what does it mean?

So I am a little freaked. I have a 17% lack in lung capacity. I have no idea what the implications of that are.

Diminished Capacity

No sooner had I written my previous post than I put my back out again, but in a different spot. I was sitting eating, a bit stressed out, and my back started to cramp. 1 hour later I was doubled over and could hardly move. I managed to make it to the car and the drive home was full of cussing at every gear change.
The chiropractor came the next day and snapped me a few times, so I could eventually straighten up.
We went camping finally after the little one had been running a huge fever. The fever broke she visited the doc who gave us the go ahead. I spent my time throwing boy in the air instead of doing any meaningful workout. My back was feeling better.
This week I cycled to and from work and while I was faster than last time the climb home killed me. I had been feeling pretty low on energy since we came from camping. I couldn't figure out why the fatigue. I finally left monaco at 8pm in the evening getting home about 940pm shattered.
I left Monaco late as I had to visit my allergolog. He has told me now I have a diminished lung capacity. This explains a lot, an awful lot. Possibly the fatigue too. I am waiting today to find out how dimished. I am still tired. The new inhaler takes a bit of getting used to.
Oh and here is the bike route Go tap the elevation button when it loads it looks like fun

Back to Sport

I have the all clear from the doc. This is really good news.
There is a marathon in November I was aiming for last year, I thought I might have time to do it this year, if I am not ready I am not ready, but it's a little difficult to motivate myself when I don't have a target.

I am not in a rush, but I don't want to be kidding myself either by going too easy. My Training totals are not great for these last two months but I know I am making progress. Yesterday I hit 700meters in the pool which is pleasing. May 2008 I was swimming a Kilometer a pop 4 days a week in the pool so I have some ways to go.
Today I have a 50KM cycle planned between Nice and Antibes at 730 in the evening, it's a social thing and 40k will be easy enough,as it's comletely flat, the first 5k will be a piece of piss, as it's downhill, that makes the last 5km which will be a new distance for me a bit of a challenge.

I make sure I eat enough and drink enough so I don't bonk, the weather here is 28C at 9am so you can imagine the conditions. They are the same type of conditions that would probably exist if I ever get to compete Iron Man France.

I am cycling only once or twice a week at the moment, but once the month of July is over I am have a bit more free time. and can focus a bit more.
I have August Pegged as the month to see my training Organised.
I am at the moment paying attention to fatigue and hunger, I am doing core, and some upper body stuff to gain strength, I have a heart monitor, so they are all steps in the right direction which I didn't have last year. I have improved the diet and make sure to take in much more fuel than I had been.

It only remains to be seen can I keep myself motivated.

Wheels comming off

I am in a Funk. I spent the weekend with my stressometer starting at touching the red zone and finished it with the stressometer blowing right up in my face. It wasn't fun. It is very hard to balance a inner belief system that conflicts with a stress imposed system. Things that normally wouldn't warrant a thought in my system become hugely oppressive when the stress mounts.

Where does it come from this stress and how does one deal with it? That sense of not being heard, or understood. That sense of standing in the middle of the ocean and screaming for assistance while you watch everyone on the beach have a good time and the water pounds down on your head. Everyone around you ignoring you completely. Oblivious to you. You know the one. If you live on this planet you have probably felt it at least once..... or else I belong in the funny farm.

Boy had to go horse riding this Sunday. I was so proud to see him, my 9 year old son, guide a horse through obstacles, make it turn, trot, meander. I don't even know what half of it is called. I was just so proud. He came 10th of 22.
He is much more suited to this than rock climbing. He has more fun, is more sure of himself. Yet as I look back on the day I can see the signs of what was to happen.

It was extremely hot and all the kiddies were out in the sun. He wasn't drinking water. By the time I convinced him gently to come and eat, he was well hungry and thirsty. The day went on and on, he brushed down ponies, cleaned their hooves, attended the prize giving and choose a rosette in the Irish colours.
I well up with emotion when I see him on the horse now, in my minds eye. So proud of my boy.

We get home later than planned, my father in law who I allow stress me out the moment he is in my space was being himself. Jolly, spread all over the place, a little forgetful, no quite understanding the slow panic that was building up. There is no where to sit.

