 |
| First tiles are removed.....can you hear me gasp? |
 |
| The straightened toe hopes number 3 will settle |
 |
| The new panne sabliere to the left of the Lucarne |
 |
| The old panne sabliere to the right of the Lucarne |
Tuesday 22 October 2013
iphoto might have sorted itself
Let battle commence:
Monday 21 October 2013
The foot of the patient, the hat of the house and electrical matters
Post in the making.......
Photos will arrive but iphoto is a problem making the rainbow wheel spin constantly and boot up takes ages. Evidently the computer has one hard drive but it thinks it has others, so takes ages booting up. I have to discover how to solve the problem. Why don't computers have brains? So many promises were made to us humans over 30 years ago about technology which would give us more leisure time? Has it heck! All our time is occupied solving technological mysteries and in this instance, where there are several self-generating photo libraries, I can't find photos that I took and uploaded/downloaded yesterday! I used to enjoy learning technology but now it is tedious. I have other things to do! All I wish, which isn't actually completely true, is sometimes to be without the machine. Not possible, as it is my lifeline and limb to the real world beyond my roof, beyond my gates that my two feet would like to travel!
Three days of workmen on site has created dust and havoc. I wasn't really prepared for falling masonry or what is involved with roof tiles being removed. Yes I had prepared for dust etc. It's not the same as Lego. I wasn't happy that tiles were being thrown into the lorry with some falling onto the road. I suggested that they bring the lorry nearer, They didn't, yet on the 3rd day they did! I also think that sweeping skills need further training. On 3rd day, I suggested they swept the road just as they were about to drive off. No comment but they did. It took two men. One watched as the client swept the courtyard detritus towards number 2's shovel. I didn't wish to trip on broken tiles with my hobbly foot.
Two weeks have passed and although it is still painful for Mrs Hobble, days are getting better. The foot is sufficiently healed so as to climb ladders to take photos and then to cause me pain afterwards. I suppose I shouldn't climb the ladder but needs must! On Sunday, I had permission from the boss to climb the scaffolding which is sturdy and safe taking the weight of 4 men. I wanted to inspect the grenier after the thunderstorm of Saturday night. 30mm of wet stuff called RAIN. My brain has been as dead as a dodo since the op but there is nothing like drama to wake it up!!!!!
Water appeared where it shouldn't be; between shutters and doors of two rooms and on the kitchen floor. Quel horreur at 10 am Sunday morning. (My sleep patterns are completely awry.)
Basically the flat part of the wall high up where once there were tiles was not covered with tarpaulins, called baches in France. Water ran down the textile of the bris and flowed either side of the flat surface down either side of the stone wall. Guttering is of no consequence at the moment. A real no-no is to get stone walls wet. There had better be no water marks appearing LATER in my decorated rooms!!! On Friday, I had not noticed the situation on my roof, being "not alert". On Saturday I emailed the boss and asked if it was covered sufficiently as I could see that it wasn't. Yes, he says, it will be ok!!! On Sunday: Nature makes thunderstorms which roofers cannot predict! H'm... Me and my intuition!!!!! I have commented to him that it's vital to listen to a woman and more important to listen to the client!
ALSO they replaced one panne sabliere which does look like pine with treated pine but the other seems to look like oak. On Friday it hadn't been removed. I was in a quandary. I was tempted to be demanding and ask for oak even if it raised the devis, but was that being silly and unnecessary? I am a house caretaker. I want my roof to be beautiful as well as practical. Yes, I shall have a ten year guarantee but a roof should last 50 years or more. Can I be queen of my domain and get what I want? In the end I had to accept treated pine! The queen submitted to their knowledge!
I've taken photos of the renovation project and think that photos go a long way as a selling feature if I ever have to sell, though as yet I don't want to give in and return to UK!!!!!! Mind you if you heard me a few days ago this would not be true. I have been very low in morale but perking up as days go by!!!
I told the 3 artisans that I don't wish to see screws in the oak finition on the roadside edge. They should fix with proper plugs. I don't know what they are called... but you get a hexagonal wedge of acacia and thwack it into the joint to hold both pieces of wood together. It's traditional. Screws are useless. I intend to speak to the boss again about this. He is still looking contrite, even though I've warned him months ago that I have high standards.
Monday: they covered half of the Mansard roof that looks towards the sky, with tarpaulin at the end of the day. Tiles are removed and evidently battens and rafters are in a worse state than anticipated!!!!! I knew it was bad. Then I was told that there isn't a wall plate and so one has to be built. I need to research what that is! I think it holds the upper layer of slate tiles.
Monday: I find their electrical lead using my kettle socket. Investigation tells me I have no ceiling lights in the Oval room and kitchen, nor exterior light and one socket in the kitchen isn't working. That's why my bread didn't toast. I accepted cold bread because I wanted to leave the men to themselves for lunchtime! I let them use my kitchen as a dining room. I have no problem with that. They couldn't just tell me there was a problem, I had to ask why. Well it appears it is because they are now operating the hydraulic ladder to bring down tiles and that needs strong electrical power. We learned that there was only 10 ampere in that particular plug. So they used the one with 16. Fortunately I had some fuses and each of the fuse switches is different! Only in France!
I'll have to learn about amperes and get the electrician to return because despite consulting him three times the board labels are not correct.. why are there different amperes? .... why are prises and lampes mixed ... why do different rooms go onto one fuse and then other parts of the same room are on another fuse? I know. It's France!!!!!!!
To return to the roof. I am less anxious ... but will need to keep an eye on replacement of wood. It's pretty dangerous in that grenier and really I need to replace the floor structure... but ouch! I can't afford it as yet!
To return to the foot. It walked me up the lane about 100 yards and the muscles in the calves are not so anguished whilst compensating for walking on a heel. It was lovely to have a view of houses, plants, cars, a cat and know that it is much better to get out of the house!
Postscript Tuesday: the foot did not wish to go far in my house!
I've started a jigsaw and it reminds me of Harriet Edith Turner, my maternal grandmother, whose birthday would have been yesterday. We always did jigsaws, played cards or Monopoly and she showed me how to crochet and knit, to cook simple basic meals like bread and butter pudding, bread pudding, apples wrapped in her own pastry, slow roasts and casseroles. She was a very good bridge player, a gentle soul, always calm, worldly and lovely.
Photos will arrive but iphoto is a problem making the rainbow wheel spin constantly and boot up takes ages. Evidently the computer has one hard drive but it thinks it has others, so takes ages booting up. I have to discover how to solve the problem. Why don't computers have brains? So many promises were made to us humans over 30 years ago about technology which would give us more leisure time? Has it heck! All our time is occupied solving technological mysteries and in this instance, where there are several self-generating photo libraries, I can't find photos that I took and uploaded/downloaded yesterday! I used to enjoy learning technology but now it is tedious. I have other things to do! All I wish, which isn't actually completely true, is sometimes to be without the machine. Not possible, as it is my lifeline and limb to the real world beyond my roof, beyond my gates that my two feet would like to travel!
