As I staggered in from the garden earlier this evening, having just mowed over a quarter of an acre with my trusty push-mower, I realised that we are almost in September and most people probably think I’ve done a midnight flit. J I’ve actually been feeling the first stirrings of blog inspiration again recently and will be back with a real post very soon, but I just wanted to show a sign of life and say thank-you for not forgetting about me altogether.
We have friends coming to stay early next week and after this will come the slow winding down of this latest summer in Normandy. As so often at this time of year, the weather is becoming beautifully sunny and golden, making it hard to think of uprooting ourselves and heading back across the Channel. But the ferry is booked and the diary is starting to fill with things to do when we get home, so we plan to enjoy these final days in France as much as we can, before packing our life into the very small campervan and taking it home again to Wales.
So as the leaves on the trees – cherry, apple and poplar - turn to gold and start to fall, I’ll leave you with a reminder that France is indeed another country, with a beautiful language I have yet to master completely after more than 50 years of trying….