We discovered some missed homework. It was Sunday late. One baby had to bathed and fed, dinner was being prepared the table had to be cleared and a clean cloth put down, the homework should have been done, but we missed it through a misunderstanding, the guitar lesson hadn't been done either and boy still had to have a shower and clean up after the horses.
There was some moaning during the homework, the usual interruptions from NONO not grasping the reality of the situation, not knowing when not to Butt in and when its okay. It's not his fault.

There is no handbook for life. There is no handbook for parenthood either. There is certainly no handbook for little 9 year old boys who are really really tired and don't want their daddy to leave the room when they go to bed. There is no explaination leaflet on what to do when father and son find themselves in a mexican standoff, which has built up over a half an hour of daddy trying to turn out the light because it's bedtime for everyone and son not wanting to be left alone.

Who teaches you what to do when father blows his top so loudly with exasperation that boy is terrified?

Cue the feelings of failure, the feelings of being abandoned, of being a Useless father. Feelings that it has all been a waste of time, that by the time he is an adult he will have nothing to do with me anyway.

There is no map of emotions that you can track when you are crying your eyes out and you stop momentarily to see your father doing the same.

There is thank the gods memories. Memories of the same angst and fear and pain and tiredness, memories of sobbing so hard that my throat hurt, memories of being left alone with it.
They teach me not to leave him alone, but to stay close. They teach me to try again. They teach me to tell him I remember crying like that, making that whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu sound like an ambulance, or fire engine. Maybe he could get a job sitting on one? There is a laugh/sob. I tell him how I cried so hard I forgot what I was crying about, that I remember continuing to cry and not feeling like it and yet still continuing. I tell him we are proper pair of loo lahs and there is more laughter, some more tears from both of us, he wants a kiss from his baby sister, from Lover, from His mother, from His Daddy.

Finally he comes to sleep in our room down beside me on the floor in the cushions and fit mat. We fall asleep holding hands. In the morning we wake hugs and kisses. He is off to school, he mentions I might ring that night which is unusal. I ring. I make damn sure I ring. We are good. He is happy to hear me. I am as usual over the moon to talk to him. I feel cut in half when he is not around me.

Since then my stress has only mounted farther and farther and yet I am exhausted. I need sleep. I need a little change of scene. I need not to let that happen again.

The wheels are turning

I am back in the saddle. Biking , some very light running, swimming.
It doesn't always go as planned. Time is a premium in our lives.
We are not doing anything special, just out of the house 12hours a day.
It doesn't give much time for much else when you have to factor in an evening meal, relaxation, and sleep.
Boy is growing at an incredible rate, his mother is still be uncooperative and rude in front of him.
I find myself getting more and more impatient lately. I don't have time to be going back and forward. I don't see that I should be the decision maker in my couple either, but I am and I have to be, then the arguments start. If I don't make a decision on something then I am constantly asked to do so. So it's a juggling situation.
How does one balance it and not get narkey and under pressure all the time? On top of that people around here don't listen.
Oh look, I am having a rant.

Where are we going?

It's June 6th. Last night I rang Boy. He was in the bathroom so I rang back 20 minutes later. I got curt hello, then a 'could you call me tomorrow I am watching a documentary?'.. .....'Oh! Okay. Is it 'Home'?' 'Yeah', 'Ok, love you lots speak to you tomorrow, the whole world is watching it!' 'Love you too'...

So finished the call between a 9 year old boy and his father. .. . .

Today I have done some weight training, some stretching and once again I am going to try to restart running. I have been doing what's called core excercises for a few days now. Trying to get rid of a beer/wine belly after a year of no excercise is not easy. I took on a few kilos but I am slowly and surely getting back into shape.

I keep thinking I should write a book about all the relationships I had.

The urge to tell stories and write and direct etc; won't go away now. Now I am more relaxed in France even if disenfranchised, I can't vote either here or at home, I am finding my old spirit coming back in.

The only way to look is forward.

From the mouths of Children.

