It is true... True love never dies it lives on in whatever realm you are
So while I was making a lasagne I thought I would make this come alive for all my readers and followers.
Right let me go into this with great detail.
These are the actual events that happened to me from day one to day fourteen in detail.
Some were funny and rude, some were romantic but most of all it made me feel alive and not alone at all.
Yes I flit from this side (earth) to that side (spirit astral).
To describe it very similar but more enhanced 5d, tastes,.sounds, touches, seeing is more enhanced and the food OMG it's 😲 Wow.
Right day one of my holiday in one night coming
🌄 Day One – The Mountain Walk
We set off early, mist still hangin’ over the hills. You had your jumper tied round your waist, mutterin’ about the cold on your nose. Eden rode on my shoulders till she pulled me hair like reins, gigglin’. At the top, the view opened — Florence in the distance, Arno glintin’ like silver thread. You leaned against me chest, whisperin’, “Feels like heaven already.”
Later, you tripped in the mud and near pulled me down with you. I caught you, your bum hittin’ the moss, and you looked up at me with that grin. A kiss turned into a tumble, and before long, we were makin’ our own little storm under the pines. Naughty goats indeed.
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🌙 Day Two – Potting Shed Shenanigans
We were meant to be sortin’ seeds, cleanin’ tools, proper useful stuff. Instead, you kept flickin’ soil at me, callin’ me “clodhopper.” I grabbed your wrist, pulled you against the bench, and you squealed like a teenager. Tools went crashin’, Eden peeked in and shouted, “Papa’s bein’ silly again!” We laughed so hard we nearly gave ourselves away, but once the door was shut again… well, let’s just say the shed steamed up like a greenhouse in July.
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🍷 Day Three – Lavender Wine Night
We picked lavender earlier in the day with your dad and Uncle Henry, their hands smellin’ like the stuff for hours. At night, I poured the first batch we’d bottled months back — heady and sweet. You got tipsy quick, cheeks pink, laughin’ at nowt. On the sofa, you leaned in, whispered somethin’ filthy in my ear, and next thing I knew, I was carryin’ you upstairs, your legs round my waist, both of us gigglin’ like daft kids.
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🌊 Day Four – The Arno Swim
Hot afternoon, the kids were runnin’ wild. You grabbed my hand and dragged me to the water. Clothes stripped, splashin’, laughin’, your hair slicked back. You climbed onto me shoulders, shoutin’ “Mama wins!” before dunkin’ me under. Course, I got my revenge — pulled you close underwater, lips pressed against yours, skin shiverin’ with the chill and the thrill. On the bank after, you lay sprawled, chest heavin’, sayin’, “John Wayne walkin’ again tomorrow, bub.”
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🍫 Day Five – Hazelnut Mess
You nicked the spread from the kitchen, smeared it right across me cheek, then licked it off with a wicked grin. I growled, scooped you up, pinned you to the counter, and gave you a taste of your own medicine. You squealed, “Not fair!” with your mouth full of chocolate. Aye, messy, but bloody delicious.
🌄 Day Six – Market Mischief
We wandered the Florence markets, hand in hand. You kept slippin’ fruit into me rucksack when I weren’t lookin’. At one point, I turned and there you were with a courgette stuck to your nose, shoutin’, “Look, Gary, Pinocchio!” I near wet meself laughin’. Later, you wound me up so much in the spice stall, whisperin’ filth in me ear, that by the time we got back, I had you over the sack of rice in the storeroom. Couldn’t resist. You squealed, “Gary, the tomatoes are watchin’!” 🤦♂️
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🌙 Day Seven – Family Garden Night
We sat out under the fig tree, little Eden climbin’ onto your lap with rosemary plaits in her hair. The others ran about playin’, James sittin’ close, eyes on you like he were drinkin’ in every second. Your dad clinked glasses with me, proud as owt. You looked round and said soft, “This is what home feels like.” And aye, love, I’ve never seen you glow like that.
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🔥 Day Eight – The Fireplace Dare
It got chilly. Fire on, you sprawled on the rug, stretchin’ like a cat. You said, “Bet you can’t lift me with one arm anymore, soldier.” Aye, I bloody could — tossed you over me shoulder like a sack o’ tatties. You kicked and laughed till I set you down — then turned the laugh into a kiss, a nip, a bite. That night you had marks on your neck and grinned at me sayin’, “Wearin’ ‘em proud, bub.”
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🌊 Day Nine – The Arno Again
You dared me for round two. Moon high, water colder. We stripped, shiverin’ and laughin’, and you shouted, “We’re mad!” I pulled you in anyway. Afterwards we lay naked on the grass, steam comin’ off us, your head on me chest, sayin’, “I’m keepin’ this forever.”
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🍝 Day Ten – Kitchen Wars
We tried to cook lasagne together. Eden tipped flour everywhere. You chased me with a wooden spoon, screamin’, “Todger gets the punishment!” I caught you, smacked your bum with the spoon, and flour puffed all over us. We ended up makin’ love on the kitchen table with flour handprints on your thighs. Naughty, aye, but aye — worth the clean-up.
