Longing for the Languedoc

This is the view I hope to be gazing at in February should the husband get leave:

A tiny hamlet in the Languedoc: Tudery. A house called La Roque.    
This will be the third time that we go to this region.  Boring, I know...  But I LOVE it there:  the arid climate, rocks everywhere, not too many tourists, the quiet is simply sublime. 

We will rent the house from a Dutch couple who were clever enough to leave this wet & overcrowded corner of the globe for better things.  Their business is called MidiMaison.  They have a number of homes that they rent out for reasonable prices.  The houses are unique, beautifully furnished and clean.  I read an article about them many years ago and have been dreaming of going there ever since. 

My favourite so far is L'Amandier  in the hamlet of Cazo.  If I won the lottery today, THAT is the home I would go to.  I love it.  It's where I'm meant to be.  

Now we're crossing all fingers, toes, limbs and whatever else is foldable on my body that the husband will get leave for the holiday.  

Will start brushing up on my French in the meantime.


Sigh.

Pregnant woman (nearly) mauled by vicious dogs

I could see the headlines already:  Pregnant woman attacked and killed by pack of dogs.  But then in French, as this took place in France, you see.

We were on holiday in the South of France in a tiny hamlet called Cazo (but I'll tell you more about that at a later stage), pregnant with Son#3. The husband took Thing 1 and Thing 2 for a walk in the vineyards (doesn't that just sound too idyllic?), and I stayed at the holiday home (more about that later too). 

After a while I thought I might go look for them.  Lots of deep wells dotted all over the Languedoc, not really the kind of countryside where you can let the kids run and roam freely as you never know if they do a drop & disappear down some old, deep well.  Same goes for the husband.

Just after I left the house, a pack of Collies stormed down the dusty road all barking and frenzied.  In a panic, I picked up a rock.  But then the thought entered my mind that there were about 10 dogs, and my athletic history proves that I probably wouldn't take out all 10 dogs with just one rock.  Other measures were needed.    


All I could think of was the Supernanny, Jo Frost, and her Voice of Authority that you are supposed to use with your kids to get them to do what you want (easier said than done).


WIth a swift 'Arret!' (because you have to speak French to French dogs, they also refuse to speak English), calm was magically restored and I even went for a walk down the dusty road with all 10 dogs happily following their new leader (that would be me).  It was a modern-day miracle. I might just alert the Catholic Church:  Saint Yo, herder of dogs.

Just goes to show what a bit of confidence (and a deep voice) can do.


Now to apply this to my kids...