I started a blog in french, thinking I would write lots and lots...in french; this is not happening, for some reason, the minute, I posted a photo and had written an intro, the flood stopped and I was struck by the white page syndrome and all I could think of were reflections and reasons why and my thoughts were forming in english, all this with the added annoyance of not even being an english national. The more I try to shake the englishness out of my brain, the more it flares up. The festive season does not help. I even wrote a whole poem in english this morning. Last night, I made origami snowflakes and they are all english (it is very warm and sunny in Avignon). My daughter's english class nursery rhymes are on a path with haikus, the language rolling like pebble. And you know what, even the few photos I am taking are english. This I really can not explain. I do not think I have one french bone left in me. That should be perfect to live the british expat dream, I just didn't expect to have to go through the whole language barrier again.