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Southern France
Lynn Deasy is a freelance writer, author, foodie, and garden tinkerer. She lives in a 600 year old house in southern France with her husband, Christophe. Currently, she is looking for a literary agent for her memoir CA VA? STORIES FROM RURAL LIFE IN SOUTHERN FRANCE which examines the oddities of French provincial living from an outsider’s point of view through a series of adventures that provide more than a fair share of frustration, education, admiration, and blisters…. yes, lots and lots of blisters. Lynn blogs every Monday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Can you drop the Riff-Raff?

We went for a walk this weekend up to the crest and this is the view from there:
Yes, I really do live here.

I really do live in the middle of nowhere – somewhat.  Within less than an hour I can get to a train station, international airport, and a large metropolis.  I spent just about the same amount of time getting to the grocery store as I did when I lived in Chicago, except I’m not sitting in traffic. I’m close enough to things I want, but far enough away from the riff-raff that fills our lives  Oh, and when I say riff-raff I mean the junk we can live without such as fast food drive thrus, Glee, 50 Shades of something or another, and anything vampire related.  It’s out there, but where we live makes it easier to block out; it’s not at my doorstep daily.  When we return to Chicago each Christmas, I absolutely love indulging myself and find that calling for a pizza is much quicker and easier than making one, but I find the distance has given me some space to reflect.  These are indulgences, and should stay that way.  Everyone talks about “getting away from it all”, but I don’t really see anyone really doing it.  Getting away from the riff-raff can really do a lot for a person.  You should try it; I highly recommend it.  The whole “unplug” thing really goes a long way.  I know, it’s a bit hypocrite coming from someone who writes a blog, but I don’t walk around texting on my cell phone.  In fact, I don’t own one.  The mountains in Southern France might not be the place for everyone, but the point is to drop the junk that really isn’t important; look around and take inventory of what’s out there.

Sometimes, I struggle living where I do: I’m far from family, French is not my native language, and my employment opportunities are limited.  But, sometimes, when I’m given a view like this I’m reminded of all the good I have and why I could care less about vampires.

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