Slowing down

The beautiful terrace where we break bread most days...how lucky am I?!

 Since 'moving' to the South of France, (sorry Auntie Judy, we're really never leaving), both Tom and I have easily become accustomed to a slower pace of life - not to say that people are lazy or not busy; on the contrary, people seem to somehow get things done, even with a two and a half hour lunch break in the middle of the day! We've managed to turn that lunch 'hour' into an entire afternoon...I blame the rosé.

We have managed to leave the house during the afternoon to explore the area around where we are staying. In this rural area, there aren't really road names, just village names, so you have to be on top of your local geography to get anywhere (as the navigator, I have gotten us lost almost every day, as I can't get the knack of using villages as directions!) My aunt lives in between two 'villages', which are basically just a cluster of one to two farms surrounding the tiny country roads. And when I say tiny, I mean you have to violently swerve into a field to allow an oncoming car to get by - my heart is in my throat every time we leave the house.

We met some new friends at Le Rauffet, the farm behind us: