The words just kept on flowing out.
I was excited to be making the cross over with a blog acquaintance and her friend from the virtual world to reality, especially as it had popped out of the big blue. A little shy too because I am sometimes. And so the words kept coming out in an overflow, covering and revealing.
As grateful as I am for all of my contacts with the online community, I miss the simple joy of delighting in girlfriend time, especially with such a lovely and engaging duo. The expat community in Arles is tiny dots and so it is extremely rare that I sip San Pellegrino with women who speak the same language, have the same cultural references and laugh at the same second with an acknowledgement of a certain play on words. Face to face, seeing flickers of expression, I realize that many French women that I know keep a far more steely control and that the exchange is based more on dialogues than volleys.
This difference brewed like a wealth of communication in comparison on this particular rainy afternoon. A casual reassurance rested somewhere next to the straw on the table between us by just being present.
A bit like sunset up on the roof that spills the brim of its cup. And so were my words, pulling a string of scarves out of a silk top hat, to chase from red to pink to gold. Stories to tell and be heard. For once I will try not to worry if it was too much.
I woke up wondering. I remember that I am lucky but also that I feel what I know. A sugar sort of bittersweet overflow.
Laughter! So key, Susan. I think about how my Mom and Sister can make me laugh until I fall off the chair with our family jokes… 🙂
But they are wonderful as you say!
Bisous right back.
I would love to! And I am really touched by your offer. 🙂
And it is funny because I haven't had English speaking friends (that I see on any sort of regular basis) for a long time now and somehow it is just recently that I am realizing how much I miss that.
Oooh but so much would be lost too. Each language offers so much, tells so much about who we are as a people or a culture. I love that there are certain things that are untranslatable as much as I struggle at times.
But yes, I do miss that instant connection–just like I felt with Henrietta knowing that she is your daughter…
Edgar, there is nothing trivial about your responses ever and I always appreciate them so much. And I love that your key to getting in to Swann in Love is listening to the story being told–that makes so much sense to me and wish that I had thought it when I read it! Those long paragraphs can be so daunting if you feel outside of them.
As always, you just put it absolutely perfectly, N. I don't have anything else to say…
xo
That would be wonderful! I find that someone being a fellow dog lover is often the perfect place to start, the best! That and a sense of humor of course… 😉
Oh and he loves you for it, Loree!!!
It really is a break, Judith! Not to be thinking ahead trying to wonder how you are going to translate a certain word or so. Knowing it will not offend…
It is, Laoch. Even just that. 🙂