Catching up!

 Oh dear, nearly six months since I last posted a blog. It is not that I have been bothered to write to you. Oh no. It is because words have been absent in my head, and that includes verbal words as much as written ones. It has been a heavy time for me since I was sliced open to have my heart 'repaired'. Long months of not feeling myself. Having to get used to hobbling around at a much slower pace , which has left me feeling ancient in years and useless. 

But it has been the best of times as well. The benefit of those long months of physical and mental inactivity has enabled me to rethink and revaluate  parts of my life which had caused me a a hoohah of pain and tears in abundance at the time they happened, but had become become buried in my memory, filed away  because there was no time to think them through as my life hurtled its way onwards.

So it has been a slow time for me, but one of much soul searching and much growth of self. All the emotional detritus which I had accumulated in the past has been mostly let go off, and a more refined version of me seems to have been born. I am still the same of course, but I am slightly different in self. As I have said, it has been the best of times interspersed with intense bouts of soul searching. 

I can now walk as far as the bus stop, which is on an uphill gradient so good for my thighs. It is not far, but there is no bus shelter to wait in, so if the bus is delayed it does mean having to lean on the bus stop post to support myself. I am not good at standing for a length of time, but if I take my walking pole with me then I can use that to lean on. However the walking pole is a fearsome nuisance for getting on and off the bus. Not to worry, I need it for the moment, but when out for a walk I now carry it rather than leaning on it for support all the time.

I am also helped by my shrinking bosom, the weight of which tended to make me stoop with the heaviness of them. The loss of weight has also benefitted the amount of body luggage that my physical frame has to cope with, and I have my partner to thank for this because he has put us on a low carb / sugar free regime. No more biscuits and evening nibbles..... just one meal a day (two for me) made up of protein, salad, and vegetables, with no food after 6 pm which gives the body time to digest and absorb what we have eaten. I am sleeping better, do not get up for the loo during the night, and wake up between 4 - 5 am after 7-8 hours of sleep. 

Now why did my partner decide to organise our diet? Because he was given a motor cycle jacket which he could not get into. So why does he need to have  that specific type of jacket? Because he took himself off to a motorbike test centre recently to have the necessary training for riding a bike, that's what he did....and he passed the course. He has also dropped enough weight to get into that jacket, and all he needs to do is buy a motorbike, which he spends endless pleasurable man-moments researching. I have got over my fear of him falling off and breaking his body up. He needs to live life. 

   He did mention that he thought that I could also take the motorbike course as well. I did ride a Honda 90 back in the day, but I said that the bus is alright for me at the moment.

   And the car? Not do-able for me now. I am 76 soon, and my age and the recent heart operation will combine for me not to be accepted for a renewal of my car license.  Not to worry. I have got over my feeling of having lost my freedom to go where I want to, but instead have learnt to bless the fact that I can still have use of my feet so can walk. 'Count your blessings', that is what I have learnt through my recent slow time. But I do not discount the fact that I could get an electric scooter when I get stronger! 

I have learnt that there are always options to be had if you just open your eyes to them, and not dwell so much on the obstacles which are seeming to block you. There are other ways, and if you can't find them immediately you can always send a prayer up to The Universe for help. 

Thanks for stopping by, 

Bye for now,  

Vx  

August Update!

Nearly five months since I last posted a blog, and thank you to fellow bloggers who have asked if I am still alright..... and I am, despite my thoughts earlier on in the year that I was going to end up in a wheelchair. I have made a good recovery from the operation, although my legs have an occasional tendency to get wobbly, and I still carry a walking pole when I am out and about, unless my OH is with me and holding my hand in his firm grasp. But of late I am now walking on my own, and have a better stride than I have had in the past. It is no longer a 'shuffle' of a walk, but I can't say that I am at 'full stride' yet! 

To keep my brain active and stop it from atrophying, it came to me to resuscitate a non-fiction book which had lain dormant in my computer files since 2008. It was complete at the time I wrote it, but I was getting a niggle that it needed updating, and that is what I have been doing for the last few months. It is done now and I have just finished designing the cover. It is a 280 page paperback, is autobiographical, and describes how I became a parapsychologist, which is someone who is in sync with all that is outside of the 'normal' human perception of life, and also how I learnt life lessons in abundance enabling me to finally meet my 'soul' partner, which is my OH. I have still the synopsis to do, and then on to the ebook edition, which only needs re-formatting. 

And thank goodness for the operation and the 'getting better' time because it has freed me up for getting the writing project under way. To be a writer you can't have a mind which is cluttered up with other projects, and this is something I am now learning, so I have come to bless this time and not fight against it. I have not got the life I had before the op, but I am now making the transition to a different way of life, which is not to be scowled upon by making comparisons with the old way, which I was tending to do in my lowest moments.    

Off for a walk round our park, so bye for now, 

In love and light,

Vx

Would we do it again?

This is a photo of our farm in France, curtesy of the farm's new owners who bought it in January 2020. Many were the hours we spent working on the land, all thirteen acres of it,  and we were able to become self sufficient for a while. It was a challenge, which even to this day surprises us with the effort it took, but it does make for some excellent memories. But.......would we want to do the same process all over again.....? And the answer is 'no'! 

And here is our 'acreage' here, in Oswestry, England. 

As you can see.....there is hardly any comparison between those thirteen acres in France....

However, there is still a need within me to grow things, but instead of planting long rows of crops enough to store for the winter, it will be a rows of minimal length enough for a  week or two during the summer, grown in pots and small raised beds.  No more self sufficiency for us, but it is a happy memory of a time when we were. It is good to look back on things you have done, and which gave you pleasure, but sometimes you have to exchange the time spent on that task for something else which needs your  greater attention. For me, this is my psychic and spiritual pathway, and the teaching of others who want to follow on the same pathway in life. I am aware that I have a lot to give, and that it will be a demanding pathway, but only if I let it be. 

  Meanwhile, my health is getting better. The operation knocked the wind out of my sails, but I managed one and half miles yesterday on wet and muddy ground, which had my legs complaining that they did not like the effort it took to pluck my feet from out of the underfoot soggyness. 

