I was duped!
The weather has been wet, grey, humid, miserable with occasional glimpses of the golden orb!
We have also been working at the kitchen.
Me? I am the client, the support, the skivvy, the observer, the organiser, the finder of lost tools, the person to be consulted about "would you like it like this or this?", the second pair of hands, the person who tries to keep up morale when IKEA kitchen problems arise....
He? He has been the one to use intelligence, skills and expertise on how to put it all together.
We are nearly at the end of the process but not without a few dramas and visits back to IKEA... and still another one is necessary because the second tap also drips very slowly, but it drips and I shall return it and go to a different shop to spen a little more money on a quality tap .. maybe Grohe.
In addition, for the last 4 to 6 weeks the courtyard has been dug up because the mains drains needed attention. We have installed one Clark drain cover for the existing rodding section which we left below pavement slabs, sand and gravel. There is another one to instal but we are awaiting delivery of a smaller Clark drain cover.
Today the specialist should arrive on the third date given to make a third rodding drain cover on the public road. In addition the pipes have to be resited a little so that they have the correct direction of descent!!!!!!!!!!
I really do not need a fourth 'dig up' of the waste system to ensure there is no further backup! There was enough of that at my previous French residence and it's all very well with strong arms but I don't have those nor the inclination to rod the drains!
Almost a month since I posted on my blog, but I have been disinclined. It takes time to focus, load photos, type text, and I just have not been focussed on this form of diary!
Perhaps when I have more of my own time again, or before, I will be able to report on my kitchen progress.
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Monday, 4 July 2016
Wednesday, 10 February 2016
Wtfiiaa?
This particular blog started as a way of recording the renovation of a property... much as many others have used a blog format as a journal.
However, it also became unintentionally, a vehicle for an emotional journey, after the break-up of what I thought was a relationship made-in-heaven. No such thing exists, I have discerned. My vulnerable dream was shattered by my own negative energies and those of another. My dream of having a relationship that incorporated all that I dreamt of in terms of 'happy family' sharing when my parents never did, came to fruition fleetingly and then was quickly dissolved by irritability. scorn, criticism and blame and maybe other stuff. Let's not go down that road for now!
This blog has seen a few up and down episodes of my personal life since 2010 or whenever I started to blog, in retrospect to that time that I bought my property. This blog has also commented on places and events. It has witnessed my observations of, and in, my village and surroundings. I try to avoid personal and family pics. I try to be cautious with global internet exposure but sometimes fail!
On occasions I tried the challenge of blogging every day of a month by writing articles ahead of time when the facility to do that became a possibility, or I discovered it! It takes time to get photos prepped and an article written. I have posted deliberately and unconsciously as a form of creativity, as well as avoidance of doing other tasks - let's call that procrastination!
Sometimes I write ahead, then edit and re-edit before publishing. Most often I write and publish. To the discerning few who bother to read this ego-centred self-published material, they may have identified that sometimes I edit after publishing. Sometimes I feel I've been too public with the emotional outpouring. Or a poem needs to be improved or altered to make it, in my mind, better! Or my form of dyslexia has come to be too garbled in its word-salad, so I have to rewrite the nonsense sentences into ones that can be understood and not misinterpreted!
Sometimes there have been major gaps between postings, where I've become silent, unmotivated, dispirited, when words or creativity are blocked. The gaps might signify I have been occupied or that I have nothing worthy of publication. The gaps may signify that I have been in a dark hole of depression or contemplation of the thought: "W--- t-- f--- i- i- a-- a----?"
This posting is in itself an admission of that. Excuse me for any sensitivities of the use of an expletive. Isn't it amazing how few letters are required for one to be able to read a sentence? My children at school loved that they could read, if I covered the ascenders or descenders of letters!
It is also an admission that I do NOT produce this for others... I produce it for me. Very ego-centred! I am aware and what is wrong with that form of artistry? I do not seek compliments but if you wish to make them then I feel honoured. If you feel you want to refute me or disagree then you can do that too! My blog is a kind of diary. I am proud of it. I am proud of the progress I have made in writing skills when at the end of my career I was writing absolute goobledy-gook for important documents: no one told me!!! - no one even understood - least of all did I realise that dyslexia manifests itself under stress. I feel it is remarkable what I have achieved given that at the age of 17 I had not much idea about literacy! From an early age I read the dictionary at bedtime to learn vocabulary and spelling because I'd read the main reading material - the family print company's selection of Charles Dickens novels.
I have made progress coping with and in the particular challenges I've experienced of living in France. All the downs and all the ups. It is called LIFE and possibly would not be any different wherever I lived. I am who I am! However, I think the very fact that one lives in a different culture where the primary language is my secondary language, does make an enormous difference to sanity, as also does the fact that the country is huge. To go to a supermarket or anywhere to experience culture is a often a long journey necessitating the ownership of a vehicle!
