On holiday

639

I am trying to catch up, but really am getting no where.
I did a marvellous job of getting very sunburned a couple of days ago and had to take a break from the beach which did, in fact, prove to be very relaxing. Odd, that.

The ghost laying has been gong well. Friends came and we did wonderful clearing ceremonies whilst having very wonderful etheric moments. More of that later. I am not entirely on top of it all yet and loathe speaking too soon.

Otherwise life without my wonderful au pair is full on Mummy all the time. Daddy plays his part, too. Don’t think for a moment that the Universe graced me with being a perfect Mother. It did not. I want to lie around reading fab books and be left alone for a month. But life is not like that and I am working like a dog, gracefully. Three meals a day, washing up, and looking forward to Monday when the home help returns for a two hour stint on Monday. Oh, how I miss the dishwasher.

I have long hours awake at night here. I dno’t know why, but it is a perfect time to meditate. I do lying down mantra. Hours of it. It is strangely refreshing. So my lack of yoga is balanced by the hours of night time mantra listening to the strange sounds of darkness in the South of France.

I have been for a couple of runs. OMG! The breath is so painful. It must be the dry heat. I start the first few minutes feeling like my lungs are on fire. It has taken all my positive energy to keep going. But I do, despite the football team roaring past in all their sweaty glory leaving me looking slow and graceless. Frankly, I don’t care. I do it for me and I love it.