What now? Or, some questions on the future along with a few pictures.

At some point, you signed-up to this email newsletter or logged onto the website in the hopes of hearing and seeing more about the little house in southern Normandy known as La Bucherie. Sorry for the disappointment. I’ve grown disillusioned of late with writing generally, and in talking about the work I’m doing with the house, particularly. I guess, in many ways, it just seems so…last year. I’m over it. I’m over talking about it. That’s not to say things aren’t happening. They are. Big things. Tons of earth and stone, walls are going up, gravel is going down. And in fact, the transformation outside is reaching some sort of parity with that wrought indoors. I’m enjoying that immensely.

So, it is time, I think, to rethink this little newsletter and website. But how? The world doesn’t need another ‘American in France’ production. That feels so…last decade.

Deep social commentary is kind of out as well. I live in a backwater of French culture, at least of the interesting and au fait sort. My observations, while potentially interesting to three or four people, don’t have a lot to offer. Not even to the person writing them down.

Cooking in France? Sigh. Really, I’ve no interest in replowing what is, in fact, a pretty sterile field. Yes, French food is good, sometimes very, very good. But not, really, something one realizes after spending a lot of time here, transcendent, and certainly not something I need to pretend regularly to wax ecstatic about. Lots and lots of people are doing that. Some, even well.

A diary of sorts? Sure, but in the end, it’s a story of country house in the country. Yes, perhaps with a particular perspective, but still.

I don’t have the answer. I’ve been reading a lot of Montaigne recently, so you’re stuck with me just asking some questions as I sit down to think about this. But, what I can say is that there will be something. Something that I hope is actually interesting, to you and to me. Something that isn’t France porn, something that is a little more real, more representative of this particular time and place.

I know that this might not be what you want. So, here’s your chance to unsubscribe, or delete your bookmark, or whatever.

Until that new thing, in the new year, arrives, I leave you with some pictures and some commentary. A memento labori.