People look at me quizzically on the streets here when I am walking in the rain and grinning from ear to ear. I imagine they are wondering why I am smiling when the weather is dreary. I am happy. I am warm, fed, and extremely well-loved. I am living my dream. It was easy to sell the clothes, the house, and cars. It was a little harder to walk away from over a hundred grand in stock options and an American salary, but we did it. We took the plunge. My parents thought (and still think) we are completely insane. I'm so grateful they taught me not to care what anyone else thinks! :)
Most people here own cars. Many own houses. We don't. We don't want to own much of anything really. We are car-sharing, renting gypsies who have just enough furniture to live anywhere in the world, albeit very nice furniture. After the stress of selling two houses in three years, the earliest we will even consider buying is retirement.
Many years ago in Paris, I did my own literary tour endlessly searching for haunts of Hemingway, Henry and Scott, etc. Outside there would always be those lovely blue house number signs. I loved them and now we live on a street where I pass a dozen every single day. Does it bother me that I don't "own" my own little blue sign? What do you think?
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