Three days of workmen on site has created dust and havoc. I wasn't really prepared for falling masonry or what is involved with roof tiles being removed. Yes I had prepared for dust etc. It's not the same as Lego. I wasn't happy that tiles were being thrown into the lorry with some falling onto the road. I suggested that they bring the lorry nearer, They didn't, yet on the 3rd day they did! I also think that sweeping skills need further training. On 3rd day, I suggested they swept the road just as they were about to drive off. No comment but they did. It took two men. One watched as the client swept the courtyard detritus towards number 2's shovel. I didn't wish to trip on broken tiles with my hobbly foot.
Two weeks have passed and although it is still painful for Mrs Hobble, days are getting better. The foot is sufficiently healed so as to climb ladders to take photos and then to cause me pain afterwards. I suppose I shouldn't climb the ladder but needs must! On Sunday, I had permission from the boss to climb the scaffolding which is sturdy and safe taking the weight of 4 men. I wanted to inspect the grenier after the thunderstorm of Saturday night. 30mm of wet stuff called RAIN. My brain has been as dead as a dodo since the op but there is nothing like drama to wake it up!!!!!
Water appeared where it shouldn't be; between shutters and doors of two rooms and on the kitchen floor. Quel horreur at 10 am Sunday morning. (My sleep patterns are completely awry.)
Basically the flat part of the wall high up where once there were tiles was not covered with tarpaulins, called baches in France. Water ran down the textile of the bris and flowed either side of the flat surface down either side of the stone wall. Guttering is of no consequence at the moment. A real no-no is to get stone walls wet. There had better be no water marks appearing LATER in my decorated rooms!!! On Friday, I had not noticed the situation on my roof, being "not alert". On Saturday I emailed the boss and asked if it was covered sufficiently as I could see that it wasn't. Yes, he says, it will be ok!!! On Sunday: Nature makes thunderstorms which roofers cannot predict! H'm... Me and my intuition!!!!! I have commented to him that it's vital to listen to a woman and more important to listen to the client!
ALSO they replaced one panne sabliere which does look like pine with treated pine but the other seems to look like oak. On Friday it hadn't been removed. I was in a quandary. I was tempted to be demanding and ask for oak even if it raised the devis, but was that being silly and unnecessary? I am a house caretaker. I want my roof to be beautiful as well as practical. Yes, I shall have a ten year guarantee but a roof should last 50 years or more. Can I be queen of my domain and get what I want? In the end I had to accept treated pine! The queen submitted to their knowledge!
I've taken photos of the renovation project and think that photos go a long way as a selling feature if I ever have to sell, though as yet I don't want to give in and return to UK!!!!!! Mind you if you heard me a few days ago this would not be true. I have been very low in morale but perking up as days go by!!!
I told the 3 artisans that I don't wish to see screws in the oak finition on the roadside edge. They should fix with proper plugs. I don't know what they are called... but you get a hexagonal wedge of acacia and thwack it into the joint to hold both pieces of wood together. It's traditional. Screws are useless. I intend to speak to the boss again about this. He is still looking contrite, even though I've warned him months ago that I have high standards.
Monday: they covered half of the Mansard roof that looks towards the sky, with tarpaulin at the end of the day. Tiles are removed and evidently battens and rafters are in a worse state than anticipated!!!!! I knew it was bad. Then I was told that there isn't a wall plate and so one has to be built. I need to research what that is! I think it holds the upper layer of slate tiles.
Monday: I find their electrical lead using my kettle socket. Investigation tells me I have no ceiling lights in the Oval room and kitchen, nor exterior light and one socket in the kitchen isn't working. That's why my bread didn't toast. I accepted cold bread because I wanted to leave the men to themselves for lunchtime! I let them use my kitchen as a dining room. I have no problem with that. They couldn't just tell me there was a problem, I had to ask why. Well it appears it is because they are now operating the hydraulic ladder to bring down tiles and that needs strong electrical power. We learned that there was only 10 ampere in that particular plug. So they used the one with 16. Fortunately I had some fuses and each of the fuse switches is different! Only in France!
I'll have to learn about amperes and get the electrician to return because despite consulting him three times the board labels are not correct.. why are there different amperes? .... why are prises and lampes mixed ... why do different rooms go onto one fuse and then other parts of the same room are on another fuse? I know. It's France!!!!!!!
To return to the roof. I am less anxious ... but will need to keep an eye on replacement of wood. It's pretty dangerous in that grenier and really I need to replace the floor structure... but ouch! I can't afford it as yet!
To return to the foot. It walked me up the lane about 100 yards and the muscles in the calves are not so anguished whilst compensating for walking on a heel. It was lovely to have a view of houses, plants, cars, a cat and know that it is much better to get out of the house!
Postscript Tuesday: the foot did not wish to go far in my house!
I've started a jigsaw and it reminds me of Harriet Edith Turner, my maternal grandmother, whose birthday would have been yesterday. We always did jigsaws, played cards or Monopoly and she showed me how to crochet and knit, to cook simple basic meals like bread and butter pudding, bread pudding, apples wrapped in her own pastry, slow roasts and casseroles. She was a very good bridge player, a gentle soul, always calm, worldly and lovely.
Monday 14 October 2013
L'Art et Lard - Le Petit-Pressigny 2013
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| I would love several of these in my garden. The walking story leaflet does not clearly name the sculptor. Possibly Jacques Cancre. |
My plan was that they would do the trail, report back to me what they thought was worthy and take me to the location in their car. Haha!
I saw a few exterior metal sculptures and the origami sculptures of Lisette des Flots who is always so warmly welcoming as was Rieja van Aart, a photographer and organiser of the event.
By the time I had unexpectedly supported my friend, I needed supporting as my foot started to burn. This was controlled to some extent by several paracetamols!
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| Winter Origami |
Saturday 12 October 2013
Outside my gate
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| Temporarily parked |
Friday 11 October 2013
Chapter Two of A Cornish Adventure
We took a train to Penzance and warmed ourselves with an amazing hot chocolate. I do wish I'd chosen a Danish pastry!
Onwards! Our cycles skirted the Pz fishing depots as we headed towards Mousehole. (The only family holiday I ever remember brought us here and it doesn't appear to have changed!) A three-roomed shop with apartment for sale was 550k. I asked the price! A little shop like that would do me to a tee!
We stopped at Newlyn Art Gallery with colourful, contemporary art that made us talk about what we saw! I loved that! Overjoyed, I delighted in "fuschias flowering in the hedges, falling to the floor", as worthy as any art.
Driving east, we stopped at Dartington but it was raining. I didn't have my camera under the umbrella. We came to Totnes, Devon whereupon a bus and a river ferry transported us to Dartmouth.
Here we debarked, only to hear my name being called! Who?!! Someone from the commune I used to live in!! I used to work with her as a volunteer with children's activities and adult TEFL! Four years ago I nearly bought part of her property! Small world! She was so friendly, absolutely charming as French Parisians are, and as surprised as I was! Spooked! I needed a strong coffee and glass of wine or brandy but not hot the chocolate substitute which was pathetic!
