Where it all began - my office alcove (with horrid beige carpet) in our Paris apartment.
Nine years is a long time in the blogosphere. And I should have posted this piece yesterday, on the actual 9th anniversary of Paris Parfait. Instead, I was at the hospital with my husband, his second emergency visit within three days.
Within the past year, my blog has been neglected, with long periods of silence. Obviously, my husband's health has taken priority over everything. Despite my frequent absences, you, my longtime readers and friends, have remained steadfast.
The best thing about starting the blog nine years ago is not the stories or poems or photographs I've posted - it's you, the readers. It's the friendships we've formed and the confidences we've exchanged. It's the meals and conversation and laughter we've shared in Paris, London, Amsterdam and Seville; in New York, San Francisco, Santa Fe, Savannah, Vancouver and Amman. Over the past nine years, I've had the great privilege of meeting about 100 fellow bloggers and readers; all but two of these meetings have been lovely experiences.
I've been especially touched by the messages of support and solidarity received during these challenging months. These messages are like little badges of courage, to carry along the rocky road David and I are gingerly traversing.
Strength in numbers, my friends. Thank you for nine wonderful years. Une mille fois, merci!