The Schilthorn

Au revoir, France.

Things I Will Miss: A Prematurely-Nostalgic List 

• playing with the kids.

• that lovely stick-shift Volkswagen. "You're an American driving a German car in France!" my host father laughs. 

• Rolling French countryside, wheat fields, the beauty of even utilitarian buildings...

• the cigarette-wizened, wild-hair proprietor of the bar who always seems simultaneously stunned and inconvenienced by my presence in her shop.

• receiving the gentle, maternal blessing on my forehead during the Eucharist. 

• a yogurt section that takes up a whole grocery-store aisle, both sides.

• being able to say "euhh" instead of "um;" the moue (that French thing were you stick your lips out and shrug your shoulders).

• perceived comfort level with self and body -- gender-less public bathrooms, less cosmetic dentistry, real people in advertisements...

• being able to laugh at my gullibility and my skill for spilling any sort of beverage on myself (oh WAIT, I can do this anywhere!)

• a good excuse to go heavy-handed on the butter, crème fraiche, wine, sugar... (when in Rome...)

• people wanting to talk with me so they can give their opinion on President Obama to a real, live, American.

• greeting people with a warm bisou.

Until next time, friends. BISOUS [xx]!