Category: Living in France
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A Date with a Soccer Player
We spent the day together, just him and me. We frolicked in the cold outside. Looking at birds in the trees, playing in the sandbox at the park, pretending to be dogs and cows, never kicking a ball, and then late…
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Rocking Out to the Wildest Evening Desiring Sleep
Some people are just rude. Their rudeness cannot be overshadowed even when you are kind to them. Maybe they do not seem rude to their friends, but most likely, their friends are rude too. Perhaps not one hundred percent rude,…
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French Texture
French texture… After thirty-five years, married to a Frenchman, having children, doing business, and living in France, I have lived longer in France than in my native homeland California by five years. I could ask myself: "How does it feel…
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A Street in the Center of Marseille on a Winter Day
Blue skies like a top hat sitting on the buildings. Unexpected, potted plants in plastic garbage pails lined the street. My cousin Judy would say that is a sign of a frustrated gardener wanting a yard in a limited…
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A Dabbler and Scribbler
Thank you for your messages. They humble me. My blog is an assortment of whatever is rattling around me; often, it is a message to myself to be a better person. If it brings you something positive, then…
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Unearthed Discoveries
The French brocante offers more than old things from someone's attic and more than boxes of disheveled junk. The French brocante is not just a place to find unbeatable prices for disregarded items or the chance to find an…