  There are so many things I would like to do in life but feel held back by fears or lack of funds, courage, time, skills and talents!   Maybe this is the same for everyone?

Although I know what the phrase means I thought I would turn to my great educator, the world wide web, and so Wiki says:

The reference comes from The Birds, a play by Aristophanes in which Tereus helps Pisthetairos ("Mr. Trusting") and Euelpides ("Mr. Hopeful") erect a perfect city in the clouds, to be named Cloud Cuckoo Land.    That is just so fascinating.  I have improved the poem for the friend:

Cloud Cuckoo Land perfection is grand.

Hinting that I may, be unaware or fey,
Deranged and marginised, naive on every side.

Ever an optimist, it's true, happy is better than the horrid blues,

Living needs a hint of hope,  than to go to bed and mope! 

Life is lovely in a daisy dream world, more fun than being an unhappy bunny girl

When reality brings me to earth with a fall, Lovelier to have dreamed than not dreamed at all.

Diversionary Thinking

I struggled to move. Thinking was all I could do!

Where is inspiration?

Where is energy?

Where is diversion but not avoidance? 

Where is action but not reaction?

Where is forwards and onwards?

Where is creativity?

Where is motivation?

When the mind whispers insistently, subtly, softly stay in bed and not move

When the back screams sharp acute pain to keep still

When mental argument ensues because

the body has to be warm

the body has to put logs on a fire

the body has to put hot water in a rubber bottle

the body has automatic functions relating to food and drink

It cannot just lie prone when it is tired or lazy or in pain.

The mind and the body have a hidden agenda; they meet.

The mind and body argue but my ear cannot hear their silent dispute
The mind takes control and makes the body pause to rest

The mind takes control and makes the body move to act
The body takes the mind into control and keeps it working

For life never stops, until it stops, and does not breathe.

The mind and the body are the inspiration for the automatic next step 

of whatever it is that needs to be done for as long as life survives

They do what needs to be done.

They take hold and control decisions if one waits sufficiently long.

They move limbs forwards and onward.s

They are energy making energy.

They create order out of chaos.

They motivate and react to make action.

They address what is avoided

The diversions arrive.

There has to be mobility of mind and body.

All this happens if one lies still, quietly alone for sufficiently long without interruption.

The mind decides when it is time to sleep or to wake, to read or to ponder, to drink or to eat, to listen to music, to create, to shower or to bathe, to go out, stay indoors, to contact another or keep alone, to laugh or to cry, to sing or  reflect, to pull up the weeds, to plant a bulb, to dig the earth, to contact the soil for which we owe a life.

The mind controls the body in everything we do, think or say.

It is automatic.

It is such beauty.

It happens without any effort on our part.
See. 
Wait.

Down to the floor again and again,
whether I am in the shower or wherever I am
with unwanted thoughts, sometimes no thought at all.

Then without anyone's help I notice I pick myself up, bounce back, get moving.

The screaming back and the screaming mind quieten and eventually remain silent for a while.

They have not won.

The thoughtful negative mind eventually finds strength to become positive.
A smile creeps in.
Always it is so.
HOPE on the horizon begins to shine like the sun.
The mind allows contentment to return

The mind allows body movement to lift up from the horizontal

to stand vertical to face the world
to win against adversity
until winning cannot lose and loss succumbs to another world.

How fascinating to see and to wait.

How wonderful to know that pain is inconstant and moves away.
How grateful to know that NOW is not the time to not move and NOW is not the time to not think.
Life thankfully continues.