A Cariad Life

Since we opened in mid-January, we have had about 200 guests, and when I consider that this B&B has been running for 12 years before Darrell and I purchased it, I realize that this home, in that entire time, has sheltered thousands of guests. (Literally, if each year there were just 500 guests, that would equate to 6000 people.) That is thousands of baths/showers, thousands that have slept in our four main rooms, and thousands who have eaten in our dining room or courtyard. (This doesn’t even count the people who have lived here for the almost 200 years since it was built.) Most houses never experience that volume of guests or the variety of experiences, stories, and backgrounds these guests bring with them.

We have guests who stay with us for all types of reasons–work, trainings, funerals, weddings, and family get-togethers. These past two weeks we have had four different guests with infants (glad those days are done:) They are travelers coming and heading from every direction and they are tourists from all over Europe–exploring the beautiful Dordogne. Sometimes they arrive exhausted; they are often hungry, and they all seem happy to finally rest for a bit at Repos (French for “rest”).

Some of our more recent guests have been here to house hunt, and we have been their stop at various points of this journey–we had a couple here for 9 days, who just wanted to see if a move to France made sense at this point in their older adult lives. We have had other couples who are actively looking at properties for the first time–with an estate agent. They have seen the pictures and now want to see what the homes are like in person. We’ve also had couples at the tail-end of the house hunt–they’ve seen more properties than they can count and just want to make an offer on a place they love. We’ve been able to connect with all of them as we too were once making the decision to buy a house in France, but there is one thing that makes Darrell and me different (well, two, if you count that we are American–we still haven’t met American house hunters yet, go figure!) The one characteristic that makes us different and is somewhat bewildering (and a bit admired by our guests) is that we only looked at one property, this one, when we decided to buy. We never visited one other property for sale in France–I guess that means that we were not really house hunters at all.

When I share this fact with our house hunter guests they somewhat understand it in that the more choices one has, the more confusing it is to make a decision. You’re always wondering if there is something else better around the corner. You tell yourself, this is a big decision, and I need to be absolutely sure I am making the right one. So…the hunt is on for the perfect house, in the perfect neighborhood, with the perfect village (close to everything, but far enough away that you can’t see neighbors). What starts out as a beautiful, fun dream is constantly compared to what you see with your estate agent–some of it matches, but some of it doesn’t, so you keep looking for the best match. We’ve met people who have been looking for years. Sadly, when they do finally settle on a place, it’s already been sold and they start the process over–how frustrating!

I really get the dilemma of wanting to choose the perfect place, and I also know that somewhere along the way I learned to make a choice early and quickly, and invest in it–not look back and wonder, “what if?” I am not sure if this is an admirable quality (maybe it is a bit reckless for some.) Darrell and I married young; we had just turned 23, but I knew he was the one at 19. I didn’t need to go out and date a bunch of other people to be sure. I knew he wasn’t perfect, neither was I, but it was clear he was a “diamond.” Interestingly, our oldest son, also 22 years old, is marrying his first girlfriend in early October. He is absolutely sure of this decision, and we didn’t try to talk him out of it. If you know, you know. So how do you know? How do you know you’re not making a mistake? I think first, I reconcile with myself that there is no “perfect”–there is a choice and it will have good and bad, but is it the right choice for me? If it is, why wait? That also means I have to know me–the real me (not what others tell me I should be or what I should like)–knowing what I love, who I am, what I value, what I want to invest in, and fully counting what I am willing to sacrifice is all about knowing me.

I don’t think I am better because I can make a decision like this quickly (too quickly some would say)–it’s just how I approach life. Others are more cautious, and I also admire those qualities. I also know we were fortunate to find this spot early in the process. The thing is this house sat on the market for some time before we found it; there was some interest, but we were not in a bidding war with anyone because the house is not perfect–there are things that will need work. Now that we have invested in it and are honoring it, trying to bring out its natural and timeless beauty, our guests tell us how fortunate we were to find it. In fact, one of our guests who has been looking for some time, joked with us as he was leaving, “if you ever want to sell, give me a call.” I’m learning that loving and investing in something can often make it appear more attractive to others.

It feels good to know that maybe we know how to find “the diamond in the rough.” I am also very grateful for a life partner, best friend, and husband who is my ride partner on these adventures. A guest asked me the other day, “no regrets?” and Darrell and I both answered quickly and confidently, “no regrets.” It’s a good way to live.