A Note From France

Bonjour love,

It’s been a week since I said goodbye to my mother and brothers and moved to France with my husband.

I don’t regret it for a second. But leaving home to build both your marriage and your dream career comes with a kind of bittersweetness that’s difficult to put into words.

What I wasn’t expecting was the exhaustion.

Not the kind that disappears after one good night’s sleep. The kind that settles somewhere much deeper.

I always forget how long it takes me to adjust to life here. Two or three weeks, at least.

There’s something about France that completely softens my nervous system.

Maybe it’s the soft light, the birds in the morning, the smell of summer rain, fresh bread, or the old wooden buildings…

France is like morphine to me.

Or perhaps a very strong intravenous sedative.

At the moment, my biggest first-world problem is fighting the urge to take enormous afternoon naps when I have far too much work to do.

I’m rambling.

But before I go, I wanted to ask you something.

How would you feel about a new series of romantic date-night recipes? Or ideas to make your relationship feel new again?

I’ve been working on something for Instagram, and I have a feeling you’re going to love it.

Warmly,
Sabrina