Freedom

So the plane was an hour late in taking off and by the time the Air France flight attendants with the red, red, lips served dinner, I was actually hungry. I had my cocktail, ate my dinner and refused bread three times -- which is not very French. In fact it might even be considered an overt act of hostility not to eat it. I refused wine, too, and that's when they stopped smiling at me.

I settled in and chose "Quantum of Solace, which I stayed awake for, and then fell asleep through "Vicky, Christina, Barcelona." I woke up when the pilot announced the decent toward Paris. I slept. Yippee.

When we landed it was two in the afternoon of the next day and I received a text message from a good friend of mine telling me that she was waiting for me on the other side of baggage claim. Quelle surprise! What a gift! On the drive into town, we caught up on our lives, our kids and the necessity of abandoning our families for a week to seek freedom and regeneration.

Dominique (AKA the bride) showed up later in the afternoon and we spent the rest of the day catching up before going out to dinner. We chose Indian and thus did not have to refuse any bread. Brilliant.

Back at the ranch...

I called EM to see how things were going and things had gotten off to a ruff start in the morning when Tiger had some gastric complications in the middle of the night and decided to express them in front of our bedroom door. Ugh. Jack was dragging his heels to get dressed for school and Makena was clingy...

I am feeling a little bit guilty about all this freedom but I have been assured that this feeling should completely dissipate by tonight. I'm waiting for this moment to happen with anticipation.


In the meantime, Anouk, Dominique's sister has just arrived from Montreal. Time to explore.

Is-in France