The Auvergne: fields, forests and hills, as far as the eye can see.
Max and Lucy on their way to get the morning bread.
The little creek where I used to bathe as a child.
Poppies growing on a pile of manure.
A cow lazily gazing in my direction.
The bouquet of flowers my neighbor Claudine left in the house as a welcome.
Merci, Claudine!
Stocking up.
Heirloom tomatoes and a jar of apricot jam I made.
and apricot almond tarte Lucy and I made from fruit we brought back from Provence.
You probably were wondering if I had dropped off the face of the earth. In some way, I have.
After a few sunny days in the South of France, I arrived at our family house in the Auvergne on Sunday. I can not adequately describe the joy I feel about being back in my little village, of finding everything the way I left it in August of last year and of reconnecting with my dear friends and neighbors, Claudine, Michel, Marinette and René.
In just a few days, I have slipped into the day to day of country life. There is weeding to be done in the garden, laundry to hang on the clothesline, fresh bread to be fetched from the baker and most importantly, there are fires to be made in the fireplace at night, when the sun falls and the temperature goes down to the 40's.
Brooklyn, you ask? It seems far away, but hardly forgotten.
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