French la Vie

Guest Post: Laurie-Annya Linfoot

 

Since I could not decide on my story,

so I am giving you vignettes of my 69 years. 

 

 

​​

Annya and her son Jackson

 My daughter Annya was one of the last babies born in the Yosemite National Park hospital,

called Lewis and Memorial. When it came time to deliver my baby,

we had to drive from the southern area of the park called Wawona (4,000 ft elevation),

up and over a mountain pass of 6000 ft to get to Yosemite Valley

where the hospital was located.

It was the first snow of the season.

Her father’s last name is White,

and we joked that we should call her “Snow.”

 

I absolutely love cats, kittens, and baby goats.

I have also become infatuated with the Blue Merle Australian Shepherds,

which seems to be a favorite dog in France.

 

 

 

My favorite poets are Mary Oliver, Rumi, ee cummings, and Haziz.

 

 I am now living in France, a lifelong dream.

I moved here when I was 66.

Even though it took a while to get here,

it just goes to show that it is never too late to follow your dreams.

I have never been happier in my life!

~~~ 

I have 3 tattoos.

I got the one on my arm

a bit after I got married at 62 (not for the first time, may I say).

It is a quote by Mary Oliver,

“He is exactly the poem I wanted to write.”

 

I live in a small village in the south of France.

I tell time by the church bells chiming.

And occasionally looking at the clock…

 

 

Ms Amelia, our 1975 AirStream Trailer

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1486208

 During the summers, we go back to our cottage in Connecticut.

We have a 1975 Airstream trailer in our backyard

(we have an acre of land), which we rent out on AirBnB.

 

 

I love the snow and occasionally insist that we go up to the mountains

so I can get a cold nose and feet. Does my husband like the snow…?

Not so much!

I have sea kayaked in Glacier Bay in Alaska

and on Baffin Island, off Canada’s northeastern coast.

 

(I found these at the brocante in France and dye them myself for my craft fair.)

 

I love going to brocantes.

While I do not have the Brocante Bug as bad as Corey,

I do love wandering the rows, finding things

I have no idea what they are and imagining their use in a prior lifetime.

I love the natural patina created by the many previous lives they touched.

While I look for linens, especially napkins

with really “heavy” monograms and old nighties,

My husband Ian is looking for old cameras, tools, and other curios that attract him.

What a wonderful way to spend a day!

 

 

I have not eaten red meat, chicken, or turkey for 38 years.

Well, except for bacon! For a period, in my career,

I was often traveling for work, and on arriving late at my hotel,

all I could get was room service.

As we all know, they would always have a BLT on that menu.

One night, I thought, “What the hell, why not!

After all, it was a self-imposed restriction.

And I never looked back…

It is a slippery slope, but I have held the line at bacon

(and lardon in France).

 

 

 I love to cook and have friends over so I can try out new recipes on them.

I never use a recipe with over 10 ingredients,

and I am not particularly good at following directions.

My husband is my chief taster and almost always can let me know what the dish needs.

He is also a good cook. It

 gives me great pleasure to have friends gathered around the table,

eating and talking and (perhaps) drinking till all hours of the night. 

 ~~~

My life’s motto is “Live Creatively”

 

 

​​​ I am married to Ian. He was born in Scotland,

though he has lost most of his accent.

Except, that is, when he is drinking with his pals in the pubs.

Then I can’t understand a word he says!

Though I do love it when he reads me Robert Burns’ poems

in a full Scottish accent!

He is truly a kind spirit, intelligent,

knows politics and history

(I call him my personal Wikipedia),

thoughtful, helpful, and caring. I love him to pieces. 

 

 

I love watching birds.

One of the great disappointments of where I live now

is that there are mostly only seagulls, pigeons, and ring-necked doves.

 

I also collect bird nests.

In fact, I bought an old steamer trunk,

removed the falling off lid,

put in a shelf about 4 inches from the top,

filled it with bird nests and eggs, and put a glass top on it. 

I believe that I was married to Ian in a previous life.

We lived in Europe somewhere.

