No postcards

Roman votives were so small and interesting that I kept returning to that particular cabinet. BUT in my opinion the exhibition room lighting was inadequate ... whoops ... oh dear, i was informed that THE British Museum dictate the exhibition at each museum with disregard to the lighting! They also had not realised that my shadow falls on tiny objects in the glass case,  masking detail in the metalwork. Also, I needed a magnifying glass to see the intricate markings amidst the artefacts of animals, rings and brooches. It was an exhibition of the Roman Empire displaying more than 160 pieces from the British Museum. There were no postcards of these magnificent miniatures that interested me! A sales opportunity missed!

We visited 'the Egyptians' where Little Miss Muffet wished to show me the mummified woman ... below were scarab artefacts which reminded of scarab jewellery I own... I have always loved the eye of Horus in its variant designs.. I love turquoise and those who have auras of that hue.
Proceeding on: the famous  teapot collection seems to be reduced.
The taxidermy, not a favourite, is a bit stuffy, but I AM always fascinated by beetles (although I prefer them to be moving) ... and fossils always stand the test of time!  Lowry was on display... and textiles ... Roman knitwear was fascinating.  Wow ... it is not exactly concessionary to go to museums in UK!  Educational ... yes! Enjoyable... certainly! It was a privilege to do what I very often do not do!

Disorder of Sundays

People thought to be close can become so distant!
The demise of social order and a day of rest!
Bring back Social Sundays and the closure of commercial and capitalist premises!
A sense of loss today and the need to be where I belong!
FRANCE!

Film Review: Under The Skin

Weird is a word that described moments in my mind, disorientated but with eyes wide open.
I've seen enough art house cinema not to feel that movies can be radicalised but this WAS a bit extreme.  All the way I kept wondering what would come next yet couldn't imagine, although I had clocked the word ALIEN in my head.  I inwardly praised myself once I had become rather spooked to see the evidence of what WAS Under The Skin... the film seemed to suggest that none of us are what we appear to be...
The light at the end of the tunnel...when the circle of light transforms into an eye that enables light in our lives, helps us to see whilst we hear the sound of the train.
She had beautiful eyes and these were referred to in the film.
The van is being driven but we hear the train on the tracks.
The seductress and temptress.
She could seduce but not be seduced for if her skin was 'pricked' by a rose thorn or any other sharp or pointed thing her skin would split.  She would implode.
The stalker and the killer.
The biker and the walker.
The rapist.
Every woman's nightmare.
A male protector turns to seduce.
A female enjoys the attention.
Why is it always thus?
Transmogrification 
is a word in my mind as final scenes are enacted.
Black skin, white skin.
Red top, red lips,
Blood and Roses.
Fire.
Flames to Ashes... red to black.
Burnt.
Destruction.
Grey.
Up in smoke.
The skin of the dead will pop if allowed to fester.
Beneath the oil slick this is what happens.
I thought those images where she leads the victim to death, demise, a day of reckoning, were brilliantly clever and inventive: how men sank into oblivion was mesemerising....  
Wonderful photography.
Scenic landscapes.
Silence.
Evil.
As in the eye of a camera there is a juxtaposition of views that are given to US whilst we look at the movie against what is seen from the eyes of the actors and actress and of course the camera man and the director, not to mention the author of the book. 
Evidently, don't expect to match the novel and the film!
Intriguing, full of suspense...weird but wonderful.
I exited.
I looked at the 2014 world.
I became disorientated, uncertain of my next direction and my direction in life and kept thinking as I walked... Weird... Isn't life weird!

THE WHITE COMPANY cotton bedlinen after ironing!

Brand new unused-on-any-bed, 200 thread count Egyptian cotton bed-linen, after 8 washes with a Bosch machine that is hardly used plus Persil powder, water softener and fabric softener and Bosch steam ironed whilst wet... on at least four occasions!
I would not even put this on my own bed let alone that of guests!
I took them to a professional laundry service following others' advice, before I consider THE return to THE WHITE COMPANY... but this stupid laundry company have made black blotches on them and folded them differently ... even the original creases can still be seen...
It is at a cost of £14 in addition to the £133 that they cost me.
I WILL RETURN THEM in the original delivery box with all the original packaging,  once I get them back ( hopefully washed again! ) on MONDAY!!!!
I am an unhappy bunny!

