This was a birthday present. I have long harboured the idea of moving to the french countryside. Here’s the blurb …
At the school gate, when she accidentally kissed one new friend on the nose and called another a ‘beautiful man-horse’, Rachael realised that small-town France could hardly be more different to beach-side Australia. The smell of cigarettes replaced the tang of bone-broth and sprouted sourdough, the neighbours sometimes came to blows and under no circumstances would anyone wear activewear in public. Ever.
Muddling through every interaction in terrible French pushed Rachael’s family to their limits. Some days, everybody cried and ate their feelings with almond croissants. But the town of Sommières embraced these ragtag Australians, and the family fell in love with their temporary hometown and its outrageous gossip, cobblestoned beauty and kind, eccentric inhabitants.
Pardon My French is a candid, hilarious love letter to family life and France with three valuable lessons for overcoming adversity: make home a beautiful nest, lean into the tough lessons and look for the comedy in everything.
This book is funny and interesting (and it’s definitely not the Instagram only parts of the year). It also seemed incredibly hard and I am not sure I would have been able to subject my children to it. I am not one who values experience over enjoyment.
There are many laugh out loud moments (usually involving language misunderstandings) and I was interested in the french educational system compared to Australia – two hours for lunch and you can go home – although I guess that just makes the school day longer?
I also enjoyed her musings on parenting and how she and Keith managed the various needs to their three children.