And We’re Off
Tomorrow we’re going back to France, a thing I won’t truly fathom until we land in Paris. We dreamed the impossible dream, and now it’s coming true, against all the odds. Génial ! Wonderful! Fantastique !
We’re limiting ourselves to one suitcase each, which turns out to be easier than I’d thought it would be. We each get 50 pounds, but amazingly both of our bags are a bit underweight. I suddenly realized “hey, I wear the same pair of jeans almost every single day here at home, why do I need more than that in France?” Well, actually I do need more, but not that much more. We already know that where we’re going is very casual, and usually warm. We won’t be dressing up, and we have a washer and dryer. And, drum roll, there are stores in France! If we need something we can buy it. I don’t have to take shampoo and toothpaste and band aids and all the paraphernalia that filled our five gigantic suitcases the first time we moved to France, because now I know exactly where to find everything, how to live on the local economy. It’s a great feeling, liberating.
Today as I was out doing errands I was thinking about how to explain something in French, something technical to do with a bottle of wine I’m taking over, and when a woman held a door open for me I automatically said “Merci, Madame.” I think I’m ready to be there, well-worn jeans, rusty French and all. When next we chat, I’ll be here:
My computer sits right inside that lower window, the one opening onto the balcony. See you there.
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