One quandary for expats lucky enough to snag a Paris assignment is how best to communicate with the folks back home. When things are going great, you're not sure whether you should report on this. Doing so makes you feel like a show off. And if things are going badly, well that's not any easier. So you had a bad day. You're in Paris. And that kind of makes you feel like a spoiled brat.
So having said all that, I hope you'll forgive me for the following. I'm not trying to show off. I'm just trying to revel in the memory of where I had lunch yesterday. To be honest, the food was only average. But the company was great and the setting in the picture postcard village of Saint Jean aux Bois, some 80 kilometers north of Paris, was magical.
For a long time, we were just another typical Washington, DC family: two policy-oriented jobs, two kids, and two cars. Out of the blue, my husband got a new assignment; we ditched the old jobs and the cars (but kept the kids) and headed to Paris for what started out to be a three-year, and eventually became a four-year tour.