I am now eight days into the unrelenting fog. It is absolutely soul sucking. How do I continue to thrive you might wonder? The short answer is Sophie, phone calls with my loves, cocktail parties, dinner parties, gardening, laughter, and new friendships. Maybe that wasn’t a short answer after all.

November first is a bank holiday here in France. “All Saints Day” is marked by everyone placing mums at gravesites for relatives and friends and church bells signaling the end of a midday service. It seems more important here to people than our American “Memorial Day”. That may not be accurate but it is truly the day I see the most fellow residents out and about participating in this tradition.

Sophie and I are pushing through our wet walks and trying to keep a brave face. There has been no rain but the constant moisture in the air has left leaves wet and mud throughout our trail walks. Our clean ups after our walks are becoming an expected part of our routine. On Friday after our walk, I bathed, brushed and blow-dried Sophie. This was not because she is a diva but because she had turned into a mud mop that was shivering. Then, even though I was going out for drinks at a friends, I made a fire so she could more thoroughly warm up after the bath experience.

I worked hard in the garden and raked out the veggie patch, cut back the irises, mowed and removed more of that hideous Virginia Creeper. I revitalized my wreath and filled the house with berries, greens and flowers that I collected on my walks.