Onwards we go,

In love and light,

Vx

And the good news is............

.... a letter arrived a few days ago..... "I had the opportunity to review your recent CT scan......I am pleased to say that everything remains stable, and I have requested a further scan in one year's time. " It was sent from the surgeon who had operated on my heart in April.  It was a very 'good news' day, and contributed to a good end to 2021, after what has been a year full of life lessons needing to be learnt. I have had a urge to buy a SmartPanda diary, though. It is a working diary. Methinks that 2022 will hold another set of  'things to do', but that is my life and it is as it is, and since I asked to come into this life to learn a certain set of life lessons, then I shall carry on living, and enjoying, each day.

Gracechurch, the group who I mentioned in the last blog ( which was at least six weeks ago, and I am sorry for that, but writing had evaded me for a while ), has proved a success, with friends being gathered and providing a good end to the year by giving a performance at Ellesmere Market Hall. 

And me..... not in costume, although I had been given a round hat to wear so my head would look authentic but my hair and the rest of me would not. 

But it was fearsomely cold in the hall, so I was glad not to be wearing a silk dress, and instead was clad in sensible thermals, and a woollen jumper and shawl. It was a fun morning, and the new keyboard played well on its harpsichord setting. When next we are out in public I shall be in a silk dress, and the keyboard is going to be dressed  up as well to represent a clavichord. 

It was such a treat not to be doing something sensible.......

Meanwhile, we have joined 'A Stand in the Park', which meets every Sunday morning. 

( www.astandinthepark.org ) It is not a protest as such, just a coming together of like minded people who are concerned about the future....lockdowns, harmful new laws, the ‘pandemic’ the people behind ‘The Great Reset’, etc. etc

 There are over one thousand parks in twenty countries.

 We meet in the bandstand of the park in Oswestry, 10-12 am. 

We chat, share news, share friendships, and groups in other areas of the world will be doing the same. 

No need to join or have a membership, just turn up. 

So....... hoping that 2022 is a good year for you, and that you will keep sailing along no matter where the winds of change take you,

In love and light

Vera x

  

Being pushed along.....

2018. Playing the accordion with my husband at an open air concert in France.

The accordion is a heavy instrument to play and requires quite a hefty work out across my chest to get it singing. It has been silent for many months. " Never again would I be able to play it ", that was my thinking. Heart operations, lack of strength in my chest and everywhere else, these were my reasons for not lifting it out of its carrying case and strapping it to myself. I contented myself with playing the piano. My chest didn't mind that. 

Being pushed along by the Universe.......: So my husband had a phone call: "Would you like to come along to our rehearsal next week. Our violinist is leaving us, so we wondered if you would like to fill his slot. We are the Gracechurch Historical Dancers, and put on exhibitions of  English folk music." 

It was settled...... He would be playing the violin and mandolin, and I would go along to support him. After all, I was still supposed to be in post recovery time and therefore 'delicate'.

Rehearsal over. My husband had acquitted himself well, as I knew he would. But this was only  a rehearsal for the musicians of Gracechurch, and the next rehearsal would be in the local village hall with the dancers. I was quite content to go along and watch. I was, after all, still 'delicate'.  "Not so" said The Universe.......

......... another rehearsal over.... the dancers did their folk dancing while the musicians played for them, and I watched and listened, thinking that at the next rehearsal I would bring my knitting to keep me occupied. 

I heard my husband talking about the music we had played in France. 

"So you play music as well?" said leader of the group to me.

"I did, but I had a operation recently .......", thinking that this was a good enough reason not to be involved.  

"She plays the accordion......" my husband butted in.

In annoyance, because of my 'delicate' condition, I said " I don't anymore, and anyway the sound of the accordion would drown out all the other musicians", thinking that was the end of the conversation.

But no, I was not to be let go of so easily, because everyone has agreed that I shall play my electronic keyboard (piano) during future rehearsals. It was also agreed that I could learn the melodeon, which is to be loaned to me for the moment. A melodeon is a smaller and lighter accordion type of instrument, and therefore 'should be easier for my chest to handle', everyone said.    

On the way home....I was very quiet, feeling as if I had been organised into doing too much too soon. 

But if you me, what would you do as soon as the next day arrived? You would feel the excitement of a new challenge.......that is what you would do. 

So.......I got the accordion out its carrying case, and lifted it up on to my chest meanwhile expecting horrendous things to happen in the chest itself, and started playing. I was out of practice, the fingers of  my left hand had lost their positional map of the bass keys, while my right hand moaned about the awkward position it was held in. But no moaning came from my chest, or anything held within my chest. 

Playing the accordion again is a huge milestone for me,  and although it will take me a lot more practice before I can render a musical sound sufficient to satisfy my musicianship, this was a huge sign that I am getting better, and that my body is healing. 

The accordion is still too strong and loud to be played with the Gracechurch players, but I have the piano keyboard, and maybe the melodeon if I can learn to play it. I am nervous about playing in public again, but I shall do it for me. 

The Gracechurch players have an associated band called the Devil's Chair. We think they play Celtic / Medieval music. We have been invited to join them as well. As I say......being pushed along by the Universe!

Bye for now, 

from a newly non-delicate Vx

Where's the Bus Stop?

This is the path which leads to the town, and starts directly behind the house. I hope to be walking along the length of that path soon, my aim being to have a recce of the town but without my husband in tow, because he would get irritated with the non-manly trawl through what the shops have on offer. There is a womanly need in me to see where things can be bought, as I would like to stop buying off the internet and support local shops if possible. We have already managed to locally source four kitchen appliances and a broom. 

I do not have a map of this area in my head at the moment, so it would be easy to get lost. At the moment my husband does the driving, but I am an independent woman and need to go solo. However, since the operation I am prone to dizzy spells so am not safe to drive, although on foot I am OK because I can park myself up by leaning on my walking pole until the dizziness goes away. I am working on finding a solution to the dizziness and it is reducing. I just need to get my confidence back.  

