Le temps, il passe trop vite, quoi

I realise that my blog posts of late have all been quite nostalgic and boring, so I apologise for the following. Stop reading now if you wish.

So, it's the 14th March. The 14TH. Already I am two weeks into my penultimate month in this country. There have been a few times, recently, when I have thought how I cannot wait to get out of this illogical, indecisive, huffy hexagon, which I plan on (at some point when the words actually come to me and I can be bothered to sit down and write them) telling you all about. However, also over the last quinze jours (example of illogical-ness, right there...), I have become more and more sad about the prospect of leaving.

I thought, way back when I first arrived, that by the time April came, I would be ready to come home. I thought I would be really ready. Maybe not desperate, that's too big a word, but I thought that seven months were going to be long enough for me. Last month, I was still of this opinion. The time between December and February was not the best. I wanted to kill the kids at school, I got ill, I missed my friends and family, and by the time it got to the holidays I was so desperate to go home (as I said in my last post) that my leaving-date couldn't come quick enough.

So what's changed?

In truth, I don't really know. Nothing in particular, but I'm starting to realise how much I've gained from this experience. I've settled here, and suddenly it's all changing again. Whilst the kids might not be anyone's idea of perfection (ahem), I have had a fantastic experience teaching them, and I am going to miss it, and them, after it's finished. I've made two of the best friends you could ask for, and it's going to be bloody difficult leaving them behind, and I've been welcomed into two small musical communities with Arpador and HarmonieSMN, and it's going to be horribly sad to say goodbye to all of them.

There's still so much I could do, so many places I could go, and so many people I could meet, but in 51 teaching hours, 5 choir rehearsals, a Mozart festival, 3 wind band rehearsals, a trip to Jersey, two weeks of holidays (including a brief séjour in Croatia), probably quite a few cups of coffee, and six-and-a-half weeks, I will be leaving.

Caen: je t'aime. Tu va me manquer.