Sitting at my desk, firmly committed to do absolutely nothing (New Year resolution, do the strict minimum for the Nazi bitch), I remembered something my dad's girlfriend said to him when he suggested settling in our little village. She was afraid that, should something happen, they would be left to their own devices, far from everything: hospitals, shops and all. So she would prefer living in a town.
But when I reflect on the last few weeks and on poor Fox's misfortunes, I realised how unfounded her concerns are. From the moment our troubles started there has been a spontaneous and generous rallying around us. Mooh was immediately taken in and cared for by Annie and Alistair during our time in Poitiers for Fox's operations (and anyone knowing Mooh will tell you, this is a feat of endurance looking after her), and let's not forgetting the numerous meals she cooked for us throughout that time, Stéphane, our lovely builder, lit a fire for us on both occasions so we could come back to a warm and cosy house, Marina and Philippe are picking up our laundry to dry it regularly and have dropped cooked meals as well so we could chill out a little. And a lot of people have popped in quickly, not wanting to intrude, to see if we were alright and to ask us to let them know should we need anything.
In a village anonymity is non-existent and privacy is difficult to keep and I know that sometimes I moan when people are popping by for coffee and a chat (often in groups!), and they do that a lot, particularly at meal times when you're about to eat (they must have a sixth sense, "Hey! Marie! They're cooking I can feel it! Quick, get the car!"), but if this is the trade off for being part of a community that cares for its members the way our little group does, then I'm all for it.
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