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Welcome back and bienvenue to new subscribers – it’s lovely to have you here!

Did you miss an edition?! No, I did, desole - more below.

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Alethea x

Canicules, rural idylls & lovely guests

Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed I skipped an entire newsletter – my apologies if your inbox felt a little too quiet 🤣 Though I really do hate missing deadlines.

A little detour to the neurologist for the latest round of treatment for my brain injury (I wrote about it briefly, here) involved a lot of needles (I now have the scalp of a baby underneath my hair!) and a sobering reality check on recovery timelines. Combine that with some frequent, invisible, mediaeval-head-vice-style pain and my ‘operational capacity’ has been in one of the narrower troughs on the TBI recovery rollercoaster. Very tedious, but I’m back on track now…

Aside from that, over the past three weeks we’ve all been playing the canicule shutter-game in this region. With temperatures creeping just shy of 40 degrees on some days, and steadily in the mid-30’s for weeks, this is a heatwave that shows no sign of relenting. Frustratingly, our new aircon system still isn’t working properly. Cue some ongoing irritation with the clim enterprise.

Otherwise, since the last edition, it’s been relatively quiet here. Early morning dog walks along, and in, the river Ceou have become a daily joy fix for both me and Romy. I was able to see my great friend, A, briefly in-between appointments (always a huge tonic to see him), and also my lovely nephew, S (who gives the best hugs) 😃 My sister, A, visited and helped enormously doing lots of little fixes and picking fruit. There’s now a satisfying pile of jam jars, full and glowing! Very idyllic rural life vibes, haha, ⬇️ 

• Much like this surprise early morning sheep visit, see video.

Although idyllic, the countryside around here is not a great place to get lost. As everyone was reminded when our friend’s dog, Fred, went missing a few days ago. Cue a huge search effort, with people, drones and sniffer dogs - but, the undergrowth is so dense. 24 hours later it was only with immense luck he was found trapped in a badger den, alive and well. I expect dog GPS trackers all over the commune are being charged!

There are now only a couple of late Summer dates at La Petite Maison still available, view below or book ahead for next year : )

Some big news…

In 2026 Domaine Les Plonges (in its entirety) will be available for a limited number of weeks for exclusive private vacation rental. 

If you’d be interested in staying and would like to be notified of this limited availability, please register your interest via the button below.

Let’s talk renovation #2 | Occupational hazards

It’s not possible to encompass all the things I want to share about this renovation in one snapshot, hence this little series…!

No head for heights

Aside from a lack of practical know-how or skill, there’s one major stumbling block that would stop me retraining as an artisan in any capacity: a full-blown terror of heights. Regardless of metier, it seems that conquering heights comes with the territory on any building site.

Thanks to this height-phobia and the floor-saga (a wearing, expensive three-floor ordeal that delayed the entire renovation by months) the top floor was not my happy place and was out of self-imposed bounds for months. Between the exposed beams, the clear drop to the floor below, and the occasional OSB board masquerading as flooring, it was a firm no.

It was probably for the best as I would have only ended up in more height-induced embarrassment. Case in point: the time I froze halfway up a ladder trying to rescue my cat, Archie, who’d managed to get himself stuck in a chimney. Cue a (mortifying) double rescue: cat and human, courtesy of some hunky Brixton firemen (not all bad!). Less fun was the never-ending teasing from my friends and the infamous group photo featuring fire engines, firemen, a bemused cat, shaking owner, and the entire population of our street. Sadly, this was pre-digital / phone era and that legendary photo was lost to time.

There have been plenty of other memorable height-induced panics: the London Eye (I was the only one who couldn’t leave the centre part, with an actual floor); the giant tree structures, with a bounce (why?!) at Gardens by the Bay in Singapore; an actual zipline rescue in Costa Rica (super embarrassing); most recently being coaxed up the rickety steps to the fort at Roque Gageac by my patient godson (great view, but I will never do that again!) and perhaps most alarmingly, because I had to venture there often, the big multi-story car park in Den Haag 🤦‍♀️ The circular drive to the higher levels was designed with a terrifying no-edge edge, so it felt like you were about to drive off into the sky. It was all I could do not to close my eyes on that final turn while driving. Not ideal.

Fortunately, the charpentiers, electrician and plumbers appeared far more comfortable beam-hopping than I’ll ever be. And anyway, we could have perfectly functional (albeit, yelled) conversations through the non-existent floor.

So, it was probably a good thing I wasn’t there to witness the first fall through a ceiling. By all accounts, it was a close call. With broken bones and more serious injuries only averted thanks to a last-second grab at a beam. The result: an injured foot, bruised legs, arms and pride. The person in question having never fallen through a floor in their entire career. The Acme-style cartoon hole left behind served as a stark and slightly surreal reminder that building sites are, in fact, dangerous places.

