Chrysanthemum
A few weeks ago I became one of the many “lucky” folk to catch the H1N1 flu (”swine flu”). For the first time in my adult life, I understood how someone could die from the flu. Not to sound alarming, mind, just that on the fifth day of a high fever, bad cough, and exhaustion, I was so sore and tired that I barely had the strength to cough well enough to clear my throat to breathe. And that waswithmedication, and I was in pretty good physical shape before that. Flu vaccinations. It hurts less to get one than to get this flu.

While I was ill, the French national police knocked on my door. At first I wondered if I were in a movie, seeing the plain-clothed gentleman present himself with blue-white-red-striped official ID in hand and firm look on his face:“Bonjour madame, police nationale.”He was looking for one of myupstairsneighbors (the eldest son of his parents, who also live there, along with their two younger sons and the eldest son’s daughter)

By fraise

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Filed under: Life in Provence

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