The red twin seater ferrari teased me as I drove past. Myself and boy love looking at them. I told him if I won the lotto I would buy one.
He thought for a moment and then made a sad sound, he told me there was no space for his baby sister.
I was touched.
I told him would could get a spank off big 4*4 just like the one coming towards us on the other side of the road, in fact I would buy a big house with a pool tool.
He then informed me that wouldn't do because I would have to buy his sister and himself presents.
I told him the house the two cars, any I had, would be theirs too. In fact the only thing I have for myself anyway is my bicycle.
He corrected me. He told me that for myself, I also had him and and his sister.
Talk about being humbled by a nine year old.

I am back training again

Time is Trickling

I am not too sure how much longer I will be blogging. Since the baby has been born, things have got very busy life wise. I am still waiting to be divorced. Finances are at an all time low, I am just ignoring the letters the bank sends. There isn't really anything else I can do. Boy now spends his Wednesdays with his Uncle, his free time in his grandmothers house. His mother seems happy to pass him around.
I am still waiting for the war and abuse when she realises there will be no more changing and chopping weekends to suit her and her family. It won't be easy to take that stand but I will have to take it.
Work is usually busy, but like anywhere there are high and low periods. I am in an organisation where the understanding of open communication and team work is at a premium. You can imagine the challenge.
Lover is finding it hard being back at work and not being with the baby. I understand, but there is zero chance of surviving on 1 salary let alone it being my one.
My college education, post grad diploma and various courses in computers are unrecognised here. It's as if I was uneducated. My Salary I am afraid reflects that. Arguing it is like trying to convince a leopard that stripes are better and he really should wear a Zebra coat.
I still have a problem with my lower back/hip, but I have been swimming again for a couple of weeks. I have also started on the bicycle again. It's good, yesterday I got up as far as Aspremont which is a 20km round trip. I start about 190 meters above sea level, go up to 500 meters above sea level and come back again. The trip back takes roughly 25 minutes, the trip up took one hour and ten minutes. Still I love it.
I have put on quite a bit of weight in my non active period. I am trying not to let the frustrations of life get the better of me, to remain zen as it were.
I have goals, questions, desires, and yet; I am feeling or thinking, that nothing I do can make anything change. I am on the road pre determined, or destined, and somehow, life knows what choices I am making before I am even faced with it.
I remember my friend telling me, 'Slowly slowly catchee monkee', I can't for the life of me remember what it is from but I get the gist of it. Slow and calm, no questions, just move forward, slow and calm. Make no haste in the race to become the ultimate you, yet move gently forward, barely rustling the leaves of obstacles so the branches that would hinder you can slowly bend to your path and the forest will open to your desires. Slowly calmly moving forward.

May Day, May Day, but nothing urgent!

As the world economic crisis, grips countries around the globe, strong ripples wave their way through France and Monaco. People are loosing jobs, but not to the same extent as elsewhere. I am hoping this time I will be safe. I have had little time for writing or thinking. Work is constantly busy to make up for the short fall caused by those let go.
I am clearly tired in the evening as is lover. Booboo, our girl is just so smiley though, so we can't complain.
The festival time is starting too in the big wind up to Summer.
The barriers and coloured hoarding are all up in Monaco for the Grand Prix in 3 weeks time. Tourists are arriving already. The schools are out on holidays.
We had a hell of time finding someone to look after girl, but finally found someone awkwardly placed in relation to where we live.
Monday Morning will therefore be a panic, back to school for boy then the other direction for girl, then back to where we came from to reach the motor way...... I am not looking forward to it.
The rain has finally stopped, if it doesn't rain for the month of May we are in for a crazy hot summer.
I am swimming again and we encouraging each other to loose our winter bellys, with some situps, and hip stretches in the evenings. It is isn't easy, but hey there are too many flat bellys around for us to be comfortable on the beach.
There are issues to deal with between us, but I reckon if we feel good about ourselves we can only feel better about each other.
There is loads I could write about, but I am tired of whining about the divorce, which is costing me more and more each time I see my lawyer. It would have already paid for a very nice 2 week holiday in Ireland for the 4 of us.
I hope to get home this year and keep the job :-).
I am having fun reading a lot of blogs and playing video games to deeeeee stress myself, or is unstress, weird, or is it wierd?
Anyhow, things are okay, it's a loooong weekend. Not doing much but socialising today.
Have a happy May.

What colour are the stars?