According to my neighbour, a bus into town passes directly in front of the house. All she does, apparently, is to stand on the kerb and flag it down, but this does not appeal to me because I would feel an idiot waving my arms at a bus whose driver may, or may not, stop to pick me up. For me, the most logical thing is to find the bus stop nearest to the house, so that when I walk into town I can catch a bus back. So, walking along the path to the town has become a 'To Do' project. I shall drive again, but not yet. 

Boots on, walking pole in hand, and off I went for a hunt for the bus stops, but first to do a practice walk along the path. which just so  happens to have the  coffee shop I was telling you about in a previous blog......

 So if you were me, what would you do if a deluge of rain was suddenly unleashed upon you, just as you were passing in the vicinity of the coffee shop? 

 You would stop and take shelter, that is what you would do......

And do you think that it would be impolite to take shelter without buying a coffee and a bun?

I thought so, hence.....

A very dishevelled, wind swept, and rain soaked me!

..... and so happy to have a bun and a hot drink.....

All done!

And returning home, still no bus stops found, but I had a joyful time in the rain after being fortified by coffee and a bun! 

Bye for now, 

Vx

1.5 miles!

And so it became for The Walk. For several days my OH had been making it his planned project for the weekend, that he would take me out for a walk around Colemere, shepherding me should I feel doddery, assisting me should I feel my energies failing. His expectation of me was similar to mine...... that it would take an effort to walk round the lake, because that is what Colemere is ...... " a deep expanse of water shaped like a giant's tummy button, with steep sides and filled with icy water in its lower depths". (www.shropshire-guide.co.uk). Of course I was not going to be going in for a swim, though, because I do not own a swimming costume, and there are huge fish in the lake anyway, which my imagination would turn into the biggest of sharks tout suite as soon as I was ankle deep in the water. Much better to stay on dry land. Much more sensible. 

Here is the lake and surrounding woodland. 

Here is NOT me, but someone else 

- a photo poached off the internet because I forgot to take a similar one of the lake myself!

But here IS a portion of me walking along the path beside the lake, just to prove that I did have my walking boots on and was stoically marching along albeit at a sedate pace.

..... and my OH moving ahead of me because he was a tad fed up with me trying to photograph my feet  in walking mode.....

...... and the wonderful sparkling of sunshine through the trees.....

....a pause for a snack, and Maz hoping for a morsel to come her way.....   

It was a grand day out, 

and I managed to walk, at a goodly pace, for one and a half miles!

It was a personal achievement for both my OH and me. 

I never thought I would ever walk a hundred yards, let alone 1.5 miles.  

Keep on going, that is what I have learnt, and don't give up.

I might not ever be as fit as I once was, but I am fitter than I have been recently. 

Bless you in your journey, 

Bye for now,

Vx

New fields........

We have moved!

And here is our new home.......

...... It is so different to the house we renovated in France, at least this one was ready to move into, which was a joy. I have done with old houses. The French farm house was at least two hundred years old, and the rented cottage here in England was about the same age, and both were difficult to live in because of the tendency for damp and the tendency for my bones not to like dampness. Anyway, this house was built in around the 1970's, with a pseudo Tudor look which was popular at that time. Building regulations had improved, so the house is dry, which has my bones very pleased. 

The house is on a housing estate and close into the town, which I can walk to when my legs let me. Or else I can get a bike. Or even a scooter. Or even catch a bus. Having lived in a rural community it is nice to have people around. Living remotely is OK, but does tend to make me feel 'not of this world'. There are a lot of people around here, and I like this. It makes me feel 'in life'. 

 I feel very blessed that this is the house which has become our home, and now opens up a new chapter in my life. This house, and its environment, will not let me give in to being elderly. I am, after all, seventy four year old and with a major operation behind me. But no! This house will not let me be weak and feeble about my advancing years. It will not let me park up on the sidelines and let life pass me by. For a start, there is an excellent coffee and cake shop,  which is a ten minute walk along a green lane just behind the house.  Do some walking exercise.....stop at the coffee shop..... have a chat..........then return home. Now that seems like a good idea! 

Part of the back garden. Unlike our farm in France which had thirteen acres of land, this garden is small ..... but big enough to have a garden full of flowers. 

And this is the lower part of the garden, which I have not gone into yet because the steps are a bit steep for my legs to manage. Not to worry........ a few more walks to the coffee shop and back, should get me up and down those steps in no time!

So, bye for now. 

In love and light,

Vx

An Update......

  So I was laid upon a bed in the x-ray unit of Stoke Hospital. After a two bouts of hospitalizations in the last six months, one of which included open heart surgery, I was not in the mood for another CT scan, which is what I was about to have. My newly furbished heart was beating loud enough in my ears enough to worry me in case it wore my new heart valve out before I had chance to adjust to it. In other words, I was a tad stressed although I was trying not to be. 

The vein in my arm was found, instructions about the procedure were said, and the scanner started moving towards me. It is a big circular tube which surrounds the body and it can be claustrophobic, although I had never found it to be on past CT scans.  This time I did. 

And then, zooming in, came my support team....... comprising of angel guides (I shall explain who they are another time), bringing with them a calmness of self and a feeling of being able to conquer all that is laid before me. Not only that, but my dear departed Uncle Jim, Aunty Rose, Uncle Don, Nan and Grandad also made their presence felt, making me feel very supported. I rode through the scan very well after that. The team and my family saw me through.

Now this might seem a bit weird to you, and I would have thought so too if I was not as psychically endowed as I am, and although it is an effort to stay connected to the Source of all that is, which was difficult during the time of my operation and recovery and often I was worried in case that link would never come back. I have worked hard to recovery that link, which has required several weeks of self healing meditations and positive thinking. It was a life test which I found to be long and hard. Not to worry, I am coming out the other side, with a greater connection to the Source of all that is, (or the Universe, or God, or any other name you use to define that power ) 

And I was reminded by the angels on my team that providing I spend time to make the links between me and them, that they can make a call to action when I need it. As for my family members who have passed on........ I never reach out to them like I do my team, they just seem to make their presence known as and when....... and it is not like I am remembering them from the memory files in my head, it is a different energy which I can only but know that they are still around even if they do no longer have a body shape. And, as a matter of interest, Mr Lobb, my piano teacher in my teenage years and who I had forgotten in the mists of time, spoke to me this morning, saying, " Keep your fingers flexible". Being psychically sensitive does make like interesting!

