It’s a beautiful summer evening and my husband and I enjoy a drink on our terrace. An enormity of green stretches in front of us as far as the eye can see and the songs of the cicadas compete with the reassuring sounds of the river. We’ve just finished renovating the farmhouse next door, the …
When I was single, I used to get two types of reactions. Those who pitied me and always asked the question: ’How come you are still single? Look at you, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re interesting,’ in that tone of voice you reserve for those who discover at a very young age that they have …
A friend once told me a story about a woman who desperately wanted to get married at a particular (very expensive and very popular) venue. Say Chiswick House. Even though her then boyfriend hadn’t asked her to marry him yet, she went ahead and booked the venue for the next available slot which was in …
A short history of personal rejection I once went out with this guy. I thought he was all right, you know, nothing to write home about, just a regular Joe, good looking and nice enough. But he seemed distracted. Like he was just being polite in having a drink with me, even though I …
If you’re like me (i.e. a master procrastinator, a self-sabotage genius and a time waster extraordinaire), then you’re probably wondering what’s wrong with you, how come you can’t get off your arse and pull your shit together to do things that seem effortless to others (like, I don’t know, write a book, start a blog, record a podcast …
Don’t you just hate Valentine’s Day? If you’re single, you wish you had someone to share it with, someone to bring you flowers and chocolate (or to bring to) and kiss and cuddle with on a cold February evening. If you’re in a couple, then you feel like you ought to do something special, but …
I didn’t really want to go to London. I didn’t want to return to the world of news and reality, commuting, delayed trains and, let’s face it, since it’s January after all, disgusting weather. I was perfectly happy in my bubble, perfectly content and embedded in my own slice of rural France for over two …
Today marks the two-months anniversary since we got on a one-way flight from Stansted to Biarritz to begin our new life in France. But it feels more like two years. Here’s how I celebrate it. I wake up to see rain falling in millions of tiny droplets outside my window and my mind is empty …
I realise that today it’s been one month since we moved to France and, yet, I still wake up in the morning wanting to pinch myself to test that I’m not dreaming. That yes, I did find a hedgehog sleeping in the chicken coop last night, that my cat actually comes running when I call …
’Welcome to the most cosmopolitan street in France,’ says Daniella, my Brazilian neighbour, whom I had the pleasure to meet at my other neighbour’s chateau, an absolutely jaw-dropping property across the street, where Julia, a Scottish who has been living here with the family for over six years, has organised a ladies’ evening. I’m gonna …
