Ten thirty at night and the kitchen door is still open onto the veranda, where Vita sits sphinx-like at the top of the steps listening to the night sounds - crickets, frogs, nightingales.
Earlier we sat in the courtyard of our favourite crêperie, chatting to the owner, the only ones there in the warm dusk, as she regaled us with stories of her great grand and grand parents. Stories of political resistance, intrigue and the birth of the communist party in this region.
Our first guest arrives this Friday to promised good weather. He will assume that South West France is always like this and not realise just how lucky he is.
These are the times when you realize why you moved to France.
ReplyDeleteForget the Euro Crisis and the problems for Banks (therefore for us) for a while.
Lesley, so true! :)
ReplyDeleteI have called in a few times before, by way of Perpetua, and have enjoyed reading your ponderings. I have moved (well....intending to spend half of each year in France and half in England) to a village just north of Carcassonne...and look forward to continuing to read your posts....hoping to learn lots ! best wishes, Janice.
ReplyDeleteLovely evenings...and always so welcome after cold winters and iffy springs...
ReplyDeleteJanice welcome (I always enjoy Perpetua's blog). You've chosen a wonderful part of France and I love the sound of benefiting from both France and the UK. :)
ReplyDeleteHello Fly - hope your evenings too are lovely at the moment. Something so special about the late hour and the warmth. :)
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