So I have started doing my piano exercises, but think that I shall not play the accordion again. It is a heavy instrument to play and in deference to my re-plumbed heart I think it has to go into history. But not to worry........ I am thinking about learning the melodeon and / or the concertina, which will not have the huge sound of the accordion, but at least I can play some of the our catalogue of music because they are lighter instruments to play.  Meanwhile I shall keep the piano practice going, and I shall not give up on my music. Mr Lobb has said so. 

The House Project:

It is still ongoing, and at the moment we are hoping to purchase a house in Oswestry, on the Shropshire and Welsh border. 

The Walking Project:

I am not walking up and down the lanes outside the cottage very much, but I did walk unaided through the hospital for my CT scan which surprised both me and my partner. And I walked quite strongly up to where he was waiting in the car park after the scan. I am aware that my legs are getting stronger, and that I am doing more jobs in the house. In other words, I am on the mend. 

My heart is settling down, and I am growing in confidence that it is a 'working' heart and not a 'soon to retire' heart. 

All is well, despite the ongoing trials of living life through these unsettling times, which only serve to make us stronger if we try to stay positive that all will turn out alright in the end.

Hope all is well with you. 

Bye for now, 

Vx

Getting better......

28th May 2021: Five weeks post op

So I was lying in bed, thinking about getting up. I am now post op....... five weeks since I had open heart surgery. Four things were done. One was a replacement heart valve, for which I have the paper receipt. Not sure what to do with a paper receipt if the  new valve fails and I am rendered without life......too late then to have a refund.........! Three other repairs were made as well, one of which was some tubing made of cloth...... no receipt though. All good stuff, or it would be if I wasn't so beset with a weariness which is undermining  to the soul. These are the thoughts I was having as I tried to raise myself up of the bed, an effort which took up to thirty minutes if my OH was not available for a 'haul me up' arm to act as a hoist. 

Back in early March I had a phone call from my  would-be surgeon, explaining in graphic detail about  what would be done during my open heart operation ...... He mentioned the possible negatives,  but said if all went well with the op then that I would be out of bed within two days, walking by five, and home within seven. Well that sounded OK. To my mind I would be up and jollying about on my life's pathway again toute suite...this is what I took from his phone call. 

I was feeling no pain pre-op. However, post op ..... and I was fetched up in a completely different landscape, not only full of physical pain, but all sorts of other pain as well....emotional, psychological, physiological, and all sorts of other depressional pot holes as well. This was a landscape I thought I was never going to escape. Gone was my optimism for life, but worse still was my zest for life, ........I was rendered all in pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces jumbled up. 

It is now the 16th June, three weeks after I started this blog, and eight weeks post op, and I am driving my husband mad, because my jigsaw puzzle pieces are now slotted back together and I am now in mid recovery although still tottery on my feet,  huff and puff with my breathing sometimes, and my energy levels are still not up to maximum. Sometimes my mind feels ten steps ahead of my body, which has my husband frequently telling me to slow down and rest. But I am me, and I am feisty, so I argue back, but then feel guilty because he is right and only wants to look after me, bless him. 

I can now walk 100 steps along the lane, but use a walking pole to stop me from tottering too much, but it is one hundred steps more towards recovery and the next chapter in our lives which will begin when we have finally found a home of our own and we can stop living out of boxes. 

Bye for now, 

Love and hugs, 

Vx

 

The Dawn Chorus.....

 Through the open window I heard the first tweets of the Dawn Chorus, that joyful singing of the little birds as they greet the day. It was not a large sing song this morning though, just a little male bird starting to wake up his voice, refreshing his repertory ready to engage a female in his desire to create more of his species. 

It turned into a precious day, a day which had Spring gracing the hours of the day, and saw me out in the garden and chatting to the neighours, feeling the warmth of the sun on my back as the buds on the trees swelled up in the sun's warmth. 

We have put an offer in for the house we viewed on Saturday. It was accepted. 'Jasmine cottage' is the name of the property.....

And today I have a heart scan again. Apparently the one which was taken during my hospital stay was too fuzzy. 

Off to do some meditation to prepare for the day, and ask for blessings of help from The Universe at the same time. I shall ask for you as well. 

Bye for now, 

Vx

Astra Zeneca

Astra Zeneca,  what are you doing to me, for you have made me all stiffo and slightly wobbly.

Punched into my arm yesterday morning, you and I have been introduced by The Government. 

It was a requirement of my surgeon, the one who will be excavating in me to patch things up, that I have the vaccine, because this is what Astra Zeneca is, a Covid vaccine. 

With me and my partner expecting dire things to happen, it was with a sense of relief that all I experienced was a day of very mild flu like symptoms. Although I did go to bed for a few hours, I really did not need to, but thought I would anyway....sort of as a present to myself for getting the vaccine done. 

Today I feel all woozy-headed, which may or may not be as a result of the vaccine, or it may be because of the endless hours we have spent on our computers scrolling up and down as we start searching again for a home for ourselves. 

The Telford bungalow is now filed away in history. A search found that there were some irregularities to the title deed documents, so we had to let it go. A day or two of mourning for the loss of hope, then we got another packet of hope out of our mental cupboards, and are now off to view another property this afternoon. 

It is amazing that we still seem to have enough 'packets of 'hope' to keep going..... that and 'keeping faith that everything will somehow turn out alright'......

Bye for now,

Vx

Deep Thinking Times, 1, 2, and 3

It has been a while since I blogged, but life has got in the way unfortunately. Although not particularly chaotic, certain events required me to have deep thinking times, which rendered me without the words to send onto the pages of this blog. 

So, Deep Thinking Time One:

In October 2020, despite the lockdowns in France, we had people come to view the farm, which we had put up for sale when we left in May 2020 due to circumstances beyond our control. 