I loved the colours and styles of houses, the interesting boutique/antique shops, the defence constructions and the chateau at the mouth of the River Dart, the working boats, the general ambiance including tropical plants, the stately demeanour of the buildings steeped in a richly important heritage of nautical history, sailing, warfare, where 'The Mayflower' once moored when The Pilgrim Fathers sailed from Southampton to America. There was never enough time to explore further as our bus for the return journey was waiting. Steam train and return river ferry timetables did not coincide with our needs. Fish and chips were delicious, eaten whilst seagulls glared at us !
Totnes was quirky! Now we travelled north-east to Burnham-on-Sea, Somerset, to settle in the sunshine and walk along the sands before the overnight stopover for a very early flight to France.
Three counties in ten days.
It was an invitation, an opportunity, an educational experience for inspiration.
It was fun and an adventure.
It was enjoyment and laughter.
It was for that moment in time with a valued friend.
It strengthened the knowledge that I can't yet afford to live near the coast unless someone lets me have a small artist's studio and then I think I would! But then I really would have to learn to paint!
Au revoir Cornwall!
Here we debarked, only to hear my name being called! Who?!! Someone from the commune I used to live in!! I used to work with her as a volunteer with children's activities and adult TEFL! Four years ago I nearly bought part of her property! Small world! She was so friendly, absolutely charming as French Parisians are, and as surprised as I was! Spooked! I needed a strong coffee and glass of wine or brandy but not hot the chocolate substitute which was pathetic!
I loved the colours and styles of houses, the interesting boutique/antique shops, the defence constructions and the chateau at the mouth of the River Dart, the working boats, the general ambiance including tropical plants, the stately demeanour of the buildings steeped in a richly important heritage of nautical history, sailing, warfare, where 'The Mayflower' once moored when The Pilgrim Fathers sailed from Southampton to America. There was never enough time to explore further as our bus for the return journey was waiting. Steam train and return river ferry timetables did not coincide with our needs. Fish and chips were delicious, eaten whilst seagulls glared at us !
It was an invitation, an opportunity, an educational experience for inspiration.
It was fun and an adventure.
It was enjoyment and laughter.
It was for that moment in time with a valued friend.
It strengthened the knowledge that I can't yet afford to live near the coast unless someone lets me have a small artist's studio and then I think I would! But then I really would have to learn to paint!
Au revoir Cornwall!
Thursday 10 October 2013
Poem: A Cornish Adventure
A Cornish Adventure
“Let’s Go” he shouts
as we leave Heyl, start of the estuary,
up to River Allen, which shines in shimmering mystery,
towards the crooked
river, called in Cornish, Kammel,
rising source in
Bodmin Moor, now the River Camel,
draining itself and
its tributaries into the Celtic Sea
we follow too the geography, with our bicycles, him and
me.
At Padstow famous
for people, fish and food,
fishing boats sit, bottoms
in thick mud,
in the early morning
dawning sun
we leave that charming,
bustling town.
Leave the ebb and
flow of harbour life,
Leave the muddle of
market strife,
Leave the rugged
coastline coves,
Leave the pure clean
sandy beaches,
Leave the seaweed
kelp and bays,
Leave the commerce
for natural days,
Leave the muddy harbour
and fishing port,
Take a gentle
challenge of the two-wheeled sport.
Off we go cycling
along the trail, once a working railway track,
reach the grand old
Bodmin Jail, pedalling there and back.
Alongside the
estuary
partake of cups of coffee
partake of cups of coffee
Chocolate cones for creamy ice cream
Blackberry ice to
make us scream
Scones and jam with
Cornish cream - a treat for thee and me.
Sea fret on a sparkling
sea.
Tide is risen high
with glee.
Seals moan mournfully
in the bay.
Sun shines on the
sea all day.
Returning to our
starting point
we watch in twilight
setting sun
fishermen board
their colourful boats
in yellow dungarees
and coats
head out of harbour
on a rising tide
slip the ropes
fearlessly with pride
to harvest mackerel
from their schools
providing people
with salient Omega oils.
Earlier a river bed
with driven deep rivulets
was a muddy chocolate
brown.
Later a river
flooded
with sea whilst white sailed
yachts
come to restaurants
in town.
The estuary ebbs and
flows,
in and out,
without a doubt
in and out,
without a doubt
reflecting twinkling
fishing boats.
Yet cyclists are never
at sea
For they're eating mackerels
grilled for supper or their tea.
Wednesday 9 October 2013
Chapter One of A Cornish Adventure
Cornwall beckoned and it was surprisingly warm. I LOVED IT!!!
Once the canopy of cloud was higher than the plane I was amazed to see how emerald green were verdant fields of The West Country and in a different geographical formation than The Fair Fields of France. Travelling to Taunton took no time where we met my cousin. Like me she has the zany gene. We laughed hysterically as she drove to three watering holes determined to have a coffee treat away from home but no pubs were open before noon. Success at midday! Didn't they know people were queuing to get in! Back to base for a ginger, lemon and echinacea concoction for an invalid before having lunch and an evening meal at a pub quiz night. Sadly, we didn't have quiz knowledge!
Westwards! We walked a 6 and a half mile section of the South West Coastal Way! ... What a zinch is what I thought before we started ... until I had to eat my thoughts! Oh My! I'm sure I've never done that kind of walk before,, and am eager to do so again! In the past I've ascended an Auvergne mountain in summer, and an Arran mountain too, walked in Wales and Derbyshire. (*Footnote) I didn't know what to expect and YET, I can understand that planning is essential in case of inclement weather moving in from the West. Fortunately, sea fret was kindly!
Up and down heathery crags, in and out of beautiful bays, through mud, around briar and bramble to clamber rocks and stone steps, cross a wonderful stone bridge, look out to rocky island shelves in bays to hear seals moaning offshore ... THEN, just under 4 hours from Zennor, we arrived at St Ives for a nice cuppa tea!
St Ives is of course an artist's magnet and a magnet for me! I wanted to eat a Cornish Pasty BUT not to eat it on account of progress I'd made with losing weight! However, I can recommend pub food in THE UNION INN where fresh mackerel fillets were creamy to accompany Cornish ale. We had Ginger beer alfresco in the evening sun, where there was Phil from Essex, who lived in Cornwall. Two ladies, one American, another from London had much to say too. I always forget that al fresco these days means to sit within the range of smoker's exhalations!!!!!
I bought a painting! Small, but nevertheless it is now mine. I was bowled over by the exhibition of the artwork from Penny Rumble and Elaine Turnbull and greedily wanted almost every one!!!!! I wish I could paint! ... AND ... for the last three years have thought that I would love to have an art gallery in my house!!!!!!!!
You may or may not know that one source of my despair / laughter has been that I chose to buy a house on a road to Hell or Paradise if we believe the French inversion. I laughed when I read that the painting is entitled "Cliff Edge at Hell's Mouth" by Penny Rumble! Now to buy a Marine Blue frame. Through the cellophane which of course does not do it justice, here it is:
Penny and Elaine are passionate about their work and their enthusiasm was dramatic like their art. There were so many exhibitions to taste and see in Arts Festival Week. We were lucky to choose this one! The town heaved with visitors and unfortunately we couldn't get tickets to see "Show of Hands". I last heard them in Diss Corn Exchange probably 25 years ago! (or was it more?)
