Spending the majority of time with people who speak a language I barely understand is quite a strain on my sanity. It's concentrating on every syllable I hear while simultaneously letting the words flow over me. I can grasp a phrase and let it roll around in my mind and ponder it for a while, but if I do that, I've lost the thread of the conversation. I'm trying to learn to put these morsels in my pocket and save them for later, but all in all, it's pretty exhausting.
That's why I love these weekends I can run away to Paris. Meeting up with my fellow blogging Anglophones is like taking my brain to a spa. By the time I come home, I'm ready for the French assault to start all over again.
It was meant to be a picnic and sleepover, but the weather didn't cooperate. I confess I don't mind that much, because the bad weather seems to have brought the beginning of Autumn with it, and last night I had the best night of sleep in weeks. So instead, we all headed over to her house ("we" being the usual suspects). There was food, cheesy movies, knitting (ok, I do not knit, but I am working on a cross stitch project so I brought that along), more food, gossip, commiseration, a freaky French neighbor, and still more food. We were going to do a recipe swap, but I think we all decided to just post them on our blogs, so I'll be doing that in a bit. All in all, it was a lovely weekend.