About the Ebook
With equal doses of excitement and trepidation, my husband, three children and I casually unzipped and discarded our comfortable Australian lifestyle and slipped on life in the country of haute couture. On arrival, there was no celebrity designer waiting for us, ready to pin and fit our new life to us; so we threw it on and wore it loosely, tightly, uncomfortably, any old how—until we learned for ourselves how to trim, hem and stitch à la française. This book is testament to the joyous, but not always easy, journey that we took along the way.
It got to me. Living in France was supposed to have a beginning and an end. It nearly did have an end in a way that I could never have imagined, but now it can’t. I belong amidst the bewildering complexities and incongruences of French life, and wherever I am, for as long as I am, this will not change. Nothing from my Australian upbringing pre-supposed this French fascination. My first steps in the language were coincidental, and it was probably luck that saw one of the young, groovy teachers allocated to my beginner’s French class at school. I enjoyed writing, but was gently encouraged into maths and science subjects, where non-essential creative writing was relegated. Thereafter, I adopted an academic approach to getting through an undergraduate degree, teaching diplomas and a master’s degree in education. Despite these intervening diversions, my French obsession remained present and it was only natural that when my own children were old enough that we head to France.