Ten Years

It is ten years since losing my career path, the resulting depression on depression of fibromyalgia, a major debilitating op with the loss and recovery of a working bladder,  selling my beautiful 400 year old inn which was the accolade of my life,  moving lock, stock and barrel to France to not my own house, then suffering what I was told was abuse, becoming single again four years ago and buying my very own French maison which had no bathroom. Now it has, with much gratitude to a friend. I am learning to stop the tears, start LIVING and in fact I think I could say that the tears have stopped and laughter has returned!

The story became stuck in a rut on occasions whilst all the while there has been progress.
LIVING never stands still but mountains have to be moved to make it enjoyable and fun.
When I have fun, my younger, inner child laughs and skips with joy.

I recently wrote in my JOURNAL that:-

I feel alive and who I am... comfortable in my skin.
It has taken me longer than ten years to achieve a self- reliant happiness...
and oh how happy I mostly am.

Thank you to everyone who has crossed my path and travelled alongside me on my journey...
Thank you to HIM who made me go from his house , and put me in the position I am in today.. .
maybe it was all meant to be!  I
The door closed and others opened!
Thank you to everyone for their patience, tolerance and understanding, their love and empathy and willingness to see the good in me.  I am in awe and in appreciation of how you have all stood by me!

I love you all.

Metallic steel blue anemone

Steal the blue of purple anemones - one of my favourite flowers

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!

Self Exploration

The following thoughts whilst not original have been evolving for some time in my head.   

I help my Self when I help others.  Conversely, I hurt my Self when I hurt someone else. When we care for others we care for our Inner Self.  Some people have a greater propensity for helping others. Others appear self-absorbed, selfish, self-centred.  

 As I explore "Who I am", in what I perceive to be a small niche in a complicated world, I realise that I don't want to be involved in friendships or relationships that feel as if a game or part of a game is being played. At the same time, I have been trying NOT to play games with my inner Self; trying not to play with words, sentiments or emotions.  More frequently I am of the opinion that it's hard to rely upon myself as well as that some people cannot always be relied upon as everyone appears to be in a state of flux - a state of busy-ness. I hadn't really appreciated the fluidity of change in the Human Condition.     It annoys me if people blow hot and cold, play with emotions, yet, I believe that genuine friendship will stand the test of time and the most difficult of times.

I wish for honest, open, sincere, genuine, non-manipulative, non-controlling relationships and friendships, where there is mutual respect, trust, understanding of the individual, intrinsic kindness, care, tolerance, patience.  I seek people who do not have fantastical expectations, who work within REALITY/NORMALITY and who accept imperfections and limitations. MaintainingTRUE friendships despite distance or close proximity is difficult even if people are true to their word, thought or deed. 

I have a college friend from 46 years ago!  Despite years between meet-ups it always feels natural, normal, honest and committed.  She's a hoot, yet terribly sensible whereas I am reckless at times.  She's been through a different Hell, yet we both have survived our ordeals.

Ah... The Parable of the Sower.  I like the analogy that being part of a relationship / friendship is like being one of the plants in the soil.  In poor soil we become stunted. If the soil is good we mature. Therefore good relationships communicate honestly without fear.  Bad relationships aren'tt good for anyone. People seek positive friendships rather than negative ones which are not for our growth. I'm trying to weed out unhelpful undergrowth!!!

I can't help but be naive and vulnerable. It is who I am or have been.  The world has so much for me to learn about.  However, I DO try hard not to expect from anyone, to live in REALITY even though I am RESTLESS IN FRANCE.

Four years have passed and I realise that this is where my dearest friend and I went wrong;  a form of enmity arrived. We differed on basics, yet were close to each other, co-dependent, hanging on from abject fears, perhaps.   How very strange!  We expected too much from each other which led to disappointment, rejection, abandonment and becoming stuck in a rut. We were drowning and couldn't survive.  Life became stagnant, unfruitful, frightening as we began to age in another country without the natural intervention of family and friends.  It wasn't encouraging growth and it was heading for destruction.  Four years ago, I bought a house and there was hope for a new plan but the damage had been done. Now I value my freedom and the peace I find within me.  I thank him for releasing me from what became a prison for my soul and maybe his!   I know now I was in a different prison before I met him! At last, recently, he confessed that he finds it impossible to control his anger.  WOW, a turning point.  So, is he saying it wasn't only me!!!!!!! I tried to say anger is a waste of energy.

