Last day

Bewitched, battered and bewildered, am I ... Saying goodbye to Paris, closing down this flat, trying to keep tabs on Ottawa, checking in with Toronto where I do not actually have a home at the moment, as my tenants are still in residence ... It's an odd time, not without stress. I'm trying to do some yoga breathing - tried it in a rare moment of solitude and sun, and ended up a minute later with a notebook, making lists. Things To Do Upon Return. There are quite a few.

Lynn and I went this morning to the Pinacoteque, to see an exhibit we'd luckily procured tickets for months ago - Modigliani and Soutine, the collection of Jonas Netter, a reclusive art collector who kept various Montparnasse artists alive with his purchases and support. A beautiful collection - not that many of the famous names, but many artists I'd never heard of and should have. And then Madame and I went to visit the permanent collection of the museum, where for a surreal 15 minutes, we were the only people in a room full of masterpieces - Botticelli, Frans Hals, Picasso, Corot, Max Ernst, African sculpture, Tintoretto - all mixed in, very interesting, some extraordinary stuff.

And then back on the #21 bus, home to eat a large lunch - trying to finish some of the quantities of food in the fridge - and talk and talk and read emails and talk. Now friends are coming for a last night supper. And more talk. I will miss this stunning city fiercely. I will be glad to be home, where I'm needed. Whenever you are somewhere, she said, revealing the depth of her wisdom, you are not somewhere else. How I would like one of me to be over there, taking care of my mother, and another here, looking at Botticelli.

Just rushed to the bakery, to get croissants for my kids. Okay, and one for me, for breakfast Monday at home. A last taste of butter and pastry, before Canada resumes its hold.