TATE and Barbara Hepworth's cottage were on the list of TO DO. I've always liked her work and that of Henry Moore. I used to study their sculptures with my class of 6 to 7 year olds who made wonderful naive representations of Mother and Child and holey forms! My former husband was very much influenced by their ideas and those of Buckminster Fuller (geodesic domes) when he presented his final show at Art College. I still have one of his bronzes and one of his plaster eggs which need to be given higher status in my house!!!!!!! For three years I've wanted to make my large Salle de Sejour into an art gallery.
We whiled away sunny moments marveling at fishing boats and sea. We mooched about on sands and pebbles in bays.
Before St Ives we cycled from Padstow along the estuary to Bodmin. It was 27 miles according to Google but I thought the sign said 37 miles. Anyway, I get kilometres and miles muddled! It was such a challenge and great fun to see oozing mud in the estuary. I love the smell of estuaries. I love how tides in and out, rise and fall, changing landscape. We stopped to have coffee en route from an inventive entrepeneur. Fantastic!
Cyclists discussed the merits of other folding bicycles. I'd been rather cynical because I once rode a Shopper with difficulty and hated such hard work... but this was a DREAM! I loved the sound of my borrowed one - a Dohan. Swishly, smoothly, I zinged along the Camel Trail. I was HAPPY!
At Wadebridge we stopped to see the Betjeman memorabilia exhibition, which in my opinion requires TLC and re-organisation. It is as if the poet has become unloved within the community centre for the elderly!
When we arrived at Bodmin we healthily ate apples, dried fruits and 70% chocolate ,but eventually we needed TEA, and so I got the much sought after Cream tea with Cornish creammmmmmmmmmm! Then delicious ice creams on the return journey. How naughty can one get? We didn't rate Rick Stein's fish and chips for the price! All packaging and hype! I've had the best fish and chips at Aldeburgh at half the price! I loved being there!
TO FOLLOW
Chapter Two of a Cornish Adventure
(*Footnote: I do remember how this same cousin, her daughter and I set off from Southwold to Dunwich across marshes in winter, when I was not better from Myalgic Encephamolitis but thought I was...we got to the pub in time for last orders in those days and a fish and chip lunch. Then they made me set off before them and still I struggled as they overtook me and yet waited all the time...it was dangerous to be walking in mist-hanging darkness near dykes.)
Once the canopy of cloud was higher than the plane I was amazed to see how emerald green were verdant fields of The West Country and in a different geographical formation than The Fair Fields of France. Travelling to Taunton took no time where we met my cousin. Like me she has the zany gene. We laughed hysterically as she drove to three watering holes determined to have a coffee treat away from home but no pubs were open before noon. Success at midday! Didn't they know people were queuing to get in! Back to base for a ginger, lemon and echinacea concoction for an invalid before having lunch and an evening meal at a pub quiz night. Sadly, we didn't have quiz knowledge!
Westwards! We walked a 6 and a half mile section of the South West Coastal Way! ... What a zinch is what I thought before we started ... until I had to eat my thoughts! Oh My! I'm sure I've never done that kind of walk before,, and am eager to do so again! In the past I've ascended an Auvergne mountain in summer, and an Arran mountain too, walked in Wales and Derbyshire. (*Footnote) I didn't know what to expect and YET, I can understand that planning is essential in case of inclement weather moving in from the West. Fortunately, sea fret was kindly!
Up and down heathery crags, in and out of beautiful bays, through mud, around briar and bramble to clamber rocks and stone steps, cross a wonderful stone bridge, look out to rocky island shelves in bays to hear seals moaning offshore ... THEN, just under 4 hours from Zennor, we arrived at St Ives for a nice cuppa tea!
I bought a painting! Small, but nevertheless it is now mine. I was bowled over by the exhibition of the artwork from Penny Rumble and Elaine Turnbull and greedily wanted almost every one!!!!! I wish I could paint! ... AND ... for the last three years have thought that I would love to have an art gallery in my house!!!!!!!!
You may or may not know that one source of my despair / laughter has been that I chose to buy a house on a road to Hell or Paradise if we believe the French inversion. I laughed when I read that the painting is entitled "Cliff Edge at Hell's Mouth" by Penny Rumble! Now to buy a Marine Blue frame. Through the cellophane which of course does not do it justice, here it is:
TATE and Barbara Hepworth's cottage were on the list of TO DO. I've always liked her work and that of Henry Moore. I used to study their sculptures with my class of 6 to 7 year olds who made wonderful naive representations of Mother and Child and holey forms! My former husband was very much influenced by their ideas and those of Buckminster Fuller (geodesic domes) when he presented his final show at Art College. I still have one of his bronzes and one of his plaster eggs which need to be given higher status in my house!!!!!!! For three years I've wanted to make my large Salle de Sejour into an art gallery.
We whiled away sunny moments marveling at fishing boats and sea. We mooched about on sands and pebbles in bays.
Before St Ives we cycled from Padstow along the estuary to Bodmin. It was 27 miles according to Google but I thought the sign said 37 miles. Anyway, I get kilometres and miles muddled! It was such a challenge and great fun to see oozing mud in the estuary. I love the smell of estuaries. I love how tides in and out, rise and fall, changing landscape. We stopped to have coffee en route from an inventive entrepeneur. Fantastic!
When we arrived at Bodmin we healthily ate apples, dried fruits and 70% chocolate ,but eventually we needed TEA, and so I got the much sought after Cream tea with Cornish creammmmmmmmmmm! Then delicious ice creams on the return journey. How naughty can one get? We didn't rate Rick Stein's fish and chips for the price! All packaging and hype! I've had the best fish and chips at Aldeburgh at half the price! I loved being there!
TO FOLLOW
Chapter Two of a Cornish Adventure
(*Footnote: I do remember how this same cousin, her daughter and I set off from Southwold to Dunwich across marshes in winter, when I was not better from Myalgic Encephamolitis but thought I was...we got to the pub in time for last orders in those days and a fish and chip lunch. Then they made me set off before them and still I struggled as they overtook me and yet waited all the time...it was dangerous to be walking in mist-hanging darkness near dykes.)
Tuesday 8 October 2013
One Life. Live it.
I saw it on a UK VW campervan:-
One Life! Live it!
My friend's brother has unexpectedly died aged 48.
Deep sadness for the family.
In Memoriam
Sunday 6 October 2013
Mrs Hobble
... appeared 5 years ago, disappeared and re-surfaces, not completely welcome but once her feet have healed she will not have to reappear. There were two bunions on two feet. One was in a sad state of distress because the big toe joint pierced the skin for several winters. It was a great relief after the op to wear Mary-Jane winter shoes again though wellies were truly out unless fleecy lined! (Mrs Hobble dislikes wellies though they appear to look so beautiful on others feet!)
