I’ve done it again.

 

Dropped entirely off the radar, that is.

 

Not that it has made much of a difference to any of you.

 

But I would like to think that someone has noticed.

 

If you didn’t notice, please don’t say anything.

 

I like to live in a dream world.

 

Which reminds me, did I mention that I spent a weekend in Paris?

 

 

Really.  I actually spent a weekend in Paris.

 

I need to repeat myself because this is not the norm for me.

 

Normally I say things like “I spent the weekend in Manteca.”

 

For those who are not from the Bay Area, Manteca is a perfectly nice central valley town that is a bit of a destination for baseball players as they have a very nice baseball complex with very many fields.

 

It isn’t much like Paris, though.

 

Anyway, I actually did spend a weekend in Paris.  I went there because my husband, the world traveler, was on an extended multi-city business trip in Europe, and, quite simply, he did not want to come home and find that I had literally died of envy.  So he arranged for me to join him in the middle, over a weekend during which he actually did not have to do too much work.

 

In Paris.  He arranged for me to join him in Paris.

 

I love my husband.

 

This was a sentimental trip for us.  He also arranged for the same thing on our honeymoon.  We went to London, and he arranged for a surprise few days in Paris.

 

I love Paris.

 

I plan to go on and on about how much I love Paris on another day.

 

But for now, let’s just say that I have not been too interested in blogging because I have been:  A) Getting Ready For Paris; B) Going to Paris; and C) Recovering From Going To Paris.

 

I know.  I kind of hate me, too.

 

Sally