A Sign

28 March 2010

Today we spent the day with friends following them to 3-4 "vide-greniers" (french flea markets or the closest thing to a garage sale which are held on various days in different villages every week). They were good people to go with as they used to sell their own brocante finds at these venues and knew the prices that things should be sold for. It was quite an interesting shopping experience as there are beautiful antique fois gras pots displayed next to an old man's used slippers, so you have to be willing to go through quite a bit of junk in order to find the treasures. But, it was a fun way to spend the morning and I cannot wait to return when I do not have to worry about the logistics of trying to ship my purchases back to the states.

Later that afternoon, I dropped Caleigh and her friend off at her house and on my drive back to the gite, I can’t really explain it, but I felt so at home, so comfortable driving through the idyllic countryside. I could not imagine myself driving back in LA, or living there again.

Later I wrote to my mom about how it just felt like this place was "right for my soul". I explained further that I was really at peace and for the first time in years, I wanted to venture out and try new things (i.e. build and sell/rent houses or gites, write travel stories with Hank, make homemade jam to sell to the toursits...i know, i know, that last one sounds like a stretch, but the thing is, i really think I could do it!).

It just feels like that I'm meant to be here for some reason.

The next morning, Fariba writes an informative, somewhat positive email about the showings of our house and the market in Topanga in general, but suggests that we lower the price slightly so it will move and we agree. Then, a little later, when Hank goes to the marche in Duras so he can also scout properties on his way to and fro, he gets a call from an British friend asking if he would be interested in seeing a dilapidated farmhouse with great potential. Hank agreed that it was a great property, but way to much work and money for us. But, as they were driving back toward Sumensac, they passed the first farmhouse that we fell in love with back in January. Back then, we had inquired with a few realtors in the village about it, but no one seemed to know if it was actually for sale so we did not pursue it. Since there was a hand painted sign with a phone number out front, they called and spoke to the owner who confirmed that it was indeed for sale for $240,000 euros.

We felt like it was a sign. Or maybe, we twisted the feeling into a "sign" that we were indeed supposed to stay in France. Knowing that we could use Hank's skills and expertise in building and renovating home and my passion for entertaining, cooking, gardening, and so on, we began dreaming of what we could do to actually make this work. Rather than build our farmhouse in "Farmville," maybe we could do the real thing!