Poking around our apartment in Paris. Some friends from Willows are coming next week, and I want everything to be just so. Also a magazine photographer and stylist came over this morning to take photos for an article about designing and creating home with old things. I guess they thought I would be the one to talk to. I wonder how they got that idea?
The funny thing is I thought they were coming around one in the afternoon, and instead they arrived at eleven in the morning. They caught me with my fair unbrushed, in my cleaning-the-house clothes and well, really not ready. They looked very glam and professional I looked like a cave dweller.
At least the apartment did not disappoint them.
Needless to say they did not take my photo, whew.
Sacha is coming over for dinner.
Chelsea is in Provence with Yann… she took the bad weather with her. It hasn't rained in Provence in several weeks. And it hasn't felt like summer in Paris until a few days ago. Lucky me.
It didn't just rain it poured, the flowers must be in wonderland.
I added three more plates to the wall; I want to cover the wall with plates. Call it ironstone paper. Thirteen of them. I am not worried that thirteen has a bad rap… but if any of them fall I will re-think the thirteen thing.
Looking out.
Such a glorious day.
I can hear it calling, "Come out and play!"
A evening walk with the boy is on the menu.
The magazine people brought over a lovely bunch of flowers. Some of them were pink which really doesn't go with the color scheme, but once they were placed here and there I had to admit the those pink flowers added such harmony and grace, that they could have been purple with red polka dots and still I would have felt like singing.
I hope your Sunday is a singing one too.
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