So today we went for a stroll in the forest. I haven't got the photos downloaded. It's boys birthday.
Boy was with the 'other' family celebrating in the garden, while I decided it was time to get back on my bike in more ways than one.
It's time to get back to school and get a french piece of paper that proves to the world I am intelligent and worth a decent salary.
It could also be time to knuckle down and write. I don't know how many successful writers won their battles with procrastinism but I am sure there were a few. My problem is, that it hasn't been a battle, it's been a full scale war. I will let you know who wins if I am published :-).
I hopped up on the bicycle today and my legs are still jelly. You see I live on a road that has 13-15% gradient. It's steep, and the only way to be sure of getting home is by going up.
I also picked just after eating a plate of pasta with onions and tomatoes as the time to go. Suffice to say I was back in the house after 40 minutes.

I washed up and loaded girl into the car and lover and I and she, set off for the countryside. A sunny hot drive to the wilderness, over populated by a million others with the same idea.

But still it was quiet. It was tranquil. We had a nice walk, we took some nice photos. We chilled out. It's the first time we have been alone in 3 months, outside, with no commitment to anyone else. It was relaxing.

We are soooooooo unfit.

While there we noticed two guys. Lover saw them first. Militaries, she called them. I looked over to see two world war 2 English Helmets peeking above the ground. I looked closer, one had a camera. I assumed there and then it was two guys trying to write a book, taking photos in period costume.
Later we came upon them again and I stole some photos. Eventually one of them spoke up and I thought I should have asked for permission. Actually he offered to let us take more shots.

He was about 18. He told us about the landings at Theoule, Antibes and elsewhere along the coast during the second world war. He wasn't surprised we hadn't heard anything about it. He referred to Normandy and the thousands of books written about it and the various landings during the war.

He explained the Senegalis story that came from Africa to repulse the Nazi's from France and save Europe. I was gobsmacked.

He recounted how sometimes he gets support, sometimes ridiculed, sometimes people think he is mad. I told him they are badly educated. But then so am I. As a child growing up, the war was portrayed simply from the British American point of view. It was only by meeting people from Russia I learned of her huge sacrifices and now today I learn even more about the sacrifices of boys of colour, who believed the hype.

As I sat there talking to this young man, idealistic, I wondered has anything changed in the 60 or so years? Has the world learned anything? Why are the white people still ridiculing the black and using him to fight their wars. Why more profoundly are we whites aligned with those whites, when our history has more in common with the history of the black man than of any white man outside the shores of my homeland.

I have moved on. I don't truly at this moment identify myself with a country or race. I am in identity limbo. Perhaps it's better that way.
This young mans story and what he showed me today have given me the kick up the backside I needed.
Long live the spring!

How much time do you have?

When I came to France, I had left Ireland,under the impression that I was moving into a house that was been given to us to look after and do some work on, and that my father in law would help me find a job through his contacts. I very quickly realised that this would never happen.

The house I moved into on 2.5 hectares of land had no electricity or hot water, holes in the roof and the grounds were completely unkempt. The house had rats and was not suitable to be the living quarters of a family.

In my time there I replaced ceilings, helped plan the installation of electrical wiring , installed water pipes cut grass and trees and used a chainsaw, and a heavy garden machinery. None of which I was qualified to do but all of which I did thinking it was for the future of my family.

When the relationship between my ex and I broke down, I had no job, my level of French was minimal, my understanding of the administrative tasks involved in French life was non existent and I found many practices culturally very different.

Faced with the prospect of probably never seeing my son again or only in Summer time at best, I decided to stay in France for him. I was completely alone.

I had asked my ex for help in order to find a place to live, she refused. It was with tenacity and persistence on my part that I finally found someone willing to rent me a studio and I had no references no guarantees but I pleaded with the agent.

During the break up I got my first job teaching English.

My revenue Brut Global in 2004 was 3600 euros. I still had to feed myself and my son when he was with me, and pay rent and electricity.
In 2005 my revenue Brut Global was 7782 euros. Fortunately I had friends at home and had made some friends in France who helped out with administrative tasks, kept my morale up as best they could and encouraged me to stay for my son. In these two years, I was obliged to rely on others to get by, I visited the St Vincent de Paul in order to be able to eat. .

