Hi everyone. Today I'm writing in an horizontal position (don't get any wild ideas). I'm just flat out on the couch, throat-spray, painkillers and cup of tea within reach. That's right, after facing sneezing students for the past 3 months, my imune-system finally gave in.
Being sick always reminds me of Barbizon, where I was the lovely hostess of several viruses during my first couple of months in the countryside (remember?). My memory goes straight back to our cosy flat above the art galery, where I re-read every single Harry Potter, all covered up in blankets, and in the loving company of Phoebe the hamster. Making quick trips across the street for croissant aux amandes from the bakery, or for home-made lasagna from the deli. And taking loads of medicine. So you see, I do miss France from time to time - even if it's triggered by such things as having a fever...(wait, maybe I'm just delirious?)
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