He was a farmer and we had three children, two girls and a boy. 

 ~~~

For many years, I worked in a bookstore in Marin County.

I grew up loving reading and books.

I was a voracious reader and, as a child,

would ride my bike to the library a couple of times a week.

I liked "series"; I remember reading all the Briar Patch books,

then I headed on to the Greek Myths, and Nancy Drew, of course.

I often read books my parents had around the house.

I remember reading “Gone with the Wind” in fourth grade,

though many of the parts I was a little sketchy about (like that torn bodice).

 

 

​I have a craft business. I make products from items

I recycled and/or repurposed that I find at the brocante.

I hand-dye old napkins and nighties, stamp vintage butter knives,

make cashmere lavender eye pillows, and create gifts from various items I stumble across. 

I (usually) sell at craft fairs and farmers' markets when I am back in Connecticut

in the summer, though, of course, this last summer was an exception. 

I had been reading Corey’s blog for years.

So when Ian and I were in Aix, (I have to say I am a very shy person)

I emailed Corey to see if we could stop by and meet her.

Now, this was VERY unusual for me to do.

Of course, being the generous and gracious person she is, she said, “Of course!”

We went to her house and had a wonderful couple of hours.

And since moving to France, we have become closer,

and our husbands have become friends. 

 

How wonderful it has been to meet so many delightful,

interesting, and accomplished people through this blog!

 

 

Thank you, Corey, for inspiring all of us to share our stories!

-- 

Follow Laurie-Annya Linfoot on Facebook

also on Instagram

 

 "Everyman has two nations and one of them is France."  Benjamin Franklin

 

Guest Post: Kambria Anton

 

I believe at one point or another in our lives

we find ourselves searching

for something or someone to guide us,

to help us along this life’s journey.

Finding Corey and following her blog for over 8 years

has been like finding a treasured jewel at the Brocante.

like many of you fellow readers, I start my morning with a cup of coffee,

sitting down with my computer and diving into Corey’s World.

She has a tremendous gift of weaving her tales and imagery that spark my heart.

I have been with her through the good and bad days,

learning by the love she so tenderly gives to family, friendships,

and the magical Brocante.

 

       (My French Brocante Treasures)

Taken at the Brocante where we met C & Y

 

    Imagine, visiting one of the Brocantes in France

and the serendipitous moment I turned my gaze and saw

Corey and French Husband from afar.
“Look that’s CORRREEY!!! “  

I exclaimed with bubbling excitement to my husband.

Granted my husband also knew the famous Corey after years of me

sharing something I had read from her blog.

So we casually stalked them and introduced ourselves.

Although the March morning was bitter cold,

Corey and Yann greeted us with warmth.

 

We chatted for a few minutes and I

happily shared my precious treasures

I had acquired at this market.

Two small hand-forged butterflies

that would fit perfectly in my suitcase

back to our home in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.

 

 

I was so taken with the moment of meeting Corey and Yann

that I completely forgot to capture a photo of us together.

I regret that, but hold hope that I will someday have a chance

to spend more time in France and meet them again.

With the most sincere gratitude,

I pray we will have many more years of reading Corey’s blog 

and feeling like an extended part of her family.

 

 

 

 

I was going to end my guest post here...

But with a little more prodding from Corey,  

I will share a bit more about my life. 

Alas, I have never been very confident with my writing skills.

However, my persevering temperament and grit has been

my source of strength and gotten me through most challenges. 

 

 

 

 

 

I have always believed in following my dreams.

As a youngster, I told my mom I wanted to be an artist when I grew up.

She responded by saying I should take a high school typing class.

She felt concerned that I should have something to fall back on

if my Art couldn’t support me. 

How many countless children have heard similar advice? 

 

 

 

 

Well, I never enrolled in that typing class.

I ended up studying art in college,

having my own photography business,

and marrying the man of my dreams,

who is also an artist!!

I am so lucky he gets me and understands 

the need and longing to create. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven years ago, we reimagined our life and took a leap of faith.  

We found ourselves cleaning out the attic, selling our house, car,

and 80% of all of our possessions.

We lived happily in California for many years but felt drawn to Mexico,

particularly San Miguel de Allende where we live now.

Transplanting oneself to a foreign country is not easy.

Corey knows this all too well and has shared so many stories

that I can totally relate to, from stumbling with language barriers

to the longing of seeing family and everything familiar.

For now, Mexico is home but this devastating Covid pandemic

has me questioning everything. 

 

 

 

Gratefully, I continue to be inspired and to make Art.

My passion is for reclaiming and redefining 

the possibilities of materials.

I feel strongly about developing more holistic ways

for creative expression, in particular the use of discarded plastic.

With staggering statistics rising daily about our plastic waste it

tells a disheartening tale of a world

that is in desperate need of change. 

It is my hope that Art creates a discussion and education

which allows us to reform our

methods of consumption and disregard.
                                                                                                 

     (Sidenote: Kambria wrote on a Facebook post,

"Instead of giving up chocolate for lent why not give up using plastic instead?"

 

Maybe this Advent, the ending of this year taking us to a

new year we can consider being mindful 

of our consumption of plastic.)

    

 

 

 

All of my sculptures are made from this repurposed plastic

that I have collected from many sources.

I fluctuate from painting on canvas to sculpture,

each influencing the other.

I prefer to keep my works abstract for the purpose of leaving

many layers of interpretation.

It’s really exciting to push the boundaries of perception

and perspective 

leaving more questions than answers. 

 

 

 

 

If you are interested in viewing more of my work

 

please visit my website

 https://www.kambriaanton.com/

Or follow me on Instagram 

 

Follow me on Facebook.

 

Be well, everyone. Follow, reclaim, your dreams wherever they may take you. 

 

Kambria Anton 

 

 

 

Guest Post: Andrea Hames

Years ago, I reconnected with someone I went to high school with,

and through him, I found Corey

just in time to see the Paris apartment renovation. 

When the apartment was done, my husband and I spent a week there. 

Walking up the stairs and into the space was a bit like finally reaching the Emerald City. 

I’m honored to be a guest blogger and to have the opportunity

to share a bit about my love of weaving and dyeing fabric. 

 

This is my grandson.  

He’s playing an instrument that belonged to my dad

who was a big band musician who played with some of the greatest.

He also did Broadway Theatre so I’m thrilled that Jasper

took his guitars and other string instruments.

 

Like Corey, family and friends are everything to me. 

In addition to my family, the community has always been important to me

and varies with where in my life I am. 

In these days of COVID, I’ve connected through FaceBook, to a community of weavers. 

Weavers are a creative and supportive group, which is important as we find ourselves isolating. 

 

 

 

 

My love for weaving started as a textile design student at F.I.T.,

the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York City.

Weaving was a required course so I walked in and sat down at a loom. 

Who knew that you could take threads or yarn and arrange them vertically (the warp) and horizontally (the weft),

interlace them, and get fabric?  I was hooked. 

Not only had I found my passion; I found a world of people,

a community in which I finally felt comfortable. 

I’d always loved working with color, but this was a new way to play

with endless possibilities of shades, hues, textures, and weave structures

Some, who were at F.I.T. at the same time, went on to greatness. 

Calvin Klein married a girl in my class. 

Antonio Lopez went on to become one of the most successful illustrators in the business,

hanging out in Paris with Karl Lagerfeld, Jerry Hall, and a host of others. 

I do wish I’d saved the sketches he did of me when

I had a long, thin neck which was the piece of me on which he focused. 

Now I’m 75 and in the Nora Ephron cohort with regard to my neck. 

 

I moved into “the city” as soon as I could convince my parents it was ok,

I’d be fine and not end up on the back pages of a tabloid

which was where you would find all the good girls gone bad stories. 

An apartment in a tenement building in Greenwich Village with a roommate was home. 

My F.I.T. friends had also moved to the area

I was now able to earn a living and enjoy the things I love, the things that make me, me.  

NYC offered me theatre (my Dad was a Broadway musician), opera, ballet, museums, etc. 

I still drive in from Connecticut to enjoy all those things and will again when we’re vaccinated,

though I worry about the survival of the arts.

 

 

My F.I.T. graduation gift was a 45” wide loom which I still have. 

While living in NY, I did freelance work on the loom.   

I’m in Connecticut now, but the loom came with me and now has two sisters. 

My yarn stash is immense, but I never seem to have exactly the color or texture I need,

so it continues to grow. Sometimes, I dye what I need by hand painting or doing Shibori.

 

 

When I arrived in Connecticut, there was no work for a fabric designer.

Changing circumstances demanded I pursue another career to ensure a paycheck. 

With it came another new community, work friends. 

Though it was not a particularly creative endeavor,

I find you can bring creativity to anything.

Though I marked time knowing I’d be back at the loom one day.

For years I was not able to weave and despite encouragement to

“get rid of that thing”,

I held on to my loom. 

Weaving is my Zen and an escape. 

Once you decide what you will create and set it up on the loom,

the rhythm of the weaving has a calming effect. 

It’s physical and good for the brain. 

It had been important to me years ago

and I knew it would again. 

 

 

When I retired, I went for some refresher courses at Wesleyan Potters 

which is an artists’ co-op, gallery, and school. 

We are potters, weavers, and jewelers.

Another community, this one like a family, though right now,

we can’t gather nor do much work together.

 

 

 

Artists are struggling in these times, as are so many others. 

Many who usually teach live workshops are seeking new ways to earn a living. 

I’m participating in a workshop with an international group of weavers,

helping an artist who would usually be teaching in person, to develop an online program. 

