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Monday 7 September 2015

Bucolic, rural and idyllic

« Authentic» is the adjective that comes to mind when I think of my house in Burgundy France.  Bucolic, rural  and idyllic are next on the list.   When as newlywed ex pats we bought our 200 year old secondary home to escape Paris at the weekends in 1972 little did I know that 42 years on it would be my permanent home.

Little old ladies in black pinafores with straw hats and clogs have gone to another world – their stone abodes restored and revamped by grandchildren who have studied, married and brought their families back to the village  founding another generation of friendly and heartwarming people.

The welcoming bowls of cherries, strawberries and lettuce have continued to be placed on our doorstep all through the years and even to this day the generosity and kindness of the villagers has continued.
  
Retired from my lingerie shop after many years in historical Semur-en-Auxois the medieval city close by;  I now enjoy watching the lizards slide across the patio flagstones baking themselves in the sun while I clap my hands to shoo the flocks of birds who peck at my cherries and who love to hide in the peach trees.

Vineyards line the hills where I walk my dog – rabbits, deer, and wild boar are a regular sight in the forest – october brings baskets of field mushrooms, black truffles and wild herbs to our table.
I might live in the heart of France but Paris is just an hour away by TGV and I can even catch lunch in London by Eurostar.


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