The final posting of all time

15 MAY 2014

Captain Sensible and his Sweetpea, Little Feet and Big Feet had many magical moments in this hameau.  We achieved the rural romantic dream or nightmare (depends which day it was, what the weather was like, what problems beset us and who we saw, if anyone) of living in an idyllic house, in an idyllic countryside, in an idyllic country.  We were indeed happy for much of the time.

In the last weeks of residence, (I'd moved in May 2010,  but returned for shelter as my house was uninhabitable, then left again 13 months later) we spent the time being sort of happy together.  After that he came to live at my house for two weeks. It was a transition.

STUFF OF LIFE
There was much to clear in his attic which had once contained 'my boxes'.  It was kind of comforting to see his stuff that it appeared he had never looked at since we moved in.  Funny that a few years ago he'd threatened to burn all my boxes stored there because I hadn't been able to get at them and sort the contents although I had tried one week but it just got repackaged as a lot was duplicates of what we had or we had no homely storage cupboards and anyway I didn't need the old life!

Then the workshop of tools and building stuff which he said he'd sorted and maybe had, but it didn't look that way.  Most was moved to my stable/garage building.

Then the garden. I took old pamments to make a garden pathway.and the rest of my garden pots.  I re-inherited garden tools I'd left for him and other useful items, such as black bins,  kindling wood, oak logs which I paid for then realised I'd already paid for them several years ago! There waa about 3 stere not to mention what we left there.

From the house most of the furniture came back to me. A friend will take the washing machine as I  bought a new one four years ago. The fridge and freezer have passed to me which is good as my inherited fridge acted as a freezer. I re-acquired the stuff of kitchens and a shared home. We moved clothing  bits and bobs, light-bulbs, batteries, lamps into my attic to sort as I hope to have a yard sale.  Some stuff went to Emmaus.

Then there was the big sweep of unwanted debris in all areas.
Whoosh ... several trailer loads were delivered to the dechetterie.

I am looking after his Personal effects whilst he goes travelling for how long is unknown.
His flight is is booked. His backpack weighs 10kg!  Now of no fixed abode!

One life dies and another life or lives live. 
It took about six weeks not working every day to clear out,  clean up and disband the dream that went wonky.  It formed a kind of closure on a life that once was mine!  I feel free!  He probably feels free despite his anxiety. I hope he heals and grows on his travels.  He was a great friend!
Thank you for Captain Sensible and Thank you Village de Vaux for all the coup de coeur, for all the joys and sorrows between 2003 and 2014.
I regret that we could not resolve the battles in each of us and between us!  That was sadness! 
Good bye Captain Sensible and HIS Sweetpea.
Goodbye Village de Vaux.


I am trying to convert this blog to a book.
Still not done it January 2018!

A Ballad of Tears not Pleasures, A Ballad of Pleasures not Tears

9th February 2014

Village de Vaux is being sold.

We don't walk together anymore at this house.

Maybe in the future we may walk together as friends.

Through joy and sorrow, love and pain, we came to France to have things to do and people to see and places to go to.

Sometimes it happened and sometimes it did not.

I have made mistakes and so has he.

Now he can be free to have his things to do, go to meet new people, stop being a hermit, and go to explore new places.

Hopefully, he will achieve all that he wants to do and needs to, that somehow my presence in his life stopped him or prevented him from finding his own courage!

He doesn't know where he is going to go or what he is going to do except he would like to book a flight ticket!

2014 New beginnings with closure of almost a lifetime

1st January 2014

Since two years ago when this blog ended and for many a year before that, there has and had been physical, mental and emotional upheaval, melodrama and ill-health one episode on top of another. 
I never faced up to that!  I often camouflaged my own truths. I even told lies!  Sometimes, one couldn't see or feel where the wound was!  So how could one heal?  However, in intervening moments there were many positive events glueing 'it' together, but not seamlessly.

It has taken a while to understand grief and bereavement that does not necessarily arise from death.

