There must be more than this provincial life. . .

Yep, that’s my laundry hanging out on the line. Honestly, I feel like I’m taking a step back in time every single time I do my laundry here! It’s not too bad for the big stuff, but every little pair of my girls’ socks and undies gets to be a little bit time consuming. I also don’t mind line drying for things that are supposed to be a little crisp, like sheets, for example. But I miss how soft my shirts used to feel, how lint-free my towels used to be, and how quickly I could do a large load of laundry start to finish back home.

Some people have asked to see a few pictures of this house before we move, since none of you will ever visit while we live in Mandelieu. It’s really cute, but small, and every house around here is gated and fenced. The French seem to demand privacy whenever possible. I hear my next door neighbors on each side every day, and I know they have kids, but I have never seen them. I don’t know how missionaries could ever tract here—they couldn’t access anyone’s front door. Helps with solicitors at least.

This is our front gate. It says "Villa Modesty" if you can't read it.

Once you go inside the gate, there's a long driveway of white gravel to the garage. This photo is the view of the back of the gate while I'm standing in front of our garage. 

 Here's the front view of our house and pool.

Here is our gigantic garage--our car barely fits in it.

 Here's where we have dinner outside most nights:

And here's our quite expansive back "yard:"

















Here's the only inside shot I included of the kitchen:













See, now it's like you've all visited me already and you know exactly where I live!  I'll keep telling myself that as I keep missing everyone. . .