This is our last morning here on top of our little hill in the middle of the Auvergne. As if to make our departure even more difficult, the sun has been shining gloriously for the last two days.
My boys and I have been hard at work cleaning and , well yes, stacking wood for the next time we come here. I must admit that I was slightly freaked to see my son operate the chain saw. Mentally, I saw myself rushing to the nearest hospital with him. And seeing my husband on top of a very high ladder in order to trim the vine that climbs all the way to the gutter every year is not entirely comfortable either.
But this is our country life and different rules apply here than in Brooklyn.
I can not tell you, dear reader, how difficult it will be leave this place. Already yesterday, we began to say our good-byes from neighbors and friends. They are wonderful to us every year and I am terribly grateful to them.
Merci pour toute votre amitié et gentilesse, chèrs amis:
À Charlène, Patrick et Marie-Christine,
À Corinne et sa petite famille,
et surtout à Claudine et Michel.
À Marinette et René, toute mon affection.
( Et attention, l'année prochaine, la revanche à la Pétanque!)
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