Do you know what I like about stories? Stories are like bread.

Mmmm… bread.  Warm fresh bread right out of the oven. Right out of the pan. Can you see it? Can you see the steam rising as you cut yourself a slice? As you spread the butter on the bread, the white creaminess of the butter melts and soaks into the bread. Do you put jam on it? What kind? Do you eat it with just the butter? Do you make a sandwich?

Isn’t that very much like a story? You can make any kind of story. A short story, a long story, a story about love, a story about death, a story about your greatest success, or a story about your worst failure.

I like that stories can inspire me to try daring things, to attempt to conquer my greatest foes, and sometimes to get out of a fog that I am in. Stories give me hope. Hope that maybe I’m not alone.

While my story might not be the best–or the best-written story at that–maybe–just maybe–by sharing it, I might be able to encourage you to try something daring, inspire you to attempt to conquer a foe, push you get out of a fog you might be in, or let you know that you are not alone.

Welcome to my story.

Perhaps it is unusual to you for a girl from Alabama, at the age of 18, right after completing high school, to fly to the south of France by herself for ten months to learn French by being an au pair.

So, why did I do it? Why did I move to the south of France?

For the answer to that question, you’re just going to have to wait. And, perhaps in the meantime, bake some bread.