Arriving

Change. Sometimes it feels we've turned the world on its head. And I find myself thinking What have we done? Cast ourselves adrift. For a moment, panic. Do we even have a sail? Change is frightening and exhilarating, liberating and uncertain. We were standing on the edge of a cliff and the only thing left to do was jump. 

Our old life in Paris, trains, people, crowds, work, work, work is gone now with all its familiar comfortableness. The 1 bedroom apartment's swapped for an old, cold Breton house and a huge garden. Soil to dig, cabins to construct, seeds to plant and vegetables to grow. And like the boat, cast off, rocking up and down on the waves, I go up and down, up and down. One minute blown over by the beauty and the silence and the space, the next terrified we'll never meet anyone, make any friends, put any names to all these places around us.

But, predictably, my three sweet babes are not so phased by all this. They aren't thinking or worrying, they are much too busy doing... 

There's a new pony club 
and one special pony, Shalom, 
to get to know and love for Maya. 

















The longed for woodworking; hammers, nails, string and screws are delighting Noah as well as plenty of 'veloing' (a.k.a bike riding - I love the 'franglais'). And along with his little sister, Lotte, hours and hours of swinging delight.

And watching them, seeing them getting on with it, we are inspired. We plunge in too and try to root a little even though we don't know how long this place will be home.