How Can They Miss Me If I Don’t Go Away?

Well I took everyone's advice and stayed away from the computer for a week, more or less.  Maybe it was the combination of that, the spring weather, and the fact that we've been here for almost half a year but finally everything started to come together.

Part of it might be because I'm going to the US for a few weeks.  You know how when you show up at the hairdresser to get your hair cut and you see yourself in the salon mirror while you're waiting for them to get out the shears, that's the moment your hair finally looks the way you've been wanting it to? 

That's how France feels to me right now, and maybe it's partly knowing that I'm about to leave for a little while.  It's close to perfect.

At last, I've figured out the driving.  My French has improved dramatically.  The studio is working, so we've been recording.  I've been writing, and practicing.  Gardening is a whole new experience - I've always wondered why people got so excited by plants and flowers and digging and planting.  I finally understand.

The village is hopping.  Last week was a classic car tour, where dozens and dozens of the most adorable sportscars came roaring past our front door for over an hour, while all the neighbors stood out on their doorsteps applauding, waving and generally whooping it up. 

The people in this area are, for the most part, a joy. Here's an example of the brilliance of our French neighbors:  One day a few weeks ago we noticed that someone had written some seriously big graffiti on the side of Angeline and Daniel's barn, next door.  A bright red and blue, very urban handle or tag or whatever you call it - "DEES."  We'd been wanting to ask this retired couple when it had happened, how did they feel, etc.

Were they upset about vandalism, or their property being defaced?  Non!  They were actually delighted to have the first graffiti in the area, and took pride in the fact that it was more colorful and much better executed than some similar graffiti on a barn further down the road.

We went to our first show in Limoges the other night. The female keyboard trio Au Revoir Simone, from Brooklyn, had a lovely, percolating sound. Entrancing. But the local band, Personal CharlyO, who I've been worshipping from afar via their MySpace, were ridiculous, seedy, manic and entertaining.  I haven't sweated that much since...since Germany.

Another night we went to our local bar to see a French rock group called "Piledriver." Talked with people, danced (how come all the French women know how to jive?), a fight broke out so the guitarist played "Greensleeves" (for crowd control), a woman climbed up on a table, little kids and animals milled around in the bar and at the tables out on the street.

Then there's the epicerie in our village.  It's gotten to where shopping there is a must, at least once a day.  I almost feel like I should tell them I won't be around for a few weeks. They greet us so enthusiastically, and make sure we know if they have anything special, like pastries or extra fresh strawberries. 

Oh I know I'll get that swoony feeling I always get when I catch my first glimpse of New York City.  And I'm already planning where to get my re-entry bagel. Mostly I'm dying to see my daughter and hang out with her. And catch up with my family, and some friends for a day or two. But how nice to have this place (and Eric!) to come back to. I hope the garden will wait for me.