Our little rented house

We have been house hunting again on this trip. Another dozen to add to the dozens we have already seen.

Lovely houses blighted by some unbelieveable monstrosity, lovely houses way over priced, lovely houses where you don't own the view and another little white box (like our rented house) might be built in it, houses so weird you and the agent laugh outloud, houses that make you shake your head that someone could have done that to such a lovely looking house and just plain dull houses.

The original house we sold up for, we have given up on, and if it isn't an ancient house with a garden in the medieval hill top town, we don't want just any house in the town.

The 'what we had before but in its original state' was sold before we could get a second look. Yes I know the idea was to downsize but the location was spectacular.

We are going to look at a house being sold privately in a local village this morning. And keep coming back to one we saw last November which has come down lots in price.

But meanwhile we are renting a tiny house on a hill with the most glorious view, shaded by lovely trees, with wonderful birds all around.

Kind friends are composing a letter to the ageing Parisian owners to see if they will sell. You never know, maybe this is the year when they decide that the 6 hour drive is just too much and none of the children really want it..................................

And it is all about location, location, location.

La Belle France

I have been trying to recap on life this year in a couple of paragraphs and I give up. I'll just jump back in again and you'll have to pick up the pieces as we go along.

We arrived back in our little rented house back in France on Tuesday. It is soooo green and lush everywhere. When we left we were just sliding out of being snowed in and now it's summer.

We collapsed in a heap after a 14 hour trip in the same weather that M Hollande was in in Paris and in the morning woke to clear blue skies and sunshine. Bliss, it has been so rainy in England. On throwing open the back door there were 2 geraniums and half a dozen eggs on the table. Oh how kind. We are really living the cliche.

A bit later on the lady who had delivered them dropped in to tell us that her husband had cut the lawn twice - to discourage the burglars - and while he was there she had aired the house and cleaned the windows. She was very sniffy that she couldn't find the hoover (we had taken it back to England) so had shaken out the carpets as best she could.

Right, urgent shopping required for flowers and whisky.

Yesterday was a public holiday - one of many in May - and there are loads of tourists, and houses that are all closed up in the winter had shutters thrown open and voices calling. It's the first time since we moved here that I have felt like a tourist and not one of the locals. It felt very strange.

Internet

Well, here we are, middle of May and it has taken until now to get internet access in jolly old blighty! And we're back to France on Tuesday.

New computer, new blogger layout, new google layout, new new new new new

I will get back on line and my head back in gear, honest.