My French hosts are a philosopher and a historian. My French is terrible, but so far nobody has been rude to me because of it. The blackbirds in the trees this morning were singing 'a sky of honey', just like Katie.
|Is there any more beautiful place on earth for a morning run than Jardin du Luxembourg?|
In the afternoon we bought stinky cheese and Beaujolais and baguettes and pastries and took them back to the Embassy where FJ and Bill are staying, and had ourselves a little feast looking out towards the Tower, before F came home from work and off we went to dinner.
We ate a very spectacular, very French, very expensive meal, with excellent wine (and Ricard to start!), and then because they are wonderful friends - and it was already my birthday at home - B refused to let me pay for any of it.
I cannot quite believe that this time here is mine. I miss and love my boys, and I speak to them every day on FaceTime, but to have these weeks of my own on the other side of the world is kind of a dream come true. It's not a birthday I'm going to forget in a hurry.