What do you do all day without a job and a car?
People are still asking, and the answer is still evolving. I’m always amused at the question. As if one would waste away into nothing without the job to fill up every available minute and the car to run on constant errands.
View from our bedroom this morning.
Anyone who has worked frantic hours knows: time to be bored is a luxury. I tend to be busy doing things I never had the chance to do before, but the truth is, I’ve also learned to treasure odd moments of boredom and uncertainty. They are the hallmark of the new life we’ve chosen.
In the morning, I get up at 5:30 AM with DH, have breakfast with him, make sure he has his lunch and see him off. Then I turn my sourdough starter into dough again and leave today’s bread for its long first rise. The downstairs neighbors are still sleeping. I work on my blog or my novel for a few hours.
By 8 AM I can be sure the neighbors are up. I can move furniture, clang dishes and run water down the ancient pipes, so I begin to clean. My home is spotless–it’s a luxury I allow myself. If you’ve ever lived through a period of scarcity of time, you’ll know what it feels like to choose between making dinner, cleaning, or going to bed to sleep off your exhaustion. I suppose in some ways, I’m like a person who has lived through a time of scarcity of food–I will never forget. I will tell my children and grandchildren.
The staircase from the fourth floor.
Sometime in the mid-morning, I head down the spiraling staircase of our stone building. On this particular day I have three errands to run: I need to drop off my recycling, get some cash and mail a letter. I take the long way, as usual, which brings me past fountains that I can hear out my window on summer nights and the old lavoir where the town’s people used to wash their clothes by hand. I wonder what it must have been like to live in a time when laundry day was a village event–like bake day.
The old lavoir.
Before lunch time, I prep tonight’s dinner, so there’s nothing left to do this evening but heat it up. I ‘fold’ my sourdough and prep it for a second rise. Then I heat some pumpkin soup for lunch. Afterward, I take a short break with a cup of coffee and do a little reading–yes, I have access to books here in English and French, but more importantly, I have time to read. After the second rise, I pop my bread in the oven. While it bakes I do a little yoga or meditate.
The warmest spot in our home.
Once the bread has finished baking, I park a chair between the warm oven and the sunny kitchen window and study for the driving test–an ongoing process that people complain about bitterly here. I could work myself up in anger over the inefficiency of life in France and the bureaucracy, but when you’ve chosen to live in a country, you tend to be forgiving of the downsides of life as well.
The bus I'll take into town.
In the afternoon, I take a bus to Aix-en-Provence. I have a meeting with a counselor at a government agency who is helping me work out a plan for a small business that I hope to start in the new year. As I wait for the bus on the return trip home, I wander around the city and remember why I choose to live in the countryside. This is a nice part of town, but I can’t imagine living in a neighborhood of apartments stacked on top of each other as far as the eye can see.
Why paying more to live in the city isn't for us.
I return home on the bus. It takes less time than it would to do the drive and find a place to park. I’m home just at sunset. I pop dinner in the oven. DH will be home soon and we’ll catch up, have dinner and spend a quiet evening together.
Tracy! Hello–yes I am TL Black–but you can call me Trish. It’s good to re-meet you! Actually, of all the people I blog with, I think you’re the one who lives nearest to me (outside Aix-en Provence). If I remember right, you have your own small business in Spain right? I may very well write you and get ideas. There is a wealth of ideas of ‘expats’ out there–I researched it before I moved but a lot of it is targeted to people going overseas with one big salary–not for people trying to simplify or live on less. I look forward to seeing you around. It’s nice to have someone in the same time zone 
This sounds like a great life. I would love to be in your shoes (except the France thing, I have never wanted to go to France, maybe I could move to Greece and have this same kind of life). My kids would not like it to much, but it sounds so quiet and romantic. Don’t get me wrong I love my city home, but I would love to slow down more. Something I am working on in the new year. I have a couple of goals. Buy nothing new (except food) for 1 year. Barter more, say no way more often. And live the life I love.
