Monthly Archives: July 2016

Back to the Limousin (continued)

The flight went smoothly, though our plane was not as spanking new as the last one, and we were soon coming into land.

Unsurprisingly there were no delays for disabled passengers at the Limoges end, and as soon as the other travellers had disembarked I was able to walk down the steps – having previously been asked if I would prefer to be carried in a wheelchair – five of which were lined up at the bottom of the steps.  So down we went to be politely and efficiently (and unquestioningly) pushed through passport and baggage control, and then the double doors opened and there was the smiling face of lovely Lisa, who had come to collect me

I thought a night without Phoebe would be in order in case I was tired from the flight, but went off next morning to collect her, as it was over three weeks since we had seen each other.

I know she loves staying there, and has such fun with all the other dogs, that I wondered if she would be pleased to see me after my absence, or whether she had enjoyed herself there so much that I would be just another human to make a fuss of her.

I have to say my heart was touched at her greeting.

First of all I went into the entrance hall, and though I could hear a dog barking, it was such a deep and grown-up bark I didn’t recognise it as being Phoebe’s voice.  But no!  It was her.

She had grown and her bark was correspondingly deeper and more impressive than when I had seen her last.  She bounded into the room and was SOOOOOO pleased to see me – almost trembling with joy that I was back, and in fact for the rest of the evening she lay sighing deeply and cuddling into me.  Only dog-owners will know what I mean.

Back to the Limousin

On my Birthday ‘Day’ my two brothers were taking me out for lunch at nearby Brockencote Hall.  A favourite family get-together location, and it was, as usual, a lovely meal in very pleasant and relaxed surroundings.

It was great to meet up with them both, and I had a lovely surprise when Mike came to collect me in the Triumph TR7 which he bought as a bit of wreck from a barn somewhere and has been restoring himself over the last few months.  It has been a labour of love, but with a terrific result.

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It was his first outing in it, and it wasn’t strictly finished as it was still awaiting the fitting of its new hood, but unexpectedly the day dawned hot and sunny, so he quickly screwed on any missing bits and brought it out for its inaugural run.  It was perfect weather, and though it has been many years since I have raced around in an open-topped sports car I have to say it was great fun.

Sadly Sally had needed to pop up to the Farm to sort out something so I wasn’t able to wish her farewell and thank her for all her kindnesses, and though Mike drove us there we had missed her by minutes, and of course even if we had passed her on the road she wouldn’t have recognised us in the different car anyway.  So I had to leave without saying goodbye.

After a splendid and rather long lunch it was back to Mike’s to spend the night before he drove me to the airport for the flight back to France.  It was lovely having the chance to see the family and find out how my niece and nephew were getting along with the dreaded ‘exams’ and though both seem fairly relaxed about it all I know they are hard workers.  I expect they and their parents will be pleased when the stress of it all is over for another year and they can, hopefully, enjoy a laid-back summer.

My flight from Bristol was a morning one, and wanting to be certain we did not get held up in traffic we were up early and on the road well before six, but it was an easy journey down there and we were soon parked up.  With my previous experience of Bristol airport I suggested Mike went in search of a wheelchair so I could arrive looking suitably in need, which though improved in stamina, I still very much was.  In fact we had made such good time that we both decided a coffee might be in order before Mike departed and I was left to take my chances with the Bristol Airport staff.

Back down at the Disability Assembly Point Mike parked me up and I waved him off.  I have to say I fared much better than on my arrival and a super young guy arrived to push me to the check-in point.  He had been working at the airport for around a year, and was absolutely loving his job and it showed.  My check-in went smoothly and quickly, and afterwards I found myself in a corral with other folk needing assistance, where we calmly and quietly waited.

Now – I am not certain if it was the same guy who supervised the pushees and pushers last time I was at Bristol airport, , but he arrived asking who was for the Limoges flight? –  and once again there were five of us.  Like obedient school children we raised our hands.

“Okay”  “Who needs to be pushed in a wheelchair?”

Hmmmm.   Five ladies and gentlemen – all in their late 60’s to 90’s sitting in wheelchairs in a corral marked ‘Disabled Assembly Point’.