My former blog tried very hard to gloss over the hidden REALITY that was not exposed to others in the lifestyle that my former partner and I were living, although there were some who knew and who were helpless to help, because as for all of us, there is only one who can make a difference, and that person inside us needs a certain amount of knowledge, skills and talents that perhaps doesn't quite exist when it is required. Some friends and members of my family said they would not read either of my blogs because the first was not REAL! It was my real! It was often the better parts of life as it stood then in a chocolate box cottage surrounded by sheep and a pony where I learned to write poetry. We had some wonderful positive experiences and I really should find the time and expertise to transform these blogs into book format. For me. for my grand child. For posterity or they can burn it at a later date!
People make things. I have done so. I made music. I fed children's curiosity. I have in the past sewn, crocheted, knitted etc. I like to write. My poetry is quite substantial now and this too I would like to get published alongside my photography such as it is!
Meanwhile the spectre of a kitchen room haunts me...
It seems so obscene, the price it will cost to have the kitchen room electrics rewired for first and second fix! The flooring seems reasonable but I am undecided on wood or ceramic that looks like wood but I think real wood will win the day! Then the furniture and appliance costs seem so obscene. Yet what I love is expensive. I have expensive tastes as a pauper! My mother aged 89, said to my daughter when giving her a Christmas gift and not one for me, that I have everything I need!!!!!!! Maybe she is correct. I have relatively exceptional health for someone my age and I am stil young even if old but I hold no bars to my daughter...who gasps at some things I say... and yet it is tame, very tame, compared to some tigers! All my life my mother has always said that I have ideas above my station! And indeed I have... and wtfiiaa in this isolated west facing property on the outskirts of a beautiful ( so they say) village!!!! They don't live here! Let's not go down that road.
However, it also became unintentionally, a vehicle for an emotional journey, after the break-up of what I thought was a relationship made-in-heaven. No such thing exists, I have discerned. My vulnerable dream was shattered by my own negative energies and those of another. My dream of having a relationship that incorporated all that I dreamt of in terms of 'happy family' sharing when my parents never did, came to fruition fleetingly and then was quickly dissolved by irritability. scorn, criticism and blame and maybe other stuff. Let's not go down that road for now!
This blog has seen a few up and down episodes of my personal life since 2010 or whenever I started to blog, in retrospect to that time that I bought my property. This blog has also commented on places and events. It has witnessed my observations of, and in, my village and surroundings. I try to avoid personal and family pics. I try to be cautious with global internet exposure but sometimes fail!
On occasions I tried the challenge of blogging every day of a month by writing articles ahead of time when the facility to do that became a possibility, or I discovered it! It takes time to get photos prepped and an article written. I have posted deliberately and unconsciously as a form of creativity, as well as avoidance of doing other tasks - let's call that procrastination!
Sometimes I write ahead, then edit and re-edit before publishing. Most often I write and publish. To the discerning few who bother to read this ego-centred self-published material, they may have identified that sometimes I edit after publishing. Sometimes I feel I've been too public with the emotional outpouring. Or a poem needs to be improved or altered to make it, in my mind, better! Or my form of dyslexia has come to be too garbled in its word-salad, so I have to rewrite the nonsense sentences into ones that can be understood and not misinterpreted!
Sometimes there have been major gaps between postings, where I've become silent, unmotivated, dispirited, when words or creativity are blocked. The gaps might signify I have been occupied or that I have nothing worthy of publication. The gaps may signify that I have been in a dark hole of depression or contemplation of the thought: "W--- t-- f--- i- i- a-- a----?"
This posting is in itself an admission of that. Excuse me for any sensitivities of the use of an expletive. Isn't it amazing how few letters are required for one to be able to read a sentence? My children at school loved that they could read, if I covered the ascenders or descenders of letters!
It is also an admission that I do NOT produce this for others... I produce it for me. Very ego-centred! I am aware and what is wrong with that form of artistry? I do not seek compliments but if you wish to make them then I feel honoured. If you feel you want to refute me or disagree then you can do that too! My blog is a kind of diary. I am proud of it. I am proud of the progress I have made in writing skills when at the end of my career I was writing absolute goobledy-gook for important documents: no one told me!!! - no one even understood - least of all did I realise that dyslexia manifests itself under stress. I feel it is remarkable what I have achieved given that at the age of 17 I had not much idea about literacy! From an early age I read the dictionary at bedtime to learn vocabulary and spelling because I'd read the main reading material - the family print company's selection of Charles Dickens novels.
I have made progress coping with and in the particular challenges I've experienced of living in France. All the downs and all the ups. It is called LIFE and possibly would not be any different wherever I lived. I am who I am! However, I think the very fact that one lives in a different culture where the primary language is my secondary language, does make an enormous difference to sanity, as also does the fact that the country is huge. To go to a supermarket or anywhere to experience culture is a often a long journey necessitating the ownership of a vehicle!