The second took 5 years for the offending joint to be ill-fitting and uncomfortable in Cinderella ballerina shoes, rolling inwards instead of performing a heel to toe dance. In winter shoes, nerves felt cut by knife like slicing along the outer joints of both feet. An osteopath in UK and a kinaestherapiste in France treated the pain very well. Mrs Hobble dreads containing her feet in winter shoes! BUT ... Now it is done and almost over. Life can soon take another step forwards.
Everything boded well. The surgeon was smiley and kind. Then she was pushed through the bowels of the hospital to a standstill in the operating theatre. Nurses were washing and robing up, chatting and laughing with colleagues, in good but serious camaraderie. The anaesthetist sang "Bonnie and Clyde" and answered Mrs Hobble's questions about the machines which were to monitor her. She allayed her fears about being sent to Dream Land.
On Friday night Nurse BossyBoots (one of many!) woke her up to insist she took 4 painkillers in three hours time!!!! "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" Another said OK take them in an hour. "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" They departed and she fell asleep. The next morning at 6am, apart from an embarrassing moment when a signal did not meet her brain cells early enough, Nurse Bossy Boots chastised Mrs Hobble for not taking the tablets and removed them into her pocket! Other nurses were disinterested in providing painkillers that were desperately asked for as by now the foot was hot and hurt! Nor did they wish to change the 'pansement' but Mrs Hobble insisted they did.
The poor patient sharing her room started to vomit several times and still the nurses took ages to come, appearing to be disinterested in her condition. Dinner trays arrived. Certainly not what patient two wished to see! Soggy brussel sprouts with a slab of reconstituted turkey mash in pretend breadcrumbs! Taking the banana and packet of soft cheese Mrs Hobble was eager to escape potential infection once the ambulance/ taxi driver arrived with the wheelchair. Saturday! Saturday! OUT into fresh air and freedom! The sun was shining!
FOR THE BRAVE: photos taken 6 days after the op! Poor old feet for a poor old lady!
I am surprised the foot is not more swolllen.
UPDATE: 10 October: I understand it's normal but I'm feeling very emotional from time to time ... must be the concoctions of anasthesia, painkillers and daily injections to counteract Deep Vein Thrombosis! Perhaps as a result of the latter, the nurse had trouble finding a vein in my inner elbow a few days ago, and today she gave up, said she would try tomorrow!
Would love a glass of wine!
Wish the brain cells would clear enough so that I could get a grip on the mounting admin!
Wish the heavy legs feeling would disappear so that I could cook a decent meal even though I am eating healthily.
Wish I could be out and about in the Autumnal air, cycling, walking to see Autumn Crocus and cyclamen carpets.
Meanwhile must try Yoga when not wrapped up in my comforting crocheted granny blankets, with Hot Water Bottle, Reading books and thoughts!
IN THE PAST: Updated 11 October
Comaparing the left with the right foot and looking back at history it seems I have to wait about 3 to 4 weeks post op for it look better .....
http://villagedevaux.blogspot.fr/2009/04/history-of-bunion-in-photos.html
The second took 5 years for the offending joint to be ill-fitting and uncomfortable in Cinderella ballerina shoes, rolling inwards instead of performing a heel to toe dance. In winter shoes, nerves felt cut by knife like slicing along the outer joints of both feet. An osteopath in UK and a kinaestherapiste in France treated the pain very well. Mrs Hobble dreads containing her feet in winter shoes! BUT ... Now it is done and almost over. Life can soon take another step forwards.
Everything boded well. The surgeon was smiley and kind. Then she was pushed through the bowels of the hospital to a standstill in the operating theatre. Nurses were washing and robing up, chatting and laughing with colleagues, in good but serious camaraderie. The anaesthetist sang "Bonnie and Clyde" and answered Mrs Hobble's questions about the machines which were to monitor her. She allayed her fears about being sent to Dream Land.
On Friday night Nurse BossyBoots (one of many!) woke her up to insist she took 4 painkillers in three hours time!!!! "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" Another said OK take them in an hour. "Why can't I take them now? I shall be asleep!" They departed and she fell asleep. The next morning at 6am, apart from an embarrassing moment when a signal did not meet her brain cells early enough, Nurse Bossy Boots chastised Mrs Hobble for not taking the tablets and removed them into her pocket! Other nurses were disinterested in providing painkillers that were desperately asked for as by now the foot was hot and hurt! Nor did they wish to change the 'pansement' but Mrs Hobble insisted they did.
The poor patient sharing her room started to vomit several times and still the nurses took ages to come, appearing to be disinterested in her condition. Dinner trays arrived. Certainly not what patient two wished to see! Soggy brussel sprouts with a slab of reconstituted turkey mash in pretend breadcrumbs! Taking the banana and packet of soft cheese Mrs Hobble was eager to escape potential infection once the ambulance/ taxi driver arrived with the wheelchair. Saturday! Saturday! OUT into fresh air and freedom! The sun was shining!
FOR THE BRAVE: photos taken 6 days after the op! Poor old feet for a poor old lady!
I am surprised the foot is not more swolllen.
Would love a glass of wine!
Wish the brain cells would clear enough so that I could get a grip on the mounting admin!
Wish the heavy legs feeling would disappear so that I could cook a decent meal even though I am eating healthily.
Wish I could be out and about in the Autumnal air, cycling, walking to see Autumn Crocus and cyclamen carpets.
Meanwhile must try Yoga when not wrapped up in my comforting crocheted granny blankets, with Hot Water Bottle, Reading books and thoughts!
IN THE PAST: Updated 11 October
Comaparing the left with the right foot and looking back at history it seems I have to wait about 3 to 4 weeks post op for it look better .....
http://villagedevaux.blogspot.fr/2009/04/history-of-bunion-in-photos.html
Monday 30 September 2013
A Life without Water - not quite
Well... there is water but it is not in the well.
Water comes from the mains into the meter. The counter display is flooded so that the numbers are not turning, although I witnessed wheels going round when I turned the stop cock to show a friend the problem! The stop cock was turned off before I went to UK, which is when I noticed that the purger or pipe was leaking! It didn't seem to leak when I turned off the stopcock, so I left it all to fate whilst I flew on my journey to catch a flight for my holiday. On my return I established that the leak is definitely coming from the joint between the counter and the purger, both before / after the stopcock. That was Saturday and now on Monday I've discovered that my plumber has been on a training course all day.. hence he picked up my MANY messages just after 16h. By which time I'd phoned a different plumber who returned my call to tell me that as the water will have to be turned off in the street I must contact the Syndicat d'Eau. Now it is after 17h ... and yes someone would come this evening. NOPE... this is France.
So .... I will turn ON the water and waste a lot into the sand pit below the pipes in order to fill my water boiler to heat enough for a bath in the morning. Cooking with little water from the jugs and containers filled... and hand washing is a PAIN. I've done all this before when sub-zero temperatures prevented the flow from the tap... but I JUST DON"T NEED THIS. I've had to stay in all day today instead of collecting logs and doing other outdoor jobs...but the good news is that admin was achieved. The rain prevents mowing the lawns! I'm getting ready for the hospital trip!!!!!! and after that having a bath or a shower will be another challenge. Footy in a plastic bag! Ah..... life is such fun!!!!!!!