I straight away said “Me”

“Its only just over the road – less than 50 yards.”  Was the disgruntled reply.  But I was having non of it, and probably following my example neither was anyone else, and it was a good job as it was more like 150 or 200 yards, which is nothing when you are fit, but quite an effort when not, plus I would have had my luggage to take care of.  I wished I had my cheerful young helper from earlier in the morning.

When he couldn’t get any of us to relinquish our chairs we were grudgingly trundled out to the rusting machine which would fork-lift us onto the aeroplane.

Once again there was a delay in being able to be seated once we were in the aircraft, but this time I had much more standing ability and was finally shepherded down the aisle complete with my baggage which was jammed in the overhead locker for me and I was ready for the flight, which this time I shared with a couple going on holiday.

I have always been proud to be British, well I feel English actually, but my comparisons with the French way of doing things is denting this somewhat.  Of course it is all down to individuals and their personalities ………. but………

Surprise Birthday Bash!

The Bank Holiday proved pretty wet, and was a bit of a wash out for Sally up at the Farm, though I did get to go up after they had closed one night and have a go on the Bouncy Castle, after I had told Sally I was buying a rebounder trampoline, which is supposed to help in draining the lymphatic system.

I have so many ‘firsts’ with that girl – and that night was my first ‘go’ on a Bouncy Castle

One of her lovely friends, a nurse who had lost her mother to cancer and who seemed very worried about me invited us up to her house for the evening, and it was a lovely time.  The day had been sunny and there was a lit chimnea ,which they had installed in a lovely enclosed area at the top of their pretty garden, and we sat there until late in the evening chatting and enjoying the warmth it threw out, which was quite surprising.  I think that may be a must for the ‘French House’ as it makes staying outside so much more inviting.

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The next day – Thursday – which was the day prior to my birthday Sally had arranged a surprise.  I must admit I am often a bit wary of Sally’s surprises, and still not feeling strong I more or less insisted on knowing what it was so at least I could be prepared if it was something more energetic than I was up to.  But it was a lovely surprise

I was being taken to a Crystal Healing Centre for Crystal Healing Therapy Session, so I was really looking forward to that.  And it was a soothing and restoring experience, plus Sally insisted on buying me a selection of Healing Crystals and vast array of bracelets to wear.  So much that I was slightly worried about the weight of my baggage on the flight back to France.

Feeling buoyed up from that I was taken back to the caravan, where I had arranged for another Reflexology Treatment from the lovely lady who had visited me before.  I felt well and truly spoilt

The rest of the day Sally seemed busy and in the early evening everyone else seemed to disappear so I rested up a bit, though I have to say each day I was feeling a bit stronger than the day before.

Pat, Sally’s Mum, suddenly appeared to say that Sally had cooked and there was food for us up at the farm, and she had come to give me a lift there. On the way to the farm I had a slightly distressing phone call from the UK .  A friend had received a copy of the letter from my homoeopathic doctor and not knowing what it was I asked her to read it out for me.  Of course, it was phrased in a way which was not very optimistic as to my future, and poor Sue seemed more upset than I was about it.   But then……..I know I intend to confound the ‘so-called’ experts and get well.  But suddenly we had arrived and I was surprised by the amount of cars parked up

Lovely Sally had been working all afternoon at a surprise birthday party for me – complete with bunting and  banners.  And what a truly wonderful surprise it was!

If someone had commented earlier in the week that they had never seen so many ‘bleeping’ vegetables in their lives, then I think that now I would be able to agree with them.  Together with Jack she had raided the local Waitrose – and had cleared them out of organic fruit and veg.  Plus an organic birthday cake and a huge Magnum of Bollinger Champagne – which she assured me she had checked online and was also organic

I had the Happy Birthday song sung and was covered with hundreds and thousands of glittery stars from party poppers.  Truly a birthday to remember! Thank you Sally Jones and your wonderful caring family and friends.

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Today as I write this entry – on my wrist is lovely a Friendship Band, one of  several specially made as a birthday gift by Sally’s Mum, Pat, and as I wear mine each day, so they will wear their’s – sending me healing thoughts until I am well.

What a wonderful thought – Thank you, you lovely people!