My former blog tried very hard to gloss over the hidden REALITY that was not exposed to others in the lifestyle that my former partner and I were living, although there were some who knew and who were helpless to help, because as for all of us, there is only one who can make a difference, and that person inside us needs a certain amount of knowledge, skills and talents that perhaps doesn't quite exist when it is required. Some friends and members of my family said they would not read either of my blogs because the first was not REAL! It was my real! It was often the better parts of life as it stood then in a chocolate box cottage surrounded by sheep and a pony where I learned to write poetry. We had some wonderful positive experiences and I really should find the time and expertise to transform these blogs into book format. For me. for my grand child. For posterity or they can burn it at a later date!
People make things. I have done so. I made music. I fed children's curiosity. I have in the past sewn, crocheted, knitted etc. I like to write. My poetry is quite substantial now and this too I would like to get published alongside my photography such as it is!
Meanwhile the spectre of a kitchen room haunts me...
It seems so obscene, the price it will cost to have the kitchen room electrics rewired for first and second fix! The flooring seems reasonable but I am undecided on wood or ceramic that looks like wood but I think real wood will win the day! Then the furniture and appliance costs seem so obscene. Yet what I love is expensive. I have expensive tastes as a pauper! My mother aged 89, said to my daughter when giving her a Christmas gift and not one for me, that I have everything I need!!!!!!! Maybe she is correct. I have relatively exceptional health for someone my age and I am stil young even if old but I hold no bars to my daughter...who gasps at some things I say... and yet it is tame, very tame, compared to some tigers! All my life my mother has always said that I have ideas above my station! And indeed I have... and wtfiiaa in this isolated west facing property on the outskirts of a beautiful ( so they say) village!!!! They don't live here! Let's not go down that road.
Wednesday, 12 November 2014
Walking on a Wild Side of France 2
I've been experimenting with short story writing style and have rewritten the 'Tale of Yesterday' in the previous but one posting, in the third person, to see what difference it creates. Apart from blog post writing I haven't published any stories and poems, which are mostly based on personal experiences, like many a writer! Now, if anyone, has thoughts, I ask for an honest crit, warts and all! It'sabout 1030 words in length. Read aloud as a voice tells a story differently than if one reads silently.
I found the exercise useful as it allowed the play of more descriptive passages. I seem to have spent many hours writing but I enjoy it. As the wrist is now caput after mowing a lawn, and lifting a basket of very wet grass from the mower as it caught awkwardly and lifting one end of a heavy sofa I've found the simplest of tasks that the right hand is required to do impossible! However, I can support it on the table as I type! It is strapped! Annoyingly, it won't let me play the piano!
Walking on a Wild Side of France 2
A Tale of Yesterday
They were blessed with weather that was not wet, windy, hot, cold, blue-skied or cloudy, though a few mackerel clouds had started to form as sunset approached. They were energised as they came to the end of a journey! It had been an exhilarating fast walk, lasting about two hours, trudging through Autumn leaves with muddy puddles to skirt around, along a route, part of which she had experienced about 6 years ago with a French walking group, and part of which was new to her.
She loves the circular walks from her house along roads and grassy footpaths, down into the valley, along by the river, weirs and old water mills, high on a cliff ridge, or out on the agricultural plain surrounding woodland and ponds. Here she can abide with nature, she can wonder at tumbledown stone ruins or stone buildings still in use. She can wander along ancient walls man-made with stone where moss and fern are prolific. She can smell ancient stones and marvel at the decay of leaves, fungi and trees. In a different season her heart jumps with joy as birds on the wing sing songs to her whilst they flutter in the coming of Spring. However, just a few days ago, requiring adventure and stimulus, she considered exploring regions further from her house, which would mean driving the car to starting points where other circular walks could be tested!
Finding a suitable GR track with a signpost, she parked her car on the verge. Down the narrowing track they set their matching pace scuffing the beautiful autumn-coloured oak leaves, aware of the river on their left, yet a field or so away. They were walking downhill on rocks and slippery moss, keen to reach a safe vantage, concerned to be out of the way of what they at first heard, then witnessed. She was worried that the car would uncontrollably slide into them. An old man had given up trying to rev his squealing old French car up a leafy, slippery-wet slope and had parked in an unlikely place on a track parallel to the rushing river. Now, he was getting out of his vehicle. It was comforting to be with a friend where emerging out of a leafy tunnel of trees, they hadn't seen a soul. It is unusual to meet anyone on a walk in the wilderness of France but she had observed that unwanted thoughts creep into her mind when walking in woodland!
In the same sentence, acknowledging "Bonjour", he said it was beautiful weather and asked if they were afraid, to which she replied "NON". But as he started to walk uphill she asked "Pourquoi?" Ah, he voiced, hadn't they read or seen information concerning the fact that there might be aggressive persons about! How spooky and such a strange thing for anyone to say! Confidently, she affirmed that they were ok and dismissed the subject to enquire if it was his intention to drive uphill, but she couldn't understand what he muttered in his Gallic language. It wasn't important. He seemed harmless!
"Bon Journée, Au revoir."
