As I set the camera on timer on a carefully balanced tripod in the corner of the kitchen during supper, no one raised an eyebrow; the family are all quite used to me snapping away by now, they automatically assume “it’s for the blog” and ignore me! But Roddy did ask one thing, “What’s this post about?”
“Hygge” I answered.
“What?” exclaimed everyone. Not one person around the table had a clue what I was talking about so I explained a little.
“So are we moving to Denmark now?” was Roddy’s comment afterwards, and from there the conversation moved on to short days, gathering darkness by 3pm, and the fact that Denmark is actually on the same latitude as the north of Britain. This all led to talk of the Scottish Islands and my ancestors, and so on and so forth. ‘Hygge’ was long forgotten, the camera had blinked and taken it’s automatic photo, but no one had even noticed. The candles continued to flicker and faces remained animated with the fast paced chatter around our kitchen table.
Continue reading “Thankful for our French ‘Hygge’ Lifestyle”
A question I am often asked is, “How do you make a living in France?” and for anyone even vaguely contemplating a life abroad, income is very often the number one consideration. For others who will never live here, and who may never even get to visit, how to earn a living in a foreign country is still a fascinating subject; the details of how people support themselves, and the measures they will go to in order to achieve their ambition can be the most compelling part of the adventure. It’s not always easy to work here. Some people run online businesses, others own or manage gites and chambre d’hôtes and some commute long distances. This is exactly why I was so happy to start this series about expats living in France; because everyone has their own story to tell of how they overcame the obstacles and made their dream a reality, and today I’d like to introduce you to an English couple – Jacqui and her husband Adrian. 
I discovered a little secret the other day about the pâtisseries you see in a typical French boulangerie. All those lovely tarts, the fruity slices and the sensual rum babas, perfectly centred in little paper wrappers – do you know who buys them? Certainly, there are lots of them sold in beautiful cardboard boxes to elegant ladies dressed to within an inch of their lives, and of course, others go out the door in the clutches of small children, but to my surprise I learnt that very few go home with bored housewives. Of course, no French woman touches anything outside of a meal-time; we know that. So where do these pâtisseries go? 
Our French Oasis 