The instructor studied at the Rhode Island School of Design. 

My studies at F.I.T. were industry-oriented. 

In the Garment District of New York,

I was limited to designing fabrics for apparel that would photograph and sell.   

I’m working through a completely different methodology now,

with no limitations other than my own creativity,

the loom capability, and materials on hand. 

It’s a challenge. 

Old dog, new tricks! 

 

 

 

 

If things go well pandemic-wise,

I’ll be loading my loom into the back of my SUV and heading to Knoxville, Tennessee

in the summer of 2022 for a week of live, intense workshops. 

That was supposed to have happened this past summer. 

It occurs to me that all the rearranging and adjusting

we have done is akin to what the French call le Système D.

The D stands for 'débrouille', meaning to get on with it,

figure it out, use any means available to do something. 

 

 

Here’s to us all managing through

continuing to find ways to do

the things we love.

 

 

Question: Do you sell your items or do commissions?

 

I sell very little.

I sometimes sell scarves, baby blankets, placemats, towels, etc.

in the Gallery Shop at Wesleyan Potters,

but I don’t have a website.

I give my work as gifts because the process is so enjoyable.

I keep a stack of hand towels to take when visiting.

Having worked in the garment district with constraints of what

would sell based on what was in Europe the previous season,

and the price point of the company I worked for,

I love that I can finally do what I love without worrying if it’s perfect.

I also suffer from “Imposter Syndrome”

and never think what I do is good enough.

 

Follow Andrea on Facebook

 

 

Guest Post: Penni also as S'Mee

 

Hello Friends!

 

I’d like to thank Corey for reaching out

to us all and inviting us to share

a bit about our lives. 

I’m Penni, and I found Corey about a year after

she began her blog, ‘Tongue in Cheek’.

I will rewrite a message I sent her a bit ago,

changing the pronouns  

"I’m not really into antiques, France is fine-

but I’ve never been there, and probably never will—

I stumbled on Corey’s blog about a year after she started and I stay because of her literal Spirit.

She’s genuine. She’s real. She’s poetic,  intelligent, and constantly positive.

This blog is a soft place to land.

I have found much peace in her conversations and observations.

I am inspired to be more because of the familial connection she has with her readers.

I don’t always have something to add,

but I always read. I admire her dedication to God and family,

and the way those things are reflected in her posts, photos,

and yes, antiques. I love that she shares her prayers and hope.

I thoroughly enjoy her relationship with Yann;

and have gushed over all the renovations. She is a constant light. "

 

 

I met my husband when I was 15, married him at 18,

and had the first of our five children when I was 20.

Our life was simple and sweet with plenty of ups and downs,

but we had so much fun and have the best kids ever! 

 

 

 

Our #1 child was a FireFighter until just recently, he was headed to be a Captain,

however, a life long illness required him to make a career shift,

so he is now an Arson Investigator married with 3 boys,

 his fun wife works as a Preschool Teacher for the severely handicapped.

#2 is a store manager at a tile company, where he shines because he loves sales and design, he is married with 5 kids! Which keeps his clever wife plenty busy.

Our #3 is a “Dental Hygenius” (hygienist, lol)  who loves science, her patients, travel, fashion, the fine arts, and being an activist for good social change.

#4 was a Journeyman Wireman but injured his back, so now he uses his artistic skills to redesign cars, trucks, and other vehicles. He’s the SAHDad of 3, and manages the house while his sweet wife works as a Pediatric Oncology RN.

6 years ago we lost our youngest daughter, she was 27 and was 6 months from earning her PhD from Duke University.

A year ago in August, my husband died unexpectedly

-dealing with both of those losses has been a challenge,

but our faith tells us that families are forever,

so I look forward to being reunited with them both for the eternities.

However, after a year alone, I need a change, so I am following the advice of my kids

and making a move.

My husband traveled (U.S. and Canada) for work,

and after the kids were old enough to tend to themselves for a week

I went with him when I could.

It was an incredible gift, we loved being with each other.

We agreed on about 98% of everything

-so our life was great, we were just the best of friends, always together.

We have 11 grandkids who are hilarious and smart and are just the best medicine for a bad day

-so after the move, once I am settled,

I plan on just going from one house to the other to receive as much joy as possible! 

In the times I am at home I will continue to work on my hobbies,

volunteering, and many visits to the beach.   

I currently live in a small town in the Mojave Desert of SoCal, in the U.S.

however, I am literally in the middle of a life changing move!

My garage is stacked and packed with a zillion boxes

my house will go up for sale this week…

I have no idea where I am moving to!

“Sell high, buy low!” so here I am. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am an artist and creator at heart and have worked on and off

all my life doing the most enjoyable things.

I began selling home-baked and decorated gingerbread houses

when I was in 4th grade and decorated my first “official” wedding cake

as a freshman in high school. 

 

 

 

 

I have always done some form of art, from logos to billboards,

custom Christmas cards, and had a few decades of painting murals

and faux finishes in model homes, businesses, and for personal home clients.

I was an ASL interpreter and instructional aide

for sign dependent deaf students k-12 for about 15 years.

I decorated cakes and reception

centers for weddings, quinceaneras, and have taught many of those skills to others.

I have taught art to school children and adults.

I made patterns for custom-tailored furniture covers to clothing.

I love making costumes and use the ideas of clients and my grandkids for inspiration.

I have volunteered for the Red Cross, LDS Charities, Domestic Violence Shelters, Homeless Shelters, Community Warming Centers, Deseret Industries,

helped build a community park in one day, and other places where I could.

I am a true “Jane of All Trades, Master of None!” 

I fear I have written a very long rambling book -

I will blame it on lack of sleep and leave it at that! Haha!

Again, I have enjoyed reading everyone’s incredible stories,

I feel like I have added a lot more “Imaginary Friends” to my life! 

 

Guest Post: Amy Kortuem

 

 

Bonjour! 

My name is Amy. 

Here is my story. It’s about adventure.

Surprise. Disappointment. 

Music, art, discovery. 

It’s even a little juicy. 

 

 

 

First, I am from North Mankato, Minnesota.

I live in a charming old Craftsman-style bungalow 

that I love despite its quirks, creaks, crookedness, 

and the occasional wayward bat

they are always gently shepherded

outside in a net,

accompanied by lots of screaming.

 

 

 

 

 

This silky little creature, SamTheCat,

showed up on my doorstep

on Halloween 15 years ago.

He lets me live with him. He does 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Allow me to introduce you to the love of my life:

my ancient, huge, cast iron clawfoot bathtub. 

It’s part therapist, part healer.

The statue guarding the tub is Bathrodite.

She’s a good secret-keeper.

 

 

 

 

I have a huge garden I dug up

with an old shovel divorce therapy, 1999. 

 

This summer, I made a stone circle in my garden for “sacred” activities

like smoky fires with friends and laughing 

way too hard and eating waaaaay too much cheese and chocolate.

 

 

 

I studied English with a writing concentration in college then

 immediately went to work for a printing company

as an advertising copywriter.

Also, music, I have played the piano since I was 10, and continued playing

and pursuing choral studies in college.

But a beautiful harp at a Renaissance fair stole my musical heart

and changed the course of my life. 

The harp quickly went from “Well, this will be fun…”

to “Having weddings and events booked through the years.”

 

 

 

 

As soon as I earned enough I purchased

a concert harp from Lyon & Healy in Chicago. 

 

 I still worked as a copywriter, but I spent all of my free time performing.

Playing in cathedrals and at county fairs,

at weddings and funerals,

for dignitaries like Mikhail Gorbachev,

and for preschoolers.

I have made four recordings plus a DVD based on an original song. 

 

 

I also started giving concerts on St. Patrick’s Day and at the holidays.

I’ve played for thousands of people,

and it brought me joy to share the joy of music with each of them.

 

But in 2009, softly, quietly, came the whispers of restlessness. 

At work, I was supposed to be writing, but instead, 

I was daydreaming, wondering, “What if? What else?”

 

And after 10 years of giving my own concerts, recording albums,

playing at hundreds of weddings and events and accompanying

orchestras and choirs

I began to look at the harp with weariness rather than joy. 

 

I was tired.

 

 

 

My wonderful, perceptive Mom noticed. She called me one morning in April,

“You need to get out of here. Let’s go to Paris.”

I gave her a thousand excuses why I couldn’t: work, the garden, the house,

my harp performances. 

Oh yeah: and we didn’t speak French. 

She didn’t listen. She bought plane tickets. 

We found a hotel in the Latin Quarter.

I got some travel guides.

A friend taught us some basic get-by-as-a-tourist French.

 

I scoured French blogs for travel advice, and “met” Corey in doing so.

I read every one of her posts.

I dreamed about what her life must be like in France, the culture,

and brocante, the romance. 

My favorite post still is her poetic recipe for hot chocolate!

 

Mom and I flew to Paris.

 

The taxi ride from CDG airport was terrifying.

“You have been in Paris before?” the taxi driver asked,

 swerving madly around a motorcycle.

“No,” we said. I squeezed my eyes shut, motion sick from the

smell of exhaust, the traffic, the ugly graffiti on the highway walls. 

“I hate this city,” I said to myself.

 

 

 

 

 

A while later, the taxi driver said, “Open your eyes, look, Notre Dame de Paris.”

I looked and saw the cathedral, glowing in the morning light

like a bright pearl. I burst into tears. 

I didn’t know why.

“You have been to Paris before,”

the taxi driver said. “In your heart.”

 

“Maybe,” I whispered. “Yes.”

 

 

 

 

Mom and I wandered cobbled streets and lingered by the Seine

and ate and drank wine and saw the Mona Lisa and

Monet’s Water Lilies and rode to the top of the Eiffel Tower

and sat in the park and fed crepes to sparrows

that flew right up to our fingers. 

Every day, we went into Notre Dame to light candles, to hear vespers. 

 

One night during dinner at a restaurant near Notre Dame,

a French man struck up a conversation with us.

He was charming, funny. He was also uncannily perceptive.

“You are tired,” he said to me suddenly. “You work too hard, no?”

