I love this hiccup of a week between Christmas and New Years in France. Whereas in the States, all too many of my loved ones are already back at work, here hardly anyone is. It is truly a time for taking stock of the last twelve months, being with family, wandering through town aimlessly thinking. A time of rest. And sometimes, life gives you that little extra push if you are refusing to pay attention.
There seems to be a wicked virus flying around that hit first me, then my dear friend Frederique, her cousin and now Remi. By some gift from above, I was well enough to thoroughly enjoy the Christmas Day luncheon with our friends in the country--yes, champagne, foie gras, the usual suspects--but little else save for a small serving of my honey's absolutely exceptional stuffed pheasant a few nights later. So much phenomenally tempting food in the refrigerator--escargots! oysters! the buche!--and yet no one to eat it.
And yet, as I learned after my surgery gone awry at the beginning of 2010, sometimes being ill can be a blessing if taken correctly. I realize that sounds odd and of course I am not talking about any serious disease. But being forced to not move from my couch for all of the 24th, too jumbled up to even read, I was able to let the whirlwind in my mind come to, if not a standstill (it never does) then at least a quiet dance-like shuffle.
Here is wishing you all non-stomach flu inflicted peace for the upcoming year. Thank you so much for coming and staying, your support. I would love to hear more about you!
Un grand merci à mes lecteurs francophones! C'est sincèrement une belle surprise pour moi... je vous souhaite à tous une année 2011 pleine de Bonheur et de Paix.