We took a bus to see the nearby old city of Mougins this afternoon, after packing most of the morning and putting things back where we found them in Francoise’s apartment. When I cleared the desk in her room five weeks ago, I made notes that the TV goes on the right side, the printer on the left, and the photos of her son Alexandre go on the mantel. Gradually, over time, the initial feeling of visiting in someone else’s home faded away and this elegant space began to feel like our home. Tomorrow morning Francoise is bringing croissants and will help take us to the airport at Nice for the trips home to Omaha for Deb and to Denver for Darlene and me. Meanwhile, I’ve got a few more things to pack…

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