It's Me, Sara Louise

Let’s talk about number seven.

I’ll start by answering your questions:

Meredith: Ooh where are you moving to, closer to those of us near Aix I hope?
Actually yes, I’ll be 8km closer to Aix and trust me, every step closer to Zara counts.

Abbey: AND THE MOVE!?!?!??!?! Is it official???
Yes Abbey, it’s official, but unfortunately not to where you’re thinking.
(See, Abbey was hoping that me and The Husband were moving close to French Mommy’s because she lives just around the corner, and there’s nothing that a Texas girl in France wants more, than another Texas girl around the corner… except for decent Tex-Mex of course).

Ella: Moving to Paris?
Oh that’s hysterical! I can’t even imagine Fifty in a city like Paris. He would have to pee on E V E R Y T H I N G before he began to feel even remotely comfortable there. But the thought of Paris does makes my city girl heart sing. Maybe next time.

And then the rest of the questions just wanted to know where, and don’t worry, I’m getting to it.
(Clearly I’m trying to draw this thing out as long as possible, and it also should be noted, that I have absolutely no idea how to write this post).

So yeah, we’re moving. A whole 10km/ 6mile journey down the Luberon a bit and through the forest away. That’s it. (not very exciting, is it?)

You’re probably wondering why we’re bothering moving at all… why leave beautiful Le Petit Village and it’s zany cast of characters? Because it’s zany and terribly inconvenient that’s why. There I said it. I bashed The LPV.

Where as this here, The LPV, will always be The O.G. LPV (the O.G. stands for original gangsta, in case you didn’t get that), we’re moving to a new one. And while the new Le Petit Village is bigger than The O.G. LPV, what with it’s 500+ inhabitants, it still has less than a thousand so that’s why I remain, Sara in Le Petit Village.

Here’s a fun fact for you… the new Le Petit Village is usually about 2°C warmer than The O.G. LPV, so if it’s 20°C here and 22°C there, then that really means that its 70°F here, and 74°F there, which is actually four whole degrees warmer, not two, and that’s a lot (that my friends is Sara Louise logic). So there’s one reason why we’re moving.

Also, there’s the house. Truth be told, I hate my house, H A T E it. It was only supposed to be for a few months but we got sucked into time and it’s been almost two years. Almost two whole years of living in a house that is crumbling and feels like it’s made out of swiss cheese when the mistral blows against it. And the kitchen. Ugh, the kitchen… my kitchen has about one square foot of workable counter space and a stove top with only two hobs that blows a fuse every time you try to use them both at the same time. So for someone who likes to cook like me, it’s a freaking nightmare.

The new house does not feel like it’s made out of swiss cheese and crumbling, is not facing into the direction of the mistral, has a proper kitchen (I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am about this) and added bonus… has heated tile floors! Fifty’s little feet will be in heaven this winter.

But, I am sad to leave here.

I like having Honey Jr and Honey’s Honey next door, and opening the door to let Fifty run around and play outside when his friend’s come a knocking. I’ll miss the beautiful Le Petit Village scenery passing by when I’m out on my morning jogs and it’s so quiet that it feels like I’m the only one here.