“Did my mother tell you this?” I asked.

“She does not have to. I can see it,” he said.

“And you come from that place in the cold,

with 9 months winter and only 3 months summer?

You are a woman who needs much more of the warm.”

I didn’t know what to say, but inside,

I felt my being say, “Yes.”

 

He walked us to our hotel. Mom smiled at me and ducked inside. 

As he and I walked through winding streets, 

he pulled me inside an ancient doorway and kissed me.

I told you this would get juicy.

He wanted to meet the next night. 

We did, except we left the restaurant earlier,

and my walk with him was longer…

 

He met us on our last night in Paris. He begged me not to work so hard. 

Mom nodded in agreement. 

Then, as we were leaving, he invited me (just me, with a wink at Mom) 

to come back and visit him. 

 

What a dream, I thought, as he bade goodbye. 

I thought of Corey’s blog, her story about finding love

and moving to France.

I looked back at Notre Dame and felt a tug on my heart.

 

I arrived home to an overgrown garden, an overflowing work inbox,

a wedding to play for the next day…

and an email from him. 

We talked on the phone all summer. We got to know each other -

our dreams, wishes, deepest thoughts. 

He really did want me to visit. 

 

So I studied French, read Corey’s blog, ran for miles to get in better shape.

In early October, with Corey’s stories and my own hopes in my mind, 

I flew to Paris.

 

Into the arms of…a stranger. It was him,

but he was not the perceptive, kind person I had gotten to know.

He was cold and distant. “Your plane was late,” he said.

“And you are too thin.” He left me at the apartment and went to work.

I barely saw him.

When I did, he was cruel. One night was so frightening,

I hoped for Liam Neeson to rescue me like in the movie “Taken.”

 

 

 

 

I wandered Paris alone, getting to know her, 

falling in love with her. I was also falling in love with the way

I felt about being in Paris.

I didn’t need him or anyone else to be there.

I could take care of myself. It was clear that Corey’s story

and mine would be very different. 

So I escaped to a tiny room at the tip-top of a hotel.

I disguised myself with a huge scarf over my head. 

 

 

 

 

I sat in Notre Dame for hours, lighting candles, kneeling. 

 

 

 

 

I sat in the backs of cafés and drank hot chocolate and wrote music,

wrote in my journal, wrote to my worried Mom back home that I was fine.

 

And I was fine.

Things had gone wrong with him,

but I was doing what I wanted,

when I wanted, in a city I was loving.

 

 

 

That December, back home, I gave a concert of the new music 

that I had written in Paris. 

 

I mulled over my memories. 

I read Corey’s blog. She and I wrote to each other periodically. 

Every time I talked about my Paris trips,

people would say, “You need to write a book about this!” 

 

Over five years, two trips back to Paris,

and many writing workshops,

I wrote my memoir while still working long hours as a copywriter.

Plus still playing the harp every week.

I had forgotten his words, “Don’t work so hard, you work too much.”

 

One morning, exhausted from pushing myself,

I fainted and fell in the shower,

hitting my head hard at least three times. 

which caused a traumatic brain injury.

which developed severe migraines and fibromyalgia. 

 

My memoir sat, nearly finished.

The harp sat, silent. 

I went through the motions of my life like a ghost.

 For my 50th birthday in December 2017, I felt well enough

to go back to Paris and stayed in Corey’s beautiful apartment.

 

 

It was a healing trip. I spent most of it sitting in Notre Dame,

breathing incense, lighting candles, kneeling on the floor,

grateful to be alive, to have done so many things,

to have learned so many beautiful lessons.

 

 

 

 

Never will I forget Christmas Eve in Notre Dame.

 

 Eventually, I quit my job and am able to be at home now,

managing my pain and recovering. 

Through a practice of gratitude, and feel like I am awakening more and more.

 Recently, I have played my harp

for some Zoom events. 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading through some pages of my memoir, made some notes.

I do believe that one day I will finish and publish it.

 

And then Corey asked me to write a post for her blog -

the blog that has been so inspiring,

a gentle guide to goodness and gratitude,

a place of beauty. 

It was like being asked to make a drink to pour into the holy grail. 

 

I said yes. And here it is. 

A story of writing and music,

Of Paris. Of Notre Dame, my beloved sanctuary,

which I mourn and pray for. 

 

And of my friendship with Corey -

we have never met in person,

but I feel a kindred-spirit love for you,

and appreciate everything you have given to all of us through your blog.

 

 

 

If you’re interested, you can purchase my music here. 

(Note: The Month of January album is sold out at the moment.)

 

Please keep in touch! Follow Amy on Facebook.

 

Amy Kortuem's Website

Thanks Giving

For many of you, this is a very unusual Thanksgiving.

It certainly is for my mother and family

given that it is the first time my mother is celebrating alone,

not preparing her cherished feast,

nor having to chase my brother Marty from biting off the turkey cookies’ heads,

though I bet she is secretly happy not to have had to make those pesky cookies...

and at the same time wishing without a doubt

that my brother Marty would run in and eat every single turkey cookie.

My brother is in the hospital.

 

 

 

A week ago or so my mother called the family

to say she preferred for the family to celebrate Thanksgiving

within their own homes with their families and not come over this year due to Covid,

to be prudent.

 

My mother is first and foremost faithful

in her belief to do what is right and that love prevails. 

Faltering from that would go against who she is as a woman of faith.

I admire my mother's bravery, her strength, her guiding light that she has led us by

without wavering especially when life throws curve balls and the road seems long,

she is a constant source of unending possibilities to lean on. Amazing.

 

 

When I asked her if it was going to be hard to be alone

on Thanksgiving day she replied,

 »It is just another day that is how I am going to look at it.

I am thankful and pray every day in gratitude,

for my family, and those who have asked me to pray for them.

I would rather everyone be safe

than celebrate this one day together. »

 

It is another day to be thankful

in a year that has constantly

reminded us that nothing is certain,

and what is important.

A year where heroes in everyday clothing

have shown us what it means to be counted on,

who have stood up without question and worked tirelessly for humanity.

A year where toilet paper was the golden egg and luxury of safety

was another stab at poverty. 

A year that has brought to focus on how divided our nation

is and made us question reality from fiction.

A year like none other that I have experienced.

 

Nevertheless,

it is another day,

a gift,

like every day, 

every moment

worthy, sacred, and taken for granted at times.

Another day to give thanks,

to pray,

to long,

to live.

 

 

 

Along with Happy Thanksgiving, I would rather ask:

How are you?

Guest Post: Debra Graham

 

Like many of the other blog posters who have shared about themselves here,

I’ve wondered if I should accept Corey’s invitation to tell a bit about my life.

Don’t we all wonder if we are “good enough” or “ interesting enough?

Finally, I thought I’d just throw that doubt out the window.

So here’s a bit about me.

 

 

I’m a native Mainer now living in North Carolina,

a change that has been a real culture shock.

When my husband retires in a few years,

we will move further north and also hope

to live part of the year in France.

It would be wonderful to meet Corey

after reading her blog for so long!

I love everything about French culture.

My husband even proposed to me

at the top of the Eiffel tower,

using a giant fake ring in case

I dropped it over the side!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My work life has been varied but in the last 20 years

I’ve worked in the law in varying capacities,

with a foray into owning a flower shop,

which was partly great fun and equally as stressful.

I’ve been a court reporter and

now organize violent crime cases

in our police department.

It’s never dull though does make me wonder

how people can do the terrible things they do.

 

My admiration for First Responders grows daily.

 

 

 

With my hubby Garry at the Berlin Wall. 

 

 

Like Corey and all of you, I’ve loved antiques for as long as I can remember.

I still have my first “real” purchase- a lovely petite Queen Anne writing desk,

which I found covered in grime at the back of a shop.

A little elbow grease is all that was needed to bring it back to life.

Oh, and purchasing 9 random old skeleton keys to unlock it!

 

 

 

At Marimurtra Botanical Garden in Spain

 

 

Travel and photography are my two passions.

Like the rest of the world, this year’s journey

to the Middle East was postponed-

a great disappointment.

My husband Garry and I have traveled to many

countries together and I hope to many more.

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve filled my spare time roaming back roads

searching for what I call

“Rust and Ruin”-

abandoned houses

and buildings that

call me and my camera.

Garry and are (apparently) renovation addicts

we have spent the last 3 years renovating a lake house in Virginia.

Dare I say this will be our last reno?

We’ve said it before...

 

 

 

The view from the lake house- the blue hydrangeas sold me.

 

 

As this unbelievable year, 2020 nears an end,

I wish everyone health and peace of mind.

Remember to make time

for the small joys in life.

 

 Thank you Corey for the invitation!

 

Follow me on Instagram 

(side note: GORGEOUS photos!!)

Grimescenephotographer

 

~Debra Graham

Lovespeachroses17@yahoo.com

 

Guest Post: Robin Henshaw & Donn Hess

 

"Thank You for Trying"

 

Some 15-ish years ago, my wife and I

were simultaneously struck mad and, at the height of our insanity,

decided it would be a grand idea to buy a 1-bedroom flat in Paris.

We had just welcomed a baby boy into our lives and thought,

“What better time than now to embark upon an ill-planned

and extremely expensive adventure?”

 

 

In fairness to our younger selves,

we did have several things going for us.

I’d studied high school French

and could inform people that I was going to the beach

or tell them whether it was or was not currently raining.

My wife had an impeccable fashion sense

and knew how to point to things that she liked on a French menu.

Both of us were surprised but undaunted when neither of these skills

proved adequate to negotiate

a foreign real estate contract.

 

Fortunately, the universe and, apparently, France, smile upon idiots.

We watched an episode of House Hunters International

and learned of a New Yorker who specialized in helping Americans buy

Parisian property.

She found us an apartment we could (mostly) afford

and introduced us to an expatriate couple who’d sold

everything they owned to move from Texas to Paris,

arriving with little more than a stack