Despite our doubts that the young couple would go through with the sale....they did just that, and on 29th January 2021 the farm became theirs. 

Much heart felt thinking have I done over the last few weeks as a result. For a while I felt a sense of loss, almost of home sickness, for the farm, and the life style we had there. 

 

Thirteen years of hard work, and good work, and fun, and downturns and upturns, .......living life, that is what we were doing. But now the farm is in the hands of a young French couple, who hope to continue on what we have built. Time to move on, that is what we are now doing, but only after a lot of thinking time has been spent on making this transition. 

Deep Thinking Time, Two:

Since May 2020 we have been living in a typical English country cottage, which is rented while we search for a new home. We thought that we would move into a house in the country, maybe with a bit of land. A continuation of the smallholding life, we thought. But the months of 2020 brought about Deep Thinking Time Two, that perhaps we were done with smallholding life, that we had enjoyed the experience but that the memories of that life belonged to France and not England. Gradually we were shifting away from that life, and allowing ourselves to do so without holding on to what had been. 

A week before Christmas, and we thought we might have a look at a ground floor dwelling, in other words....a bungalow. Now in my head I have always equated bungalows with old age pensioners......somewhere where you would live when most of your faculties were gone...... but my partner was adamant that we should view the property. 

To my surprise it ticked all the boxes, previous viewings of houses having given us the experience of what we needed to have in a home and what we didn't. Mostly it was to do with floor space for an office, a craft room, a recording room, and maybe somewhere where a meditation room could be set up as well. We were not too bothered by the size of our actual living space, it was the work space which was most important. As for the garden, we found ourselves not wanting agricultural space, but maybe somewhere which would give us a garden which was more of a hobby rather than a 'must do'. The bungalow ticked all these boxes. 

We are currently in the process of purchasing the bungalow. I shall show you photos of it if and when it becomes our home. There are several factors, all to do with finances, which might scupper the purchase. But the bungalow is on New Road, Telford, Shropshire, and is called Libourne. A search on the internet said that Libourne is the name of a village in Aquitaine, France. This village is just north of where the farm is, which is called Labartere. So if we do end up with the bungalow, every time I say its name it will remind me of the connection we had with France. It will feel as if Labartere has led to Libourne, and I am really alright with that, and see the hand of Greater Forces moving me along with the plan of my life. 

Deep Thinking Time, Three:

Towards the end of last year I was having episodes of coughing and general malaise to my breathing apparatus. On the 9th of January 2021 I went into hospital with a particularly bad bout of breathing difficulties,  and was diagnosed with pneumonia, which cleared up within a few days with the help of oxygen and antibiotics. 

However, this is the time of Covid, and on the second night in the hospital I was transferred to another ward which had a patient who had actual Covid symptoms, which rendered me as First Contact Covid in the eyes of those who monitor such things. At the same time I had a CT scan which showed up certain problems, which then encouraged the cardiac people to want to keep me in hospital for further observation. 

So I was put into a Covid isolation 'tent', which is a white plastic gazebo looking appliance designed to keep everything Covid related outside of the tent, and me safe inside. It was a good idea, I suppose, but the nurses had to come in and out of the tent, and I refused to stay in bed, and there was no way I was going to have a chamode to go to the loo on and insisted that I was fit enough to go to the loo by myself and on my own feet. I wore a facemask when anyone came into the tent, as did they. I washed my hands frequently and did all the 'safety' precautions as given by the government.

But I was not going to stay in that tent all the time, so when the six bed ward was quiet I would walk up and down to stretch my legs, and have chats with other patients whilst social distancing, which was easy because all of them stayed in bed. I would not do that, because I thought that actually getting back into bed would be the finish of me. To lay on top of it was alright though, as was sitting in my bedside chair, crocheting, reading, making notes about future projects, and meditating.  

Because we were all in lockdown, no one could have visitors. For four weeks I did not see my other half, although he did bring to the door of the ward items I had requested, but I was not allowed to see him. For us, this was not too bad as we had mobile phones to keep in contact with each other, but for the elderly folk in the wards this was a deep distress. I learnt so much about the human condition during this time, and also of the feeling of comradery between us patients, and the way in which we supported each other. The nurses too, those generous hearted people who took care of us with patience and love. With Covid such a fear in most people, these nurses went beyond their call of duty, especially in the wards 10, 10B, and 8, which were the Covid related wards. 

But I only saw one lady who had actual Covid, the rest of us were First Contact Covid, but with negative results showing when tested. 

And sending blessings to Norah, a 97 year old lady, bed ridden, hardly able to walk, who had to have help with eating sometimes, and was so lonely for her family that it pulled at my heart strings. And to Rosemary, at 93 she had walked into the hospital but was now on a Catheter, and was probably not every going to get out of bed again as she had given up because her family could not visit. And to Chris who helped me sort out my thoughts about being in hospital, and to many others, including the nurses.....some of whom I helped emotionally, some of whom helped me. As I say, it was time of great comradery because of being so isolated from the outside world.

I was alright for the first three weeks, but when week four started I began to feel institutionalised. By now I was in a ground floor ward, and was feeling the effort of continually being positive starting to go beyond me. I had 'enjoyed' the thinking time that being in hospital had given me and had regarded those first three weeks as a time of rest from life. Everything was done for me, and it was good to just enjoy. The pneumonia was now gone, and there was no pain anywhere in my body. However, I was starting to feel that my mobility was sliding away, .....

So what do you do if you were me? And a cardiac doctor comes for a visit? A visit that he should have made four days ago but didn't? What do you do if you are me? You stridently demand that you be let home...... you say that you need to 'rebalance' yourself...... and he is saying that he wants to keep you in for a possible two to four weeks....... and you are resisting, knowing that he might want you to stay in because it is appropriate for your body, but for your mind it is no good because you can feel yourself not yourself.......So he said to give him two more days so he can have a meeting with the cardiac team, and you say 'sorry' to him because he is, after all, only doing his job of trying to take care of me, and so on Thursday he appears and says that I am go home, but to attend Outpatients. 

