Life in Anjou

 (le chat above visits us almost every night via gutters)
We live on a third floor apartment, which is nice because we are the only ones up here but at the same time not nice because the steps are uneven and every time I make it to the top of the staircase I feel entirely out of shape. Thanks.


We had a brief scare about no Netflix or Pandora while here but I discovered a wonderful thing called a VPN, which essentially tricks the internet into thinking we’re still in the States and therefore everything’s ok. Until my laptop decided not to play nice with the internet, this is nothing new but annoying as I have to unplug and restart the router but have no idea where it is and our landlord isn’t in town until who knows when. Joy.



I now understand why the French wear everything twice. 

 The main thing I miss from the States at the moment? A dryer. Plus a washing machine that takes less than eight hours to clean clothes (you think I’m kidding, but I’m not) and doesn’t try to take your hand off when you open it (once again, not kidding). In order to dry our clothes in a successful manner Colton set up a clothesline in our hallway. Otherwise clothes hang on the bathtub (did I mention no shower? Yeah, don’t have one of those either), back of dining chairs, door knobs, shelves in bathroom, and dozens of socks on this towel warmer thing in the bathroom, and the window sills if we get desperate.

No dishwasher either, although that isn’t too bothersome and I had the pleasant surprise of discovering a toaster oven so I can actually bake if I want to, just in small quantities. However, we do have to watch how much we cook as we only have a mini fridge. Currently, leftover pinto beans, spaghetti, mashed potatoes, and pressure cooker chicken are sitting on the shelf, which means I can’t cook anymore till that’s all gone.
The weather, I suppose, should be touched upon. While packing, I focused on the fact we were spending the winter in North West France and that it would be cold. Given that I am essentially incapable of keeping myself warm naturally, I brought mainly warm clothing, with a few lighter things I wore during our stay in England. Imagine my surprise to spend the first week here in the humid 80s and 90s, with majority of my clothes suitable for this weather in a dirty laundry bag and at the time I had no idea how to use the washer. Now that the clothes are all washed, a cool front came in and the highs are now chilly 70s. And because Colton stays unreasonably warm, all the windows are open (we do have heaters here, however they do not believe in air conditioning).

And let’s not forget our neighborhood. It’s actually quite lovely; old buildings of course, and almost everything we need within walking distance. There’s a very interesting shop just 3 minutes from our door where I bought a cute brown messenger bag, they also sold a variety of hats, sunglasses, camouflage clothing, boots, and guns—was not expecting that in France. We’re also right next to a pub, and are neighbors with a man who enjoys playing techno music loudly at night (and according to Colton’s expertise, also plays Halo). I’m fairly certain we’re the only ones here that enjoy sleep, for when we got to bed around 10 or 11 at night, we can still hear singing, talking, and the techno; and before we’re ready to get up in the morning, you can hear everyone lively enjoying their breakfast.
We’re still getting settled. We haven’t figured out how many times we should go grocery shopping a week. I’m having to remind myself of the seven hour time difference between home and why people haven’t responded to my messages. But we both have decided we’re already tired of laundry.

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