A Heart in France

For reasons I won't go into, it has been a stressful winter on all fronts. Perhaps that is why the intense feeling of wanderlust that usually strikes in August has arrived early this year.

I live in a lovely little community. But I do not want to be here. I want to get away, to leave all the unsettled affairs and unfinished drudgery behind, rent a car and wind my way through France.

It always seems like a holiday in France. Of course, it is for me when I am lucky enough to get there. My dream is to just drive, finding a village that captures my heart and checing into an auberge. If you look carefully, you'll see a sign for one at left in the photo, which was taken on the north bank of the Lot River, heading east to St. Cirq Lapopie.

The word itself conjures up crisp white sheets and a bedside bouquet of flowers in riotous colors. Oh, how the French love their flowers! For now I must satisfy myself with buying a flower box for the laundry room window and plotting the blooms I'll plant there on Memorial Day weekend.

I imagine finding an old bistro table and chair that I can place next to the window - there is a bit of concrete there - and the gaily striped seat pad I'll find. What a place to have morning coffee!

We'll see what the season brings. Meanwhile, my heart is in France.