A picturesque village perched on the side of a mountain, a feast for the eyes during any season. Often you can find painter's painting at the base, the post man knows the steps and the market place is in the center. This is why French women don't get fat… they walk– and they walk alot… cobble stones and stairs, are good for the legs.
A street light hangs as it has for over a hundred years. Looking up to admire it, I closed my eyes and sent a blessing to those who have kept it there and not changed it. Later because of my admiration I stepped in dog pooh… it is a French thing: Dogs are loved, pooh is often on the sidewalk, as if it is their birthright. The French have a saying, 'If you stepped in Dog pooh with your right foot then you are lucky." I look at my right foot and said, "Merde! Lucky?"
I leaned on the rail to clean my shoe. Wishing for a puddle to swish it in.
But oh how I love this simple railing. The color!
Lucky is walking under an archway inscribed 1673. I feel so young.
Laundry dries on a terrace.
I haven't hung out laundry in years… though I did everyday for 12 years before I had a dryer. Laundry hanging looks so fresh, so inviting, dreamy of another time…
but I do not miss hanging out laundry.
The bell tower in Aix en Provence.
Isn't it striking!
The sound of bells I love that. We hear the bells from our church ringing around the clock.
The market place in the center of town. In the heart where it feeds the soul, under the colorful parasols.
While some buy there vegetables at the market others take a coffee at the cafe. The atmosphere is created by the day to day life of routines and rituals.
The receipt, the tip, the plate, the spoon… a glass of water and a cup of coffee…. it is so "French cafe" I licked it up and said, "Yum!"
French women are born chic. As I stood with dog pooh on my shoe I watched her go by.
Note:
Simple black boots,
charcoal tights,
grey straight skirt,
styled hair,
black leather jacket, black leather purse…
and a grey scarf twisted with elegance.
Window shopping… I need long legs that is what I want for Christmas!
They fashion people say "14" articles makes the perfect outfit. Counting everything, underwear included.
I count the articles on me:
Underwear,
bra,
jeans,
boots,
necklace,
earrings,
ring,
eyeglasses,
purse,
turtleneck,
sweater,
jacket…
I am under dressed that is my problem.
I still want long legs for Christmas, long legs and under dressed, I can live with it.
The French Square… let's try the 14 article count to see if it is well dressed:
Cobble stones,
Stone fountain,
Water trickling,
Faded facades,
Shutters in weathered grey,
Framed windows,
Architectural details on the wall and above the window,
Rusty guard rail,
A touch of moss…
Under dressed but damn if it isn't perfection, "Even without long legs!" I laugh at myself.
The face above the window looks at me strangely as I giggle at my own story.
"Hey," I holler at her, "You don't even have legs… and yet you too are a gem!"
I think I detected a smile.
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