Provence calling

5 days before the movers came to put all us stuff in boxes (very badly it would turn out later), Marc and I were in a tile store in Luxembourg. We were looking at some tiles that I had found there a couple of days before that could be ordered in North America and delivered to our contractor.

We were going to knock down the wall between our living room/dining room and the kitchen for an open concept. The logic behind this was that in an 1,100 sq foot house, you don't need two eating areas.

Before I even got a chance to show Marc the tiles, his Blackberry rang. And he talked for at least 10 minutes.

Once he hung up, he told me it was a company he dealt with regularly - based in Aix-en-Provence. Offering him a job. In Aix.

Being me I completely wigged out. We can't do this! I said, We have movers coming in 5 days!!!!

All plans for the tiles and wall removal were abandoned.

The ironic thing was that in April the company had offered an employee (and good friend) of Marc's the job - his #2 in fact. G wasn't interested, but I was all over it - telling Marc if G was qualified for the job, he was even more so. Looking up houses on the internet - I was all set to become a French resident. Use lots of herbs and tomatoes when cooking. Plant lots of lavender (who am I kidding, it was probably already planted). Drink Pastis if necessary. Complain if my husband worked more than 35 hours a week. Live in a Mas.

Somehow we never did anything about it. I really can't remember why. I think it had something to do with the thought of moving and not being any closer to home, closer to family, closer to support. Having to start all over again, from scratch. That and the mistrals?

And so here we are, home. 3 months in today.

The job offer is still on the table - the only one that is to be honest. Both Marc and I are a little shocked at how little response he's had to all the jobs he's applied for. We never imagined that he would have such a hard time getting an interview - let alone a job. With his consulting contract almost done, it's starting to be a bit worrisome. The job offer that was made by a company out West that was based on financing that was supposedly a sure thing (by the end of the summer)- no word.

He had put together a proposal to consult from here for the company in Provence - not full-time, but some of the tasks that could be done remotely. They seemed really interested. I magnanimously said we could spend summers in Aix so that he could work from the company's office (yeah I know, how hard would that be on me eh?).

They decided against it this week. The news was a blow, on top of the snow. But apparently the job offer is still open.

I have to admit that I actually started considering it this week. The weather was awful - too early in the winter for this. And with the exception of being closer to my mum which has been great, coming home has not been all I was hoping for. It's been hard - and not just missing croissants and fine cheeses at prices that won't bankrupt you. The point that is a deal breaker for me is that Marc would be expected to travel every second week. I did some calculations and worked out that it would be 120 days a year - or a 1/3 of the year. Not good.

We haven't had much luck in the friend department - the few friends we have seen are busy - understandable, they have made lives for themselves over the last 8 years. It's not that they aren't happy we're home, they're just busy, as are most folks with young families and often two careers. Other friends, who I have called to suggest getting together are inevitably thrilled that we are back and we talk for ages on the phone - only to agree that they will check their schedules for the next few weeks and get back to me to make plans. Calls that have yet to come. I know it's not personal - these friends have no clue how hard it is to move back somewhere, how lonely it can be. And while we're starting to make new friends, it's a bit like dating - sometimes you want to hang out with that person who's known you for years, the one you don't have to gauge reactions with.

Last night I was lying in bed with Stu and we had the laptop out. I showed him pictures of himself taken in the month before Julia was born (when we got a digital camera). He was so tiny! Then the pictures of Julia as a newborn and the first few months of her life - and colic.

Then suddenly - how could I have forgotten they would be there - the pictures of our vacation to Provence with my Mum when Julia was 4 months old. I had forgotten how beautiful it was. We stayed about an hour from Aix and only spent a day there, but we took a lot of pictures. A lot of beautiful pictures. A lot of happy smiling pictures on a bright sunny day.

I know it's not reasonable. I know that we haven't given this Canadian return enough time. That I can't run away at the first snow storm. That every 2nd week of being alone with the kid would do me in so far from my mum.

But that doesn't mean it's not tempting.