I lived in Ireland until I was 18, then in Scotland till I was 22, a stint in London was followed by 13 years in Shropshire and now I have been in France for nearly 11 years. I know it's not much compared to many people's peregrinations but it does rather confuse the issue of where home is. Well, not really - home is where I happen to be at the time I suppose.
There are many people in our village whose families have called it home for over 400 years. If you're an incomer you stay an incomer! People from other parts of France who have settled here are regarded as being almost as foreign as us. Less exotic but still foreign!
The letter in the photo was delivered the other day. A matter of interest to the community had been written on the outside of an envelope by our postwoman - the death of the village doyenne.
Being thought to merit that news made me feel as if maybe I do belong here - at least a little.
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