The house in which we are staying has been converted from a series of linked agricultural buildings. From the outside it still looks like a huge stone barn, and only the Velux windows right up near the apex of the roof suggest that it is now a residential building. (Albeit one that is still a work in progress.)
Inside is a warren of room and stairs on different levels, all having been carved out of the roof space, various storage spaces and sheds. We ate lunch today in the old laiterie, or milking parlour, and A&T are staying in the converted pigeonerie attached to the house.
There are books everywhere. And I really do mean everywhere: there are shelves in the bedrooms and in the laiterie as well as in the main living room. Another reason why I love it here.
Like my parent’s converted farmhouse in the English countryside, this building is only one room deep, and the living room has French windows into the courtyard, where we eat and hang out.
This swing seat had my name on it from the moment I walked into the courtyard:
When not curled up in there with a not improving book, I have been writing on the end of this table, looking over the field, and sheltered from the 32C/90F temperatures.
Whilst avoiding the wasps, who are nesting somewhere near the swimming pool. This is a guêpe trap. Rather beautiful, considering its purpose is mass guêpe anihilation.
The guêpe proliferation is partly explained by the fruit trees which are everywhere, heavy with pears, mirabelles, Reine Claudes (greengages), Bramleys (imported by Mr B as cookers don’t grow in France), and peaches, and which I am eyeing beadily with thoughts of cake & tart swirling round my brain.
And, the final sign that I am acclimatising. Espadrilles.
(EUR6 from the local Hyper.)