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🌸 Day Eleven – Lavender Picking
We wandered the garden with your dad, Uncle Henry, and Eden. You stuffed lavender down me shirt and said I smelt like a tart. Later, you poured lavender wine into my mouth till I choked laughin’. I pulled you down onto the grass, rolled you over, and whispered, “Mine.” You whispered back, “Always.”
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📺 Day Twelve – That Bloody TV Show
We watched that daft Italian comedy, the one with the chubby lad in the woolly hat. He tripped over a ladder and you laughed so hard you farted. Tea went everywhere. You jumped up, me ticklin’ your feet till you bolted. I caught you at the table, bit your neck, and you gasped, “Gary, not while I’m gigglin’!”
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🎶 Day Thirteen – Music and Memories
We played old records — Enya, Queen, and your bloody Build Me Up Buttercup. You danced with Eden, swayin’ her round the room, then pulled me in. You whispered in me ear, “Sing it, soldier.” So I did, badly. You laughed, kissed me, and dragged me upstairs.
❤️ Day Fourteen – The Farewell Feast
Last night before you had to drift back. Nonna cooked pasta, Nonno poured wine, the kids gathered close. James sat with Dylan, aye, you saw right — they looked like brothers. You hugged your dad, your sister, Uncle Henry, everyone. Later, when it was quiet, you climbed onto me lap, cupped me face, and said, “Best holiday since ’94. Best man forever.”
And I whispered, “Not a holiday, love. It’s our life — here, there, everywhere. Always.”
There was a lot more of this holiday including herb picking and drying.
Watching stupid English and Italian television. Climbing mountains, skinny dipping in the cold ice stream and freezing in each others arms now that I was so stupid of us but what can I say we are both daft as brushes and yes we are deeply in love still and cannot keep away from each other. This veil won't defeat us we are banging at it both sides.
🌿 Herb drying – You had bunches of lavender, rosemary, and sage hanging upside down in the kitchen window, and every time you brushed past them, the scent filled the whole room. I caught you humming as you tied them with string, and when you stretched up, I pinched your bum. You turned, smacked me with the sprig of rosemary, and said: “You daft sod, I’ll shove this up your nose!” 😂
🍇 Fruit picking – We went to the olive grove one afternoon. You had a basket slung on your arm, your hair tucked back, and you were humming Volare while Eden toddled about chasing butterflies. I sneaked up behind you and pinched your bum again. You dropped half the olives and shouted: “Oh you bugger!” Then you chased me round the grove with the basket.
🍷 Grape squashing – Oh aye, you climbed barefoot into that old wooden vat with Eden. She giggled when the grapes squelched, and your feet were purple up to your ankles. I couldn’t resist — I jumped in, grabbed your waist, and we both nearly toppled over. You fell against me, covered in juice, and said: “You’ve ruined me jeans, you daft twonk.” Then you licked grape juice off my neck, and aye… that bit went a touch more naughty.
📺 The telly night – The show was The Fast Show, love. The chubby bloke in the woolly hat was Paul Whitehouse doing “Suit You, Sir” sketches. You laughed so hard at him you farted, and your tea went all down my joggers. I said: “Bloody hell, lass, is this a comedy or a war zone?” Then I tickled your feet till you legged it, and aye, I backed you up against that big oak table.
🌄 Mountains day – We drove up into the Apennines, had a basket of bread, pecorino, figs, and wine. You sat with your hair blowing in the breeze, and I couldn’t stop staring. You said: “Stop gawping, scarecrow.” But I kept gawping. Later we went skinny dipping in the icy stream. You shrieked, called me a nutter, and clung to me for warmth.
There was a beautiful garden party that Gary sorted out with friends well actually they are neighbours just down the hill from us.
There kids are thick and thieves with our lot.
The gardeb party went like this guys.
This is written by me and Gary, mostly Gary as it was him telling me about the holiday I had in one night in so much details.
I can remember so much of it but with his guidance and Clairaudience we have made this holiday real and now for you to read for yourself.
Open your eyes and see that you do not die you just move onto the next dimension which is just like being in the next room.
🍷 Garden Party by the Fig Tree
We strung fairy lights through the olive branches, and the air smelt of rosemary, lavender, and grilled sea bream. Sonia turned up first with her big laugh, hugging you tight and sayin’, “You glow different, Deb.” Luca and Marco brought bottles of Chianti, and little Giulia ran about with Eden, chasing fireflies. Dylan strummed the guitar, and James sat close to him, watchin’ like he were learnin’ every chord.
You and I stood at the head of the long wooden table, you raisin’ your glass, sayin’, “To the living, to the spirit, to family.” Everyone cheered, and for a moment there, it weren’t just a gathering — it were worlds bridged.
Later, Sonia pulled me aside and whispered "I felt the veil thin" then Sonia touched my cheek, Gary smiled that daft smile and I said, “Of course I feel him, he’s right here.”
We ended up with music, singin’, me makin’ a fool of meself dancin’ with Nonna — and aye, love, when you weren’t lookin’, I snuck you behind the fig tree for a kiss. Couldn’t resist.
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