France For A Year --- Me, My Son, My Dog (and a husband back home!)

"Life begins at the end of your comfort zone."

                              Neale Donald Walsch

A certain vulnerability sets in when you quit your job,

pull your son, your dog and yourself out of a very

familiar environment, leave your husband behind and

hop on a plane to a country where English is rarely

spoken and the only thing written in English is STOP;

yes, the stop signs say STOP, not ARRETE.

This morning, while feeling vulnerable and slightly

unmoored,  like a row boat without oars, my pottery
 bowl of yogurt-oatmeal-all bran and sesame seeds
 slipped from my hand, fell to the tiled floor and
crashed into pieces, yogurt splurting everywhere;

 a  rather visual representation

of how I was feeling.  If "life begins at

the end of your comfort zone," and I feel that

 my comfort zone had ended, there is only one

thing to do;  return to the kitchen

to make a nutella crepe.  Ah life is so much better,

even with pseudo chocolate.