A French Table 1

Life in rural France with bureaucracy, baguettes, and one too many ducks. A memoir-in-progress and tales from the edge of reinvention.

A French Table 1

A French Table 1

I’m a Seattle native turned rural France resident, living in a 1647 stone house. I write about reinvention, everyday absurdities, and cultural chaos. Still not fluent but well-fed.

BREAKING NEWS:

At approximately 13:17 local time, as temperatures climbed to 110°F (43.3°C), my iPhone became the first member of the household to establish healthy boundaries.

After reviewing current conditions, management determined continued operation was no longer in its best interest.

The device has been moved to a cool location and is…

Somewhere in rural France, there is currently a conversation taking place that will eventually affect me.

This is the story of how I finally stopped trying to be the last person to know.

The Hidden Economy of Rural France

The day was a furnace.

The fields were toast.

The only thing moving

was a very tired host.

France keeps teaching me the same lesson in different ways.

Not everything needs fixing.

Not everything needs improving.

Not everything needs to be rushed.

Before the cow, before the tractor, before the goat lady and the Dutch bachelor party archaeology project, there was cheese.

Specifically, one innocent trip to the hypermarché that turned into a full-blown existential dairy event.

As the French would probably say: Bon courage!