They set off in the opposite direction to continue their exploratory walk, still with the river rushing on the left, and came alongside an escalade; a rock climbing exercise site! This part she remembered from the only time she had ever walked this way, when she had welcomed the shade of the glade in an extremely hot summer!
Out into open fields, yet following the river, with a field distance between them and it. Here they walked along a very straight track, waymarked white bar over a red bar. There was a person approaching, walking alongside his horse!
"Had they seen a boxer dog?"
"NON".
Later, when they came to a junction they looked back and saw him riding the horse in the distance. They wondered how he would find his dog in such a remote area! They wandered around the bend confident that the track was not the way.
"What's that?"
Fortunately, whilst standing on the sidetrack locating their position on the map they were away from danger. They'd heard a rushing of hooves. The horse without a rider galloped round the corner and into a wooded area. Crazy horse! Had he thrown his rider? With no sign of a human being they continued on their travels, for what could they do? Whereupon, after several minutes, a man could be heard running behind them and was out of breath. He told them that the horse had bolted, afraid of beefy red Limousin cattle, which were processing up a different hill on the other side of the field. On he ran. They followed in the wake of the unseated rider, in the path of the galloping horse, to turn right onto a muddy, puddled, leaf-strewn chemin, through different woodland with a sign to say it was a refuge for pheasants. Could they read? Here, her observant friend took note that the horse had come this way as there were recent horse-shoe shapes slewed on the grassy track, and later, fresh horse poo! They wondered if the rider ever found his horse and dog!! What a day for HIM... and THEM!
Tracking the map, her friend was intelligent enough to realise that where she thought they were was incorrect! She was glad that someone was not relying on her because lazily, she hadn't extricated her reading glasses from her bag! This made quite a difference to reading a map! River, woodland, power wires, randonnée signs indicated their map location. If that is the lilac route, then this must be the pale yellow route and so it was that they emerged by the car having walked in an elliptical route.
Home to delicious scones baked earlier that day, served with home-made mirabelle jelly, crème fraîche instead of butter and refreshingly hot 'Earl's Passion' tea in white porcelain cups. How civilised, as they discussed many things, even remembering the life and death of her friend’s mother and the life and death of her uncle.
Today: Remembrance Sunday.
Monday, 10 November 2014
Walking on a wild side of France 1
A Tale of Yesterday
We were blessed with weather that was not wet, windy, hot, cold, blue-skied or cloudy, though a few mackerel clouds started to form as sunset approached. We were energised as we came to the end of our journey! It was a marvellous fast walk for about two hours through Autumn leaves and muddy puddles to skirt around, along a route, part of which I experienced about 6 years ago with a French walking group, and part of which was new to me.
I love circular walks from my house down into the valley, along by the river, up beside the cliffs, out on the plain, but a few days ago I considered exploring the region further, which would mean driving the car to a starting point where a circular walk could be created!
Today, on the way, we met a man who had parked his car in an unlikely place on a track parallel to the rushing river. He'd given up trying to drive his old French car up a leafy, slippery-wet slope and had parked to get out of his vehicle. I had been worriedly concerned that he was about to lose control of his car and slide into us. We were walking downhill on rocks and slippery moss, therefore keen to reach a safe vantage, concerned to be out of his way! It was comforting to be with a friend as we were just emerging out of a leafy tunnel of trees where we hadn't seen a soul for some time. It is unusual to meet anyone on a walk in the wilderness of France but I have noticed that when in woodland unwanted thoughts creep into the mind!
In the same sentence, acknowledging "Bonjour", he said it was beautiful weather and asked if were we afraid, to which I replied "NON" and as he started to walk uphill I asked "Pourquoi?" Ah he voiced, hadn't I read or seen information telling me that there might be aggressive persons about! Spooky! Confidently, I affirmed that we were ok and changed the subject to enquire if it was his intention to drive uphill, but I couldn't understand what he said in his Gallic language!
"Bon Journée, Au revoir."
We set off in opposite directions and came alongside an escalade; a rock climbing exercise site! This part I remember from the previous time I had walked this way!
Out into open fields, following the river bank on a long straight track waymarked white bar over a red bar was a person approaching walking alongside his horse!
"Had we seen a boxer dog?"
"NON".
Later, when we came to a junction we looked back and saw him riding the horse in the distance. We wondered how he would find his dog in such a remote area! We wandered around the bend confident that the track was not ours.
"What's that?"
Fortunately we were away from danger as whilst standing on a side track, locating our position on the map, we heard a rushing of hooves. The horse without a rider galloped around the corner and into the wooded area. That was a close shave. Mad horse! Had he thrown his rider? With no sign of a human being we continued to the wooded area, whereupon after several minutes a man is heard running behind us and out of breath. He tells us that the horse bolted, afraid of the beefy red Limousin which were also processing up the hill on the other side of the field. We followed in the wake of the unseated rider, in the path of the galloping horse to turn right onto a muddy, puddled, leaf-strewn chemin through woodland, with a signed refuge for pheasants. Here, my observant friend took note that the horse had come this way as there were recent horseshoe shapes slewed on the grassy track, and later, fresh horse poo! We wondered if the rider ever found his horse and dog!! What a day for HIM... and US!
