A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss

Remember when I told you I had a big secret that I didn’t want to jinx before it was finalized. Well, today it was finalized. Are you ready?

We Are Moving To Provence!!!

Can you even believe it? I have been working on this for over a year. My love of Provence is well documented in previous blogs. Click HERE to read. I have been looking, researching and wishing. I have probably looked at 4 billion houses but none of them worked out until…

Until my friend Heather from Lost in Arles blog sent me a listing of a house smack dab in the middle of Provence. It was perfect, reminded me of Santa Barbara, a great price with a pool. We made an offer immediately but unfortunately a local family also wanted the house, so they won. I was devastated and was ready to pitch the biggest crybaby fit, but for some reason I stayed calm. The real estate agency informed us that there was another house that was going to be available. She sent us the photos and by picture number 2, we were all in. This house was even better. Luckily, the owners accepted our offer and we signed the lease this morning.

We move on Sunday. Au revoir, Paris. Provence, here I come.

 My new slice of heaven.

Now because if you read my blog you know I like to talk houses and I assume you do as well. This house is called a mas, a farmhouse. It is all stone with big French blue shutters. There is a big terrace, a pool and views of the Alpilles Mountains (whatever those are). Just what this sick girl needs. Remember, Vincent van Gogh went to Provence to “recover” so I will be in good company. Paris is lovely but I need to be in nature. I need to see trees, hear birds, feel the sunshine and smell the lavender… And adopt a big fat dog. I need to connect to the earth. That and a few green juices should keep me alive.

 

Chez Decret

 

 

I also thought it would be fun if we (my blog readers and I)  all had a new adventure, new surroundings. I am looking forward to discovering every inch of Provence from the restaurants, the farmers markets, the flea markets, the churches, the countryside and the people. Speaking of people, I am interviewing for my new Provence friends. You can pick up an application at any café. Qualifications must include a sense of humor and three references. That’s it. However, if you are a super crabby old school Provençal farmer with an olive grove and chickens, please apply because I like you already. Seriously though, email me if you want a new friend. I am really friendly, my husband is not and neither is my daughter but that’s okay because I have enough personality for both of them. I will invite you to barbecues, movie nights and pool parties.

How did I do all of this? How did I manage to get myself to Provence? I’ll tell you the truth… My sweet friend Ally Hilfiger told me that I should make a mood board and that I should manifest my destiny. I did just that. I cut out and glued pictures of Provence directly across from my bed so that I could see it every day. Provence was never out of my sight. Guess what? It worked. I never gave up hope. It wasn’t easy to convince my husband. He works in Paris, we have a beautiful apartment and Provence was for vacation, not real life. Finally, bit by bit, he started to see the light. He knew it was best for me. Paris is no place for a sick girl. He knew that I needed to get back to the sunshine.

So here we are, our apartment is all packed, my caregivers are ready for the move, Gracie will stay in Paris to finish school and we leave on Sunday. Relax, Grace will be fine. I have hovered enough. Time to slow down and enjoy life. Sorry Paris, no hard feelings.

Are you guys ready for our new adventure!!!