--------

And that's it so far! It was magical to see my partner waiting to collect me from hospital, and I was relieved to be able to walk from the hospital to the car. I had gone into hospital in a wheelchair. It felt an achievement to be able to walk away from it. 

Overall I feel better in myself. The farm is now in our history, and hopefully soon we shall be in a new home although the cottage is alright for the moment. 

Bye for now, 

In love and light

Vx.

Miracles........

So this morning I was feeling as if my mind was in some sort of fuggy fog, which is not a desirable state to be in because it can lead to the day descending into a downward slide.  

To try and coax my mind to be positive and actively engaged into it 'being a good day to be alive' I pulled a divination card out of my set of tarot cards. 

And 'A Miracle' came up. Oh, I thought, perhaps the house in France is going to sell, perhaps the buyers already interested in purchasing it are going to go through with the sale, perhaps the house we saw at the weekend could then become our new home,......and so on through all the list of things I would like to happen via 'A Miracle'. 

It was early in the day, about 6am. I had time to meditate and send out healing prayers to everyone in my Healing Book, and it came to me that perhaps I had not been wise in assuming that 'A Miracle' deserved to be thought of in such a way, that I didn't need any more miracles happening in my life, because my life was full of miracles....

- I am alive, which is a miracle.

- I have a good partner, and feel it is a miracle that we have come through so much together.

- We are living in a lovely cottage, in a lovely village in Shropshire, which is a lovely county of England, and were greeted upon arrival from France by a landlord  who welcomed us with much warmth. That we even got out of France was a miracle, as was the welcome we received here at the cottage. 

There were a lot of other miracles that occurred to me as I went through the morning, not of what I wanted as future miracles, but what miracles I had in my life right now. Not to be selfish with wanting the acquisition of more miracles to come along, that other people are perhaps more deserving of miracles in their own lives and if there was a certain amount of miracles to be had, then perhaps it would be best going to them. That was my thinking as I flitted through the hours of the day. 

Had a look at my emails, and surprise surprise! There was an email from France saying that the potential buyers of the farm were proceeding with the sale, and could we please send the current Taxe Fonciere (land tax) form to their Notaire (solicitor). Perhaps there was a spare Miracle coming our way, after all, I thought. 

However, although it had the hopes of being a potential miracle, I am having to unravel the nuts and bolts of it. But even as I write this, all of the miracles which have occurred in my life have always held the potential for disaster when they first arrive, and it is only by working through the miracle that I realise that it was indeed a miracle even if I did not at first know that it was one. 

So no great flash, bang, and wallop for me when a miracle arrives. It is just 'Here you go, another challenge for you, and you earn the 'miracle' when you have seen it through'. 

The nuts and bolts of today's miracle are...... yes, the sale is going through, but the barrier between the UK and France is widening now that Brexit is nearly done, which means that our French bank will not allow us access to it because we are now living in the UK, so we either have to go back to France to live, or write the farm off. And then if we do go to France again, our UK Bank will not allow us access to it either, and our incomes will diminish into zero. 

Ok, so not to worry. I keep thinking of the 'Miracles' card, which is reminding me of everything which had turned out alright in the end, thus rendering me awash with miracles which have only occurred to me in hindsight.  

Perhaps you, too, might have some miracles in your life, which are hidden to you at this time and just need seeing the light of day.........

Blessings to you, 

Bye for now,

Vx

  

 

- 

Pond update, and the bowl......

The Pond..... and it is good news, although not so good as to have the origination of the pond dispensed with, so we still do not have central heating. However, a plumber has been to 'access the situation', with the good news that the emersion water heater is alright to use, so hot water can now be had. And the pond? It is now spreading out into a very damp patch, which unfortunately is oozing itself into the vicinity of the stairs. I did put a towel on top of a plastic sheet in front of the bathroom door when the pond was in its earlier stages of sogginess, but towels on top of plastic sheets at the top of the stairs would not be advisable, I thought.   And a drip plopped down on my head when I was in the kitchen this evening. 

But, hot water! Such a blessing! I now have no excuse to leave the washing up..... and because the bathroom is like an ice box without central heating, I have taken to having a quick wash in the mornings at the kitchen sink. To be doing this with a stack of washing up piled high is difficult. It is a cottage kitchen, so is tiny, as is the sink area. Me and the dishes have no room for each other, so one has to be done before the other can  be attended to. The washing up bowl has to oblige both. I used to have several bowls back in France, but they were not brought back to the UK. I need a bowl all to myself. 

A Saturday morning trip into the outskirts of Shrewsbury, and we found B & Q, a DIY shop which Lester had been pointed to by a neighbour last weekend as having a stack of electric fires for sale, the same neighbour who had been concerned about our lack of heating, and who had brought round his Mother's electric fire for our use. Sadly it fused the electric circuit board though. I did mention to the neighbour, a man of age but with the spirit of a ten year old, if the fire had been intact when his Mother used it last, she now having moved in with the angels above. However, since he is a grand DIY person and has sheds in the back garden which house all manner of interesting paraphanalia, including a brand new big boys motor bike...... to be admired, and dreamed about, but never ridden, .........I did think that perhaps he had used the top of the fire as a perch to sit something heavy on, which would account for its buckled state and the reason why it fused our electrics, bless him. 

Anyway, the B & Q store was found, and Lester bought a couple of fires last weekend.  So I had it in my mind that the store might also have a bowl. It didn't. But we had a walk round the huge cavern of a warehouse shop, and it came into our minds that we have no need of anything to do with home decorating and DIY products, that since we are in a rented cottage we are now free of having to ' do a house up' , which is a relief after the thirteen years we spent renovating our French home. I think that The Universe decided that we needed a holiday from house renovations! 

So I am still sharing the bowl with the washing up. Not to worry. The plumber may / or may not be here tomorrow to start fixing the leak, but it does not matter because he will be here sometime in the future, preferably before the end of 2020. Keep hope alive. That is what you have to do. 

Bye for now, 

Vx 

An inside pond, and update......

