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| My rugby shoes are on fire! |
Three touches. That's three left for a try. We need to score. I wish I could score for a change. Simon touches an Italian player. They start running backwards. Mathew throws himself between the lines and breaks them. He keeps running. I start running after him hoping the Italians won't catch up with us. We are reaching the line. Mat throws the ball at me and I crush it on the ground. Score!
February:
London in winter. Pedestrian hurrying from a door to another. Happy to leave the cold outside and enjoy the warmth of a pub. The big screens are out. It's the Six nations. At the end of the tournament, the Welsh are ecstatic. The French, bringing home the wooden spoon, are not. Italy is 4th in front of Ireland and France, that's something.
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| The devise I wore 3 months to keep my jaw in place |
They broke my jaw. They broke my jaw and now my guinea pigs are laughing at me. "Look at her cheeks" they say, "she's one of us now" would say Mitsu. "Like her stupid laugh wasn't enough" would add Tira.
I try to recognise myself in the mirror but I can't. The bandages I wear all around my swollen face make me look like an Easter egg. It doesn't hurt but I feel down. I wish I could hear reassuring words but there is no one here to tell me I'm beautiful. Only my mum and that's probably worst.
April:
"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit". The priest has just poured the water over the little boy's head. His blue eyes are piercing through the church's roof. We come out, say hello to a few late people and head to the beautiful mansion for tea. Children are playing around, some angels, some evils. My oldest friends are standing, talking, walking, drinking. I feel good around them. I worry for some of them, sometimes. The little boy finally goes to bed. It's already late on the clock and still so early in his life.
May:
Back in the game! The surgeon gave me the green light to play the tournament. After few months without exercising I'm not a great asset to the team but it's good to be back. I make up at the 3rd half. We win, we celebrate. Chairs are banging, drinks are flooding, songs are sung loudly and badly. We are winning the party.
June:
Happy birthday me. I fly to Brittany. The land of our enemies and some of my best friends. I am a godmother again. Sea, sex and sun.
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| Brittany - Baie de St Malo. |
Oh Normandy, you are my home country
In Normandy, we are very apple friendly
People are so jolly, we never feel chilly
I always feel comfy in the warmth of my family
Everybody loves Normandy, it's the place to be happy
August:
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| Boat on the Riviera |
September:
Satuday morning/ Afternoon: *excited* E la nave va. Week-end on the boat, yeeeaaahh! I love boats. Sea sick? No worries I never get sea sick!
Evening: *brainless* oups I forgot I do get migraines...well, that's was fun being alone on the top desk while the other are having fun inside...
Night: *zombie* it pours! Why is my pillow turning into a washing mitt? (I'm so out I don't realise the window over my head is not fully closed)
Morning/ Afternoon : *doutbfull* It's so windy, I still feel rough from last night. Will I survive this?
Evening: *confused* I'm off the boat, why do I still feel like I'm on the boat?
Monday: *masochist* Colleague "Did you have a good time on the boat?" Me "I did, I love boats!!"
Octobre:
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| My horse mate |
Once I can feel my bottom again, I sit in a plane and fly off to Stratford Upon Avon. Lovely to walk on Shakespeare's steps. Well his and his wife's, daughter's, son in law's, cousin's, the plumber's, the wife of the plumber's cousin. Hold on, whose house is that again? Has Shakespeare actually been here?
Bye bye rainy London, hello sunny Madrid (I know it's easy but so true...). It looks like the Spanish government has employed my friend in a plot to kill the French visitor by overfeeding them. You thought it couldn't be done? Well it can, and it was!
Novembre:
I knew going out with an Irish and a Kiwi would be dangerous. I'm hangover and tired. Sitting in a plane to Sydney. Oh Australia, so beautiful, so surprising and your inhabitants, so helpful and friendly.
The blue moutains, Uluru, Alice Springs, Cairns, the great barrier, the rain forest, the lava tubes, Gold Coast, Byron bay, Brisbane, Surfer's paradise, Sydney. What a trip!
I'll tell you more "soon".
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| Moreton Island |
December:
Australians really understand how to live. I want to relax and simply enjoy the ride, forever.
But I won't live here. For better and worst I am European and couldn't live anywhere else. It's time to go home.
A stop by the South of France just to be remembered that it will be never be my home but that's fine, I've just been told that I'm moving back to the UK. Hop in a train for a cold Christmas in Normandy. Do you want another beautiful poem about it?
