Saturday, February 22, 2020

Going Home to France

How many days since I have been home? We left December 8 our village Quillan, planning to spend Christmas and celebrate Grace's wedding before returning on January 18. We had to leave a few days early because of the train strike and other plans to block the highway, so we camped out an airport hotel for a few days to make sure we caught our flight home.
That all went smoothly, Christmas was low-key, the wedding was beautiful, but I agreed to take on two in-person classes in Columbus, which forced me to stay for another month in the States.
Now, finally, the day has arrived.
I'm sitting at the airport grading papers, ready for my flight to New York,
A glass of wine so I can sit in the restaurant and grade
then connection to Barcelona. Earl will pick me up in Barcelona on my birthday tomorrow.
I have worked like a dog -- getting up at 4:45 a.m. to teach every morning except one day a week, plus I have taught most evenings since the Chinese children did not return to school yet because of the coronavirus. Plus, there is a lot of grading to do for three online classes with in-person components I'm ready to relax and collapse for awhile.
What better place to do that then at home in France?

Cockadoodle Doo or Cocorico?

 We stood in the middle of the road, having walked together 13 miles that day and Claudine grasped my forearm. "Mais non! It doesn'...