Stories Collected While Living in France

Writing here since 2005
I moved to France over thirty years ago. I didn’t speak French. My husband barely spoke English. Somehow, we understood each other anyway.
We raised our children here—Chelsea and Sacha. Now, they have children of their own. Gabriel and Olivia. They’re part of this story too.
This blog began as a way to share what I was living — ordinary moments and the ones that surprised me. Brocantes, baguettes, misunderstandings, family dinners, and the daily poetry of being somewhere new until it’s no longer new. But ever enchanting.
I write the way I speak. Fragments, reflections, photos. Memories that surface while washing dishes or walking to the bakery. What I see. What I’ve learned. What I’m still figuring out.
French la Vie is about life in France, but more than that, it’s about paying attention.
You’re welcome here.
To read. To subscribe (it’s free). To comment.
To come along — on one of my French la Vie journeys in Provence. They’re not tours. They’re gatherings.
Old friends, new friends. Conversations, markets, brocantes, long meals, real life.
If you’re nearby, let’s meet. If you’re far, I hope this space brings you closer.
With love,


The beads are old, tiny glass survivors, many more than a century old. Once they swayed from the fringes of electric lamps and evening purses, until fabric surrendered and only the beads remained. Lizzie found them everywhere: forgotten bags on eBay, shredded purses, mysterious little packets…
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