Ferme St. Pierre has welcomed me with open arms. I would find it difficult to describe a place more suited to my present goals and desires. I'm speaking French all the time, except for the times when I'm speaking English with my Canadian little brother Robert. I'm given enough latitude working to feel like I know what I'm doing. And finally, the food is consistently outstanding. I'm in the real Provence now, the little garlic press is at the dinner table next to the pepper mill.
The most extensive job in progress is the preparation for two yurts arriving directly from Mongolia. My lovely hosts, Carina and Berté, make their living primarily through the clients that come for vacation or horsemanship. The addition of the yurts will be sensational, if somewhat bizarre new accommodations. There will be a few modern amenities within, such as a wall outlet. In the above picture Berté, Kaci, and Robert are getting things done while I document.
Here I am, ready for the pour.
Quite mercifully, the cement, mixer, and sand were uphill from the pad, so once mixed we took turns reining in the slow slosh of cement splashing in the wheelbarrow sliding down the slope.
