My French Carrot: a House in France

This pituresque well is conviently located outside our front door - some plumbing would be a desirable addition*.

April 30 has passed and I still haven't received the house plans to submit to the local mairie. The charm of living in a 18th century house will definitely lose its appeal if I have to also live like an 18th century woman! I need a French carrot to help keep me afloat at work - if only something were happening at  My French Folly. 

Midlife is a curious state - on the one hand I have become more pragmatic and philosphical and on the other,  less tolerant to specific behaviours.  There appears to be peripheral rot that is creeping into my profession. ……friendship cliques within the staff (it is not what you know, it is who you know) ……… the increasing popular belief that the universe is centred around individuals who are not responsible for their own decisions or actions, if they don't have the desired outcomes. 

I acknowledge that it is the 80% - 20% principle, and in reality it is more like 98% of those whom I deal with are fine and the other 2% cause grief, but some how the trouble they generate makes it feel as if the ratio is reversed.  However,  in general I love my career and the community in which I work …... it is just that I don’t bounce back from negative incidents very easily in my "middle" years. I have a dream, a miniscule budget to make My French Folly habitable and midlife hormonal mayhem.....

* Photograph of our house by D Laurent