My name is Becky Hubble Peterson. Corey and I have never personally met. Years ago in my search for all things French, I stumbled across her blog, Tongue in Cheek with a zip code that was familiar.
St. Xavier’s Catholic Church (circa 1855) in Chinese Camp, a few miles from my home. It was locked up, however, if there is a way to peek in I'll find it. Look at the tiny confessional near the door.
A horse posing for me on a Spring day in Chinese Camp. One of the other days I visited, which takes one through a chain locked gate with stern instructions to lock it behind you, the horses came up to me and let me stroke their noses.
Corey grew up in Willows, Ca. I grew up in East Biggs, Ca. 34 miles apart, zig-zagging through rice fields one small town to the other. My niece was the mayor of Willows at the time, I knew this zip code. I contacted Corey and we have written back and forth. While Corey grew up surrounded by rice fields I grew up surrounded by almonds and walnuts.
In my garden
I married my best friend Steve in 1979…
He was fresh out of the CHP academy and we moved to Los Angeles. I moved from the country surrounded by orchards, the nearest tiny town of Biggs that doesn't even have a stoplight, to L.A. His assignments took us from L.A., Santa Barbara, Monterey County, where we had our two boys, Nicolas and Gabriel and now I am in Jamestown, Ca. an hour from Yosemite.
The tragedy of my life is Steve passed away from cancer five years ago. I am still mending. However, I had the happiest marriage of anyone I knew.
I will stop there, it's said and as I mentioned with God's grace I am mending.
My son Gabriel and his wife Liz, had a son this past April, and this difficult year of 2020, has had its joy.
As I write "this joy" is taking a nap mere feet away.
I can hear his baby sighs and peeps.
In 2017 I went to Paris, with friends and family. Corey encouraged me not to be shy about the flea market after I lamented that I was. My DNA says I am part French, however, I don't speak the language and was intimidated by the culture. Our trip to Paris went splendidly. I barely slept. How can one sleep when they hear the little market vans making deliveries to the cafes and shops below at 5:00 a.m. Paris was awake 24 hours a day and I didn't want to miss a thing. My DIL organized a wonderful itinerary. We took one trip out of the city to Giverney to visit Monet's home and garden. All us country and small-town folks did breathe a sigh of relief getting out of the city. History was everywhere. We stopped in Rouen and had lunch.
My parents were both collectors, loved history and gardening. I inherited these traits, they are fire in my belly. I have a love for antique and vintage textiles. Some of these I bought from Corey years ago.
When my family and I went to the Vanves flea market in Paris. Two of these beautiful seltzer bottles came home with me. Liz, my DIL graciously carried them back to the apartment. These are very heavy, she is young and I am not!
The cafe we were at, only across the street, so they could seat us all.
The oldest cafe in Paris used to house the priest in Notre Dame.
place des Vosges Paris
As we departed the train, a sign told us that Joan of Arc had died at this very spot. I felt overwhelmed by the rich history. My love of travel, photography, and collecting is still with me. I love leading friends on local field trips to old cemeteries, small towns, and museums. My husband and I often took the road less traveled and really it's the way I grew up, it is my normal. I am forging ahead and dreaming of more travel and finding more treasures. I am looking forward to having friends in my garden again, enjoying a good meal.
Meanwhile, I am making the most of who I can have over…
If you can't have friends, invite some turkeys!
Leave a Reply