Category: My French Husband
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Bonjour
It strikes me funny that being in my hometown I say, "bonjour" instead of hello, "pardon" instead of excuse-me, and "merci" in place of thank you. Those French words pop out…
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Life’s Dance
After John's death, life seemed to spin in a different circle; questioning the meaning of life became my new pastime, along with spewing angry words at God. I felt lost in a very dark cave…
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The Way to a Man’s Heart is through his Stomach
French husband loves to eat. I was taught that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. It stands to reason that we’d make a good team. Except he eats so…
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Nineteen Years of Being in the Garden of Marriage, weeds, roots, escargots and growing wildly
"Yann, stand in front of the armoire and act like you are in love." "I am in love I don’t need to act it. Do you want me to…
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Mon Trésor
This is the Frenchman who does extreme sports. -who can hang from a rope in a dark cave for hours on end. Yesterday he attempted to follow Sacha on his BMX, to ride over three bumps on his back tire…
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Living with a Frenchman
Yann and I went hiking in the calanques, (the rough coast line between Cassis and Marseille,) our starting point a charming obscure little port called, Morgiou. Yann told me to bring a book, he said, "I’m going to rope down…