The monsieur and I have left Paris. Actually we’ve been on the road since July 2014.
If you’re wondering how your Paris Letters managed to arrive from me in Paris whilst I was on the road, here’s the secret:
So off we went. The lovely Christophe took a page from my book and figured out how to save up, pare down and quit the butcher shop, leaving hungry chicken lovers in his wake.
First stop was Poland for a wedding.
Second stop was Toronto for another wedding.
Third stop was Fort Somewhere for yet another.
There was a lot mini trips, laughs with family, sometimes too much sun, packing and unpacking. And a whole lot of letters posted from the road. While on the road I decided it was high time to create a Travel Letter series. This is the November Travel Letter…
And at some point, we unpacked our bags for good in Canada.
Calgary, to be specific.
Since then, I’ve had two big questions to answer:
1. What will happen to the Paris Letters?
They’ll continue as usual, except in more of a Julia Child My Life in France kind of way.
“Memory is a notoriously biased and sentimental editor, selecting what it wants to keep and invariably making a few cosmetic changes to past events. With rose-coloured hindsight, the good times become magical; the bad times fade and eventually disappear, leaving only a seductive blur of sunlit days and the laughter of friends.”
— Peter Mayle, Encore Provence
So that sentiment will amplify as I continue to create more Paris Letters. There is so much to say. So many pictures to paint. So much material. In fact, I’ll probably be better at it from here without the delicious distractions of Paris itself. And if you’re so inclined, they make a great gift.
2. Why Calgary?
Ah yes, this is the bigger question. I’m still not exactly sure except that we felt like it, which seems good enough for us and not good enough for whoever is asking. And of course, once we decided, many signs pointed west because that’s how life leads us along.
Don’t kid yourself. Some days I’m stunned by the move.
And I double over in grief. Especially when I remember salted butter and warm baguettes, chocolat chaud, chevre… Oh mon Dieu. But mostly when I think of the friends I left behind.
For a long time, Paris was my dream. And I got a great big wonderful dose of it. When Christophe suggested Canada last year on our trip to the Rocky Mountains, I pondered, pondered more, and finally realized that I fulfilled the dream of being an artist in Paris, and now I was prepared to assist him with his dream of living in the mountains.
His dreams are super easy in an English speaking country.
So off we went. Or rather, here we are. In Calgary. To stay.
Let the flourishing commence!