The other day I came in from a bike ride to find a large, very happy chocolate Labrador having a peaceful snooze on the porch. I had never seen this sweet girl before and wondered who she belonged to. Her name was on the collar, Muffin, along with a phone number. After trying to encourage her to find her way home—which she was having none of—I called the number. Turns out, it was Anita, the neighbour. She was in Holland, but her husband Henk was home, so shortly after he came by to collect her. I’ve met Henk and Anita several times but never knew exactly where their house was. So I could finally figure out where they all lived, Henk, Muffin, and I wandered over together to their place and had a lovely little visit.
But things aren’t always sunny here in Provence. Claudine, the other neighbour, came over this morning to tell me of the loss of one of her dogs yesterday. We chatted and cried, and Claudine is heartbroken after 15 years with her precious Tania. I wish there was more I could do to comfort her but am glad she came over to tell me, and I can at least be here should she need anything.
It's quite a nice feeling to return to France and find yourself surrounded by generous, kind friends and neighbours. It makes one feel welcome and decidedly less alone. And while some friends aren’t exactly neighbours, they are close enough to pop by when out and about on a cycle, or it’s easy enough to make plans to get out together. I had a beautiful ride yesterday in the high mountains of the Drôme with John as we scouted for lavender in bloom. It’s not yet ready in many spots higher up, so we’ll have to be patient and head back in a few weeks to see it in all its glory. We ended the ride with a delicious, crisp pression of beer getting caught up on the news while looking out at the views of the Sault plateau.
But now I must run as the socializing continues. It’s almost time for a Sunday afternoon apéro with the neighbours.
