Rustica is too far for me to be a regular supporter. But, on occasion, I find myself driving through their neighborhood and pulling into the parking lot. And the brioche is always a motivating attraction. I hadn't had this particular shape before and it was irresistible to say the least. I let myself believe that brioche is actually a full meal deal because of the extra eggs and dairy in the dough. And I happened to have a jar of artisan plum jelly from a vendor at the Kingfield Market in my refrigerator. It was the perfect combination of sweet, chewy, crunchy and rich. When I move to Paris I will eat brioche everyday with chocolate and I will read and write and reflect. I will walk alot and never rush to get places faster and I will teach English to students and business persons. It will be so relaxed, just like my life now, but in Paris. I might even have a dog, but I will not have another cat after my Valerie passes on. I will be relatively free of responsibilities after a life of mandatory care taking. I will listen to music and explore the city, riding the metro, visiting friends in Brussels. Next year would be nice. I'm not sure how many more winters I can handle, and I'm not sure how much longer I want to take care of a house. Since my college trip to Europe I have dreamed of living in France. I thought it would happen after I graduated but I took a detour via marriage and dance to the west coast. My husband had no interest in Europe, and his interest in dance morphed into something much different: trees. Perhaps he would have been happier performing Butoh in and amongst the redwood forests. I imagine him somewhere along the Russian River not terribly far from Goat Rock Beach.
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Roommate?
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