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Paris Here we Come!
Heading to Paris! Without my camera, nor my laptop. I will be posting random photos, many throughout the weekend, with my iPhone. This should be interesting considering in…
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Working Dirty, Feeling Clean
Before Sacha came home from California we had found him a job at a construction site in the center of Marseille. French Husband and I told him we wanted…
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Do you Ever Get Mad?
Do I ever get mad, or have a bad day, or is life truly a bowl of cherries without a single pit? I am asked that often, well not…
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Natacha: Fifteen Years Later
The last time I saw Natacha she was four years old, and she and Sacha had just finished painting each other, from head to toe, with fingernail polish. Red,…
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This Little Girl Went to the Market
This little girl went to the market, in a brown dress, and brought home some melons. I knew something was up when I heard French Husband…
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French Antique Style: Grey and Pink Bedroom
I am not a pink girl, nor am I frilly, or lacey… though romance is right up my alley. Mimi's house is the perfect shade of grey, with hints…
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What are you Reading?
Old books covered in blue. Missing pages, torn covers. In French. Old French at that. I must confess I am not reading them word by word. What are you…
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An Impromptu Picnic
An impromptu picnic starts when one wants to nibble on something in between meals. One opens the fridge, leans on the door, and scopes out the possibilities. Instead…
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The Perfect Shade of Grey
The perfect shade of grey? Is it a mixture of sand and twilight? Does it have a snippet of lamb's wool, and a dash of pepper? Grey, or the…
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Monet Never Lingered Over His Food
(Photo of Monet's painting found here.) Years ago (1999) early in the morning, after I had set up my wares to sell at the brocante market, I quickly took…
Categories
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- Willows, Memories from Back Home