Who’s that knocking at my door ….
I’m in Europe until mid-August and although I will write some new things I hope you won’t mind me trawling the archives for some posts that you might have missed from much earlier in the life of this blog. I’m starting with a particular favourite of my Two Brained husband and hope you will like it too …. silver linings abound if you let them
It could be said that mine is a curious existence, living here in one of the least populated areas of Europe on my own. I came here 5 months ago with horribly rusty French. I came here with few possessions – so much either sold or abandoned along the way as I moved and moved and moved again. I came here for love. But my husband, my love, lives in Boston. Yes, its a curious life. One day I’ll explain.
The last week, though, has been punctuated with knocks on the door. I inevitably feel a mild panic when this happens because it means I will HAVE to listen, understand and respond. I am fluent in shopping as previously acknowledged but a knock on the door could herald anything at all. Particularly an unexpected one. Like the time when the post-lady brought a letter each for signature for Two Brains…
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