"I just get home, and then I leave again,
It's long ago and far away..."
It's long ago and far away..."
("Departure Bay," Elvis Costello and Diana Krall)
Tomorrow I turn the calendar to June -- and panic strikes. Where did the school year go? What happened to all of those home projects I had promised I would get done this year, to the vows to see friends more often, to my New Year's Resolutions, to my eldest daughter's last year of high school?
Time has happened. And, as usual, I'm facing June with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Excitement because it's a fun time of year in France -- lots of social events, concerts, generally nice weather, late light. All the ingredients are there to make it a kicking time.
But at the end of this whirl of gaiety is a plane ticket for the USA, July 7th to August 20th. Of course that's wonderful news. I'll be seeing my family, and, most importantly, I'll be seeing my youngest daughter for the first time in over 10 months, which will be a great joy.
Yet, so much remains to be done. My oldest daughter is taking her Baccalaureate exam, her driving exam, and looking for an apartment in Rodez for her studies next year. Correction: I will be looking for the apartment.
At this time of year, I start to feel like I'm being squeezed through an hourglass.
The song lyrics above used to remind me of going "home" to Olympia, but this year, they could just as well apply to coming "home" to Aveyron. It seems like I just got back, and it's time to leave again.
Time has happened. And, as usual, I'm facing June with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Excitement because it's a fun time of year in France -- lots of social events, concerts, generally nice weather, late light. All the ingredients are there to make it a kicking time.
But at the end of this whirl of gaiety is a plane ticket for the USA, July 7th to August 20th. Of course that's wonderful news. I'll be seeing my family, and, most importantly, I'll be seeing my youngest daughter for the first time in over 10 months, which will be a great joy.
Yet, so much remains to be done. My oldest daughter is taking her Baccalaureate exam, her driving exam, and looking for an apartment in Rodez for her studies next year. Correction: I will be looking for the apartment.
At this time of year, I start to feel like I'm being squeezed through an hourglass.
The song lyrics above used to remind me of going "home" to Olympia, but this year, they could just as well apply to coming "home" to Aveyron. It seems like I just got back, and it's time to leave again.