After some 40 years living in rural France, land and woodland in the deepest Dordogne I am gradually coming to the conclusion that one cannot own -in the proper sense of the word - land in France.
This latest support to my theory is (I think) quite funny. Half of the land I 'own' ( as widow woman)is deeply wooded land - the rest is scrub pasture that needs to be mowed by humans and shit fertilised by four legged domestic animals of some kind.
My most recent employee (Dutch like me, with blue eyes to die for) is in charge of both fields and woodlands. He uses chain-saws, electrical log splitters, 'my' tractor for transporting it all which I appreciate.....Then we sit side by side at the long kitchen table as we discuss things and scabble notes onpaper. He says his litle prayer, thinks of his childrem
Today, as I opened my eyes I found him sitting at the head of my table...looking at me with those blue eyes...I shut my brain down very quickly....
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