Away and torn

So I left the furry gang for a few days to join a gang of musicians for a festival in the Southwest of France (I do this for a living). It's a warm welcome - the sort of festival that once a year takes over a tiny village and involves the entire community, including long communal lunches and staying in a stone-built medieval chateau. My windows look out over the river and I feel like in another world and another time.
Yet everything is reminding me of my new 'family' I left back home: I find cat cookies in my jeans pocket, cat hair in my suitcase (and in my face cream...) and my shoelace has chew marks... Travelling around the world with musicians has been great fun for the last 10 years (even if you don't get to stay in a chateau every time) but suddenly I'm just not so sure any more where I'd rather be. Maybe it's time for a change.