I was just dreaming about the trip to France we took a few years ago. We walked the streets of Paris, drank cappucinos and went to museums. We floated down to Provence where we were surrounded by red poppies and fields of olives and lavender and there was a bed by the pool. We stayed in a stone mansion, and woke up to baskets of pastries and ate out of perfect dishes and coffee cups with ceramic lids. There was cheese, oh the cheese. And love and freedom. Freedom and love and France.