of French flashcards and a willingness

to do whatever it took to live their dreams.

We asked them if they’d like to manage vacation rentals of our flat,

newly acquired in the heart of the Neuvieme Arrondissement’s

bars, brothels, and strip clubs.

They marketed the neighborhood as

a “lively and authentic French experience”

and welcomed countless visitors over the years that followed.

 

 

After that, we did have occasional bouts of lucidity and

would ask one another, “What have we done?”

But each time, the food, wine, and beauty of Paris would romance us

and drive us mad once again.

In the early days, we treasure hunted the brocantes,

sailed toy boats with our son around the Jardin du Luxembourg fountains,

and carted him on our shoulders through the streets

for the Fetes des Vendanges.

Later, we would host dinners for friends, take in plays,

and enjoy concerts.

We would negotiate for water with the confused drag queens at Chez Michou

who didn’t understand

that there was only so much champagne we could drink.

We would drag our jet-lagged selves to Corso Trudaine,

because we had to have that one special dish the minute we got to town.

Slowly we transitioned from repeat tourists to entrenched residents.

Paris stopped being a beloved destination and became our second home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our mastery of the language improved only marginally.

I was forced to add “that is broken” and “there is a leak” to my French vocabulary,

but still kept my verbs in the present tense and responded to most questions

with an enthusiastic, if half-witted, smile.

This mystified people in the States.

“If you aren’t fluent, aren’t the Parisians really rude to you?” they would ask.

 

This always puzzled us. “No,” we would say. “Never.”

 

But nobody believed us.

Once, at an ungodly hour of the morning,

in the back of a cab headed for the airport,

the driver, having learned where we were headed, said,

“Parisians are terrible to Americans. They hate anyone who doesn’t speak French.”

 

“Have you ever been to a store or a fast-food restaurant

where one of the customers didn’t speak English?” I asked him.

 

He shifted a little uncomfortably and said that he had.

 

“I promise you no one in France has ever treated me as badly

as the Americans treated that person.”

 

There was some more uncomfortable silence

before the driver admitted, “I see your point.”

 

 

 

 

 

 We have watched the proprietress of a cozy café listen patiently

while our American 4-year-old nattered on and on

about his favorite cartoon characters.

We’ve described needed repairs to locksmiths and electricians

with awkward pantomime.

We’ve arranged furniture deliveries relying on

scribbled addresses and confused shrugs.

Every time, the Parisians were nothing but lovely.

 

Once, dining on the Ile St. Louis, the restaurant owner

came to our table and said, in English,

“I want to thank you for speaking French.”

 

“You are very kind,” I answered in French. “

But we don’t speak it very well.”

(The literal translation of what I said was probably closer to,

“Nice is what you are and very good.

I am and she is speaking,

but it is in a bad way that is not good.”)

 

“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “Thank you for trying.”

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve learned much from owning our small flat.

For example, even if you plan to spend hours watching a small child

bounce himself to exhaustion on a trampoline in the Tuileries,

you should still drink your wine from glasses—never plastic!—

because we are a civilized species.

We also learned that the best restaurants are those

you find unexpectedly down a barely traveled street.

But ultimately, for us, the best lesson from

our Parisian experience has been the reminder that,

even in this most beautiful, elegant,

and glamorous places, people are all too willing to help.

In return, they ask only what any of us want from one another,

no matter our creed, color, or country.

 

They only want us to try.

 

 

 

 

Follow Robin on Facebook

Follow Donn Hess on Facebook

Guest Post: Lieselotte Maria Fritsch

 

Hello Everyone,

My name is Lieselotte,

I live in a valley

right in the center of Austria,

surrounded by mountains and forests.

My husband Dieter and I were lucky to get to know Corey and Yann

a couple of years ago when they were on a motorbike tour through Austria.

We found them “très sympathique“;

but anyone who has had the chance to know them personally will know what I mean.

 

Corey was fascinated by what she called “coffee hopping in the alps“ –

the fact that you can hike from one mountain chalet restaurant to the next for a coffee

(with milk fresh from the cows around you),

homemade cake, or meals.

She also introduced me to the "Sound of Music"

The church on top of a hill near our village

must have reminded me of that film scenery (frankly, it does quite look like it).

We visited each other again a couple of times in the following years.

and again here.

 

On one of these occasions- I think it was in summer 2013 –

Corey took me to a Brocante in a small village called

Entrecasteaux in Provence on a Sunday morning, and we spotted:

Brangelina.

We later sat near them in a very deserted Creperie, pretending not to know who they are

they didn't recognize us, either.

 

 

Some summers later, in 2017, Dieter and I (and dog Luna)

were on the way to Spain by car.

We were near Corey's and Yann's we decided to ring their doorbell unannounced.

We were so lucky -  Corey was home.

Her mouth wide open with surprise naturellement she asked,

“Did I miss something on my calendar?“

We spent a good time catching up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I have only just retired from my job as an English teacher for Secondary School students.

I loved my job very much until a depression from severe exhaustion forced me to quit,

and I started my quarantine a year before Covid -19 turned up.

Recovery is very slow,

and I have to take things easy,

supported by my caring husband, our son George who is 24, and our beautiful dog Luna.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our beautiful countryside is very inviting

for walks and bicycle rides, and there is enough space to keep a safe distance

from other walkers, joggers, and cyclists.

After resting in the mornings, trying to recharge my energy batteries

with the help of meditation, I spend as much time as I can outdoors.

I have a big garden to tame and test my energy level in.

In the long and dark evenings at this time of the year,

I knit or binge-watch English films.

 

Also, I enjoy drawing.

 

 

 

These unusual times have taught many of us

that we only need very little to live happily.

I think we carry the essential things

inside our own hearts –

one positive aspect of this crisis could be

a chance to learn

to look

and listen

inside to find them.

 

 

(Sidenote: One of my favorite photos of Lieselotte: her hair!)

 

Follow Lieselotte on Facebook

Guest Post: Gina Baynham

 

 

I first came upon Corey‘s blog in 2007 accidentally

as I sat in my kitchen in Australia

helping my 7-year-old daughter to research a school project.

The link Google brought me to was a story

about gold bead necklaces  traditionally gifted to

young girls in Marseille to mark special occasions as they grew up.

I was captivated. For a brief moment

I was unaware of my messy kitchen, the pile of laundry waiting to be done,

 and young kids running around asking me to do things for them.

I came back to her blog later that night when the kids

were tucked up in bed and I scrolled through story after story. 

 

 

 

In Corey‘s blog, I found a place to escape

where I could look at beautiful photographs and

read stories of French culture and experiences.

It brought me back to my childhood.

Every July my parents would pack up the car

and we would go on the overnight ferry to Le Havre

to embark on a driving adventure around France.

For four weeks we stayed in small campsites

eating baguettes and soft cheese and fruit,

so much fruit.

It was so very different than my normal life in Ireland.

Our holidays in France were a reprieve from the rain, from school, from chores.

It was exciting, colorful and the smells as we walked through markets

were of foods I had never tasted and flowers I had never seen.

Corey‘s blog brought those images back into my head so vividly

I could smell the flowers and feel the warm sun on my skin. 

 

 

It was around this time that my dad in Ireland became unwell.

Over the next few years, he was diagnosed with dementia.

I was living in Australia with my husband and three children

the distance was difficult to manage.

Corey put a blog post up about some little trinkets she had found in the brocante

and asked people to comment if they wanted to be sent one of the items.

Amongst the images, I saw a small religious medal.

I felt such a strong connection to it.

When Corey messaged to say she would send it to me I asked her instead

to send it to my father in Ireland.

I’m not sure if Dad ever understood why

an American woman in France had sent him an unexpected letter

with a small religious medal but he understood enough

to know that it was “Gina‘s friend”. 

 

 

2005

 

When Dad died I made the long journey back to Ireland

where we held Dad's wake in the house.

On a small table next to the coffin lay some precious items

that meant a lot to Dad. His watch, his cufflinks,

a small crucifix, and Corey’s medal.

I put the medal in my pocket, held it tight as I hugged my family goodbye,

then boarded the long flight back to Australia on my own. 

 

Over the years I feel like I have shared Corey’s life.

I remember feeling so excited when I read that her daughter had become engaged.

I watched the wedding on FaceTime live and it felt like I was there walking

in the cobblestones and throwing the confetti!

It has been a privilege to be granted access to Corey and her family. 

 

 

 

We live in a time where we are told not to place our personal details online.

We warn our kids not to befriend people they have not met in real life.

And yet I am forever grateful for the Google search

that accidentally brought Corey into my life.

She is a beautiful person and I know she inspires

so many people with her words and images. 

 

 

What exactly do you call someone that you have never actually met in person?

An acquaintance?

A friend?

Or in the case of Corey Amaro…

A wonderful woman who helps us find beauty

in small things,

feel love and hope

just when we need it most.

xo

______________

 

 

 

 

Follow Gina Baynham on Facebook

Read more of her life as a wife, mother, nurse, hiker, and extraordinarily fun person

 

 

Guest Post: Linda Morrison

 

I am a finder, and maker.

I am a 67-year-old woman, 

I am lucky 

I am happy

And I found my tribe.

 

 

I hate to travel, but the opportunity to spend a week roaming around Provence 

with Corey as a guide seemed like a worthwhile endeavor.  

Corey took us to a small market in her village,  

while the others in the group shopped and wandered,  

I watched as the vendors did a dance that was familiar to me.  

I loved being a street vendor, 

 

 

 

For many years I sold at a weekly flea market in Seattle,  

