I’d have been sad if I’d bought rather than been given this little memoir of a woman’s decision to ditch her life as an editor for a high fashion magazine in London and head off for a new life in a rural village in France. It was still a big waste of three hours; I’d have rather spent the time clipping my toenails and washing my windows. Such a promising cover, too, with a woman in flipflops carrying a big wicker tote with loaves of fresh bread and purple lavender sticking out. But, no, the book was one long whine, of the I miss my sorry-no-good boyfriend who left me for a younger woman sort. The move to France didn’t seem to turn out to be the life-changing event the author had hoped for either; I wonder if she moved away from the little town in France or if she is still trying to make a new life there.Two thumbs down.