On reflection, I mourned not having a childhood with hugs and demonstrative love.  I didn't achieve  aspirations that my music teacher had for me, but I found the correct level of my abilities. 
I was successful.  I grieved over a failed marriage. I mourned the loss of a foetus.  I mourned when children 'grew up' and flew the nest. I did my best under the circumstances!  I worked/studied hard without enough playtime, in times of poverty, and yet, with support I invested wisely to be where I am today with a little help from friends.  I was desolate at the loss of a career to which I was devoted. I mourned the loss of womanhood which happens to many of us!  It had a greater impact than I ever realised.  I was bereft when I moved from my beautiful house that had been lovingly restored by hands of one I loved.  Rootless.  Restless.  I was LOSTINFRANCE even when I bought my own property again in which to shelter me and my belongings. I mourn the loss of youth and pretend I am 16, 26, 36, etcetera...
All that in my life was absolutely necessary so that I would face life, step up, grow up, increase my independence.
All that hid the makings of who I really am.
All that has brought me to where I am today.
All that was because from time to time people had faith in me when I didn't.
All that was because along the journey there were those who loved me for those moments in time.

All the tears of years has taken a huge emotional toll on my being, emotional damage, emotional outpourings to friends and family. Although not completely under control, my tears pour forth at angers, frustrations, overwhelming happinesses and sadnesses, be they mine or belonging to others. I am an emotional person and proud of it! Laughter is in my life to remind me about the absurdities of life. I try to love those who I think have wronged me. I try to love those who loved me. I try to love those who enter my personal space. I try hard to treat others as I would wish to be treated.
It doesn't always work out as I would like. I am imperfect.

When an adult cries it is because the inner child is asking to be healed, asking to be loved and understood because some event / words / action has caused the inner child to feel insecure, rejected, abandoned, confused, unloved......
When a child cries does one shout at it in anger?
When a child cries does one isolate it from humanity and love?
When a child cries does one criticize and blame it for weaknesses and faults and being incapable of dealing with whatever is the unknowing cause of unhappiness?
When a child cries do we belittle it, make it feel small and insignificant with our dominance in an attempt to show it who is boss, who is in control?

No... one gives it hugs and L-O-V-E and attempts to support the negativity and change that into positive elements.

One door closes and others open... and so it is so...
Opportunity arises from every adversity.
Suffering makes one stronger. 
Sometimes we fight against what is not good for us, believing that it is good.
We hang on like limpets when it is better to flow with the tide.
Sometimes we scuttle backwards and forwards over the same sand but without progress along the strand!
It is better to be a free bird than caged where wings are pinioned, feathers are dilapidated, preventing the lark from ascending!!!!!!!

I learned that I have been a slow learner. I've needed to be still, to have time and the opportunity to reflect and count blessings.  It's hard to define but I certainly have learned that no one is going to take away from me ever again my independence.  I have learned to be proud of my body and know that I own the power of Woman. 

I might amend the above... I'll see... but what I write is true and I write it for me and no one else......

The Final Posting of the Year

apart from finding the courage to publish the new blog address, SweetpeainFrance wishes everyone a very Happy New Year.

I wish all the Village de Vaux readers, who have contributed to 9307 page views of my 355 postings since I started this blog, all the very best of wishes for 2012 and thereafter.

I hope you receive kindness, good health, happiness and much more of the positive elements of living life in a challenging world.

For me I am on a slow learning curve, looking at a half-full glass.
So Cheers to you all as I toast in 2012.
Over and out from SweetpeainFrance

 

A love song which touches my heart

Penning the penultimate posting

This is the penultimate posting for SweetpeainFrance.
She will publish the link to her new blog when it is up and running in a few weeks time.
Meanwhile something to listen to.

Stag Beetles

Marvellous, magnificent beasts.

On Wednesday at Angles sur L'Anglin there was a beautiful Stag Beetle trapped by himself into a large builder's bucket and his glossy back was dusty. After a photo shoot he was let free and attempted to bury himself under a log. I let him be.

