La douce France...

What a life we ​​lead here. The landscape, the sun, lovely people, delicious food—the good life. That’s what it’s all about for us.

Does this life have no downsides, then?

It certainly does. What often gets overlooked is that—since we aren't retirees—we work incredibly hard. Sad events don't pass us by here, either. The death of a 58-year-old man—suddenly, overnight. Someone full of life. A friendship that was relatively new, yet... it really hit home. News reaching us from friends in the Netherlands about serious illnesses, and the inability to just pop over and visit. The terrible news from around the world. The sluggish government bureaucracy, the language barrier, doctors and specialists who are hard to reach, and sometimes months-long waiting lists. Missing old friends, their chatter, and the shared history that goes back so far.

And most important of all: the children, their families, and Peter’s mother. Of course, we’re realistic enough to know that even if we lived in the Netherlands, we wouldn't be showing up on their doorstep every week. But every time we drive back from the Netherlands to our home in France, it feels like tearing ourselves away from family. The sense of missing them is physically palpable.

Fortunately, reality takes over again once the sign for Lille/Paris comes into view. But still...

We’ve settled in quite well by now. We speak the language to some extent—albeit with plenty of bumps along the way and riddled with mistakes—but we’re getting there. (Understanding it is another story, though.)

Peter works remotely from home every day; together we maintain the estate, and I work in my studio. We’ve gotten to know a lot of people. Admittedly, there are more Dutch people than French people around, but we’re perfectly fine with that. We’re doing our best. The art scene is slowly gaining ground. At first, you’re just an oddball living up on that hill, but slowly but surely, you seem less strange and start to feel like you belong—at least a little bit.

I’m also surrounded by wonderful artist friends with whom I can really bounce ideas around.

That was something I truly missed at the start: that artistic nourishment.

We’ve visited Paris several times for beautiful exhibitions, and that helps, too.

It was a delight to shape the major "Dans les Collines II" exhibition alongside my artist friends. It’s really starting to become a proper event now.

Life here is wonderful for us. We never take the extraordinarily beautiful, unspoiled landscape for granted. We feel privileged.

Sometimes you really have to pinch yourself—yes, it’s actually true. We live here.

But how we looked forward to our children and grandchildren visiting last summer! That’s the highlight of the year. A week of cuddling, playing, spoiling them, spending time together, and cooking delicious meals. Sharing Domaine Lavau with our loved ones brings us such happiness.