Here in France, like so many other places in the world, as of noon on Tuesday, the 17th, we are on lockdown/quarantine/shelter-in-place for at least 15 days, needing an Attestation De Déplacement Dérogatoire (a form) stating who we are, where we live, and our purpose for being out. Luckily for me, my friend Luke decided to come here last week from Switzerland rather than going back to his home in Italy,, which was already experiencing a mass quarantine, and…
No question about it! Fall has arrived in Nérac. Sunday’s forecast indicated no sunny days. None, ever again. With the day’s storm came winds blowing branches to the ground, covering walkways and providing a trecherous obstacle course as I walked Elsie to and from her favourite elimination spots. I changed from a light jacket to the big, down coat, and, as I walk the dog, I’ve watched the water in the Baïse began its gradual climb up the sides of…
When I moved to France last year, I smoothly transitioned into my new, ready-made French family. It didn’t replace my own family back in the USA, but it made for a soft landing here in this new land. As with most family units, at the centre of the new family was the matriarch, Kate Hill. All others were spokes from her wheel hub: her sister, Steph, who was my primary source of info on all things french, my translator, my negotiator; Elaine, an…