On Thursday at Village de Vaux a Stag Beetle fell one metre to the ground from a Laurel bush. He was shiny and feisty.  Big Feet came to look and leapt into the air when her nose got too close. I suspect it emitted some form of protective liquid.

They have marvellous antlers which when the beetle marches forward hold together as if locked into position. It reminded me of a Roman soldier, strong, determined, ready to march many miles.

I haven't seen Stag Beetles for several years. Perhaps they like the warm, dry, conditions.

I will do some further research, report here later and add some photos. I'm just a tad pushed for time and need to be better organised for posting.

Meanwhile, let me tell you that we have had 14mm of rain since Monday.


These are interesting links:

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-dorset-13710152

The sound of the larvae can be heard here: 
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-12138245 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/science-environment-12132360

With thanks to the BBC.

To June

The wind has been blowing so much that doors bang unless propped open. Then dust comes in so we have to open and close each door. My house has many doors.
The driving wind is driving us mad!  I would detest living anywhere near the Mistral.
The wind is a sign that the weather is to change and rain is forecast!

5 little swallows sitting in the porch

I can't open the kitchen door but will have to sometime soon.
"It’s a shaky time when chicks first leave the nest but all part of the natural process when they learn to survive on their own." RSPB

Five, beautiful baby swallows are sitting on the metal angles that support the glass French verandah above the entrance door. These are not my favourite architectural inventions but they do keep the rain and snow from falling immediately outside the door. I am over at Angles sur L'Anglin and seemingly a temporary prisoner in my own home. Mummy and daddy swallow re-appear very frequently, to swoop at a fledgling and feed it. Sometimes they hover over one gaping mouth as if to feed it but then suddenly choose another.  There is a pecking order. The stronger bird seems to get fed more and is getting stronger more quickly!  Such is life!

The meteo for this region says 25 degrees Celsius but it feels hotter than that. The rear garden is incredibly hot. I have had to retreat indoors.  Thinking about doing all the jobs that need to be done is too much and I have succumbed to laziness and creative writing.

I was only sitting in the shade in the rocking chair that does not rock a lot when I became quite hot and flustered. I am drinking copious quantities of tea. Cold, black or green tea is delicious. The concert of birds in the back garden is good listening material. Hoopoe was seen to fly from 7 o'clock to 1 o'clock diagonally across the garden. Blackbirds, Black redstarts, sparrows, chaffinch, pigeons, doves, rooks are all content.

I decided to go to my car and find the camera but I couldn't locate it which is a pity. As I exited the door below the baby swallows, some fledglings flew away.  I felt very bad. But then they returned and I don't like to go out again and disturb their mealtime.

In June

I change my tune..................
the cuckoo has commenced its garbled warblings of
cuck cuck cuckoo
cuck cuck cuckoo
cuck cuck, cuck cuck, cuck cooooooooooooooooooooo
we're not yet in June
though it feels like August
in the heat of the sun
gin and tonic a must
5pm
later
sun bares teeth upon golden skin causing us to seek shade
as bright light make us squint to see to the end of the field
now grasshoppers sing
if I could
I would
lie
in the hammock
all evening and listen to the songs of the wild.
Meanwhile a bedroom window is open for me to listen and hear.
She stops.
and reminds me that even no nightingales have been heard for several days.
June will change my tune....................

The rain came

last night with a strong, fresh breeze bringing a thunderstorm and lighting the sky with orange explosions.  This morning the rainometer (minor memory loss - what IS the correct word?)  measured 5mm, but as it was positioned under a canopy of tree leaves perhaps there was more rain.  This region has had drought conditions for several weeks.  Whereas no rain fell here, at Angles sur l'Anglin about 15 miles south east, had 26mm several weeks ago in one downpouring! 
Our neighbour will be happier as he was having to feed his sheep some of the newly cut hay! The sheep, all newly shorn, streamed into the uncropped grass in the field behind the house.  Our neighbour helped us stack 10 steres of oak logs and another wood that burns brightly, we think is called hornbeam, but his French word for it defeats translation from dictionaries and the internet.