UPDATE: The French Syndicat d'Eau is absolutely THE BEST! The man arrived on the Tuesday morning and had it all tickety boo within minutes. The GOOD NEWS IS THAT I DON'T HAVE TO PAY because the leak was on the water board's side of the dubris!!!!!!
Wednesday: I asked him to come and explain how to turn on / off the tap as the system is different... there are now two purgeurs and they are on the other side of the counter! He was EXCELLENT, very patient. Against this experience I CAN RECOMMEND FRANCE AS A PLACE TO LIVE ... I SPOKE FRENCH ALL THE TIME, BADLY BIEN SUR mais avec resultats!
Water comes from the mains into the meter. The counter display is flooded so that the numbers are not turning, although I witnessed wheels going round when I turned the stop cock to show a friend the problem! The stop cock was turned off before I went to UK, which is when I noticed that the purger or pipe was leaking! It didn't seem to leak when I turned off the stopcock, so I left it all to fate whilst I flew on my journey to catch a flight for my holiday. On my return I established that the leak is definitely coming from the joint between the counter and the purger, both before / after the stopcock. That was Saturday and now on Monday I've discovered that my plumber has been on a training course all day.. hence he picked up my MANY messages just after 16h. By which time I'd phoned a different plumber who returned my call to tell me that as the water will have to be turned off in the street I must contact the Syndicat d'Eau. Now it is after 17h ... and yes someone would come this evening. NOPE... this is France.
So .... I will turn ON the water and waste a lot into the sand pit below the pipes in order to fill my water boiler to heat enough for a bath in the morning. Cooking with little water from the jugs and containers filled... and hand washing is a PAIN. I've done all this before when sub-zero temperatures prevented the flow from the tap... but I JUST DON"T NEED THIS. I've had to stay in all day today instead of collecting logs and doing other outdoor jobs...but the good news is that admin was achieved. The rain prevents mowing the lawns! I'm getting ready for the hospital trip!!!!!! and after that having a bath or a shower will be another challenge. Footy in a plastic bag! Ah..... life is such fun!!!!!!!
UPDATE: The French Syndicat d'Eau is absolutely THE BEST! The man arrived on the Tuesday morning and had it all tickety boo within minutes. The GOOD NEWS IS THAT I DON'T HAVE TO PAY because the leak was on the water board's side of the dubris!!!!!!
Wednesday: I asked him to come and explain how to turn on / off the tap as the system is different... there are now two purgeurs and they are on the other side of the counter! He was EXCELLENT, very patient. Against this experience I CAN RECOMMEND FRANCE AS A PLACE TO LIVE ... I SPOKE FRENCH ALL THE TIME, BADLY BIEN SUR mais avec resultats!
Sunday 8 September 2013
The chicken sheds
Last week I removed the dangerous pile of lengths of wood that filled this area, saved for kindling wood. The wood is too thick for the hand-axe chopping method. I acquired a good one in UK for £2. I own a small wood saw but my arms are too weak. So, a Scorpion electric saw has arrived and I just need a sunny day to start creating kindling wood to be bagged up if I can find enough plastic bags. In the deepest depths of winter I need kindling wood on a daily basis!
This week I managed to empty the very dry chicken shit (pardon me!!! manure) out of the hen shed. This job has waited three years. I bagged it up, as the wheelbarrow wheel was caput, then spread it onto the potager. Maybe there is too much!!!! I wonder what will grow next year?
After that I tackled the soil in the exterior chicken run. About 20cm below the soil surface there was rubble, not concrete. I sliced the compacted soil loose with the garden fork and spade, then proceeded to sieve some. It was hard work though good for the waist line! That idea was abandoned. Gradually, with the rake and bare hands, I developed a technique for picking out the chicken bones, mussel shells, oyster shells and rubble from the good soil. The oyster shells and stones were bagged to be used as rubble for the concrete. The bones, plum stones, mussel shells and roots filled a compost bag, destination dechetterie. I also weedled out broken glass, metal nails and blue poly garden string. Then I levelled what was left with the rake as that area will be laid with textile fabric and small stones.
The new concreted areas are to store GOOD surplus to requirements roof tiles once they are removed from one of my roofs as well as to store kindling wood or lengths of good useful for diy wood.
As a treat I decided to cook the men a nice meal. It's nice to have people to cook for but also I was keeping an eye on proceedings as I always do and helping where I could, getting the electricity cables, using my 50m hosepipe ... good job I have these things!!!!
I'd bought 30 euros of vegetables and fruit from Ile de Re market on Monday as it all looked so fersh and delicious. I made a Cauliflower Cheese in pastry. I was first introduced to that idea by a school cook. I thought it strange but it's an excellent idea. It's delicious cold the following day.
For dessert I made Mirabelle Shortcake.
Measure 150 g butter, 75 g sugar, and 225 g plain flour into a bowl Crumble together with fingers. Press the mixture into a 20cm diameter glass flan dish. Whisk an egg with a fork and pour over the shortcake. Bake in oven 190°C for about 5 minutes. Remove. Arrange pre-stoned mirabelle plums on the top leaving no gaps. Scatter with sugar, and a small smidgeon of dried lavender flowers. Bake for about 30 minutes. You can serve it warm or cold, with a dollop of crème fraîche, yoghurt or cream. As a variation use fresh stoned apricot fruits.
No photos of the food as it was so hectic. It was more important that the men ate as they had to dash to other work! Here are before / after photos:
Saturday 7 September 2013
The Times they are a changing
I haven't posted for a while as I've been reeling under realisations. I haven't run out of words, thoughts, feelings, but maybe I have been overwhelmed. I think I got worn out and a return of M.E. hit me at the weekend!
Although there is the feeling that I've wasted several years, being dragged down (not only by myself but also my previous soulmate friend) .... I AM beginning to look positively at that negativity and understand that it was a period of TIME, when many positive events happened as well.
I AM beginning to look at the patterns of behaviour based on his childhood and my childhood that brought us to love and then dislike each other and yet he still wanted to be my friend and I his. Why was that? Probably to meet own needs.
Maybe I DID have to be carried after I lost my job but I KNOW THAT I acted as a child, NEEDING parental love and support! So he became my father and mother figure. He was as he said my Physical Fitness Trainer. Then (I know I am on repeat!) marital problems magnified after the physical repair of a psychologically damaging op which occurred within a few years of JOB CRASH. We moved house and country within a few weeks of that op and then I was told, not in quite these words, but that he didn't want me!!!! In the last two weeks I've found my writings that establish the truth of that!
It's a pity we could not work through his jealousies about my son, his fears, my fears, our needs.
BUT it was also a period of time when I carried him. Before we moved to France I employed him full time to work on my house that he also had some investment in by contributing to the mortgage to pay his part for living in my house! When we came to France he became ill ... he said it was because of me but I also believe it was because of the anxiety of renovation work and probably the future without much income as well his physical ageing.
