Yesterday, it rained in the Limousin.
It began around five pm, hours before we left the office and the familiar confines of the lab.
It continued until I dropped off to sleep, soaked to the bone and that magical sort of exhausted.
Dropping me off at the hotel, Alain suggested I order out for 'zza and spend the evening avoiding the rain; there was apparently a good movie playing on Canal+ with Harvey Keitel in it.
Fifteen minutes later I was hiking up the cobblestones to the pedestrian quarter of the city, alone in the world in the tiny streets, all the stores long closed, all the restaurants closed on the Monday, all the people hiding from the rain.
It poured down my neck and belly, soaked into my hair, turning it a strange shade of wet yellow.
And I walked, splashing, bubblingly happy in my own private rainstorm, past this church and that marketplace, past the movie theater and the opera hall, past the McDonald's, stopping for the aforementioned 'zza and heading back past the crowd at the bus stop, towards the hotel.
Funny thing about hardship and weather, people suddenly forget that they're supposed to be ignoring each other. We all said hello and smiled and shared this quip or that, and I proudly gave directions and instructions for the brave bus-adventurers heading out to the castle of Brieve.
I smuggled my 'zza to my room in my backpack, took a delightfully hot shower, and crawled naked into bed (I forgot to pack pyjamas in my rush) only to have the most lurid dreams of David, of yoga, of the most delicious and sweaty things.
This morning I began work to an e-mail from him, my UW_Imap installation seems to be working correctly with sendmail mbox formats, and we're about to embark on the LDAP journey of an afternoon filled with bright-eyed madmen awaiting Monstre-ian miracles.
Princess will be boarding her plane for Montreal soon, and despite missing her already, my heart is filled with wonder.