I obtained a scooter for transport and found finally a willing companion who has been my rock in a very challenging time in my life.
I am 1m80 which is a inch short of 6ft, and when I met my current partner I was 59kgs. There is a pic of me on face book. It scares me now when I look at it.

I had discussed often with his mother the fact that when I was established we would share the care of our son. The more established I became however the more reluctant she appeared to be. Dates that were made, were often broken and I could never be sure even around Christmas as to if and when I would see my son. She is incapable of sticking to dates or organising ahead.

I have paid his school and canteen always despite my earnings being so low. Oisín has always had enough clothes, toys, and food in his home with me, and I have often received him in shoes or trousers that are ripped and torn.

I have in the past 5 years, managed to hold down a full time job, to learn French and although I can speak well I wouldn’t consider myself fluent, certainly I am bilingual. I have also obtained my full driving licence, although driving on the other side of the road was a challenge for a while. I have continued to teach Oisín to communicate, to use English, to guide him as best I can. I quit smoking again for him in order to be there when he is older. I learned to swim correctly and I have become fit, all for my son.
I am now settled and I am a father again, one year after trying to get a divorce in the first instance. Finally Oisín has a sister and he is very proud and very loving toward her. I have succeeded despite my ex wife. Whatever issue she may or may not have with me, she has no right to use our son to gain leverage of any sort.

I have had no wish to engage in a fight or to disturb my son. My strategy in not asking for full garde was to be fair. My wish was to engage maturely as the good parents that we are. But this social inquest and my difficulties with the first lawyer, a friend of my ex’s father, who threatened me with prison, signal that the boy's mother and her family are willing to play politics with him.

Now there is the question of his sister who will grow up knowing her brother is 2kms away but she can’t see him and how do we explain that to both children?

I am not going away. I live in this country for my son, and now for the rest our family. I am the father of my son. I am doing my job. I am there for him. I will never let him down no matter how much other people may wish me to disappear. I am asking the French state and legal system to understand that in our case some form of shared care must be established. Every second weekend is not enough. I am open to suggestions, to innovations, to compromises and this I know in my heart is the way forward.

But whatever happens he will always be loved and soon it will be time to just get on and move forward.

Life goes by so fast

I have had friends here. Good friends. It's been pleasant. I am over tired. Boy was here earlier than expected for the French mid term break. We had 11 days of bliss, learned the times tables, played video games, changed and bathed his sister together. We had fun.
I have received lots of letters that I have requested from people asking for them to write how I am as a father. Some are very perfunctory some are very touching. The French are big on letters and legal things, and there is a special way to write this stuff.
I will update soon with a proper response to the social inquest. But for the moment, my couple is under some strain, but we are managing to hang in there. Our daughter is beautiful as are our friends. I am learning lots about people when I see how the interact with my girl.
I am evolving! Finding my power and then stepping into it, has been difficult but I am beginning to manage it a lot better now.

Somthing Amiss

Well I haven't been writing because with the New Born it's been a bit of the lack of sleep that has been killing the writing desire.
However there are other issues which I don't dare talk too much about now. I am in contact with my Lawyer a lot in regards to my son. It's worrying, but I am hoping common sense, justice, and fairness will be seen to win through in the end.
I am reading lots but I am so tired at night as if I have spent the day training.
I have managed to take up the swimming again which helps the stress levels stay down.
My best friend lost his mother and it's tough not to be able to go and be there for him and his family but he will be with me next week.
Eh Volia and crazy short update on life to blogland..........
keep your fingers crossed for me!

Sleep

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I wish!

Bitten on the Ass.

