When I moved to France , I had this idyllic picture in my head of me sitting in my garden in the sun writing. I would be surrounded by countryside and silence, and today what I imagined has come true; I just felt the urge to write about it.

It it is currently 29 degrees, at 17.05, I am I in my garden, the sky is so blue you really feel as if you could reach out and touch it, there is not a cloud. Rich and I have been laying on our sunbeds watching the baby swifts, that were born in our barn, flying above us, like little tiny spitfires, twisting and turning, diving and swooping catching all the insects in flight.

We we have talked about how we still look at our garden, out across the Chemin to our small field, and can’t believe it’s ours. The cherries are ripe for picking on our trees.

The welshes have been happily playing in the paddling pool, we have a glass of vin rouge, lamb in the oven, and friends who have helped us beyond belief.

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Rich just said “this is the life”. He’s right, it is, dreams do come true if you let them.