 So............. we have a pond.....but not an 'outside' pond, which is where you would normally expect to find one, but an 'inside' pond. Fortunately it is not a deep pond, but a 'splashy' pond, which is just as well because it has centred itself right in the middle of the bathroom doorway. 

OK, so this is perhaps an exaggeration on my part, but to go in and out of the bathroom does require the feet coming into contact with very wet and soggy carpet. 

And the origination of this patch is? The now defunct central heating which saw fit to blow a gasket a week ago mid way through the coldest patch of weather we have had so far in the UK, the evidence of this disaster being the splashing of water coming down from the ceiling of the kitchen as noticed by my partner, who was in the middle of a phone call to the National Health Service Help Line who was busy informing him that I ought to be taken to hospital because it sounded like I had border line pneumonia, after having had some horrendous coughing fits through the night. 

Oh well. The good news is that I refused to go into hospital, that I have recovered from that 'border line' position by going onto YouTube and looking at videos about exercises to clear congestion on the lungs, and am drinking loads of water to clear my system out. One week on, and I am up on my feet. AND..... I managed to walk 400 paces up and down the village lane outside the cottage, for two days in a row, at dusk, which was magical. Keep moving, that is what I need to do.  

Fortunately the weather is very mild at the moment, so the lack of any heating in the house is copeable with. This is our first winter here in the UK after having lived thirteen years in SW France, which is a lot warmer. Not to worry, we can cope. A neighbour was kind enough to donate a fire so we could keep warm, and a visit to B & Q on Sunday sourced a couple more. We won't have heating over all of the house, but we can have heating in small patches of it. 

Meanwhile, .... the landlord of the cottage has organised a plumber to come and assess the damage. It is an elderly cottage so things will go wrong with it, the same as it does for us. We could have done with not having floor boards and ceilings dug up, but, well, it is as it is. We did think of moving out, and we still might have to if the work is too extensive, but we are just getting settled in, and we are very appreciative of the good things about living here. The only down side is that the repair is likely to be done in the colder weather, possibly near to Christmas, if not after it. Oh well, as I say, not to worry. 

So, all is well. Everything seems quite heavy around us but it well pass. The farm in France has had people interested in buying it, so hopefully it will sell eventually. The cottage has now got a leaky insides, but hopefully that will get fixed eventually. I have got dodgy insides, but hopefully self healing, meditation, and generally keeping upbeat about things will fix me up. Keep praying to The Universe, and asking for help that all will be well, both for us, for our nations, and for peace in this world of ours,  that is what I do. Sometimes I slip and falter and fall into despair, but what good is that........ keep going, that is what I need to do. 

So sending blessings to you, and wishing you well.....

Vx

There and back again......

 I am sorry for the lapse in time since my last blog. No excuse, other than that there were no words in my head to write with......but here I am, and the good news is that Lester has made the trip down to SW France to retrieve our personal possessions, and then made it back to Shropshire with no bumps or knocks to either himself or the van. 2000 miles, in three days, leaving at 6am on Thursday and getting back 10pm Saturday, with the van loaded with boxes, instruments, the lawnmower, and some flat packed furniture. The 'posh' furniture stayed at the farm, to be sold with the house. There is no room for it in our new life. 

I think Lester is a hero. Apart from our clothes, it was mostly my crafting equipment which he brought back, plus my collection of notebooks of writings, and camera related equipment. It is good to have it back. I feel less like having half of me in England and half of me still in France. It was a very divided feeling.

Meanwhile, we are going through another series of adjustments as we leave go of Labartere, our smallholding in SW France, which has sort of faded from our life now that Lester has made the trip. I find it amazing how we keep adjusting to all the ups and downs of 2020, although we are feeling worn out with all the effort it has taken. We need some quiet time now to repair ourselves, before we start searching for our own house. Even though the cottage is a very nice place to be staying in, we are always aware that it belongs to somebody else.

......meanwhile, I am making a mess everywhere! There are partly unpacked boxes in the garage, with just four more to open so I can investigate there contents. When I packed them back in March, it was necessary to try and keep the boxes at a  minimum because of having to load them into a van for transport. So it was higgledy piggledy packing I did, with things put here and there as room in the boxes became available. Therefore there is no order. So........ I have to unpack them here, sort out what we need and what can be left in the boxes for our next move, which then have to be resealed in case little living things decide to cosy up for the winter in them. 

Only one large dustbin bag, filled with cushions, was found to be a possible hotel for larger 'little' living things (rats.....the evidence being the size of their toilet leavings).  A peek inside the dustbin bag, .....a very quick closure of the same bag, ......and a quick exit outside of the garage for the bag in case any French rats were wanting to rehome themselves.....better to have them outside rather than enjoying the comfort of the boxes. 

So..... the garage is full of unpacked boxes, and the house has bits and pieces all over it as I rehome things, in particular there is a traffic jam at the foot of the stairs as most of the things needing rehoming is my stuff. Since the stairs and me are new to each other, ( we lived on the ground floor for thirteen years so my legs forgot how to 'do' stairs)  the effort of taking the stuff  up the stairs is taking a time. I have put the things in plastic supermarket bags for ease of transport. There are quite a few bags at the foot of the stairs. It might take a time to get the backlog done with, the amount of bags going up the stairs being determined by the number of loo runs I do. We have an upstairs loo. One of the requirements for our next house is that it must have a downstairs loo. Although it is fair to say that my legs have benefitted from the exercise. 

Signing off for now, 

Vx

 

Snoozing, and a trip.....

My OH and Maz, having a quiet afternoon snooze....

 

And the cottage, basking in the late summer sun,

and Bluebell, our Berlingo, doing the same. 

And the front of the cottage......

So I am having a try at getting some photos posted up on the blog, experimenting with different sizes of frame which have all turned out the same size, or so it would seem. Oh well, trial and error.

Meanwhile, I am keeping company with my OH as he goes through the paperwork necessary for his trip tomorrow. Off to France he is going, down to the farm to retrieve our personal possessions, before second spikes, more lock downs, and anything else the French and UK governments want to throw at the people, plus Brexit is simmering away, which could upset the borders. 