I understand anger because I know anger and also I find it hard to control emotional outpourings, words and tears. That is also a waste of energy! Although, I've known this for almost ten years, I accept it because it is my way of understanding and learning about me and people who didn't understand my capacity to just well up with tears. There have been times when I never knew why I cried but most of that is sorted.  The crying hasn't competely stopped because I also cry in joy and acute happiness BUT generally I am lighter of spirit, more fun to be with, relinquishing the story and gaining other tales.  "More natural and positive and it suits me", says my cousin. 

Open-ness, facing Truth about "Who I am", my strengths and weaknesses will help me to better communicate with others and to better communicate with my inner SELF.

Honesty has to exist with all the people I meet. I'm not afraid to tell what I perceive to be my truth. If another person doesn't like it and wants to be jealous, angry or whatever, then it isn't my problem.  I'm not intimidated by the angry moment.  I faced my angry father after he died and lived alongside anger from the person who I thought was the love-of-my-life. The pain of unrequited love is often too much to bear but I am dealing with it!  I've had to come to terms with my own passive, interior anger which would eventually erupt like Volcanic Etna  in frustration.  To my utter shame.  The ending of my career was when the management team  who should have been caring, taking responsibility to guide me, not to denigrate me, did not help me to see that I was ill when I became angry!

A person is not an island. We need friends indeed and in deed; people to support and help us understand worldly issues, the living and the dead from a different perspective.  

It broke my heart that I couldn't live in HIS house without HIS friendship.  The man I liked disappeared.  I was lost. We had to part, because we had to give each other the freedom to grow in a better soil, somewhere that would suit our needs, give us nourishment to suit our differing personalities, interests, beliefs. It annoys me that he won't talk to show that he acknowledges the facts...It can't be cured. there is no going back!  Maybe the 'books' are right and one just has to 'move on'. Recently,  I see a glimpse of the person I loved and who he once was ( and probably is), yet I know it will not die, even though I hope in the future I will truly love others.  True friendship never dies.

This last week as I respond to helping him sell his house, I become more aware of the deep non-romantic LOVE that I had and maybe have for my former partner.  For many years when people asked me HOW do I love that man who has hurt me so deeply inside, I always described it as a form of Compassion. I've witnessed his suffering and never knew what to do about it or how to help him.  At the same time, I struggled with my own suffering. He couldn't support me any more than I him!  It wasn't easy to live with that person for the rest of my life...nor him with me. 

'Wheels are moving' is an expression I have acquired to describe changes. I FEEL CONFIDENT that despite the past, it does not prevent me from LOVING HIM.... even though he and I have changed.... I struggled with this concept for a long time.  It seemed wrong but now I see that it isn't!  Our deeper friendship has stood the test of Time. I know that I can let him go on his adventures and be happy for him.  I may be very naive but I feel it is the TRUTH.  There is honesty from me to him, who has supported me in a weird way these last ten years!

I've written this because my blog has oftentime veered from house renovation to a story of struggle, a story of how I came to be here in France, of what I do, how I think/feel, attempting to make sense of what surrounds us.  It is about THE NOW as well as THE PAST and I know that THIS IS THIS and the future is beyond my complete control. All that withstanding, I learn about society and aspects which affect emotional and psychological states about which I have panicked and wept copiously. 

I've been travelling whilst I consider the words of this posting.

The sun rises on the horizon and until it sets I will attempt to be more compassionate for my friends and family.  In the last few weeks I've received positive comments.  I don't write all this to receive that... 
I write to bare my soul.... to show I am weak, frail, insignificant in this vast world but yet I am strong, a survivor with the gift of LIFE and LIVING.
I don't yet want it to stop... let me be on that carousel and make the world go round in JOY!

