I want to go to France

I'm kind of thinking that I'd like to go to France again. I've been twice. The first time we stayed with my brother & his partner in a big old farmhouse in the Vendee. We had a very nice time, once we worked out that the plastic animals that kept mysteriously appearing in the garden were left by the neighbour's dog & not by an anglophilic serial killer. (There was this really funny moment when P crept up with the camera to photograph a lizard only to find it was plastic). We did some serious eating cos of course the food is the very best thing about France. Just thinking of the patisserie is making my mouth water. And there were some wonderful clothes shops.
However on the holiday I couldn't seem to keep up with the others & sometimes would sleep in the car while they went for walks & stayed at the bottom while they went up a high tower. On the ferry home I started to feel ill with 'flu. Little did I know that 17 years later I still wouldn't have recovered, that was the start of it all.
Still, it was a good holiday.

The second time P & I went on our own to Brittany. It was when I was getting better from being ill, or so we thought, not knowing I would relapse again. It was also just a couple of months before Mum died. In fact I bought a present for her there & they gift-wrapped it & I've still got it, unopened.

(The other night when I was at this healing service we were singing Mum's favourite song, Majesty, & I had this strange sort of feeling that God was saying 'It's alright she's safe with me, just leave her with me now.')

Anyway, that too was a good holiday, we found a nice quiet little beach where I swam, well just sat really, in the sea & we had a day-trip to the Ile de Bas & the farmhouse owners were really friendly & invited us round for Breton cake & apple liqueur that blew your head off & I still fantasise about the cous-cous restaurant.

And of course there was the cider museum as well. Perhaps it would be better to forget that. What happened was we looked round, all very interesting then at the end they gave you little cups of samples to try. The lady was very generous, as soon as you'd finished one she was urging you to try another. Trouble was P was driving so he kept taking a tiny sip then tipping his into mine which I quickly drank to go on to the next, just to be polite & not offend this lady. All very nice, we finished, were making a few purchases at the counter & chatting to a young German couple on honeymoon. Then the room started to spin round. The German couple watched open-mouthed as P helped me stagger to the car where I crashed out & slept for the next hour.

This, I hasten to add, is an isolated incident in my life. In fact I hardly ever drink alcohol.