You know, sometimes life is just wonderful. In the last 2-3 weeks, I have become a father again. My daughter is wonderful, a miracle, amazing, and incredibly pleasing to both my lover, boy, and of course myself. I have seen my 'mother in law' barking on the phone to her dog, my sister in law arrived with a new style coat, that I had admired a long time ago. She is training to be a designer. Her taste is right up my street. A little conservative, a little......erm...left of left lets say.
In fact there was so much joy and so much newness in my circle I had almost managed to push it to the back of my mind. Then last Tuesday morning my lawyer rang. I knew from her tone it wasn't going to be good news. She was in possession of the 'judgement' of social services and would send it to me. As soon as I would get a translation I would ring her to discuss an appointment and to decide how to proceed. Nothing in her tone or words gave me cause for hope.
Friday morning I brought boy to school, rebuilt a computer with an amazingly strong graphic card, that lover had bought for my Christmas present. I was happy. I mean genuinely happy. That feeling that comes so rarely in life. The world is perfect, all your loved ones are close, no one is pissing you off, even finances momentarily are not a problem. I was glowing. I suppose it was like an after orgasm, or an escape to victory, or some feeling comparable. This feeling however had duration, longation, durability, realness, tangibility. I was alive.
At 4:15 I went to collect Boy, our 'copains' friends were at the school. I should fill you in, because of my history in filming, I had a panasonic T shirt. I was seen by a couple who work in film, they made contact with me, they are the only people in the area to have bothered. We love them and feel appreciated by them. He was there with his parents in law as the kids got out, and introduced me as ' a friend' and I was very touched. We had some banter. I was confident. I was alive. I was happy.
Boy came out and we greeted each other the way an 8 year old can greet his father when everyone is looking. We came back home and checked the post. I knew what was in the envelope before I opened it. I could feel the energy from it. It drained me immediately.
I managed to stay calm as I read the lies. The report included the social workers report about her meetings with me and Boy's mother and himself. In honesty it didn't appear to give creedence to the lies told about me. However the report, (made while she wasn't working) stipulates that things should stay as they are. I should see my son, every 15 days. I should pay his mother upkeep of 300 euros a month.
Let me say that last night basically I cried myself to sleep. Okay so emotionally it is hard, I feel my heart is torn. Yes I have a new life with Girl, Lover, but I would not Choose ever between Girl and Boy.
Now on principal here is what pisses me off. I have made huge efforts. Yes I clap myself on the back ( basically because no one else does and I need to feel good). I gave up a career, a culture, an identity and friends for something that tumbled down on my head. Smashed me. I survived. Now I have to play second fiddle to a person who now has a full time job ( funny how just for the period of the investigation she was available for her child) so my son is absent from his home for a minimum of 12 hours a day. Then he is often posted out to an aunt, an uncle, grandmother etc; while mother is off doing her thing. I don't have a problem with that. The problem I have is he could be with his father sooner in the day more often in the week, with his step mother, with his sister!
I live in strange society, I am very very angry, I am incredibly heart broken. So now my challenge is how do I do what is best? How can I even know what is best? I am on that thin line of trying to decide what is best for him and what it is that I want, and how do I tell the difference.
I haven't told him the judgement. I will talk the lawyer first. All else pales into insignificance, but I have a lived a life of comprimise too much. It has battered me to sacrifice my principles time and time again.
Perhaps it is just a fable that truth and honour win out. Perhaps I am dreaming to think that if I want this enough I can make it happen. How do I tell that it is the best thing? I cannot imagine a journey of 5 minutes 2 times more a month than happens at present would destabilise a child in any way!
But I know this, my desire to be a peace bringer, to be a person of principle, honest, has once more risen and bitten me on the ass.
From now on there are balls to be played and none of them are soft. The truth is like a well cut diamond, beautiful, precious, but multifacited. I will now show the other faces of our truth to whomever will listen and I will shake off the responsibility that this mess is only mine, and I will show I am a good father, I will try not to be motivated by anything other that what is right, but for once in my life, to show the decievers, their commeupance, ..........perhaps that would be loosing focus, but it would give such satisfaction.

A Hungry Feeling

A hungry feeling came over me stealing as my girls were sleeping in the other room.
I spoke with a pal on Skype today and he pointed me towards this.

I understand how foreign it is to you, but listen, at a quiet moment, empty your head of stress, just let the voice and the notes caress you, you will hear my ancestors, my roots, calling me home!

This is a part of why I am different!

PRIDE

This is the good face of pride.



Perhaps this is the lazy good face of pride, I am actually awake!



While I have a lot of irritations in my simple life, they are as nothing when I look at these pictures or think of these moments, or better still, just live them.

Just living the bliss

Okay, so, well, that is it really. Just living the bliss.

Elisa