[null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, {"document_url": "https://moisfrenchadventure.com/", "unformatted_src": "https://cdn.images.dailystar.co.uk/dynamic/1/photos/311000/45311.jpg", "src": "https://cdn.images.dailystar.co.uk/dynamic/1/photos/311000/45311.jpg", "alt_text": "Image result for pictures of french rats"}, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null]
a house is.not a home, adventures, bittersweet, edwardian, houses by the sea, interior design, lobe, Love, Reflections, repleshing your soul, what makes a home Three years ago yesterday i moved out of my beautiful house, by the sea, to start this adventure. I loved this house, have always said it was the most beautiful house I would ever have the privilege  to live in. Edwardian, with so many original features…. I had put my heart and soul into it, worked so hard on it renovating and decorating and making it into our home. We were so rushed when it came to moving day I do not even remember closing the door for the last time, but I do remember sitting in the pub that night with tears rolling down my face. When my book comes out you will understand why the house,  for Rich (and now, as time has gone by I realise  for me also),  had become contaminated; it could never be the home we thought it would be; and as three years have passed I have come to realise that.

So then we found our house on the pinnacle of the rolling hills that are Ambrieres les Vallees, and we fell in love. For me it was bittersweet, it was not the house I had left, it was not the house that had taken part of my soul. But over the three years, despite the well running dry, the crappy cesspit (literally, all over the cellar floor sometimes!!) and the mold on the walls; it has shown me this ……. I sit in my bedrom and I look out at this my favorite tree and I feel at peace And over the years I have realised that a home is about love, companionship, laughter, and tears; it is not the house, it is the people in it. I look at my husband, and he is happier here. I know neither of us could go back to a house where you could reach out and touch your neighbour, surrounded by people and noise. We are too used to the peacefulness that surrounds us; and I have finally come to realise that I do not miss my old home, it was ONE of the most beautiful houses I lived in; but this is the most beautiful home. It has not taken my soul it has replenished it. A chair is still a chair, even when there’s no one sittin’ there
But a chair is not a house and a house is not a home
When there’s no one there to hold you tight
And no one there you can kiss goodnight

The late great Luther Vandross..

Have a good Sunday folks.






Barn owls, Chicken Hilton, Chickens, Dogs, hunting dogs, Nature, Night time feasts, owls, pygmy owls, Rats, Rats and chickens, Rural living, Serial Killer, Tawny owls, Welsh Terriers, Welshies They do say that you are never more than six feet away from a rat no matter where you are in the world. How accurate this is I don’t know, but I do know that it would have been naive of us not to think that rats may visit our garden, especially because we had chickens.

On the first night we moved into the house Harley was going mad at something in the garden. The house had not been lived in for three years, and the garden had been occupied by three goats (hence the name for the goat’s shed) and anything else that chose to live here! We only had Harley at that time, we moved here in August and Wiglet, aka the serial killer, did not come to live with us until the October. Had she been here then what Rich discovered would not have lived to see another day, but as it was only Harley the huge rat that Rich found when he went out to get Harley by torchlight, managed to get away. Although we did not see a sight of it after that, the following year Wiglet came bouncing down the garden so happy with a huge, dead rat in her mouth. “Thanks for that!” I said!

Over the years we did not see any more rats because our dogs are hunters and, especially when the serial killer moved in, the rats were deterred. But where there are chickens there are normally rats and after putting too many left overs in their enclosure in April we believe that a whole family moved in. We thought that we might have a problem after the chickens appeared to have stopped laying, and it appears that rats will steal the eggs and attack the chickens. They knew that they were safe from Wiglet (aka serial killer) because she could not get in the enclosure, although at times she would go mad trying to get in there, and she would also spend hours staring at something hiding in the twigs from the trees we had cut down, with her little tail wagging as if to say “I am so pleased to see you, come and play little rat!” She has dug holes all over our garden trying to flush them out and we planned, after we moved the chickens of course, to let her into the old Chicken Hilton and have a field day.

Over the summer Rich had seen the rats, I never had because I normally have the dogs in tow, but he said that they were getting more and more blase, and would  come out into the chicken enclosure in daylight. One day he counted seven going back into the Hilton tail to tail because (you guessed it!) Wiglet had come out to play. So we hatched our plan: we were going to put the chickens somewhere safe and let Wiglet have a day in the henhouse catching rats. For her it would be like a day at Disney!

