Well, I’m back in France and it seems my days here are now officially numbered. After all the paperwork and begging and pleading and racing from Vevey to Lausanne and back again, the Swiss have decided one more giraffe in the country would do them good. Honest to god, to look at my pièces d’identité these days you’d swear I’m gearing up for a bit of espionage and high treason.

So now I’m a Canadian/British national leaving France to take up Swiss residency. I’m gone right global, a citizen of the world, international woman of mystery, a fool who doesn’t know whether she’s coming or going. And speaking of country confusion, the book can’t decide whether it’s more at home on the Canadian side…

Or the American side of Niagara Falls…

Merci Ellen! Either side will be just fine for me to hurl myself over once this Swiss business is finished. That permit B is just the first hurdle in a long, messy race to hurry up and wait. We applied for two apartments last week in the wackiest rental market I have ever heard of. Next up is wrangling a visa for Neil at the Swiss Embassy in Paris and then, something else, what is it? Oh yes, the eventual pack up the house and haul all our crap to another country adventure. Again. Somehow I’ve only just realized that this is part of the deal. Where’s a good shrink when you need one?

 

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