So even after 8 years I still have them. Those days where I could actually be living anywhere in the world, doing my usual daily things, minding my own business in my own little world, and not speaking a word of French. Okay, that's a lie, I ordered a café crème in the café this morning. But other than that, it's been a very English speaking kind of day.
I think my 5 year old little lady spoke more French than me today, and that was just her playing with her dolls.
I met some Scottish clients this morning to look at some houses. The kids and I had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for lunch. We've read Green Eggs and Ham twice. I've been reading the New York Times online tonight, and I'm just about to watch some superbly cerebral English television, or I mean American, America's next top model.
The only shock back to reality this evening was when I stepped out the front door to walk the dogs and the 13th century chateau that is our village's town hall appeared in front of me, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the streetlights. Oh, yes, that's right, I'm in France. I'm an American, living in France. I guess I feel so comfortable here now that I need to remind myself of this from time to time.
But shame on me, I must speak some French tomorrow.....