After lunch walk: Emily, Emilie, Sam, Paul

The sun was fading fast so Pascale took the dishes from our hands and pushed us out the door. Since it was Sam's first time to la Flèche and Emilie hadn't been there for years, I took the lead in our ride through and around town.
As we biked along a little stream we changed course to follow the sounds of music. Our search yielded two things: a man on a little drum, leading the group of percussionists encircling him in a catchy tribal hammering and thumping, and a one roomed building emitting stomps and western twang. While Sam held back, hoping his obvious hesitancy would dissuade Emilie/y from any bad ideas, we approached the large, open windows. As we'd hoped, a couple of the hat bearing, boot wearing, middle aged French cowboys noticed and promptly invited us in.

Photo courtesy of Emile 

Emilie immediately informed them that I was from Texas. When I added "Dallas" a sudden choras of the theme song from the 1970's TV series Dallas filled the happy room.
The line dancing instructor called us to the front to teach a new line dance. Once he began playing "God Bless Texas" I showed immense enthusiasm but my feet  never caught on. He sent me home with a book on the beginning of country western dancing to its arrival in France and detail instructions on how to do the line dance.

How funny that I happened to wear boots and the only flannel shirt I own which I never wear in Paris.