Correction, I am finding it quite a challenge not to feel guilty, as I relax into life here in Brittany. Even after fourteen months of being back. Even with health issues. Even when I should be eligible for a retirement pension, had the Tory govt not shafted me.
Let's not think about the last two.
So, I am here, living in my own home, in a small, supportive community of French and English people, and I am surrounded by lush green countryside, and there are beautiful beaches a mere 45 mins drive away.
Have I talked already about Trégasel?
And I am working as a freelance proofreader and teacher of English and French, although I have yet to start providing English lessons. I have improved one student's knowledge of French and, most importantly, passed on some of my enthusiasm for learning second, third and even, as is my plan, fourth languages.
So no corporate cage for me now. Been there, done that, got the cancer.
And although I have a few issues with my roof - that wind from the west that brings Atlantic storms has always been troublesome - and even though people sometimes misbehave and cause trouble, yes, even those old enough to know better, especially those old enough to know better.
For goodness sake, live and let live!
And it is summer and the living is easy and we have not endured the heatwaves that have struck much of Europe, neither have we had long periods without rain, this is Brittany, we simply refuse to go for long periods without getting wet, and so the garden is growing nicely...
Especially the brambles and nettles and dandelions...
And I am able to eat fresh food from my garden daily: French beans, tomatoes, peppers, aubergines, courgettes, red cabbage, lettuces, raspberries, strawberries, and not fogetting the broccoli that I am happily sharing with a convoy of caterpillars who have taken up residence and are munching through the leaves leaving me the florets for my suppers. I discovered that if I cut a floret and leave the plant it grows three more to replace it...
I never knew that.
My modest little potager has been prolific this summer. I am even being talked about round the village because I have grown a great many tomatoes outdoors. In the open air. Without chemicals. Without a greenhouse. Such talk could soon lead to my being considered a witch...
Won't be the first time.
And yet, this relaxing and being able to do as much, or as little, as I please, with no-one to whom I must be accountable, with no-one making demands on my time, with no-one harbouring any expectations of me...
It takes some getting used to.
