Good morning,
I hope that you just and yours are effectively.
Some of you will have been studying my newsletters for a few years – an enormous thanks to you. And a few of you might be new – and an enormous welcome to you. You will quickly uncover, if you happen to do not already know, that my common updates share articles about France which are written by actual individuals (not AI). The Good Life France web site has greater than 6000 articles on every little thing from locations to go to throughout France, recipes, language programs, one of the best excursions, to guides for all times in France, every little thing you wish to learn about France and extra. And now we have a superb quarterly free journal (which has greater than 4 million common readers – thanks a lot to everybody who reads and shares it). We even have a podcast which has been a bit uncared for currently as it has been a relatively difficult yr for me, plus my pretty podcast associate left to take a wonderful job he could not resist. I’ve had so many requests for its return – (thanks a lot for all of your pretty compliments about how a lot you take pleasure in it) and I’ve actually missed chatting to you – so, I feel that will probably be again within the new yr.
My newsletters are additionally about life in France – the individuals I meet, the locations I am going, the typically baffling lifestyle, and sometimes peculiar customs. Living in rural northern France, in a tiny village of 152 individuals and 1000 cows would possibly lead you to imagine that life just isn’t that thrilling – uninteresting even. I guarantee you that nothing is farther from the reality. Take the week earlier than final…
Our neighbor Petit Frère (which interprets as ‘little brother’ – he’s the youngest of 10 brothers and sisters, however not younger, or little), who’s the form of go-to handyman within the village, set to work chopping up an enormous tree which has lain for greater than a yr in Mr and Mrs Pepperpot’s discipline (not their actual identify, however they’re very petite). The first morning we walked previous with our 4 canines, Petit Frère stopped sawing to provide me a kiss on the cheeks, shake arms with Mark my husband, and pat the canines. The subsequent morning the identical factor. The third morning he provided us a slice of cake. His spouse had made a sensible salted butter caramel xmas log cake in readiness for Christmas, and needed our opinion.
The 4th day we took minced pies to share with him – a conventional British Christmas deal with we begin consuming a month earlier than! On the fifth day, Petit Frère had reinforcements to ensure the job obtained completed – Bernard, a retired gendarme and a person of few phrases, plus Claude Junior (an area farmer who’s of indeterminate age however undoubtedly not a junior). Mark volunteered to assist too and returned at lunch time to say that they had completed slicing, stacked the wooden within the barn and Mr and Mrs Pepperpot had invited us all for lunch to say thanks.
We wandered as much as the Pepperpots’ home. It was a chilly day and the fog had barely lifted since daybreak. A blast of scorching air fell out after we pushed the entrance door open. We have been the final to reach, kissed and shook arms with everybody and accepted a glass of wine earlier than we may get our coats off. The Pepperpots had ready a feast – carbonnade, a wealthy beef and beer stew infused with gingerbread, do-it-yourself bread, and ache perdu with speculoos ice cream (an area specialty mix of spices together with cinnamon, nutmeg and cardamom, and brown sugar). Three hours later we have been nonetheless sat there, everybody chatting and placing the world to rights. Pierre the farmer popped in to say hiya after he noticed Claude Junior’s tractor exterior. Madame Bernadette got here by to see why her good friend and neighbor Mrs Pepperpot wasn’t answering the cellphone. Spice Man, on his weekly spherical, arrived along with his van filled with ‘requirements’ which included merchandise starting from spices (therefore the identify) to yoghurts, and stopped to sip an oil thick espresso. We sat chatting till it obtained darkish earlier than shaking arms but once more, kissing and bidding one another salute and see you quickly.
Country life is stuffed with moments which are surprising. But uninteresting? Never.
Kisses from a grateful author in France.
Janine
Editor
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