After breakfast I sent F over with cash to pay the bill, but she came back with it still in her hand. "That lady over there paid for us! She said it was so nice to be reminded of France!"
I looked around, and a nice-looking old lady waved at us.
A little later she came over to our table. "I heard the waitress say you live in Paris," she said. (From the inevitable American question "Where are you from?") "I love to think of all the wonderful times my husband and I spent together there. You reminded me of that. Thank you!"
It was nice to hear from someone who loved France. I think most Americans feel fond of France, in spite of all the mean jokes. It reminds me of the relationship between siblings who are constantly bickering, who complain to their friends about the other one, but who have a deep love underneath it all. We depend on France being there.
I like the metaphor (?). Fits.
Posted by: Melissa | 19 August 2006 at 23:17
I sit here with two French friends sound asleep upstairs, one having arrived last night. I opened presents of books, chocolate and savon de marseille. Yes, it is nice to be reminded of France.
Posted by: zuleme | 20 August 2006 at 15:14
I love France, too. It reminds us of how to live a civilized life. Thank you for reminding me of that in your charming blog. I'll buy you lunch when I visit Paris in the spring for the big birthday.
Posted by: Karen | 23 August 2006 at 01:59