|Thankful for our moules frites|
Day twenty-eight, Thursday 26th November 2020
Happy Thanksgiving to all of you celebrating today, even if your normal plans are out the window this year. I’m not American, have never celebrated Thanksgiving, or even eaten pumpkin pie, and it’s only thanks to blogs and social media that I’ve come to understand it a bit more. I think this year, more than any, we have a lot to be thankful for, even those of us whose families have lost loved ones. We won’t be tucking into a roast turkey and all the trimmings tonight, but we will certainly take a moment over our moules frites to give thanks for the good things in our life this year.
I’m certainly thankful of having the bikes, the fitness and good health to be able to ride them, and the time available to get out on them. They have made such a difference to our lives this year and I can't imagine how we would have got through the last eight months without them. Not only have they given us access to the great outdoors and a way to exercise in the fresh air, they have also given us a focus and the means to set ourselves challenges too. Whether it’s been local rides with Ed and Pearl, restaurant rides with our friends, or holidays just the two of us further afield, we’ve certainly made some great memories. We lost our nephew Ben to suicide during the first lockdown and I’ve found there was something quite healing about pushing myself on the bike, as I climbed mountains I never realised I was capable of. When all I could hear was my breathing and I could feel my heart pounding, it reminded me how precious life and being alive really is.
|The stunning scenery of the Pyrenees|
Being surrounded by beautiful mountain scenery as I climbed was pretty special too.
|Thankful for great friends|
I’m also thankful for the friends I’ve made here in France. The ones who are there no matter what the problem, the ones who’ve cycled with us, the ones I’ve sung my heart out alongside (usually after a wine or two) and the ones who have taken the time to help me improve my French. My eighty-year-old neighbour Pierrette certainly falls into the latter category, even if things are running a bit late here today thanks to a lengthy, gossipy phone call with her. It’s not quite the same as our early natters on Sunday mornings as we strolled to the boulangerie together pre-Covid-19, but it’s better than nothing.
I know it has been a tough year in many ways for a lot of people, but I hope you can think of something that you are thankful for too.