I told you she is the most beautiful loving, vulnerable little dog but her mother and father were hunting stock and she is a born and bred hunter! But, as is life’s way  nature beat us to it…

As I lay in bed one night with Rich snoring beside me, I could hear the hooting of a Tawny owl (probably the one that loves to sit in our cherry tree and look at us.); I have explained in previous blogs that one of the beauties of living out here is the owls that you just see every day (you may want to visit my post: what is is about you and owls!) There are Tawny owls, Barn owls and the cute little Pygmy owls that come out in the day.. In addition I could also hear a lot of screeching! Husband will sleep through anything but I lay there knowing that the rats were getting their come-uppance! Our cats had also been very interested in the chicken enclosure and I imagined them sitting on the stumps of the trees with a glass of wine watching the entertainement!

Over the next few nights as we lay in bed we could hear Barn owls, and their babies and a lot of screeching, and squealing, coming from the garden and I knew that the rats had become too blasé, and the owls had spread the word and were now having a a feast.

Gradually we saw less and less of the rats, any food that the chickens had not eaten remained uneaten (although we have drastically reduced the scraps that they have.) Over the past few weeks we have seen no rats at all, although their warren of holes are still evident as Wiglet digs them up! One day Harley did spend an age staring into a hole wagging his tail in greeting, but it was a false greeting because that rat would not have lived to see another day.

So nature took over, the owls killed the rats, as they were meant to do, and I lay in bed listening to the life that goes on outside when you live in rural France.

I know that as the trees that we chopped down gradually get cut into logs, and I turn the twigs into kindling, the rats will have nowhere to hide, and if there are any about trust me Wiglet will have her day!

There is no going back to the Chicken Hilton for them because the dogs are now in there all the time. It may only be a matter of time before I am back in a scene from ‘Whatever happened to Baby Jane’ and Wiglet presents me with another dead rat. Good! In addition Rich found a cache of hidden chicken eggs under the hay in the old suite of the Chicken Hilton that was once occupied by the chickens; the poor chicken was laying and was hiding them from the dreaded rats! The fact that they had not been eaten is also evidence that the rats have been scared off – straight into the jaws of Wiglet!

It’s all part of the adventure folks! 



Chicken Hilton, Chicken houses, chicken keeping, Chickens, Dogs, Moving on, Naught Welshies, Rats, Rural living, Welsh Terrier, Welshies As some of you know eighteen months ago we bought six chickens (the girlies) and Claude the Cockerel home to live with us. They needed re-homing and for six months they were all really happy. Sadly in the October one of the girlies died and in the spring we believed that we may have rats as the girls stopped laying eggs and some became eggbound, and despite our best efforts another three died. We were left with just two girlies and Claudy boy. As some of you may know (See a murder in the hen house) one of the chickens was killed by the serial killer  of all things small known as Wiglet… I know! How can you not love her? But last month she murdered one of the last remaining girlies, and almost killed Claude, but the boy lived to see another day, so then we were down to two chickens.

As you can see the chickens had a massive enclosure that took up a large part of our garden and they also had half of the old goats shed as their home – it was huge, and poor hubby was trying to squash his many garden acoutriments into one half of the shed whilst two chickens chose where to sleep each night because they had so much room! It just didn’t make sense, and at times Claude and his girly just looked lost. So this weekend Hubby set about making them their own retirement home – we thought that the remaining girly was too old to lay eggs but we were wrong (and that will be my next story). So, as you do, on a limited budget, you make use of what you have. Off Hubby went oo his barn and found out some old wood we had ripped out of our kitchen and an old bathroom cupboard we had in our bathroom (no surprises there!) which had legs on it and set about making the chickens a new pied a terre.

Firstly he had to make them safe from said serial killer so he shut the chickens in the Chicken Hilton whilst he built there new enclosure. But Wiglet the Serial Killer leave it? No  would not leave them alone and kept digging to try and get into them! After numerous attempts by hubby to block the door: He locked it, put wire inside it, wire outside of it, put a piece of corrugated iron against it, followed by an old door, all whilst he was trying to get on, he gave up and he caught the serial killer, who is a little bugger, and locked her in the newly built enclosure; so he could get on and build the chickens new house. It was a big job to take the old enclosure down as to stop said killer getting to the chickens when they first arrived we had  put huge pine logs against the double fencing, and they had to be moved.. Along with the fact that the grass had grown through the fencing, effectively pinning the wire to the floor. (She still got through in the end though! Took her seventeen months but she found a weak spot!) Hubby did good though and in the end the chickens downsized, as you tend to do when you get older, and moved into a pretty little beach style cottage, placed in the sunshine, with a little plank up into it (easy access for when you get older) and some lovely new hay. It is fair to say that they are as happy as happy can be in their new home.

We did make a discovery though, the poor girl had not stopped laying, we found broken eggshells in the Chicken Hilton and five eggs that she had hidden under the straw – all an indication of rats!

