Dolly's Blog: In search of the simple life

Back to school.  New term resolutions abound and holiday memories sustain us.

We wrapped up the Summer in Brittany, living the three small children and not enough money cliché of a cheap(ish) ferry holiday.  For us it’s a winning formula; shove everything into a car without worrying about baggage allowances and smuggle back large quantities of Carrefour goodies under the banner of “saving money”.   I kid myself the children will learn French and complete beautiful holiday diaries to show their teachers (never happens).  We all wear Bretton tops because we are officially “on holiday” so who cares if, en masse, we look like a herd of zebra.  

Unfortunately this holiday got off to the mother of all bad starts when, on our first (and as it transpired last) trip to the beach, we lost our three year old.  It was the classic look away for a few seconds and he’s gone scenario, mercifully with a happy ending but only after thirty minutes of gut-wrenching fear.

That night, back at our gite, I seriously felt like I’d earned my glass of plonk-de-plonk.  Tranquilised still further by a steak supper and tripping on hallucinogenic cheese, I sat under the pergola reflecting on life.  I watched the stars come out, serenaded by a Gallic choir of crickets, owls and the odd chien rustique  In the manner of Kung Fu Panda, I had found inner peace.

But the list-making, alphabetised music collection, property programme obsessive part of me couldn’t simply relish this glorious moment.  Oh no.  Surely a gite of our own, a gite we could truly call home, “la Maison Dolly”, would be the ultimate antidote to city stresses?  “Think of the horror of doing a French tax return” says what remains of my rational brain.  “But the Euro exchange rate is so good right now – it would practically be free!” counters another (slightly sloshed) inner voice.  Optimistically glossing over the funding challenge, detailed planning and four viewings consume much of the remaining holiday.

Back home, overwhelmed by work, admin and homework (SO MUCH HOMEWORK!), dreams of foreign property ownership seem laughable.  Although not quite remote enough to break my Rightmove France habit.  Non-carcinogenic at least – and less fattening than cheese.

Dolly is an employment lawyer and partner in a London firm.  Currently working four days a week, theoretically between the hours of 9 and 5 in the manner of Dolly Parton (but with less impressive hair and reduced scope for rhinestone).  Full time wife, mother of three lovely children aged three to seven and devoted dog owner.