We are feeling a bit of nostalgia today. Three years ago, Sunday, March 13, 2022, we left for France. After a lot of planning, dreaming, and a COVID induced two year delay, we were off. There was a lot of excitement, fear, and uncertainty, but we were on the way. So today I am reflecting on those first few days in rural Normandie.

Our friend Dave picked us up at Tricia’s sister’s house where we stayed for the two weeks between moving out of our condo in Mukilteo and our departure and drove us to the airport. Neville was in his carrier, where he would be for next 21 hours – airport, flight to Paris, then a four hour drive to La Thebauderie, Torchamp, France. I had my baritone, and the canvas document pouch stuffed with paperwork for France.

We arrived on Monday, lundi, then made the drive. Here is the first page of my sketchbook in our 230 year old cottage in Normandie.

Neville quickly settled in to his new chair, the familiarity of a blanket from Mukilteo and a pillow that was a gift from our dear friends to wish us well made him feel right at home.

Another journal page from those first few days.

We had a small, but quite delightful, back yard, through the hedge you can see fields in the distance.

One of the realities was that our main source of heat was a wood stove, which meant dealing with firewood. We bought a load from the farmer, which he delivered in the front-loader of his tractor, then dumped it at our front door. So we kept warm that day by stacking it, Tricia was quite pleased with the results.

Another difference was that we had no clothes dryer, actually they are quite uncommon in France, at least in rural Normandie. Still laundry must be done.

We took daily walks through the fields and farms, buildings like this still are such a delight. Our world, country, and life had changed – we will never be the same.

Ever since we decided to return to the US, and after our time back here, I have posted about how much we still miss France. I hope that has not been too much for all of you who have followed us along the way. It is never meant to be whinging (UK term for whining) it is simply a reflection of how deeply our experience and ties are to France. We talk almost daily about when we can go back for a visit, hopefully a long one.

In this fragmented culture we live in it is the recognition that we can connect with people and places the world over, we need that to get us through. The friends we made in France are dear, and they remind us of how much we all need each other.