We are preparing to go back to the UK again, packing up the clothes we never wore but leaving the books that we have read (Me- The Children's Book by A S Byatt: interesting idea, very literary, started slowly, got very gripping in the middle and then slowed down again towards the end, generally I enjoyed it; A change in altitude by Anita Shreve: enjoyable, ripped through it and was absorbed, but I know I will forget what it was about very quickly; Noah's Compass by Anne Tyler; bit the same really, love both Shreve and Tyler and always read their new books but would struggle to tell you what any were about after about 6 weeks; that's probably more down to my psyche than their skill however. We are now filling this house with books and running out of space just as we have in home no 1.
I always hate to leave, it's something about the peace here that we can't reproduce in Birmingham, even if we leave the telly locked away upstairs and sally forth into the countryside as often as we can. Of course this time, as we did last time, we are packing our elephant to travel with us and wondering when next we will return.
I plan to attempt a return between chemo refills but am not sure if I will feel up to the journey. In Spring the wild flowers come out including the orchids, that we now know how to identify as an orchid expert came to stay in the hamlet a couple of years ago, so we will definitely try to make it over in April if not before.
But taking each day at a time, yesterday we had wild boar with notre famille francais, hunted on their own land but not by them, fantastic it was, as was the gooey cheese and the melt-in-the mouth lemon tart (two slices!). Tomorrow night we stop off just south of Paris in a chateau and have our last pre-chemo treat. It's a good life and one I am anxious not to leave before I am good and ready.