After a very long drive, we are back in Paris. Our car was loaded, no space left for the things left behind. The entire loooooooooooong way, nine hours, I slepted. Seriously. Tonight will be a jet lag experience.
Coming into Paris the city was a buzz: People, movement, noise, building after beautiful building… vastly different from our little Provencal village. A smile spread across my soul, one of pure joy, grateful to be able to have a moment of time in both French worlds.
We carried the bags upstairs: Linens, lampshades, pots, pans, pillows, silverware, chairs…
Sacha is living and going to school in Paris (EICAR). He hadn't seen the apartment. His first impression was honest and helpful. He started with, "It has your mark…" then he added that I needed color or a least something white.
I loved he advice at first. But now I see it as work: What I should have done…
It is more than okay as is. But now I see how it could've be better.
As Sacha is taller than me, everyone is taller than me. He found most things in the house to be miniature. I had to remind him that he is a GIANT by French standards. At one point he lifted me up to his height and I saw the apartment from his view point…
Oh la la!
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