stories and lentils

It's just been a little over a year since we packed up our home in Bristol and set off with a temperemental van toward the south of France. It feels like a good moment to look back over the past twelve months and catch our breaths. There has been the discovery of places so beautiful that they seem to reach out and share their peace with me. There have been moments of true loneliness. There have been times when I have been wide eyed in awe at Florent's unfaltering rhythm as he builds a house around us. There have been times when mothering the girls without a break has made me feel broken. There have been times when I have thanked the universe for the good things in my life as I watch my girls play, crouching down to entice a ladybird onto outstretched fingers or wading into rivers to float leaves downstream. Last summer was a overheated introduction to the village, the paperwork and perfectly slow yet unrelenting time with the girls. No internet. It was a summer of sticky

May was the month of Grandparents. Florent's parents visited and then my Mum. We were very happy to have family visiting and the girls loved the extra love and attention. It felt like a holiday for all of us. These visits add to our determination to continue to renovate the house as well as we can and offer our friends and family somewhere comfortable to stay rather than the tent in the attic (sorry Mum). And, we finally got to the sea! After living here for almost a year we made the trip through the arid Corbières hills, all the way to the Mediterranean. It was amazing to discover new places and climates and plants. We walked for hours in the hills above the beautiful port of Collioure, through terraced vineyards tended to only by hand and amongst blazing yellow broom. There were groves of cork oak, olive trees and aloes and cactus. As is always the case with us, a circular walk that should take two hours took us all day but despite the slow pace we do feel very proud by the end