La Cueille

 

Beautiful and not so beautiful door furniture à La Cueille.

I like the patina on the door.

La Cueille is a steep slope where rainwater was collected!

LaTranchée des Anglais

Looking up and down La Tranchée des Anglais. I stopped to take these photos.

The English gained control over the Angles sur L''Anglin chateau in the Middle Ages when Guichard Angles abandoned it and King John Maupertuis (this might be incorrect) was defeated. The English, at night, widened a natural fissure, surprised the guards to overthrow the enemy!  In 1372 Du Guesclin used this passageway. 

Never mind history. Be your own soldier and run up and down the steep steps! It's good exercise!

Book Review: A Week in December

I wouldn't normally have chosen this subject matter to read but I had been having a Sebastian Faulks moment... when my bunion incapacitated me. I had borrowed this book from a friend.

I persevered and came to enjoy the different scenes in different chapters with different characters... it activated the mind and memory and I was not only pleased to reach the end but pleased that I'd had the challenge.

If you'd like a much more detailed book review then go to The Guardian!

Book Review: Charlotte Gray

The novel Charlotte Gray was written in 1999 by Sebastian Faulks with a film directed by Gillian Armstrong starring Cate Blanchet released in 2001.

I loved this book.   It was profound and emotionally educational unravelling some of the tangled thoughts about my own parental relationship.

page 474:
I was upset when she commented about how her father was emotionally and mentally damaged by his experiences in WWI.
I began to realise that my own parents may have been proud of me but they never ever praised me in all of my life. My mother once did say I was clever so maybe that counts!

I was in tears towards the end of the book: 

"She strained at the memory of her childhood, at the sense of some rapture lost. Yet it all remained like some frozen sea: great blocks of ice, submerged but static, and beyond the melting capacity of her conscious will."......... "her mother would turn form intimacy"

