This has never happened in the few years we’ve been here, but the Internet has left the building. It’s gone, gone like sunshine before the month of may. I noticed its absence, but haven’t missed it much because I’m forty with four, young children, a herd a cattle, a farm to help run and lots of set-up or pick-up work to get done. The Internet has always been by my side while I do and not do my work. When it’s no longer there, I’m not upset or grumpy or wanky-righteous ( UGWR, Myers-Briggs rating ). I’m alone. I’m all by myself here in France with my family. Our farm. Our crazy renters in the villa. And our cows. And my cowboy. The cats. Tosca. The chickens. Okay, so not so alone, but the work I do continues, like always, and you don’t know about it. Though you could should you pop over for a chat and some beef. Mr. Green is on, a glass of wine poured, book open, actually what’s this “Internet” you speak of? Now if we can guess the next few days of weather, we can work out our work plan. The Internet is great and all, but when it’s gone, wake up, look around and say “hey-yeah” to the real people directly around you. Despite what the interwebs say, this – these people around you – is called your ” community.” You might learn something. Or you might learn nothing. Or you might learn that you may or may not want to be living directly near your neighbors should the interwebs partir.
Our cellphone coverage is poor, so I’m standing in the middle of this field. It’s gorgeous and yes, it’s making sounds.
The worms are munching, the water is being absorbed, the crazy renters are gardening, the chainsaw in the distance is zibbing, the giant flock of birds are zigging, the camion is zagging ( must be the wine with lunch ), the geese are squawking and that gunshot? Yeah, I don’t know what that was. Things are right in our part of France. Though my fingers are now too cold to register taps on my broken iPhone. Good day to you all in cyberland!