Views of France: The everyday, run of the mill, things that stare you in the face that we barely notice them. Objects that are so much the fabric of France that they are like the water running from the faucet, the foundation underfoot, the air we breath. They often go unnoticed, simply because they are… they have been, and we assume will be here forever unchanged.
Stones steps that lead away from the center of the village. Stone steps that are impractical but have not been replaced by cement steps, or worse pavement.
Majolica and stone. Instead of plaster board or cement.
The baguette, with classified ingredients and strict rules to keep it that way.
Tiles that have not been changed, even when they didn't match the new furniture of 1920s or of the 1950s, nor of 1970, or even when the 1990s rolled in…. it has stayed the same.
Street lamps that burn brightly even when it was more complicated to convert them into electric lamps.
Buildings, that have stood strong even under heavy bombing and train tracks rolling by.
Doorways that have not been enlarged, and doors that have not been changed. Amazing how the French keep their history alive, how they make it live anew by letting it be.
The French bistro… nothing changed (except the cigarette smoke) not the chairs, nor the bistro tables, or the zinc bar nor the mirror in the background.
Yet a monumental change has occurred that has rocked France, or my corner of France that is… In the last twenty four hours, the only notable change in France that has been brought to my attention…. and surprisingly so… is that my eighty year old Mother-in-law has asked me to be her friend on FACEBOOK.
Facebook? When did my mother in law become computer savvy?
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