Tracking the map, she was intelligent enough to realise that where I thought we were, was not correct! Lazily, I hadn't extricated reading glasses from my bag! This made quite a difference to directions! River, woodland, power wires, randonnée signs indicated our map location. If that is the lilac route then this must be the pale yellow route and so it was that we emerged by the car having walked in an elliptical route.
Home to delicious scones baked earlier that day, served with home-made mirabelle jelly, crème fraîche instead of butter and refreshingly hot 'Earl's Passion' tea in white porcelain cups. How civilised as we discussed many things, even remembering the life and death of her mother and the life and death of my uncle. Today is Remembrance Sunday.
We were blessed with weather that was not wet, windy, hot, cold, blue-skied or cloudy, though a few mackerel clouds started to form as sunset approached. We were energised as we came to the end of our journey! It was a marvellous fast walk for about two hours through Autumn leaves and muddy puddles to skirt around, along a route, part of which I experienced about 6 years ago with a French walking group, and part of which was new to me.
I love circular walks from my house down into the valley, along by the river, up beside the cliffs, out on the plain, but a few days ago I considered exploring the region further, which would mean driving the car to a starting point where a circular walk could be created!
Today, on the way, we met a man who had parked his car in an unlikely place on a track parallel to the rushing river. He'd given up trying to drive his old French car up a leafy, slippery-wet slope and had parked to get out of his vehicle. I had been worriedly concerned that he was about to lose control of his car and slide into us. We were walking downhill on rocks and slippery moss, therefore keen to reach a safe vantage, concerned to be out of his way! It was comforting to be with a friend as we were just emerging out of a leafy tunnel of trees where we hadn't seen a soul for some time. It is unusual to meet anyone on a walk in the wilderness of France but I have noticed that when in woodland unwanted thoughts creep into the mind!
In the same sentence, acknowledging "Bonjour", he said it was beautiful weather and asked if were we afraid, to which I replied "NON" and as he started to walk uphill I asked "Pourquoi?" Ah he voiced, hadn't I read or seen information telling me that there might be aggressive persons about! Spooky! Confidently, I affirmed that we were ok and changed the subject to enquire if it was his intention to drive uphill, but I couldn't understand what he said in his Gallic language!
"Bon Journée, Au revoir."
We set off in opposite directions and came alongside an escalade; a rock climbing exercise site! This part I remember from the previous time I had walked this way!
Out into open fields, following the river bank on a long straight track waymarked white bar over a red bar was a person approaching walking alongside his horse!
"Had we seen a boxer dog?"
"NON".
Later, when we came to a junction we looked back and saw him riding the horse in the distance. We wondered how he would find his dog in such a remote area! We wandered around the bend confident that the track was not ours.
"What's that?"
Fortunately we were away from danger as whilst standing on a side track, locating our position on the map, we heard a rushing of hooves. The horse without a rider galloped around the corner and into the wooded area. That was a close shave. Mad horse! Had he thrown his rider? With no sign of a human being we continued to the wooded area, whereupon after several minutes a man is heard running behind us and out of breath. He tells us that the horse bolted, afraid of the beefy red Limousin which were also processing up the hill on the other side of the field. We followed in the wake of the unseated rider, in the path of the galloping horse to turn right onto a muddy, puddled, leaf-strewn chemin through woodland, with a signed refuge for pheasants. Here, my observant friend took note that the horse had come this way as there were recent horseshoe shapes slewed on the grassy track, and later, fresh horse poo! We wondered if the rider ever found his horse and dog!! What a day for HIM... and US!
Tracking the map, she was intelligent enough to realise that where I thought we were, was not correct! Lazily, I hadn't extricated reading glasses from my bag! This made quite a difference to directions! River, woodland, power wires, randonnée signs indicated our map location. If that is the lilac route then this must be the pale yellow route and so it was that we emerged by the car having walked in an elliptical route.
Home to delicious scones baked earlier that day, served with home-made mirabelle jelly, crème fraîche instead of butter and refreshingly hot 'Earl's Passion' tea in white porcelain cups. How civilised as we discussed many things, even remembering the life and death of her mother and the life and death of my uncle. Today is Remembrance Sunday.
Friday, 14 February 2014
Words from several years ago - adapted
How can we escape from words?
Some words are like gentle angels opening their wings and wafting gently into our hearts.
How can we fly with wings?
Words try to communicate
Sometimes therein lies miscommunication, misunderstanding, hurt, struggle, sorrow.
Words try to communicate
Sometimes are as soft as rain, or hot as the sun or like the lick of an ice cream
creating joy, positive feeling, cosiness, security, safety.
How we love to be loved.
Words are only words.
Often they are insufficient to express emotion.
Love is an inner struggle.
The greatest love is unconditional.
Those were my thoughts.
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Feeling the pain and rising above it........
I felt the breeze change last night. Autumn cometh.
