Frog Soup

posted by stitchwitch on Jun 25

It’s maybe a cliché to say that some good comes of everything …. but clichés are only clichés because they are true.

Our long and laborious stint of helping out our neighbour who is ill and has been abandoned has had some surprising results.

The French family that owns the house that she rented assumed that we were old friends of the English woman - because normally no one would put themselves out for complete strangers. When I went around to check out the house once it was empty, I put her right - no, we had never met her before, she wasn’t an old friend, we had just helped her out because she was in difficulties.

So today, we are sat out in the garden, sipping our coffee and admiring our flowers and the landlady walks past - she greets us like long lost mates. We exchange the usual pleasantries about how nice the weather is, how she likes the sun, how I can’t sit out in it because I am fair-skinned (usual French joke about roast beef) and she goes off wishing us a nice day.

So there we go - our standing in the community is up and that can only be to the good. Maybe all that hard work wasn’t wasted?

posted by stitchwitch on Jun 20

I had a nasty accident on my motorbike, Tonto, a couple of years ago. Since then I have found every excuse under the sun NOT to get back on.

My psychiatrist - truly wonderful chap - suggested that I was developing phobias not only about going back to work but also about riding my bike.

So today I took the bike out. It felt wonderful. I am sure my confidence will come back quick time. Hooray!

posted by stitchwitch on Jun 19

The French system is horribly complex. I have had to go through a lot of hoops to get to go back to work part time and get part of my salary paid by the Social Security. So on Tuesday I went to see yet another official doctor to tell her my story and get her to arrange things so that my employers don’t try to screw me into the ground again.

Heard today from the doctor I saw on Tuesday. She moves quickly that woman! She’s been in touch with my shrink, my employers and got all my conditions worked out for me to go back on 1st July.

So now seems a good time to sit here and think about what I have learned from the last year during my absence from work. No experience, however horrible, is wasted if you learn from it, so I hope I have noticed the lessons thrown at me in the last 12 months.

I’ve learned to take things slowly - multi tasking isn’t always a skill, it can be a symptom of panic mode. The Buddhist concept of doing things mindfully is a good idea - hang the washing out mindfully, fully appreciating the slight breeze on your face, the feel of the damp clothes on your fingers, the pleasing symetry of something hung well.

Me time isn’t selfish - it’s essential. Whether it is a solitary walk, a hot bath, reading a trashy book that appeals to you anyway, riding your bike around the block like a kid or phoning your best friend for twenty minutes just to hear their voice, because emails don’t do it properly …. it’s the little things that are valuable.

Saying “I can’t do this” is not a failure, it is a sign of strength and confidence. What I was doing before was accepting every task given to me, no matter how unreasonable, because I had to prove that I was the best. That is a form of insecurity and weakness. Learning to say No is hard, especially when everyone thinks you are the good old dependable “always says yes” person - but you are not thought any more highly of for it - almost the opposite.

GPs are not specialists. They are called General practitioners for a reason. So if ever I think my GP is not giving me the right diagnosis or treatment again, I will ask to see a specialist. Both the social security doctor and the official doctor in Dijon told me this. I will learn. I had too much faith and swallowed everything given to me both literally and metaphorically - no more.

Time given to one is to be used. When I came out of my drug-induced zombie stage, I taught myself to make clothes. I had the time. When I go back to work, if I have time on my hands I will go down into town and see an exhibition or visit an art gallery, not sit in the Teachers’ Room twiddling my thumbs.

Work and home life are different and both valuable but they will be kept separate. Now, when I close the office door behind me, the work will stay shut in there. No more spending whole weekends doing lesson plans or research. No more being too tired to appreciate the countryside around me, or go out with the dogs.

Being at home all this time has made me really go deeper into the beautiful place where I live, get to know the plants, flowers, animals and birds here. That will be the spur for me to not get too caught up in my work. I still want to come home to commune with the Spirit of the Land - it is through that I re-charge my spiritual batteries.

Thus have I learned.

posted by stitchwitch on Jun 2

I only ask because I have been away. I abandoned the Old Feller and the hounds for a fortnight to go and visit my wonderful and mad Aunt M in Scotland for the first week and then flew south to see the Dalai Lama in London and stay with my stepson and his girlfriend.

Going back to Scotland was fantastic. It is always good to go home to the family and Aunt M always organises fascinating trips out - talks, tours, walks, you name it. This time we had a guided tour around Glasgow Green which is gigantic park. The two guides were really up on the history of the place and two hours shot by. They do it voluntarily and wouldn’t even take a tip. So we wrote very enthusiastic letters to their boss in the hope they’d get a pay rise.

The Dalai Lama was spell-binding. I have never before been in front of a human being who radiates good will. He is a remarkably plain and simple person - his message is easy to understand, he didn’t mention China apart from once and he giggles a lot. I could have stayed there all day, as could the other two thousand people in the Albert Hall.

But it is good to be home. I love going visiting. I adore my Aunt M and the rest of my family but I miss my little village under the mountains, my dogs, my garden …. and sometimes the Old Feller!

Himself having been taken up yet again with helping out with neighbours, the garden had gone rampant. So as soon as I was unpacked and rested and the rain had stopped (took a while) I got out and did some very hard work on large concrete tubs. Planted some more summer flower seeds - we are going to have a brilliant show this year.

The wild rose hedge we planted three years ago has finally come into its own and is making a superb display. The cultivated roses seem to be spurred on to compete because they too are flowering fit to bust … or maybe it is just the immense amount of rain and warmth we have had.