Enjoy your simple life in France.
Tree–Greece sounds fabulous. I’ve never been, but I have this mental image of it. I’d love to hear more about your simple journey–wherever you decide to take it.
Sounds wonderful! I’d love to be able to hop on a bus to Aix-en-Provence!
Your circular staircase reminds me of the one we had in Paris — a 16th century building, or Louis XIV as they say. So cute, but tough with babies and groceries.
I remember when we first moved to France having to adjust to the “work-to-live” mentality as opposed to the American “live-to-work” one. At first I complained about stores being closed on Sunday, and the lack of 24-hour grocery, but by the time I left I had really changed my mind. During that time, I was not “working” — but raising my daughter, which really helped me slow down and start to savor life. As a newspaper reporter, slowing down had not been my strength.
Living in France really opened my eyes to the idea of enjoying life and not feeling guilty for not working myself to exhaustion to earn lots of money to buy lots of stuff.
I agree with the sentiment, which I think you expressed in another post, that there is so much value in creating a good home: clean, organized, harmonious, filled with good food and relaxed people.
Now that I am home with small children, I am well aware of the “scarcity of time” you write about. I often wonder how anyone (especially with kids) works a 40+ hour job. But of course you can, it just means you have to pay other people to do those “home” jobs for you — look after your kids, clean, cook etc. (or do less than a thorough job) at least that’s what it would mean for me.
Good luck with your business plan! I look forward to reading about it.
Agnes, it’s great to hear from someone who’s gone through the same thing. I know what you mean about the job AND the kids thing. That’s not for me. DH and I have always wanted kids, but not under the circumstances we were in in the US. I was so stressed out, I would have been one of those crazed frantic moms–why bother. But yeah, I know some people do it and seem to pull it off.
I love the pictures of the rooftop, stair case and old lavoir. Thanks for sharing what your day looks like. With this post, I could really visualize it.
Great! That was the idea. Thanks for letting me know what’s working!
Your days sound wonderful. Very pleased to find your blog
Laura, welcome and actually, I’m pleased to find YOUR blog. I’ve just quickly visited it, but will take some time later to look through. You have some fun ideas on there. I hope to see you around the blog.
I’ve always dreamed about living in Europe, especially somewhere in the French countryside. I think you live a wonderful daily life. I’m sure there are moments when when you wish for a change like we all do but at the end of the day, I’m sure you feel absolute contentment…especially when you have a fresh loaf of bread to dig into! I’m hoping to get their one day!
Thomas–you know, I actually do feel very content. It’s a new feeling and I like it. It doesn’t matter if I’ve had frustrations or hard work during the day. I often feel content. But your farm/garden experience probably provides you with a lot of contentment as well doesn’t it? That sounds amazing too.
Hi. Sounds like a great start to a new life, we did the same just over three years ago . We are in Portugal, and love our tranquil life.
My husband found this blog and sent it to me. I lived in Turkey many years ago. I walked up and down a similar staircase many times but to the 7th floor. We did have a “closet” size elevator but it was broken most of the time and a bit scary. But living on the economy there was something I would like to share with my husband. He is a few years older than me and talking about retirement is a bit scary for me. We have began to simplify just due to the economy as there isn’t a lot of need for my career right now. (Realtor) So, he takes care of me and I stay home. Our economic footprint has never been huge (thankgoodness) but we are whittling it down. He has thought of the RV life but my vision I suppose is more of a year or two in France, then Spain and so on experiencing culture. I don’t know what the future holds for us but the thought of you out there makes it a possible dream.
BTW, did you learn your french through your husband or just by immersion?
Hello,
You’re tlblack, right? I’m the one who lives in Barcelona; feel free to write. Great post; it’s so interesting to see how people ’spend’ their days when they have embarked on a new and different lifestyle. Laundry day must have been great for catching up on the latest news. Those little touches of ‘community’ that we lost long ago…