The weather has changed: temperatures in / out for day / night have been similar for some time BUT NOW a 10C degree difference between outdoors / indoors accompanies the rain, scuppering an idea to clear the wood pile! Sabotage!
I feel Life's tempest brewing ......
I haven't posted because living alone allows too much opportunity for introspective thinking on making sense of this world and I am fast coming to the conclusion there is NO SENSE: it is all NON SENSE!
LIFE is short. Perhaps it has to be enjoyed no matter how hedonistic. I've invested too much time and energy in the man that I thought I loved. I know I did love him even back in 1998 when first we became unstable. Why has it lasted so long? Why does it take so long to heal?
MY STRUGGLE IS THAT I HAVE deeply rooted PRINCIPLES of prudishness, pride, honesty, loyalty, integrity, decency and dignity and feel that I should be honoured and cherished for my womanhood and that THAT is also what I should offer for any man who wants to be with me!
BUT IT AINT ALWAYS LIKE THAT!!!!!!
I've made errors of judgement with my principles / behaviour but I don't have to punish who I am.
One tries to go with the flow of life... tries to keep busy... tries to keep calm and reflect, consider motives for what I WANT TO DO IN MY LIFE, now that someone says I am a liberated woman with a thousand voices and says I rock his boat !
How nice! How flattering but it can't last!
BUT then the dream and reality of unreality crashes on the rocks! The rock is on a stormy sea. I clearly contributed to The Previous One's behaviour. it wasn't all my fault even though he blamed and criticised me for my imperfections, failings, weaknesses. THAT is exactly what he worked upon to keep me down whenever I got strong.
Why is it that my rebellious teenager or my playtime seeking child won't listen to my adult?
How much can anyone ever believe anyone?
How much can anyone trust others ... or is it all to be interpreted as a pack of lies as each one of us in the world seeks to meet our own individual needs in a selfish world?
Have I become too cynical?
Have I too much time to think?
Is it because I've been down on the floor so many times, picked myself up, dusted myself down and started all over again that I will keep doing that until I learn what it is I need to learn?
Someone please shout at me the blindingly obvious!
How can anyone ever protect themselves from the pain that is bound to come when one has had pleasure or feels bliss when it all disintegrates?
I get blissful whilst on my bike, whilst looking out with wonder across stubbled fields, clover, fields where millet ripens, huge leaved crops that must be the Nicotiana family ... tobacco, yellow and green sunflowers in serried ranks, praising the SUN, which I do too ...... I bow my head as I eat my apple and praise God for the fact that I am alive and mobile and my happiness pours forth into the world.
I need to be emotionally inert. That's a laugh a minute ... it'll happen when I am dead!
One tries to see good in everyone ... and know that as human beings we all feel the same ...
One tries to be compassionate and caring. I do try to love who I am and what I am so that I can share that love with others. It all sounds so trite.
One tries to know purpose in life and to what degree of fulfilment one could achieve for Self and to give to others.
I wish to meet new people, go to new places, hear new stories, do new things, see culture, so that I can learn more about REALITY.
I want to go travelling, be a hobo, but the time is not yet here.
There is a roof to be re-roofed, a kitchen to be gutted, a bunion to be lanced, logs to be collected / delivered / stacked and how to do this with a hobbly foot will be interesting and then the rest....
This the former professional, a sometimes feisty woman who used to juggle two kids as a single parent with a full-time teaching commitment working all hours that God sent in order to prove my worth (the failing school grew from a roll of 30 ish children to 120 on roll when I was Acting Head [for my sins]). I studied for my degree status at the same time. Before that the three of us lived in a house with subsidence where inside temperatures were below zero! Was I too busy with my job to take care of me and my kids. On reflection it did not seem to be enough but it has to be because it cannot be redone!
Mindful in solitude, I try to do the following but make little headway because of self-sabotage.
1. Wake up ... go to sleep.
2. Eat and drink a balanced diet to lose weight before the foot incapacitates me for 3 to 6 months.
3. Exercise - I spent too long on my bottom last winter. This Summer into Autumn I am proud of activity. I can easily walk fast for an hour in the morning and cycle for an hour or two each afternoon / evening. It is not enough. BUT is enough for someone who had M.E., who could not walk between two groynes on a beach without a helping hand, who had to crawl up the stairs and shuffle down on her bottom, who fell asleep whilst the kettle boiled!
4. TRY to tick off jobs and tasks...e.g. currently having to make a decision on MUTUELLE payments as this is a task that has been shelved for 7 years and the recent enquiry with quotes is one year old... I have to pay out for my health costs because I have chosen to live in France. Only a percentage is picked up by the NHS... (what is that these days?) Other goals must be to decide how to purchase a new vehicle so I pray that my little Clio keeps on moving....
