Hi, I think I need to introduce myself again after the length of time I’ve been away.
My name is Michelle. In the past, I’ve been a writer, factory worker, business owner and lots more that I won’t mention until it becomes relevant.
Last year, I had a boat-load of adventures and challenges to get through. The main one – cancer – is now in my past, although the after-effects of the life-altering surgery will stay with me forever.
The field across the road from the house
I don’t want to dwell on the challenges of going through treatment, but it is a story I need to tell. Into my stories on Hive, I’ve decided to inject the humour and resilience I drew upon in order to get through it all.
First, a little background.
I have been with my husband for more than half my life and he has been a massive support to me in everything I’ve done since we met.
A few years ago, I met up with one of my old schoolfriends and reignited my passion for horses.
Read the original
I began to suffer with health problems around 2015/16 and began to write more. The horses helped with my mental health, and I suddenly had a purpose – I had to go out to take care of them every day and it helped me immensely.
Carneddau Goran - little wild pony from Snowdonia
Nimbus - 'Gypsy pony' unusual colouring (Blue Piebald)
Onyx - my riding pony
We decided that our best move forward was to buy our own land – with or without a house – and we started looking at properties in the UK. Believe me, there are not many ‘good’ equestrian properties within a reasonable price range, not even in Wales and the more remote parts of the UK.
In September 2020 I was chatting with another ‘horsey’ friend and she suggested I look at buying land in France.
French-based estate agents asked, ‘Where in France do you wish to live?’ Our reply was always – ‘France!’ Not concerned where, we just wanted a property with land. Then our priorities changed a little. Instead of looking at properties in need of renovation, we upped the ante and decided to look at ready-to-move-into places.
By October, we had found a few for our online shortlist and slowly discounted them – one was beautiful, but placed right next to a sewage works… moving on! Some of the places were already sold – by hours in some cases – and it became tedious. Sometimes we’d see a place and get no response from the agent or owner. Looking every day became a habit.
We were so confident we'd get a place, that I researched dog breeds and bought a new puppy.
Tora - Belgian Malinois
Then we found it! The perfect place! Online negotiations took place – it felt like a high-stakes game of Chinese Whispers. We’d speak to the Estate Agent, he’d go back to the owners and tell them what we’d said, then they would respond, and he’d bring their reply back to us. It was frustrating and long-winded and the anxiety that someone else would beat us to it (again) was palpable.
We were also in the middle of an unprecedented global pandemic and the restrictions on travel meant that we had to agree to buy the property without even visiting it first. We had a live online video tour but we knew it was the place for us.
Agreeing to purchase on condition of first-hand viewing at the earliest opportunity, we made plans to visit France. Our friends said they would put us up for the few days we were there, and we booked the first ferry out of England on the first day that restrictions lifted – my birthday!
There were no more than 8 other private vehicles on that ferry, and we tried to relax on the 4-hour crossing.
The journey to our friends’ house took longer than we anticipated. The weather was bad, we weren’t used to driving in heavy rain with no lights along the roads. We needed fuel and just managed to get to a fuel station before it closed for the night. We took a wrong turn and ended up confusing the Sat-nav, delaying us by 30-45 mins at least.
Finally, we made it to our destination, but which house was it? The roads had been deserted for at least an hour, due to France’s curfew and we certainly didn’t want to knock at the wrong door to be greeted by a Frenchman wielding a shotgun against perceived trespassers. Just phoning our friends wasn’t as easy as it sounds, either. The phone system is certainly hit and miss in rural France, and we weren’t certain they’d receive the call.
Fortunately, they did, and we were greeted at the door.
We were treated to a delicious cottage pie – made even more special because our friends are vegetarian, and they made a meat-based meal just for us!
We travelled to the property to meet the estate agent and check it out. Mainly to see that it was as we believed. We explored for just 90 minutes before confirming what we’d already decided. We were going to buy that house!
The house on the Estate Agent's site
We had a few days with our friends before coming back to the UK. Then the hard work began.
I didn’t realise, but my health, strength and stamina were all starting to reduce. I was becoming more tired, easily wearied and needed more help with every-day tasks. Luckily, the horses were fine, we had a new horse and their owner arrive, so technically, the workload could be shared. I was also starting to look after my grandchildren as school and childcare was difficult during the lockdowns.
My husband was so fortunate in the fact that his work made sure their staff was safe during the pandemic and he worked from home for the vast majority of the time.
On my husband’s birthday in January, we paid the deposit for the house. Then we had to wait through tense and trying times as SAFER – an organisation in France, a non-profit company that oversees the sale of farm land, making sure that local farmers have the first-refusal on land that is sold, to establish more productive agriculture, to protect the environment, landscape and natural resources – which means that if a farmer wanted the land we were trying to purchase, he would be able to buy it rather than us. We would have received our money back, of course, but we’d have lost the property because the main reason for buying it was the land.
Finally, the word came back that the house was ours and all we had to do was pay for it! There’s another problem, of course – getting to France in the middle of another lockdown to sign documents and receive keys etc. Snail-mail to the rescue! All documents had to be sent and received via registered post and you know how long that takes! Then, the added issue of proving where the money for the purchase came from, getting the money changed into Euros and sent over, etc, etc – ad infinitum.
Barn - Estate Agent's site
By March, my health was getting worse. I had a worrying time when I discovered blood in the toilet. I brushed it off as ‘one of those things.’ To begin with, I put it down to a possible reaction to avocados. I gave it a few days to clear up, but it didn’t. I wasn’t in any pain, but there was still blood every time I went to the toilet. I spoke to my daughter. She’s no expert but has lived with an exceptionally debilitating disease for a number of years and she told me to go to the doctor.
I listened. I made a phone call to the doctor’s triage nurse (no in-person visits at that time). The triage nurse arranged a call from my doctor who, to be on the safe side, recommended that I come in. I was given options of an appointment the next day (it was a little inconvenient and I ummed and ahhed) or a few days hence. I finally gave my head a shake and opted for the inconvenient earlier appointment.
I went to the appointment, masked up, rang the buzzer and waited. It’s scary to do things on your own, sometimes, but needs must when the devil drives (no, I don’t know where that phrase comes from, I’ll look it up later).
I chatted with my doctor and we both believed I could be suffering with the same disease my daughter has.
She examined me.
I remember saying, “You haven’t even bought me dinner…” just as she started the rectal examination and she laughed at the joke.
She found something that wasn’t quite right but wasn’t overly worried. Again, just to be on the safe side, my doctor said she’d send me for tests. She explained that the colonoscopy could be uncomfortable, but I’d have the option of anaesthetic. Scans, MRIs etc would all be requested, and I’d get the information for them all in the post. I wasn’t to worry; we’d get to the bottom of things soon enough.
Given the examination she’d just performed on my bottom, I said, “I see what you did there.” And she was gracious enough to realise my go-to defence mechanism is humour and she laughed again.
Sorry… getting tired now. I’ll finish this later.