Ceiling fall number two happened a few months later. This time between the main bedroom and dining room while that floor was being renovated. Again, and very luckily, the (different) man emerged with nothing worse than bruises. Though, alarmingly, he’d nearly crashed straight into the newly installed kitten sanctuary. After much swearing (understandably) and some noticeably more forceful hammering, it was decided that mother cat and kittens should be temporarily relocated to the pool house for the rest of the installation. Best for all!

Other hazards

The ceiling falls highlighted the plentiful opportunity for accidents at every turn. As far as I know, aside from the odd requirement for a plaster from the first aid kit, the only other major incidents involved wasps and one unforgettable case of finger-slicing.

The wasps were discovered inside an old section of plasterboard, and unsurprisingly, did not take kindly to being disturbed. The builder found himself under a full-scale aerial attack. Thankfully, my neighbour who’s also a nurse, rushed to help, and we quickly confirmed he wasn’t allergic. Just very stung.

But the finger-slicing was unpleasant. The blood! The team had been cutting plasterboard when the placardist somehow managed to slice part of his own finger off. He popped downstairs casually, if a little pale, and asked if we had any bandages on-site ‘for a cut’. When he unwrapped his handkerchief, the bone was clearly visible, the rest of the finger flapping loose. Blood loss was significant. No Elastoplast was going to fix that.

He was dispatched to hospital immediately. Insistent on driving himself, and the whole team, as he was also somehow the only one on the team with a licence. One unsliced hand on the wheel, cigarette balanced between bandage and non-sliced fingers. Incredibly, he was back within days, stitched up, arm in a sling. A few weeks later: no nerve damage and full use of the finger. Phew.

Hazards were everywhere across the renovation: submarine-sized fosse holes, trenches criss-crossing the site, an entire toy chest’s worth of heavy plant machinery roaming about, plus heavy-duty power tools, circular saws, welding kit, rooftop walkabouts, heights, drops…and, a certain French laissez-faire attitude to health and safety. 

All things considered - with 102 artisans trekking through the chantier over an 18 month period, one minor hospital visit, some near escapes and occasional raids of the first aid kit - it feels like we got off lightly.

More Snapshots of the Domaine Les Plonges ‘journey’ every edition. 

Possibly you found your way here via Instagram? @domainelesplonges? If so, an extra Bienvenue! You’ll already know I love a good visual. So here I’ll share others and a little more context behind the images…

Whether it’s discovering unique work by artists and designers from near and far or rummaging through vide greniers, brocantes, and hidden treasure troves, I’m always on the lookout! I’ll be sharing my favourite artists, designers and sourcing spots here 😄 

Good spots

This edition, as requested, I’m going to share some links! One of the things I love most about living in France, or anywhere, is going to local markets. France has a healthy upcycling attitude in general (no real surprise at the recent laws against Chinese fast fashion behemoth, Shein). So, here’s a selection of my favourite browsing spots:

1. Road-side signs! Yup, this is where you find those magic random vide-greniers. Keep an eye out!

2. Le Bon Coin – a French institution and while it can take some patience and searching, I always check here first.

3. Brocabrac and Videgrenier.org – both list almost all vide-grenier / brocantes across France (provided they’ve been given the info!) and you can search easily by location.

4. Deballage Le Mans – and others in Beziers, these tend to be for antique dealer’s only, although my understanding is: it’s not that hard to get a friend to get you a pass, or even to list part of your business interests as such so that you can attend. On my list to do.

5. Auction houses – in particular, Interencheres, which lists all auctions in France. You can bid online or attend in person.

6. Selency – sometimes overblown, but in my experience, I’ve found some reasonable and interesting items via this site. It’s similar to Catawiki (beloved of NL friends).

7. Debarrastout – very local, a house clearance place. There’s a lot of junk but always some gems, you just have to look!

8. Proantic – more for antiques dealers, but a good starting point.

9. The big annual fairs – such as the big bi-annual fairs at L’Isle sur la Sorgue or the Braderie de Lille.

10. Vinted – their home section is the quiet sister to fashion, and full of interesting finds.

I’m sure I’ve missed some, but I’ll add more later! And if you have any recommendations, please do share.

How do we know when a lot is actually, a lot?

It’s a question I’ve been contemplating a lot (!) recently. I’m used to going at full pelt, with everything. Taking a step back feels unfamiliar, even uncomfortable, and often frustrating. But… it’s also made me take a breath and dare I say it, look at things differently. 

My typical everyday to-do list is always enormous. I don’t switch-off easily. There’s a constant sense that there’s more to do, more to plan, more to sort. And possibly that needs addressing! 

So, my question to you is: 

• How do you know when a lot is… too much? And what do you do to address it?

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1. Safety - it helps me know who’s reading.

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