And that is another story from our adventures of living in rural France!

Have a wonderful weekend folks – remember this is the sequel to the prequel so keep reading in to have hope that things can get better

– makingthisbetter.com

Thanks for all your support and please share my posts and comment when you can, I love the interaction.



 I know we’re mad! But helps in life sometimes! 


Have a food day folks, enjoy the small things. 

Makingthisbetter.com my new blog




Officially one of the longest serving puppies Dylan's Welshie World Back at puppy class after a weeks break and Dylan was raring to go. Watch out world!

After all it’s only ten days until the Bronze Good Citizen test. Or is it?

Boo was missing tonight – seems she’s has started her second season and will miss the test. But Mollie the Cavapoo was back with a bang and bouncing around.

There was a new addition to class – Binks, a gorgeous Chocolate Spaniel, who of course took an instant shine to Dylan. Don’t they all!

Aslan, the Leonberger looked most put out!

The trainer was in no mood for such puppy shenanigans though. It was straight down to business. And that business was practising sit and stay.

None of the puppies could sit and stay for the required minute.

Hell Dylan didn’t even sit. Hell Dylan didn’t even acknowledge me. Hell Dylan was bouncing around like Tigger.

Finally she…

View original post 562 more words





autumn, Being blessed, Blowing away the cobwebs, Clarity, Clearing the cobwebs, Clearning the mind, Confusion, Godsend, mental health awareness, Reflections, Swaying in the wind, The tree of Tao, Trees For mental Health Week in England I thought that I would share with you one of the things I have always found therapeutic and that  I especially love about living here – The Wind.

As a lot of you know our garden is full of trees, we have at least four Oak trees, a big old sycamore, two Silver Birch, some pine trees, our gigantic Walnut tree, Cob nut bushes, cherry trees and never least what I call my tree of Tao. I have said many times how I love to watch this blow and sway in the wind, almost as if it is reaching out to me and saying believe me everything will be allright.

Today is one of those sunny, blustery Autumn days that reminds me of why I love this season so much. I felt the need to clear my mind and sat in the garden with the trees blowing around me as I read my passage for the day from the Tao. As always as the wind blew through my hair it was as if it was blowing out the cobwebs and confusion and clearing the way for me to reflect and see clearly. Add to that the leaves swirling in the wind as if my thoughts had materialised and were being blown away, no longer required, discarded, and I knew that I had done the right thing, to sit in the garden and let nature show me the way. I bring this up on Mental Health Awareness week because the ability to reflect is very important to me, and sometimes very painful. But reflect I must because I know that it is the only way that I can learn and grow.

So if you are feeling anxious, down, or confused in some way – You know what I mean- when there is something on your mind but you just cannot put your finger on it – then just go out in the wind and sit somewhere away from others and let it clear you mind for you.

I am blessed I only have to step out of the front door…. Have a good weekend folks, enjoy the Autumn, whatever the weather. 

A big thank you to you all for your fantastic support.

Have a good weekend, and remember go with the flow… 


Times they are a changing. Bob Dylan Who knows what is coming next – autumn…….. 

Thank again 



books, bravery, Inspiration, new beginning, new blogs, non judgmental I took your advice my new blog is set up, it may go a long way to explaining why Rich and I are so ‘resilient’ as we were told the other day!

I am out of practice setting up blogs – it’s been three years – but I hope that you approve of it’s design, and that it helps others. It is what it has all been about.

I will keep you in suspense no longer it is called ‘making this better’ @makingthisbetter.com; it had three followers already, and over twenty views and has only been open just over an hour!!

What I will say is that this blog is not about judging  – if it wasn’t for my husband’s bravery we would not be here today.

As my son said to me ‘Mum! You are not an easy person to come back to!’

Never a truer word was said!!





Oh no! The puppy class trainer is a broken woman! But ai can vouch for Dylan (Miss Mooddiebag’s naughtinees agter I found my chewed up shoes in the garden) … After tonight, I think our poor trainer has finally admitted defeat!

And strangely it wasn’t just down to Dylan- though of course, the little monster did pull quite a few moves out of the bag! Literally!

Following last week when we were told Dylan wasn’t ready to take her Bronze Good Citizen, the trainer had a change of heart and this week told us we would be taking the test after all!

Yay go us!

Though I have a sneaking suspicion it’s more that she’s hoping against hope we pull it off and move to the next class – and a new trainer.

As usual Dylan did her meet and greet and was most displeased that she got stopped before she’d had a chance to jump on every puppy in the room – most notably her favourite Aslan the Leonberger who was back this week.

The trainer wasn’t hanging about…

View original post 828 more words



