Well, here I am. Yet again-relocated. Each time I’ve done this, whether city to city or continent to continent, I’ve taken less & less with me.

A question of emotionally letting go coupled with a practical sense of logistics.

There’ve always been a few non-negotiables that travelled with me no matter what. My seashell jar, collected during myriad travels over decades. My photo album, to keep people I love close by, if only figuratively. The necessary clothes & toiletries. 

And, of course, my pooch du jour. Remy, Serena & now-Mica.

When circumstances upended my life, whether by choice or fateful intervention, I’ve always adjusted quickly & with a degree of flexibility that kept me moving forward with some sense of optimism. Like everything else, it gets harder with time to keep that stiff upper lip, especially when circumstances have truly been unprecedented, unexpected & completely out of your control.

The details of the last few years defy explanation, even for someone as chatty as I am. The story would make a great mini-series, entertaining to watch, but tougher to live through.

Beginning with a personal betrayal that led to losing just about everything. Deciding to return to France, when the government chose-after my visa was issued & my remaining belongings had been shipped-not to honor the legal promise of my carte de séjour renewal. To the arrival of the pandemic, & the...Read More
Read more...