I loved the pace of my Sunday mornings.

Unloading the van, putting my tent up, going for coffee with my Fremont friends,

Pursuing the wares, hunting for a hidden treasure before returning to set up my own wares,

Then petting the dogs, chatting with customers, and selling my offerings.  

With the pace and swirl of it all, I recognized that same swirl in vendors in France.  

In fact, I have never been to any Flea market that I did not. 

That is my tribe, I know the dance. The language barrier was frustrating.

I wanted to tell them I know you.  I understand your day.  

But instead, I watched and wished that I could join them.

 

 

 

 

I started my street selling at a young age,

I grew up on an idyllic bit of a farm. 

It was my job to work the farm stand in the summer,

my uncle Joe sold Dungeness crab that he had pulled from traps

hours before and I sold whatever was ripe, laying, or blooming on the farm.  

My future husband remembers when he was around 8 years old

driving by our farm stand one day,

I was yelling at cars to stop and buy these damn flowers.  

That was the beginning of my retail training

 

 

 

I honed my trade by doing Markets and small boutique shows.  

I was talking to my husband's oncologist.

She asked about a show that we were hoping he would feel well enough to do.  

She asked what it was like,

I told her it was like a very prestigious oncologist convention,

except we are all a bit shabby and not as educated,  

That is a show I do in Spokane Washington, it is what is considered

by most to be the creme de la creme of shows here on the west coast.  

I have been included in this show for 10+ years.

And every year I have the same emotion about it.  

I feel a bit shy like I am worried that my booth,

my stuff won’t be up to the standard that is expected.  

These are my peers, my tribe elders. I want them to know that I belong with them.  

I wait, and a few come by. They nod or buy.

That's the thumbs up I need to go on.  

It is a heady weekend.

A gathering.  

And even though I don’t really have the energy to do it as much anymore.  

I still want to be a part of that.

 Feel the comradely.

The laughs, the customers screaming as they run inside.  

Hard to let go.

 

 

I spend my days now as  a shopkeeper, my store is a 5000 sq ft space,

that I split with a real “antique dealer” filled to the brim.  

Luluz & co,

it’s in Tacoma Washington on a street called, Antique Row.  

On a good day, I would say it has a European-influenced vintage vibe.

On other days I think I could do better,

My instinct tells me 14 ft ladders are not a good idea at this age

Nor is pushing and shoving stuff around is not so much of an option as it used to be.

If I could I would travel from show to show setting up and selling.  

But my body isn’t cooperating, it's hard work.

If  I were a millionaire, I would be doing exactly that,

Only hire a team to set up and takedown.  

But for now, I have a quirky store filled with odd bits and pieces along with the items I create.

My dogs are happy here,

 

 

as is my 20-year-old cat

Lily

she has people come by just to pet her.

 

 

My beautiful amazing husband died 4 years ago, my life has changed.  

I am getting older, my knees and shoulders hurt,  

my enthusiasm for creating a booth worthy of an opera isn’t there anymore.

 

I still create.

 

Now, the tribe comes to me.  

 

 

 

 

I sit under a ridiculously over festooned pink tent and make stuff.  

My French mother had the remarkable ability to make everyday things beautiful.  

All that I treasure most about myself I got from her.  

She wasn’t particularly warm or caring as a mother to a scrawny only child.  

But she did show me what living a beautiful life was like.  

We were not extravagantly wealthy.  

But it looked like we were.  

A basket of fresh eggs on the counter was a bit of art,

the summer brass and iron beds placed around the farm

with duvets and pillows on them.  

Waiting for a hot summer night or an afternoon nap

after a long bit of reading are etched into me like a religion.  

In fact, that was my mother's, Frona's, religion.  

Creating beauty.

 

 

 

In turn, I love beautiful things,  

not a traditional beauty,

but imperfect beauty.  

Beauty to me is a white ironstone bowl with crazing, a piece of architecture with peeling paint,

a Santos hand without a body.

Every day I get to look at items like this,

treasure them and then send them off to the next owner.

And while it isn’t exactly like selling on the street,

I do have my store on a street that is filled with personalities:

The nudist, the ex-rock star that dresses in tight jeans,

a lovely ex-diplomat, and a retired judge that is a dandy.  

It’s still my tribe.

This is a business filled with folks just outside the box.  

Gypsies, artists, risk-takers, the disenfranchised more than the stuff

I love the people.

 

"I am going to make everything

around me beautiful

That will be my life."

Elsie de Wolfe

 

 

In a year like this last one has been,

I have found myself many a time thinking about all the joy

I have gotten from being a part of this business.

I think back on the beautiful market I helped create in an old navy air hanger in Seattle,

the night setting up while snow drifted in some of the broken  2 story windows,

I remember early morning at willow nest in the fog with deer dancing through the booths.  

I remember Fremont in mid-summer and

the hippy woman selling pot brownies before they were legal.  

I remember how much I have loved every part of being a junker,  

as this odd year comes to an end

 

I am grateful. 

 

 

Follow Linda on Facebook

Linda's shop

Luluz et Co.

755 Broadway, Tacoma, WA 98402, United States

 

Guest Post: Cy Todd

 

Hi Everyone!

 

I don't know about you, but when I got a message from Corey,

asking me to consider doing a guest post on her blog,

well... I had just finished reading about Rebecca the Metropolitan Opera singer in NYC,

and thought... how do I follow that?

  Then I read about Jennifer in New Zealand,

and again, I'm thinking... how do I follow that? 

Then I gave up. 

What could possibly be of interest to Corey's readers about my life? 

And besides, she probably wrote to all her followers,

so she will never miss me. 

WRONG!! 

Yesterday I got a little "reminder" that she would love to hear from me. 

Oh dear... well, here goes...

 

 

 

 

 

I'm an American, living in the South of France. 

Maybe that's interesting?

I landed here about twelve years ago, with my work. 

I work for CRU, a Christian organization, doing

Leadership Development Consulting, from a Christian point of view.

It's been gratifying.

I'm NOT looking forward to retiring and moving back to the USA.

  I love living in Europe and have actually lived most of my life

in Germany, Russia, and now France.

 

  They say we become "third culture" people

not quite American anymore,

and not completely European. 

I've experienced that whenever I go home to Florida/Michigan each year-

well, not in 2020. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

An artist's drawing of my village: Cagnes-sur-Mer. 

It's a charming village, on the Mediterranean,

complete with fishing boats and palm trees on the main avenue. 

 

 

Not far from my village is the Principality of Monaco. 

This is the inside of their main shopping mall at Christmas, 2019.

There's a stark comparison. That's interesting.

 

 

 

How did I meet Corey?

 

I met Corey once, many years ago, when I first arrived here. 

I was researching blogs about France, and up popped "Tongue in Cheek". 

I LOVE antiques so I called Corey and arranged to meet up. 

She was doing a sale in her friend's home,

so it was the perfect afternoon excursion.

While there, I found a beautiful old (obviously!)

painting of some lilacs,

a still life, with a dark, smokey patina. 

It jumped off the wall, into my arms, and a good thing too,

because just as I was paying for it,

Corey's husband Yann mentioned 

that he was eyeing it for his office. 

Sorry, Yann.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life in the South of France has had its ups and downs. 

The ups are the friends, the wine, the food,

the sunshine and the sea! 

The downside is that I've been fighting uterine cancer

for the last twenty months. 

Right now, feeling really well. 

And thankful every day that I was able

to get my cancer treatments here in France

where healthcare is affordable and high quality.

Here I am wearing my "chemo shirt",

made by a friend, with a velcro "pocket"

covering my chemo port -

this way you don't have to take your shirt off

to get chemo.

Brilliant!

 

 

 

 

Despite Covid19 in 2020,

I'm living every day to the fullest... as best I can. 

In September I went back to Venice Italy

for a wonderful week-long vacation. 

I LOVE Venice and have been there six times since 2018. 

It only costs about $60 round trip to fly there from here!

If I could, when I retire,

rather than return to the USA,

I would move to Venice.

But that's probably just a pipe dream. 

I would do it in a minute if the

the opportunity presented itself. 

My Christmas flight there got canceled,

so we'll see what happens in 2021.

 

 

 

Follow Cy on FaceBook

and Linkin

Guest Post: Annie Lockhart

 

I’m so excited to be a guest here!

I met Corey through blogging when we both

were just starting out blogging back in 2006.

 

 

I, along with several others where invited

to a wonderful BLOGGERS tea party/slumber party

in her hometown in gorgeous Northern California.

My grown children were a little concerned

that I would travel to someone’s home that I had never even met in person.

They called my blogging friends my imaginary friends.

 

 

 

Little did they know that some of my favorite people

are those that I initially met through blogging,

and teaching at my Soulful Painting retreats & workshops

I offer across the country.

I love how women (and, some men) gather to nurture themselves

and others at all kinds of retreats, almost always coming away with lifelong friendships

that may have not otherwise happened.

This is what happened that sweet weekend in California

So, yes, as I mentioned I’m an intuitive artist/painter,

and facilitate others to trust and tap into their creative goodness.

 

 

 

I have a passion for nature, stories, history, layers of a life lived, 

 intrigued with common and out of the ordinary objects 

that translate into a symbolic language

a language that is universal stories layered just beneath the surface.

My simple mission is to express how I see this beautiful world, 

how to learn and grow from my life's lessons, 

and how to take hold of my dreams and make them into real tangible life.

I love the ocean, the color periwinkle, peonies, and blue bell ice cream, 

the laughter of my children and grandchildren, 

a full moon, sunsets, music that makes my soul stir, 

and dancing to that same music. I enjoy teaching workshops 

because it's sharing at its best with like-minded people.  

More than anything is having my family 

being the center of my world they are my greatest inspiration and gifts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My love for vintage lead way to having had a funky antiques store & eatery Mabel Annie’s

