A Sign Of Life From The Auvergne, France

It has been way too long since I blogged last. I apologize. But you see, the days have been flying by here in rural France and there never seems to be a dull moment.  After spending the first two weeks re-connecting with friends and catching up with the neighbors, my husband and I have started some projects around our 1866 stone farm house.  Since we are at least fourty-five minutes away from the nearest 'Mr. Bricolage', the French equivalent of Home Depot, everything takes longer, everything is a bit more complicated.

Since the weather has been absolutely glorious here, despite the occasional thunderstorm. I have also been working in the garden, happily planting anything that is hardy enough to survive the cold winters here in the countryside.

And at night, when the sun finally goes down at 10 pm, we make a fire, open a bottle of red wine, roast a chicken over the open flame and enjoy a home-made cherry clafoutis.

And then, we sink into bed, bone-tired and happy.

But no worries.  I have not forgotten about Brooklyn and will be back in just a bit. And I promise, I will resume reporting about Carroll Gardens. C'est promis.