I moved out of my haven today. In the snow. (Two sights that made me smile on this otherwise painful occasion: teenagers sledding in front of the Pompidou and a snowman on the Boulevard Sébastopol).
To commemorate comme il se doit this sad day, please allow me a moment of melancholy and maudlin sentimentality as I list the top 5 things I will miss about my apartment (half a David Letterman ode to the dearly departed, if you will).
1. The 600 year old wooden beams above my head, for making me feel so young by comparison.
2. The flashes from tourists' cameras outside my window, for making me feel like a movie star.
3. The pencil height markers the Boy and I put up there ages ago as if we were kids (mine about halfway to his) for making me feel... well... tiny.
4. Diana, the very affectionate English bulldog from the shop around the corner, for making me feel cuddle-worthy.
5. The stunning, gritty imperfections of the neighbourhood, for making me feel like I was home.