Back from the homeland

Dear Marc, I'm back.
Are you?

I took the plane, which I hate. I am always convinced I will crash and as I board the plane I solemnly look at my co-passengers who will share my sad fate. They always seem happy, bored or busy, never as seriously grave as one should be when having a date with destiny in the skies.

On the good side, I flew SAS, the air line with the oldest stewardesses. To me, this is in itself a reason to fly Scandinavian. Those ladies have been in the air since the days when it was a dreamy, glamorous job to ask strangers if they would like coffee or tea. That's a long time!

Only one bathroom was working.
I'm still cross people did not applaud my speed as I did my business in seconds out of politeness to other passengers also about to crash.

It's difficult even writing about my fear of flying. I feel it might be prophetic and that I will crash and people will point to the blog and say "look, she knew. but wait, if she really knew, would she have bragged about her toilet habits?".

I might, I'm so mysterious.

Come fly the friendly skies with me.

That top picture has nothing to do with this post. I just feel I have to share my kids and the LeGuelaff Breezes. Cause they're all so cute and I have to show you how the new Roumanian chic look we're all rocking this spring.

love
-e