5. TRY to Sort & Clear out STUFF I have not used, do not use, will never use again... Whew that is such a challenge!!!!!! There in my attic are family photos ... newspaper cuttings, memorabilia, treasured items of monetary and emotional value... There on my computer are photographic memories and a muddled collection of writings....and the whole story needs strategic thinking and a million ways of threshing to dump or keep in an honoured way. It's pretty scary to open sealed boxes from the past, when memories good and bad arrive to hit one in the head and heart. Currently the floor is littered with books not sold at the Books Festival ... not the same as a UK Literary Festival! but that is what this village needs to do. It is stuck in old ways and is not keeping up with modernity... One can't keep presenting the same format... We did that at school for sports day and barbecue nights and then someone came and shook it all up!!!!! It needed a revamp and so did we, the staff!
6. TRY to think clearly, proactively. logically. No thinking would be good too.
7. TRY to formulate ideas for a plan for the future!
8. Laugh A Minute! It keeps a level of sanity in the why of why this has happened in my life.
It's my blog... I can write about what I choose.
The weather has changed: temperatures in / out for day / night have been similar for some time BUT NOW a 10C degree difference between outdoors / indoors accompanies the rain, scuppering an idea to clear the wood pile! Sabotage!
I feel Life's tempest brewing ......
I haven't posted because living alone allows too much opportunity for introspective thinking on making sense of this world and I am fast coming to the conclusion there is NO SENSE: it is all NON SENSE!
LIFE is short. Perhaps it has to be enjoyed no matter how hedonistic. I've invested too much time and energy in the man that I thought I loved. I know I did love him even back in 1998 when first we became unstable. Why has it lasted so long? Why does it take so long to heal?
MY STRUGGLE IS THAT I HAVE deeply rooted PRINCIPLES of prudishness, pride, honesty, loyalty, integrity, decency and dignity and feel that I should be honoured and cherished for my womanhood and that THAT is also what I should offer for any man who wants to be with me!
BUT IT AINT ALWAYS LIKE THAT!!!!!!
I've made errors of judgement with my principles / behaviour but I don't have to punish who I am.
One tries to go with the flow of life... tries to keep busy... tries to keep calm and reflect, consider motives for what I WANT TO DO IN MY LIFE, now that someone says I am a liberated woman with a thousand voices and says I rock his boat !
How nice! How flattering but it can't last!
BUT then the dream and reality of unreality crashes on the rocks! The rock is on a stormy sea. I clearly contributed to The Previous One's behaviour. it wasn't all my fault even though he blamed and criticised me for my imperfections, failings, weaknesses. THAT is exactly what he worked upon to keep me down whenever I got strong.
Why is it that my rebellious teenager or my playtime seeking child won't listen to my adult?
How much can anyone ever believe anyone?
How much can anyone trust others ... or is it all to be interpreted as a pack of lies as each one of us in the world seeks to meet our own individual needs in a selfish world?
Have I become too cynical?
Have I too much time to think?
Is it because I've been down on the floor so many times, picked myself up, dusted myself down and started all over again that I will keep doing that until I learn what it is I need to learn?
Someone please shout at me the blindingly obvious!
How can anyone ever protect themselves from the pain that is bound to come when one has had pleasure or feels bliss when it all disintegrates?
I get blissful whilst on my bike, whilst looking out with wonder across stubbled fields, clover, fields where millet ripens, huge leaved crops that must be the Nicotiana family ... tobacco, yellow and green sunflowers in serried ranks, praising the SUN, which I do too ...... I bow my head as I eat my apple and praise God for the fact that I am alive and mobile and my happiness pours forth into the world.
I need to be emotionally inert. That's a laugh a minute ... it'll happen when I am dead!
One tries to see good in everyone ... and know that as human beings we all feel the same ...
One tries to be compassionate and caring. I do try to love who I am and what I am so that I can share that love with others. It all sounds so trite.
One tries to know purpose in life and to what degree of fulfilment one could achieve for Self and to give to others.
I wish to meet new people, go to new places, hear new stories, do new things, see culture, so that I can learn more about REALITY.
I want to go travelling, be a hobo, but the time is not yet here.
There is a roof to be re-roofed, a kitchen to be gutted, a bunion to be lanced, logs to be collected / delivered / stacked and how to do this with a hobbly foot will be interesting and then the rest....
This the former professional, a sometimes feisty woman who used to juggle two kids as a single parent with a full-time teaching commitment working all hours that God sent in order to prove my worth (the failing school grew from a roll of 30 ish children to 120 on roll when I was Acting Head [for my sins]). I studied for my degree status at the same time. Before that the three of us lived in a house with subsidence where inside temperatures were below zero! Was I too busy with my job to take care of me and my kids. On reflection it did not seem to be enough but it has to be because it cannot be redone!
Mindful in solitude, I try to do the following but make little headway because of self-sabotage.
1. Wake up ... go to sleep.
2. Eat and drink a balanced diet to lose weight before the foot incapacitates me for 3 to 6 months.
3. Exercise - I spent too long on my bottom last winter. This Summer into Autumn I am proud of activity. I can easily walk fast for an hour in the morning and cycle for an hour or two each afternoon / evening. It is not enough. BUT is enough for someone who had M.E., who could not walk between two groynes on a beach without a helping hand, who had to crawl up the stairs and shuffle down on her bottom, who fell asleep whilst the kettle boiled!
