Snowdaze

I'm sitting in the university library and there is an old man sitting next to me in a huge fur hat reading a newspaper with a magnifying glass. In other words, France is still incredibly French. Groups of elderly men still stop and watch the commercial boats lift things out of the port and people still light and smoke cigarettea while pedaling along on their bikes. And this week an inch or so of snow stopped everything and gave students the guilt-free excuse to get out of school for most of the week.

Last week I wrote about grayness, but since then things have changedddd. White cold has taken over.

I've never ridden my bike in the snow before or seen snow by the sea, but it's all quite cute, as was the energy at Valin, where parents couldn't be bothered to send their kids and the ones who did come to class easily talked me into holding a little conversation hour instead of giving them mock exams.

Between reading and snow and nights out with friends, I've realized lately how weirdly high my quality of life is here. The French are also growing on me exponentially, probably due to my growing comfort with the language and knowing what I want and where I want to go at the market and the boulangerie. Thankfully it doesn't seem like I'm the type to make problems or anxieties when I'm lacking in them (usually). So that means that when my life is relaxed, just exciting enough, pleasant on a daily basis and full of lovely people, I'm plain happy as a cat. Though I would be happier if I actually had a cat, obviously.