The magic of words

A colourful hello from France

I am sorry I have neglected you this year, the often-unseen faces who take your time to read my words. To ghost you with my silence was unforgivable, as was losing sight of the fact that you might need a smile or a hug from France to brighten your day.

A recent chance meeting at work has made me realise that this blog was so much more than just my words and waffle.

“You’re the lady who writes the blog that kept me sane during lockdown” 

Uttered by a stranger as she walked into the Château de Javarzay this September, and wow, what an opening sentence that was. As is so often the way, the universe had aligned to ensure her unannounced visit to the museum I so often talk about here, fell on a day I was working.

Thanks to my daily blogs, written over five years ago, she knew all about me, our family life and how we’d spent those weird months of lockdown. From day one it had felt important to record our time during those extraordinary months, but I had little idea of the importance they would have on those who were looking in from their own topsy turvy lives. I still don’t even know this lady’s name, but she did share some of her lockdown story with me this week. Hers was so far removed from the blissful family bubble we emersed ourselves in, so to learn that my diary helped her through a traumatic time was humbling and I shall treasure her words forever. Her visit has inspired me to open a fresh notebook, pick up my trusted pen and let the words flow once more. 

Finding the time to write is now more of an issue for me than it’s ever been, as life has changed direction again. When I began blogging, over eighteen years ago, it was my way of remembering those early years of our family adventure in France. I was a stay-at-home mum, with a husband who worked away from home, and even with a vegetable garden, orchard and a small menagerie of chickens and ducks, there were many lonely hours when Ed was at school or tucked up in bed of an evening. Blogging filled the gap, giving me somewhere to release my thoughts, and putting a humorous spin on things that hadn’t gone to plan became like a kind of therapy. Connecting with readers all over the world as I shared our life was an unexpected bonus.

Since March of this year, I have been working at both the château and the library in Chef-Boutonne, a dream combination of roles that I still have to pinch myself to believe is true. However, with no two weeks being the same, life can feel a little crazy sometimes with no routine to follow. It is a great memory exercise for my brain though; what day is it? Where am I working today? What time do I start and what time do I finish? So far, so good – I’ve always arrived at the right place for the right time. In an almost complete role reversal of our early years in France, it is now Adrian who is spending more time home alone than I do. This has been a huge learning curve for him, especially this autumn where he has mastered the art of preparing windfall apples for the freezer, ensuring our winter breakfasts will be just as delicious as our summer ones. I’ll even admit that his method is much more efficient than mine, although it does produce more washing up.

Today, as I celebrate my 54^th birthday (if I say that quickly it doesn’t have time to register how old I am), it seems the perfect opportunity to hit publish on this blog once more and to say thank you for reading. I will be back soon, sharing some of our camping mini adventures from this summer. 

Jacqui