Lighting my fire in la France profonde Pierre-Antoine explains that his uncle recently retired and lacking a son to take over the farm, sold his cows. He now rents out his barns for storage and the land for agriculture. Xavier, the old farmer, is waiting for us, dressed in dark jeans and a checked shirt. Leading us into the barn where the wood is kept, he tells me that the oak is "seasoned" (dried and ready to burn). It is not cheap and the price doesn't include delivery, but I agree to take a cord (a unit measuring 3m x 1m x 1m) anyway. Until a few years ago, farmers earned a little extra cash on the side by selling wood from their land on the black market. But then the authorities clamped down and started paying extra attention to anyone moving large quantities of logs around the countryside. As a result, the price of firewood has risen and supplies can be difficult to find, with the numbers of good suppliers passed on by word-of-mouth. Xavier tells me that I can leave the wood here and come and help myself whenever I need it. But I cannot see myself driving to a remote barn in the middle of winter to pick up logs. It's hard enough summoning up the motivation to haul them in from the garage. Fortunately, Pierre-Antoine steps in and offers to collect the logs for me. As we pull away from the farmyard, the deal done, I notice that the old farmer is following us. "He doesn't live here anymore," says Pierre-Antoine, explaining that Xavier prefers to live in a modern bungalow in the village next to ours, so that he and his wife can be near to the shops. The old farmhouse is rented out to tenants. "I think they are English," he adds. As we drive back towards the village under a strawberry and vanilla sky, the empty green fields suddenly strike me as very poignant. This little corner of France has one less farm and a farmhouse that will not be lived in by generations of the same family. Still, the thought of the firewood gives me a warm glow. Xavier might no longer be producing boeuf, but he is supplying the locals with an equally important commodity for winter. Karen Wheeler is the author of three French memoirs, including her latest, 'Tout Soul: the Pursuit of Happiness in Rural France', £10.99, Sweet Pea Publishing. She also blogs about her life in France at www.toutsweet.net and you can follow her on Twitter @mimipompom1