We carried each other.
Now he has found someone else to carry for a while. Maybe she has found someone to carry HER.
HOWEVER, I DEFINITELY KNOW that I don't want anyone to carry me, nor do I need anyone else to carry. BUT to support and be supported would be a different issue. Of course it will be lovely to have help from a friend in any capacity but NOT TO CONTROL or undermine my dignity, integrity and independence. I don't want to be in a co-dependent relationship ever again. I don't ever want to be made to feel afraid of someone's anger ever again.
I wish to keep my independence and that means learning to be grown up which I have been learning in the last three years. I now understand and accept that my friend was kind to make me go, kind to say we are not a couple anymore...even though at the time I was shocked, stunned, numbed, in total disbelief that he could make that choice and not try harder to save our souls!!!!!
I also realise that maybe I never indiated sufficiently how much I appreciated all that he did for me!
Of course I would like to be with a significant someone...but firstly if I can, (now that I am learning more about looking after my own needs), I would like to meet lots of people, male and female, and begin to appreciate Life and Living.... It is time not for selfishness, nor self-centredness but certainly it is Time for looking after my inner selves... and I do mean plural. I am more than one part.
Well... I lasted at least 7 years after it all started to slide downhill with my friend, having my heart tugged and shunned and nothing will take away the fact that I think I still love him and always will. So that is that! I know I can love again and hope that one day someone will be attracted enough to love in return.
I shifted sands this week as Cancerians do... going to see the sea has been very restorative. I must go more often. It's a drag, the 3 to 4 hour journey in my little Clio, but never in a hurry, I look about me as I go and learn about landscape and locations. Of course the warm breeze, soft sweet salty sea, soft sand and golden warm sunshine in a clear blue sky, as I cycle hither and thither slowly, leisurely, or gaining momentum, marvel at little things that I see on my travels has left my skin soft like a baby!
Inside me, I am in love...in love with an island.... the golden isle of Île de Rhé (with / without the h). It was surprisingly unchallenging camping alone. Tired after the afternoon drive I probably went to bed about 8 ish after erecting my small tent, eating oatcakes and cheese and refamiliarising myself with the beach. With no plan other than to cycle, I relaxed. It's fun alone because one doesn't have to keep up with anyone nor have anyone dragging one behind!!!! I can do what I like, when I like. Benefits.
I spent three full days revisiting places that I saw in June with a very good friend, taking different routes, visiting markets, talking to people, keeping my silence, laughing and crying as I cycled alone, stopping to eat the not ripe wild grapes and blackberries and a lunchtime treat of moules marinières and on Sunday large prawns at the oyster bar because I'd prefer to share oysters with someone!
Although there is the feeling that I've wasted several years, being dragged down (not only by myself but also my previous soulmate friend) .... I AM beginning to look positively at that negativity and understand that it was a period of TIME, when many positive events happened as well.
I AM beginning to look at the patterns of behaviour based on his childhood and my childhood that brought us to love and then dislike each other and yet he still wanted to be my friend and I his. Why was that? Probably to meet own needs.
Maybe I DID have to be carried after I lost my job but I KNOW THAT I acted as a child, NEEDING parental love and support! So he became my father and mother figure. He was as he said my Physical Fitness Trainer. Then (I know I am on repeat!) marital problems magnified after the physical repair of a psychologically damaging op which occurred within a few years of JOB CRASH. We moved house and country within a few weeks of that op and then I was told, not in quite these words, but that he didn't want me!!!! In the last two weeks I've found my writings that establish the truth of that!
It's a pity we could not work through his jealousies about my son, his fears, my fears, our needs.
BUT it was also a period of time when I carried him. Before we moved to France I employed him full time to work on my house that he also had some investment in by contributing to the mortgage to pay his part for living in my house! When we came to France he became ill ... he said it was because of me but I also believe it was because of the anxiety of renovation work and probably the future without much income as well his physical ageing.
We carried each other.
Now he has found someone else to carry for a while. Maybe she has found someone to carry HER.
HOWEVER, I DEFINITELY KNOW that I don't want anyone to carry me, nor do I need anyone else to carry. BUT to support and be supported would be a different issue. Of course it will be lovely to have help from a friend in any capacity but NOT TO CONTROL or undermine my dignity, integrity and independence. I don't want to be in a co-dependent relationship ever again. I don't ever want to be made to feel afraid of someone's anger ever again.
I wish to keep my independence and that means learning to be grown up which I have been learning in the last three years. I now understand and accept that my friend was kind to make me go, kind to say we are not a couple anymore...even though at the time I was shocked, stunned, numbed, in total disbelief that he could make that choice and not try harder to save our souls!!!!!
I also realise that maybe I never indiated sufficiently how much I appreciated all that he did for me!
Of course I would like to be with a significant someone...but firstly if I can, (now that I am learning more about looking after my own needs), I would like to meet lots of people, male and female, and begin to appreciate Life and Living.... It is time not for selfishness, nor self-centredness but certainly it is Time for looking after my inner selves... and I do mean plural. I am more than one part.
Well... I lasted at least 7 years after it all started to slide downhill with my friend, having my heart tugged and shunned and nothing will take away the fact that I think I still love him and always will. So that is that! I know I can love again and hope that one day someone will be attracted enough to love in return.
Inside me, I am in love...in love with an island.... the golden isle of Île de Rhé (with / without the h). It was surprisingly unchallenging camping alone. Tired after the afternoon drive I probably went to bed about 8 ish after erecting my small tent, eating oatcakes and cheese and refamiliarising myself with the beach. With no plan other than to cycle, I relaxed. It's fun alone because one doesn't have to keep up with anyone nor have anyone dragging one behind!!!! I can do what I like, when I like. Benefits.
Monday 26 August 2013
Parisians and Pink Champagne
How lovely to entertain for aperos, have everything prepared and then to be given a bottle of pink champagne which I insisted we open.
I know nothing of Champagne except I really liked this one ( photo later )
Now aperos in France means different things to different people at different times of the day and one can never be sure of what it all means. Sometimes one is invited for pre-dinner drinkypoos and another time one is invited to a full scale meal, as that which happened in Bretagne some years ago with my cousin. We arrived at the French friend's house and discovered we were under-dressed...it was a Sunday, and instead of 'une heure' we were there for 7 hours indulging in one of the most amazing and memorable meals I have ever been delighted to indulge in. Fortunately, she and I were not driving!
And so...
In this case two boys, aged 7 and almost 4, who do not go to sleep until 10pm, were to arrive at 7.30pm, because not knowing what to do I gave the family the option on time of arrival. They were only 10 mins late and that is correct in French society! I hedged my bets and provided a range of nuts, goats cheese, fresh apricots, olives, the best tomatoes, rocket and lettuce from my garden, a stilton and walnut tart with my own made pastry, plus chocolate cakes in cases for the boys. The youngest person told his parents he loved aperos and was clearly hungry. He tucked into the pistachios and then the quiche before anyone else and exclaimed how good it was... then he was told to tell me ... as I was the cook!
