Where I fell in love

Not with a person, but a village. This was the first French house I ever owned but with a couple who divorced. It was several hundred years old. I sold my share. There was the kitchen fireplace once used to feed the family, a clay pig head holding up an original beam.

A new owner has created a rooftop terrace.

I had a chance to buy it once again, but didn't want to get into the need to upgrade from the studio I loved. 

Better to be happy with what I have than constantly looking for more and more. Living around the corner was anything but a hardship.

And the people who own it now invited us for meals.

I've been described as a cake eater because I want both the cake and to eat it. This is an example of how I do get both.

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