Fortunately, France is allowing the UK to cross into their country at the moment, but there are forms for coming back into the UK which have to be filled in. When we came up from France in May, it was the French who required papers to be carried by people travelling. 

It was a sudden decision to do this trip. We seem to have a window of opportunity, so my OH thought he would take it. I shall not be going with him. I have Maz to look after.

My OH has rented a walloping big van, and bought a Sat Nav. 

He is off in the morning.

I am packing him up some cheese sandwiches.

Bye for now, 

Vx

Sale crashed, and French kissing.

 And so the news came through from the estate agent handling the sale of our farm in France, that the people hoping to buy it had received news that the people who were buying their house had pulled out of their sale. 

Oh well, it is as it is. 

Lester hoped to get down to France to collect some of  our possessions, like: winter clothing, musical instruments, sewing machine and craft equipment, writing notebooks, etc.......all our personal possessions,  but no furniture, which we have written off, and left in the house. but the French government is introducing stricter Covid rules today which means that it is unlikely that he will be able to go. It is all very unsettling. 

---

Meanwhile, the Village Hall in Stanton might be opening for a monthly ladies 'cup of tea, chat, and craft' morning next month, but with masks on. Not sure I want to sit for an hour or so breathing in my own carbon dioxide, although I did think of making a crochet mask which will get the oxygen into my lungs because of the open weave of the fabric.  I got the idea of a crochet mask when I saw someone wearing one when I was having a coffee in the Town Hall in Wem, and thought 'Now that is a good idea', but I am thinking that a woollen mask might be alright for keeping the face warm in the coldest of winter days, but it might be too hot other times, as in centrally heated shops. I think I might have to rethink that idea.

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France is a very kissy-kissy nation, with everyone kissing everyone on both cheeks, even partial strangers. Having a tall, swarthy, black curly haired, Spanish/French builder man leaning towards me to give me a kissy-type of greeting was quite acceptable,  but there were occasions when it felt too invasive of my personal space. And female to female kissy greetings never felt quite right. Then there was the problem of which side of the cheek to plant the kissy salutation. Often there would be a mild bumping of noses when both of you misjudged the direction of the other. 

Then there were the times when you didn't feel like kissy-kissying a particular person, and the last thing you wanted to do was get close to them, and most times they felt the same.  So then there would be a stretching of the necks towards each other, but a holding back of the bodies so a respectable distance was kept between you  while the kissy-kissy salutation was done, which was a most ungainly stance for both participants. 

But it is the French culture, so it is as it is, but I am wondering how the people of France are managing in this time of the Covid face masks, which must be hurting the psychology of the population. As lock down began there was a cessation of this habit of kissing others, which for me was a relief. While it was a novelty in the beginning of our time in France, I did start regarding it as a bit of a faff, and eventually I started holding myself back and began extending my hand to give a handshake instead, which is a much more British way of doing things!

Have got some photos to show you but they are still in my new camera phone and I have yet to learn how to download them. Technology! It just seems to get more and more advanced as time goes by,  and has me chasing after it like I am chasing a runaway horse! 

Bye for now

Vx

63, .....then 73

For thirteen years we lived on a smallholding in France and then circumstances overtook us and we find ourselves back in England, but not in the South East as before, but in Shropshire, which is in the Midlands. At the moment we are in the middle of making this transition between the two countries, are living in rented accommodation with all our belongings still in the South West of France because of the Covid restrictions of the two countries.....meanwhile we are looking for a place of our own, but are in no hurry because our rented cottage is a lovely place to spend our transition time in...........

Notes taken on August 26th 2010 ......at 63 years old

These notes were taken from the blog, when we were in full flow with living the life of smallholders.

 "I don't want to seem maudling, or difficult, or silly, but having been conditioned to buying meat from a supermarket shelf for years, to recycle our animals after tending to their welfare and getting to know them, ........well.....it does take an adjustment to our thinking, which we are doing, step by step. 

Smallholding, or small farm living, is the best of lives to live but one has to learn new ways, create new habits of thought, grapple with many new activities, not mind that one's hands and fingernails no longer look pristine, or that one's clothes do not seem to stay clean for very long because there is always something or someone wanting to leave their mark on you. And the tiredness which accompanies this steep new learning curve. That, too, can be draining. 

But it is all worth it. I only have to take my mind back to the lifestyle I had in the UK, before we began our French smallholding life. It was a very comfortable and safe life, but it was making us too complacent, and to be quite honest, a dullness was creeping in because of the habits we were living under. Fortunately all that changed when we left the shore of the UK, and embraced this challenge. Facing challenges wakes you up. We might be tired sometimes, but we have life energy, and at 63 years of  age, that is the best blessing I could be given. 

So if you are thinking of heading off into other directions in your life: do it! You might not be watching your recycled bit of sheep bubble away in a pot on your cooker, but your new direction might require of you some steep learning curves as well. This is good because it takes you away from the emotional mud which bogs others down, who are too afraid to break the day to day cycle of their lives and who therefore become old before their time.

I'm going to be old someday. When I am 104. Meanwhile, I have to go put that piece of lamb in the oven to give it a bit of a roasting. "

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Ten years on...... September 2020....... 73 years old now

Wow, what a great ten years to put into memory, and how glad I am that we took up the challenge to go to France, even if most people who knew us thought we were just plain stupid. 

During the last year or so of living in France we became jaded about smallholding life, that it was too strenuous a life style, that it was difficult to earn a living from a smallholding especially because of the French tax system,  and then Brexit appeared, and so on......... And it was our intent to never run a smallholding again, which we followed through with when we arrived in Shropshire and started looking at small houses with tiny gardens. 

But as the weeks have passed, we  find ourselves looking at houses online which have bigger gardens, and the other day my OH mentioned that he would like to have a large greenhouse so he could investigate the aquaponic system of growing things, while I would still like to investigate the growing of micro greens. It would seem that we are not quite done with being smallholders, even if it is on a smaller, more manageable, scale!

Bye for now

Vx