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I’m am still often in awe of how I came to be here. I never dreamt of France, nor of châteaux. I never imagined myself living anywhere but England. But somehow I am here. I’m not sure I ever really decided to come.
There are still moments, even after five years here, that I still can’t believe that this is where I live. There are days when I stand here, surrounded by ancient trees, listening to the birds sing and the wind play in the leaves and I can’t believe that I somehow ended up in this magical place.
There are other days still, when the house is fighting back, when everything is going wrong, when France seems alien and unkind and the disbelief flips and I cannot believe that I somehow got myself into this mess.
We were definitely searching for something; a more meaningful life, a change of pace, the chance to work together, to give our children more space perhaps. But another country hadn’t really crossed our minds.
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