T'was a sad Monday morning. Everything had been put away, the house thoroughly cleaned and the water turned off. We turned the key in the lock one last time, said one more quick good-bye to our wonderful French neighbors who take such good care of the house when we are not there, clicked one more photo and drove down our hill for the last time in 2011.
I admit, I cried.
It is so difficult to tear myself away from my little Auvergnat village, from our friends and from the sheer beauty of the green hills. Yes, I love my life in Brooklyn, but here is where my heart is. Here is where life seems real to me.
Now, I will count down the days until I can put the keys back in that door. Soon, very soon, I hope.
Merci à tous mes amis auvergnats, surtout Marinette, René, Michel, Claudine, Corinne et famille, la famille O, Charlène et famille et Mr. et Mme. M.
Restez en bonne santée. Vous me manquez déjà. Prenez bien soin de notre petit village sur la colline. Et encore de bonnes vacances avec des jours bien ensoleillés.
To Elaine and Richard and their great group of friends, thanks for including us this summer. It was great hanging out with you. Hope to see all of you next year.
And here is a blast from the past, a few family photos taken at the house in the 1970's, so that you understand my attachment to the place.
My mother sitting on the stone bench in the front yard
And both of my parents with our donkey Balthazar at breakfast in the yard, circa 1973-74.
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