page 479 and after:
the author writes about a man's need and fears of being a father, a person, a man as a boy and how men can be a prisoner of sensual desire.... so I started to wonder about how people set themselves free from the chains that they have self-imposed.  When I was in my 30s or 40s I doodled many chains and wrote about myself being a prisoner but then I did not know what of!  I still have that INNER CHILD THERAPY JOURNAL.
page 482:
I had a kind of revelation.  I began to sob suddenly and uncontrollably as I realized that possibly I had never ever really thought about MY LIFE from my parents' viewpoint ...  It is what I have been expecting my grown up children to do! I want them to appreciate and understand that I think about their lives from my viewpoint and I think that perhaps one of them hasn't yet understood that and won't until he becomes a parent. 
page 483:
I interpret the author's writings:
The noise of shouting and violence... the sight and sound of torment, grief and horror cause the destruction of the softness of love.

``````````````````

In this novel, Charlotte Gray, a young Scot,  became involved with the French resistance at Vichy, in 1942, during the Second World War.  She'd traveled to London to work as a medical receptionist for a Harley Street doctor but on the train she shared a compartment with two men, one who works for the secret service and he invites her to contact him when the job gets boring. Despite the war, social life was in full swing and she soon meets an accomplished airman, Peter Gregory. The temporary nature of life at wartime brings romance where she loses her virginity and her heart. Peter is sent on a mission over France and becomes missing in action.  She joins a Special Operations Executive (SOE) training course where about one third of the women sent to France never returned. The secret service exploit her talent to speak French fluently and she is happy to return to France where she spent much of her childhood.  She passes interrogation to be a spy,  has her hair and dentistry adapted to look more like a French woman and is parachuted into France to complete a specified mission.  She goes AWOL and sets out to find Gregory.
Wikipedia says:
"The character of Charlotte Gray was based on a New Zealand woman called Nancy Wake who worked with the French Resistance near a village called Verneix in the Auvergne region. Instead of escaping she became a courier for the resistance but had to eventually flee to Spain and then England where she was trained by the SOE. She was parachuted back into France on 29 April 1944 and went on to lead a 7,000 strong resistance group in the Auvergne region. Her husband, Henri Fioca, was tortured and killed by the Gestapo for failing to reveal her whereabouts."

Quince blossom

 Closed shutters..................not a metaphor ... but they are down by the riverside!!!!!!! 

Rain collection

One can often see chains such where water flows from the gutter without a down-pipe. 

I'm not sure where the overflow must go!

Angles sur L'Anglin

London Small Room Art

February 2013 Visit to Aldgate:
Off to the ladies room at a café bar. Wall art inside the cubicle was fun.  An incessant chuckle ensued!

Chatellerault shop exterior

 

I have been meaning to capture this Quincaillerie exterior for the last 9 years. 

Now I see it has closed!

It is just to the side of the food market.

It has something (je ne sais quoi) about the colours, the sign-writing, the symmetry!

Animalia

Not quite like the song about the sale of a doggie in a window!
A fixed feature,  not far from La Place in Angles sur L'Anglin, 

one of 157 plus beaux villages de France.

Groovy Music

"Wild Thing" is what I wished to be as an adolescent in 1965 when I viewed the world from a window, restricted by The Parents from going anywhere that I dreamed of.....

I could see the world looked so exciting!

A few years later I was a "Free Bird" and off to the world of Study!

Flying colours

I was very happy to host accommodation for guests, one of whom I only met for about 10 minutes or so in September 2013.  They were extremely, embarrassingly generous with gifts of wine, coffee, nibbles and hand-made biscuits exquisitely presented all from Italy.  I celebrate and share the very warm glow of their comment:
"Thank you so much for your wonderful hospitality, generosity and lovely company." 
They are lovely people and are coming to live in my village.  It was my pleasure to meet them. And I am invited there!
 
My Italian vocabulary is veritably non-existent. I learned a little in music college for singing but now I need to have a crash course of study!  Fortunately, J is a linguist and could translate English into Italian for A who understands French. Another incentive to improve my French speaking, to learn French phrases, to think in French, to improve conjugaison and word order!!!!  Oh, workload and study must increase!

Evidently, the potential chambre d'hôte,  has passed the inspection test with flying colours.  Wow!!!!!
I need to get other domestic issues in place before I can achieve this ideal!

I have so much to thank my former partner for.  I could never have achieved the transformation of this house and garden alone or without him.  We have worked together as a team.  I know it has been hard for me (and probably him) and we have been through the most terrible of storms once the sea started to get choppy, when enmity replaced love, but I wish to celebrate HIM and HIS ACHIEVEMENTS, HIS attempt to make his workmanship impeccable.  Nothing is perfect in old houses and some stuff one lives with and after a while one does not see the imperfections!!!!   As he says "Who would have thought that someone who lived in an ultra modern home would ever live here in this French house by herself?"
 It is true that he had to lever me out of one house to another and from one country to another and face the fears that emotionally and physically paralysed me.  A friend indeed.

I thank him publicly for all the difficult times and fun times we had together.  He helped me be who I am, what I am and where I am. I changed and yet have not changed. I have grown up! And perhaps he has too!  I did my best to help him and support him but along the way we grew apart.  It is true that trauma is necessary as a learning tool but I wish it upon no one as I have had more than enough of trauma in my life time and now I feel as if I am beginning to live! I am afraid of the future but ready for the challenge. I hope he is too!

When I was in the classroom I learned not very much about my inner self ... and who I am... but since early retirement and that major op,  I have kept learning,  even though I did get stuck in a rut along the way!

Yesterday.....Spring......Arrives

 It is more than warm when layers are abandoned to one single layer, when leggings are discarded.

It is more than warm when Purple mugwort  Toothwort (Lathrea clandestina) bloom in the presence of starry-yellow celandines....

A root parasite with explosive seed capsules

 when water shimmers noisily, rushing as if it is late...

 down by the mill...

 in shafts of streaming sunlight...

 whilst buckthorn or blackthorn (I never know which) blossom makes a starry screen of a river view...

 and away from the torrent of the weir, I hear, high in the sky, the cry of les grues..

 two or three groups circling, gathering, combining, separating...

possibly 200 or more...

a passer by said they were looking for a resting place....
another passer by commented to his wife that they were following the river....

It mattered not to me, for I was in ecstasy, a witness to Spring!!!
Oh how I love being alive in France!!

I feel deliriously mad with JOY!!!!!!!!