4. TRY to tick off jobs and tasks...e.g. currently having to make a decision on MUTUELLE payments as this is a task that has been shelved for 7 years and the recent enquiry with quotes is one year old... I have to pay out for my health costs because I have chosen to live in France. Only a percentage is picked up by the NHS... (what is that these days?) Other goals must be to decide how to purchase a new vehicle so I pray that my little Clio keeps on moving....
5. TRY to Sort & Clear out STUFF I have not used, do not use, will never use again... Whew that is such a challenge!!!!!! There in my attic are family photos ... newspaper cuttings, memorabilia, treasured items of monetary and emotional value... There on my computer are photographic memories and a muddled collection of writings....and the whole story needs strategic thinking and a million ways of threshing to dump or keep in an honoured way. It's pretty scary to open sealed boxes from the past, when memories good and bad arrive to hit one in the head and heart. Currently the floor is littered with books not sold at the Books Festival ... not the same as a UK Literary Festival! but that is what this village needs to do. It is stuck in old ways and is not keeping up with modernity... One can't keep presenting the same format... We did that at school for sports day and barbecue nights and then someone came and shook it all up!!!!! It needed a revamp and so did we, the staff!
6. TRY to think clearly, proactively. logically. No thinking would be good too.
7. TRY to formulate ideas for a plan for the future!
8. Laugh A Minute! It keeps a level of sanity in the why of why this has happened in my life.
It's my blog... I can write about what I choose.
Tuesday, 6 August 2013
Angles sur L'Anglin
that was created to my design with the skills of my former partner about
Angles sur L'Anglin.
It explains how he / I / we found this beautiful village and recently people have been asking how I came to live here. It's hard to find the short story! This explains!
I had intended to expand that particular Blog, but, within my inner psyche, I was locked, blocked, stuck, ashamed. in regret, in remorse, in bereavement. It was and has been and IS difficult to accept and acknowledge all the good that there was In a Previous Life!
Indeed, I might add to that blog for which I have paid the domain name, but for the Now, I have other objectives. I enjoy self-publishing my photos and scripts as part of being Restless in France.
Perhaps it is time to publicly celebrate MY STORY and not to hide the past.
I'm wishing to remember and celebrate my past, my life, my long friendship with my former soulmate. I'm wishing to celebrate who I am and where I've been to get to where I am, despite the LOSSES experienced and despite an emotional HELL that I seem to have allowed myself to go through, for whatever reason. Agreed, it is nothing compared to what others bear in their lives. It is just who I am. I seem to feel things very deeply and wish I didn't.
Nevertheless that does not diminish the love I have for my inner core and the love I have for other people and things. Most of the thoughts that are truly in my head are linked to emotions. To stop them or put them into a box may mean to become mentally and emotionally inert. I don't know about that! I am told that I have to put the past to bed in order to heal, to prevent the inner torture.
It is ironic that I come to live on a street called the Road to Hell and another plot is number 13. I never knew these facts when I signed for the property. If I did, I would not have completed the purchase. This actually makes me laugh... because what else can one do but see the humour in the twists and turns of life... otherwise one would go completely barmy and need the institutional nuthouse!
It is impossible to believe that once I was a person of social standing with more responsibilities for others than I could manage!
However, here I am, mostly extremely happy to live in this most beautiful of villages despite that sometimes perhaps I do not make as much of my life every day as that which I could! I miss many things. The clock is ticking as I search for the next adventure!
Wednesday, 30 May 2012
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:
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?
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?
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
Recommencing Renovation in September 2010
From September 2010 we recommenced tranquility and renovation work. We began to make three rooms habitable. It was no easy feat!
Blogging
My energy and enthusiasm was zero for blogsite postings for a new website with blog that my friend had created. At that time this blogsite had not been envisaged. It has taken me over a year to have a creative mind to out order into my writings and the events of my life.
Exhaustion
Increasingly I found it difficult to wake early. Despite being exhausted and with cold weather approaching, my friend was motivating and a disciplined driving force waking me up, getting me out of his house to work at my house. At weekends we collapsed with fatigue. His expertise as a builder converted the rough and horrid to the smooth and beautiful and he gave me training in the use of power tools. I have a great deal to be thankful for. I cried so much every day. I wanted to give up. But I couldn’t.
Research
Architectural plans had to be made and acceptance gained from the Maire, and research had to be made into double-glazed units, flooring and sub flooring, woodburners, water heaters, doors,
Double Glazed Units
The estimates for creating 19 double glazed units for the doors / windows was unbelievably unaffordable so we researched the costs of phonic and thermal glass. In October 2010 the units arrived from UK but my friend only had time to repair the doors and windows of the two smallest rooms. They were in a very bad way. Worked stopped in May 2011 and when we recommenced renovation in November 2011 we’ve had to focus on the bathroom.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)