I hate packing up. I hate having to say good bye to friends, and I really hate the thought of the brocantes and vide greniers that I will be missing. Also, I'll miss the cepes that are just coming in, the truffles next month. So, I pack as much as I can into the last few days.
As this trip draws to a close, I stop and savor every view. When I am home in California, on one of our perfect sunny days, I can close my eyes and see the stone buildings, the endless rows of vines, and almost feel a little part of France.
Besides the things I buy to bring home, I always seem to pick-up something a little more intangible to carry home. Last spring, I came home and started a compost pile. All my neighbors and friends in France do this; not because it's trendy, but because it would be silly and wasteful not to have one. All of our French neighbors hang clothes on the line. My neigborhood in California, sadly, doesn't allow clothes lines. Now that is silly.
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