Today my home is France. Tomorrow night it will be Durham England once more.
Seventeen boxes, taped up like criminals to a wooden post surround me in our small apartment in the South of France. Each one containing way more than I need. Ready for their own journey back, like me, to England. They sit on the floor, bulging and taking up space and wait for the UPS driver to come and collect them. I wait too, and like the bulging boxes, find it difficult to contain the mixed up contents of my brain and heart.
My friend wrote these beautiful words below about my attempt to make France a home once again and then choosing to return to England.
"No place is perfect, no person is perfect, but many moments are. Take those moments and string yourself a necklace of perfect-moment-pearls that you wear everyday. Sea and a rose is a pearl. Add it to the necklace, fondle it, cherish it, remember it. It was a moment. And a moment later a bee could leap out of the rose and sting you on your nose."
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