where I would also teach at art retreats like Art Unraveled, Art Fest, and Art & Soul.

during five years in our sweet tiny tourist town just north of Kansas City.

Mabel Annie’s was featured in Romantic Homes

that opened up many opportunities to meet people from all over the world.

How thankful I was for the people that would walk through my shop 

it always felt like meant to be encounters.

 

 

 

 

In the first years of married life my husband would ask me,

“So, how did you do today?”

(Meaning sales.)

I would say, ”I’m not sure, but, I met the neatest couple from Topeka,

or maybe something along the lines of

“a fun group of women were in town for a girl's trip and we talked and talked.”

 

 

He’d roll his eyes and think, we’re in trouble.

But, as time went on, he changed his question to,

“So, who did you meet today?”

Perfecto! 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m originally from Texas, but have been here in the Midwest for 26 years.

That’s still hard to believe. We had a beach home on Galveston Island

for several years and that helped a lot during the cold cold Midwest winters.

I’m pretty sure that’s how I’ve survived here for so long.

I worked for Southwest Airlines for ten years

that afforded me to take off on a whim

something I never took for granted.

 

 

 

 

I have five grown children, and we are raising three small grandchildren.

They call themselves my ‘bonus’ kids.

 It's different raising a child on this second time around.

Things that would have not been allowed before, are now, not that big of a deal.

We choose our 'battles' I like that, they like that too, not that they know any different.

I do know my limits, and when I feel like I'm at the end of my rope

Papa comes to the rescue or and vise-versa.

There are many evenings after they fall asleep that my husband and I

just look at one another and say,

"Whew, we did it another day we give ourselves a high five,

hitting the sack much earlier than I would imagine we would if it were just us.

As I write that...it seems such a strange thought. 

Like I said...we are the lucky ones! 

It wasn’t exactly what I had planned for this chapter of my life,

but it’s not a sharp poke in the eye, either.

They bring un-measurable blessings into our lives. 

 

 

 

 

 

Follow Annie on Instagram

Facebook

check out her incredible book on Amazon.

And Annie's Etsy account.

 

Guest Post: Chris Ulichney

When Corey invited her followers to share their stories,

it seemed like the least I could do in thanks for all the beauty,

positivity and joy she has shared with us.

I have not had the pleasure of meeting Corey in person,

but it could have happened more easily four years ago.

Let me explain. My husband, Mick, teaches at Savannah College of Art and Design.

SCAD has four campuses. One of them is in Lacoste, France.

Mick was offered the chance to teach there for a quarter in January 2017.

Prior to leaving for France, a friend, Rita Szarka, who had met Corey

when she owned an antique shop in town,

mentioned that I should follow the Tongue in Cheek blog.

I’m so glad she did!

With much preparation and excitement, my husband and I

left the day after Christmas for nine weeks at the SCAD campus in the medieval town of Lacoste.

Lacoste is relatively near Corey’s home by car.

Unfortunately, we did not have a car at our disposal.

We used school vans to transport students to local markets in Isle Sur la Sorge and Apt.

We traveled to Nimes, Paris, Avignon, Lyon, and Marseilles.

It was an amazing experience.

While my husband taught, I volunteered in the school library

and helped drive students to various events.

The experience will stay in my heart always.

I hope to return to France one day and finally

meet Corey and thank her for the daily reminders

of that special time in my life.

 

A street scene in Lacoste.

 

Mick and I in the Opera House in Paris

 

 

Mick and I on the aqueduct in Nîmes.

 

 

Views from our apartment and from the hillside of Lacoste.

 

What was my life like before and after Lacoste?

I was born and raised in beautiful Ohio and was the third child in a family of six kids.

My 97-year-old lively mother and four of my siblings still live in Ohio.

One sister resides in North Carolina.

 

Carol, Mark, Paul, Mom, myself, Anita, Janet

 

I met my artist husband in college in our first class, an art course.

Later we married and raised two sons who are very talented guys.

Both live now in California.

I am a retired Language Arts teacher. I loved my 34 years teaching middle school students

and stay in touch with many of them still.

In 2008 my husband applied for a job at SCAD and was accepted.

We left Ohio after living there for over 50 years and made a home for ourselves in Bluffton SC,

across the river from Savannah, Georgia.

This area is filled with beautiful history, nature and weather,

but I admit my heart sorely miss seeing our sons and my original family.

It took a while to adjust to my new location. Time has helped.

I eventually began some volunteering with two groups that had special meaning for me.

 Born to Read is an organization

that encourages new parents to read to their babies starting at infancy. 

Reading to children has proven to be one of the best ways to build vocabulary,

thinking, and listening skills.  It truly prepares children for school. 

In my volunteer role, I visit new mothers at the local hospital and share a bag filled with information,

books, a shirt, and a bib to promote the Born to Read program. 

Sadly, I cannot visit the moms during this coronavirus time.

Of course, both are on hold right now.

Besides volunteering, I love to cook, read, sew, golf, walk, and ride a bicycle.

I prepare meals daily and have been reading a lot during this homebound time.

To remain creative and productive, quilting has become an interest of mine.

I usually make baby quilts for family members and other items for people I love.

 

This quilt was started in 1979 and finished over 30 years later!

 

T- a quilt for a nephew; B- a quilt for a guest bedroom

 

 

This is a spare baby quilt that I made just to play with these colors.

 

 

 

My family – Max, Mick, myself and Justin

Our family members are always described as creative, and they truly are.

My husband is a very hardworking, handsome, and good man.

He rides motorcycles, golfs, boats, bicycles and is always busy.

He paints contemporary canvases in his spare time. 

 

 

Chris and her sons.

 

Our older son, Max, was born an artist.

He worked for years as a special effect artist for commercials

and movies while living in Santa Monica.

To relax from his long hours at work,

he would unwind by drawing on his iPad using the Procreate app.

He has a big following worldwide and has been

featured in magazines and invited internationally

to make presentations.

Eventually, Max created more usable digital brushes for the app.

He is self-employed with his company, Max Packs.

 

Our younger son, Justin, lives in Encinitas with his lovely girlfriend.

Justin has a very outgoing personality and is a salesman for a living.

He has always had an artist’s eye for photography.

We are so impressed by his zest for life,

his love of animals, and his beautiful photos

I’m very proud of all of my guys.

We have not been able to visit our sons in a year.

They were scheduled to visit this past March but canceled

when the virus became so threatening.

 

 

 

Other than missing my sons so much, it is no secret

that there is something else I long for.

At age 69 I am not yet a mother-in-law or grandmother.

In my hopes to invite those special people into my life,

I purchased an antique baby rattle from Corey

and had it made into a necklace.

I hope when I wear it that this sweet item inspires the universe

to fill that void. Dropping hints with my sons has not worked!

Thank you for reading my very long blog submission.

As a former teacher, I love words and writing.

 

 

I have greatly admired all the women and men who have shared their talents

and stories earlier!

May you all stay safe productive and have a purpose that fills your heart.

Sincerely, Chris Ulichney

 

I can be reached at chrisulichney@gmail.com

or on Facebook

Guest Post: Shelley Wildgen

 

I've been an avid Corey follower for the past ten years or so,

having first been introduced to her transformative writing

in a magazine article, she wrote about her 'French Husband'. 

Corey's story and pictures sent me immediately to her blog

and I've been entranced ever since.

 

 

 

  I love Corey's perspective of being immersed in a land that is so different,

yet equally as beautiful as her California origins...

and of course, all the characters that go with her stories.

For my part, I have a background in writing,

broadcasting, friending, teaching, and mothering.

 

 

 

 

 

I live part of my life in Belleville, Ontario, Canada, and

the other part in North Wiltshire, Prince Edward Island, Canada. 

Belleville is filled with stately, brick homes, and a lifetime of friends and memories

while North Wiltshire is a land of colorful clapboards surrounded

by an ocean of fun and mystery. 

I love both places equally and as a freelance writer,

I find inspiration around every corner. 

 

 

My two kids are fully grown now

and after the death of my second husband a couple of years ago,

I found it to be a perfect time to visit France, meet Corey,

and get a first-hand sampling of the geography

surrounding her interesting life.

It was the trip of a lifetime

I'd fully recommend a month's stay at Corey's 'house next door'

to anyone who loves quiet village life,

church bells, mountain trails, and relaxing under all that is France.

 

 

Now, during Covid times, life has rolled me into another beautiful chapter. 

I've fallen in love with a Canadian man

who lives near Corey's home in California.

  It took being in my sixties to be so lucky. 

My beau Peter is the brother of my friend, Mark, here in Belleville. 

When Mark was rushed to hospital I found Peter's name on Mark's Facebook page

figuring his brother would be a good place to find out more information about my friend...

and unexpectedly that led to so much more.

We are blissfully, passionately, contentedly in love.

Mark is doing better and will soon leave the hospital.

 

 

 

In the words of Harry Chapin,

favorite storyteller,

"All my life's a circle"

...a really cozy, fancifully-filled circle

within our small world.

Best,
Shelley Wildgen

 

A French Love Letter Says a Lot with a Few Words

Words from the French letter above...

 

My Darling,

Received,

Yesterday,

"After"

tranquility ...

 

Guest Post Please Send Me Yours

 

Haven't the guest posts been lovely introducing us to each other in a more intimate way discovering who we

are over these many years from comments? Artists, Lawyers, Singers, Homemakers, Lovers of life, and goodness sharing in faith a bit of themselves revealing more than a name. 

There are so many of you, actually all of you I would like to hear from will you give it a go send me an email with a bit about yourself? 

I know I am not the only one who would be pleased.

 

 

Our stories are a few lines in the great book

connecting lives past present and yet to come

 weaving lives lived and loved,

tangled and tango,

step by step

