Living in France is not like living in the USA.
It just ain’t the same.
Wine is replaced for beer.
They wear jeans and make them look like a little black dress, they have savoir-faire when it comes to such things… you would think after 19 years of living in France I would come home chic and hip and well maybe with a new flair….certainly grown-up…
Heck no, my feet wear mud, and it looks like mud.
Rich with texture,
the beauty of life is,
making it real
and knowing it looks good on you,
wherever you are…
be yourself.
Photo: Old jeans I found folded neatly and dirty in my Dad’s barn. My feet, while I walked around outside early this morning listening to the birds and feeling the earth under my feet, mud and all.
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