Stories Collected While Living in France
French beret,
a woman pushing a bicycle.
Red lipstick and cigarettes in her younger days.
Nowadays: a quick race to the market to prepare lunch.
Without fail: Baguette, cheese and wine,
a dog at home named Fifi.
Cobblestones, metro stop, cafe et sucre.
Oh la la
Merci
Bonjour.
Two kisses now be gone.
What says French to you?
Seriously, French dogs are named Fifi? That’s not just an American stereotype?
The pavement is wet, I see. Taken recently there somewhere? Nice pic.
What says French to me? You do, Corey, you do.
As Rebecca said!
The dogs I know about in France are named Bob, Sophie (Portuguese lowland sheepdogs) and Lulu (standard poodle).
I love this sort of Tongue in Cheek character profile! More please! You bring postcards to life!
Besides a baguette with Camembert? Lemme think about this a while…
Awakening from my reverie:
Croissants, bien sûr.
Pastries, especially those made with puff pastry.
Melons.
Mousses (the desserts, not the hair product).
The Eiffel Tower, macarons, a certain sound that emanates from my CD player in my car (a CD bought in Sarlot), and certain foods.
More than anything, the gorgeous French language, and secondly, the songs of Edith Piaf.
The art of film making.
French cafe jazz….
Chateaus, bistros , amazing food and last but not least all of the beautiful pictures from Corey!
Stylish, thin women in black with scarves tied perfectly. Food portions sized as they should be, markets where the products are beautifully displayed with pride of ownership. Cobblestones, beautiful doorways, great knockers (you know the kind I mean), well mannered children who don’t jump up and down on the seats in restaurants. Incredible architectural details everywhere you look. Brocantes!!
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