As I take my shaky first steps into 2013 (little foal that I am), I will not even be on good old American soil.

Sylvie said “It’s so cool you’re going to France for a week and not even visiting Paris.” And I said “The downside is, I’m not visiting Paris.”*

But. Adventures abound in tiny towns. I got here yesterday.

-Had coffee and biscuits at this gentleman’s home, hoping he’d take me wild boar hunting.002

-Went to butcher, bought two pork ribs, one boudin blanc sausage, a triangle of duck liver mousse (aka not foie), and some well-recommended potato chips.

-Drank all the wine.

-Might drive to Spain, to witness the marriage of nice strangers.

I’m studying which cheek you start with on the kiss-kiss hello. Right now I’m clocking 60% left cheek starts.

And if you’re the type of person who gracefully intuits which cheek to offer up, please to suck a baguette.

*For my next trick, I’ll complain about getting paid to eat.


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