We were all appreciative of the food and drink. I then opened a bottle of Chinon and later offered tea which was very welcomed. He asked for spicy tea and voila I have Chai. Brilliant!
It was a cooler evening but M wished to stay outdoors as long as possible. However, once the dusk and bats had settled for night, we moved indoors, where the boys were drawing and listening to JS Bach 'cello suites. Such a lovely family. It has taken me two years to return the favour, when New Friend and I were invited to the neighbours' garden for aperos one August. This was because I always asked them to come just before they had to return to Paris.
This time it has taken a few weeks to get the date, but at last it was my pleasure to give and it was such a successful and easy evening. I was glad to have made the effort.
I know nothing of Champagne except I really liked this one ( photo later )
Now aperos in France means different things to different people at different times of the day and one can never be sure of what it all means. Sometimes one is invited for pre-dinner drinkypoos and another time one is invited to a full scale meal, as that which happened in Bretagne some years ago with my cousin. We arrived at the French friend's house and discovered we were under-dressed...it was a Sunday, and instead of 'une heure' we were there for 7 hours indulging in one of the most amazing and memorable meals I have ever been delighted to indulge in. Fortunately, she and I were not driving!
And so...
In this case two boys, aged 7 and almost 4, who do not go to sleep until 10pm, were to arrive at 7.30pm, because not knowing what to do I gave the family the option on time of arrival. They were only 10 mins late and that is correct in French society! I hedged my bets and provided a range of nuts, goats cheese, fresh apricots, olives, the best tomatoes, rocket and lettuce from my garden, a stilton and walnut tart with my own made pastry, plus chocolate cakes in cases for the boys. The youngest person told his parents he loved aperos and was clearly hungry. He tucked into the pistachios and then the quiche before anyone else and exclaimed how good it was... then he was told to tell me ... as I was the cook!
We were all appreciative of the food and drink. I then opened a bottle of Chinon and later offered tea which was very welcomed. He asked for spicy tea and voila I have Chai. Brilliant!
It was a cooler evening but M wished to stay outdoors as long as possible. However, once the dusk and bats had settled for night, we moved indoors, where the boys were drawing and listening to JS Bach 'cello suites. Such a lovely family. It has taken me two years to return the favour, when New Friend and I were invited to the neighbours' garden for aperos one August. This was because I always asked them to come just before they had to return to Paris.
This time it has taken a few weeks to get the date, but at last it was my pleasure to give and it was such a successful and easy evening. I was glad to have made the effort.
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!
Monday 5 August 2013
Angles sur L'Anglin Pyromelodique 2013
It IS tricky to capture night scenes and fireworks. I was up high and it was interesting to see how the air pressure kept the vapour from the explosives near the ground. The whole valley was filled with smoke so whether or not those near the river saw much will be interesting! The disadvantage was not being able to fully hear the music and spoken account. I paid my fee but was annoyed that some visitors did not. I suppose 6.50euros for one person is not a great entertainment fee but for a family it must get expensive when then there is the need to eat, drink and participate in the fairground activities. I used to take a picnic before I lived here. Last year's event was cancelled and the year before I watched whilst sat on the rocks high up at La Huche Corne which was a good position. In 2010 I sat on the Low Town side of the river which was not bad... that was the year the pompiers had to extinguish a fire on the cliff face to many cheers once it was realised it was not part of the drama! In 2008 or 9, I sat on the High Town side of the river by the first tree and all the years before that going back to 2004 I believe! Hey ho the years pass! 
Sunday 4 August 2013
In Memoriam and Celebration
In Memory of my beautiful Aunt Ivy, sister of my father, whose birthday was today and who died many years ago with Alzheimers. Her last words when she had not spoken for a long while were evidently to me as she patted me on the arm and said "Come along" and we walked across the room where another patient had tipped out all the earth from the flowerpots! I have always felt privileged to have known her.
Her eldest daughter who was married on the 3rd August has celebrated 50 years of marriage with her husband. It was a grand family affair in their garden, very relaxed and gentle. They celebrated the ceremony in July when their son, Mark and his family who live in USA could be in England and their daughter, Carol and her family from Kent could be there at the weekend.
I consider it to be a grand achievement of commitment, dedication, patience, tolerance, determination, endurance, faith, hope, charity and grace and much more. x
I consider it to be a grand achievement of commitment, dedication, patience, tolerance, determination, endurance, faith, hope, charity and grace and much more. x
Friday 2 August 2013
Spicy Moroccanish Lamb Burgers without bread on a bed of lentils and green salad.
A shoulder of lamb cost 11.70 euros as it was 7.50 euros per kilo. I cut 800g meat from the joint. I could have cut more but roasted the rest of the meat on the bone, then made stock from the bones after removing the cooked meat. Once the bones had been boiled, all remaining pieces of meat were removed and put into the stock.
This quantity could serve 4 to 8 people depending on appetites or greed!
Mince or grind in a blender 800g raw lamb, a little at a time. I added:
I pan fried the burgers for a few minutes each side. To me it didn't matter if they broke apart but mainly they did stay in one piece. They were served in the centre of a bed of a rocket/mache/oakleaf lettuce/ fresh coriander leaves salad. I let guests add their own dollop of natural yoghurt but I didn't have any sambal oelek (chilli base) to blend with it.
In addition I made a lentil salad - sauté gently finely sliced onions, garlic and ginger with brown sugar, add drained can of lentils, cumin and coriander, nutmeg or any other such spices, add tomato puree, lemon juice and chilli infused olive oil.
This lentil dish is one of my favourites as a bed for salmon. My guests had a bread free four course menu:
Mince or grind in a blender 800g raw lamb, a little at a time. I added:
- finely sliced red onions, garlic and fresh ginger pre-sautéed in olive oil
- a small handful of porridge oats
- salt and black pepper, cumin, coriander, nutmeg, mace, cinnamon, paprika doux and piment doux ground powders, plus dried coriander leaves, lots of dried mint leaves, lemon juice, dash of soy sauce, dash of olive oil infused with chilli
- (note you can add garam masala but I didn't have any)
I pan fried the burgers for a few minutes each side. To me it didn't matter if they broke apart but mainly they did stay in one piece. They were served in the centre of a bed of a rocket/mache/oakleaf lettuce/ fresh coriander leaves salad. I let guests add their own dollop of natural yoghurt but I didn't have any sambal oelek (chilli base) to blend with it.
In addition I made a lentil salad - sauté gently finely sliced onions, garlic and ginger with brown sugar, add drained can of lentils, cumin and coriander, nutmeg or any other such spices, add tomato puree, lemon juice and chilli infused olive oil.
This lentil dish is one of my favourites as a bed for salmon. My guests had a bread free four course menu:
- Starter of paprika anchovies on a bed of potato salad with grated parmesan and strewn rocket.
- Goats cheese was served with oatcakes.
- Dessert was apricot compôte with lavender flowers, poured over commercial meringues as I am not clever enough to make them.
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