intricately together yet apart.

 

Okay, this isn't a great book but it is a part of my life

shared in fragments over fifteen years

in which you have played a part.

I am grateful for your being here checking in

encouraging my cooking,

praying for me and my family,

laughing at my few jokes 

giving a nod to my brocante passion

coming to visit me

most of all your comments 

all 150,337 of them on 6391 posts and over

ten thousand photos I lost count.

 

 

I am gently challenging you to send me something about yourself

a longer comment, a poem you enjoy, a mantra, a recipe, photos, a bit about yourself.

I know these are trying times and some of you are going through difficult days ...

Share your story of the joy and or of the struggle, God knows I have and your

guidance has been meaningful to me.

Tell me a bit about yourself

because I would like that

and those of you reading this would like it too.

I hope to post Guest Posts throughout the rest of November.

 

I await your guest post. 

please send to 

coreyamaro@aol.com

 

 

 

Men’s Health Awareness Month: Movember

 

 

During the last few years in November I

(Sacha) have taken part in the trend of growing

my beard and or mustache as a way to draw

attention towards

The National Men's Awareness Month.

 

But this year for 

The National Men's Awareness Month 

I am taken it a step further.

 

By joining the Fundraiser efforts and doing my part to help...

 

I am selling many of my original photographs for the first time.

The proceeds will go to

The Distinguished Gentlemen’s Ride,

an organization sponsored by Movember.

(The National Men's Awareness Month.)

 

Check out their page: www.gentlemansride.com

 

 

 

Photograph sale #13 California, Pink Clouds 2020

 

 

 

 

Photograph Sale #2, Seattle Moon Rising 2020

 

 

Photograph Sale #1, Seattle Skyline 2020

 

 

 

Photograph Sale #3, Willows, Foothills 2020

 

 

 

 

Photograph Sale #10, Venice 2019

 

 

 

Photograph sale #11 California, Rolling Hills 2020

 

 

 

Photograph sale #9 Venice, Rialto Bridge 2019

 

 

 

Photograph sale #7 Italy, Lake Garda 2019

 

 

 

 

Sacha's Photograph for Movember Men's Health Awareness FundRaiser

#6

California, Windmill 2020

 

 

 

Sacha's Photograph for Movember Men's Health Awareness FundRaiser

#5 California, Nest

 

 

 

Photograph Sale #5 Seattle, Guitar 2020

 

___

 

 

My photographs are 17 x 22 inches on high-quality paper

 

$100 apiece (shipping worldwide included).

https://www.instagram.com/sacha_rollandbenis/?hl=en

 

 

Send me an email:

 

Sacha.rollandbenis@gmail.com

 

for more information with the number of the photograph

that you would like to purchase profits 

go to Movember.

 

 

PayPal only.

All currencies accepted.

Payment upfront.

Shipping ASAP.

No returns

 

 

More information about Men’s Health Awareness

 

1. Men’s Health Network – www.menshealthnetwork.org

2. MHN YouTube – www.youtube.com/user/MHNMedia

3. Men’s Health Resource Center – www.menshealthresourcecenter.com

4. Show Us Your Blue – www.twibbon.com/Support/mens-health-awareness

5. Prostate Health Guide – http://www.prostatehealthguide.com/

6. Men’s Health Month – http://www.menshealthmonth.org/

 

Thank you in advance for taking part in this fundraiser.

 

Sacha

 

Guest Post: Kathie Baker

“I Died at the Bataclan in Paris,”

in commemoration of November 13, 2015

By Laureano Soares – Montréal, Québec, Canada

Translated from Portuguese by Katharine F. Baker and Emanuel Melo

 

“I Died at the Bataclan in Paris,”

in commemoration of November 13, 2015

By Laureano Soares – Montréal, Québec, Canada

Translated from Portuguese by Katharine F. Baker and Emanuel Melo

 

For a brief moment, I felt the pain

my twitching eyes closed,

My hands and my fingers clenched

life poured out of me, I fell to the floor.

 

I could no longer hear screams or moans;

my body was covered with a sheet

and never again shall I see sunlight,

I didn’t have the fragile good luck of the wounded.

 

I’ll never set foot on the road

that I saw in the distance with tenderness,

it was all over. A sordid and sad end.

 

I was one of those chosen from among the masses

a victim of wars, of ideals,

I was another Abel in Cain’s clutches."

 

After five grueling years of classical Latin from grades 8 to 12 in the Berkeley public schools, I swore I’d never study another foreign language again as long as I lived.  So of course I wound up in mid-life learning another language and becoming a translator! Cue ironic laughter.

But why Portuguese?  Because after my widowed father died, I discovered that my family had hidden his Portuguese ancestry from me all my life, so I wanted to learn about my stolen heritage. Here’s how my family’s Watercress Soup led to my pinpointing where in the Azores my paternal grandparents were born:

“From soup to nuts: How a family recipe drove me crazy searching for my Azorean roots”

I didn’t plan on becoming a translator, only to learn enough Portuguese to go to the Azores to research my genealogy. Obviously, the situation got out of hand, but I couldn’t be happier about it.  Here’s a funny story about how I became a translator:

“All Hail, Blue, and Gold!” (Cal fans will recognize the song)

 

HOW I MET COREY

One of the early works I translated – My Californian Friends: Poesia, by Vasco Pereira da Costa – included a long poem about a Holy Ghost Festa, titled “Queen Nancy.”  As the September 2009 publication date for the bilingual edition loomed, I began preparing a website in support of the book, but since I’d grown up having never heard of the Festa I realized I needed background material. A lot of background material.

 

Internet searches yielded plenty of factual descriptions that were useful but academic, while what I really wanted was a first-person account, complete with feelings. That’s when I found links to two consecutive days’ posts about the previous year’s Festa in a small town in the north of California’s Central Valley, so skillfully written and illustrated with photos that I practically felt I was there with the author (guess who!):

I was so eager to reproduce some of this material on my website that I immediately sent Corey an email out of the blue requesting permission – promising appropriate attribution, of course – to which she promptly and graciously consented.  That’s also when I began following her blog daily.

Two years later I had the opportunity to visit France in order to present a talk on my work at the 5th International Colloquium, “The Voice and Choice of Portuguese Women in the Diaspora in France and Elsewhere,” held at the Université Paris Ouest – Nanterre La Défense. Months before, I’d submitted an abstract proposing discussion of the poem “Queen Nancy,” which conference organizers approved.  Afterward, I abridged my talk (including references to Corey’s work) for the website:

Best of all, Farmboy Husband and I were able to take several days’ vacation before the conference, so we seized the opportunity to ask Corey if we could come to visit her and Yann in their Provençal village one weekend.  This was before they had guest houses available, so Yann made reservations for us at a tiny B&B only a couple blocks from their house.

Once in Paris, Farmboy Husband and I bought round-trip tickets for the high-speed train (TGV) between Gare de Lyon and Marseille.  On the appointed day, we learned the hard way that TGV train doors slam shut automatically and irrevocably – right after Farmboy Husband boarded but before I could step onto our car, leaving me stranded behind on the platform as the train pulled out. Very long story short, I was placed on the next hour’s TGV to Marseille (even in a complimentary first-class car, despite holding only a coach ticket!).

This hiccup behind us, we had a delightful time with Corey and Yann (and also met Chelsea, albeit fleetingly; Sacha was away on his gap year in California at the time, but we’ll catch up with him someday). We loved everything about our visit, including side-trips to Cassis (our first view of the Mediterranean Sea), a walk along a 2,000-year-old Roman road (Gallia est omnis divisa in partes tres), a long memorable homemade dinner at Corey and Yann’s house (the guys went out for a pastis afterward!), and of course their adopted home village.  BTW, everything you’ve heard about the wonderful French bread, pastries, and cheeses is true.  

Here are a few photos of our Provence visit.

 

MY TRANSLATING

I’m a tortoise rather than a hare, so I keep plodding away almost daily at my work, which I love.  I prefer translating books, essays, and poetry by living authors, so I can email the writer whenever I have a question about anything that confuses me.  Most of “my” authors reside in or are originally from the Azores.  My most recent book – the English translation of the novel Smiling in the Darkness by Adelaide Freitas on Amazon on which I worked intermittently for almost a decade! – took a team of four to translate, as it was a difficult text, but ultimately well worth the effort.

Just our rotten luck, though, for it to be published right as the pandemic was spreading in early spring, so holding a formal in-person book-launch became an impossibility.  This week, a virtual launch was finally held online, in which four speakers plus a host ably presented aspects of the novel.  Here’s the link to the launch video, courtesy of Fresno State University’s Portuguese Beyond Borders Institute:

My Translator’s Note about the novel is also posted online on the Azores government’s literary website, explaining a bit of background, including why Moby-Dick was one of the inspirations for the book

Here are other book translations I’ve worked on that are still in print:

Dias, Eduardo Mayone. The Portuguese Presence in California, trans. Katharine F. Baker, Bobby J. Chamberlain, PhD., and Diniz Borges. San Jose, CA.: Portuguese Heritage Publications of California, 2009.

 

Costa, Vasco Pereira da. My Californian Friends: 

bilingual edition trans. Katharine F. Baker and Diniz Borges.

San Jose, CA.: Portuguese Heritage Publications of California, 20 Sep 2009.

 

 

Oliveira, Álamo. I No Longer Like Chocolates, novel trans. Diniz Borges and Katharine F. Baker. San Jose, CA.: Portuguese Heritage Publications of California, 2006.

 

I’ve also contributed chapters to these books:

 

 

Untamed Dreams - Faces of America. San Jose, CA. Portuguese Heritage Publications of California, 2016.

 

 

Oliveira, Álamo. “1,500 Visas Via a Volcano,” trans. Katharine F. Baker and Bobby J. Chamberlain, Ph.D. In Capelinhos: A Volcano of Synergies. San Jose, CA. Portuguese Heritage Publications of California, 2008.

And finally, this book is due out in a couple of months:

Correia, Natália. In America, I Discovered I Was European, trans. Katharine F. Baker and Emanuel Melo. North Dartmouth, MA.: Tagus Press (an arm of UMass Press).

 

 

FARMBOY HUSBAND

My husband and I met at Cal and married when he was a graduate student and I was an undergraduate a rooftop in Funchal, Madeira.

Guest Post: Pam Gunn

 

 

 

Hello, My name is Pam, I am 74 and have never “canned” anything.

My mom did the canning but not me. Whenever I wanted something "canned",

I would ask her and she would do it I loved her canning.

 

My mom passed 10 years ago.

 

My brother who is 69 and a widower

lost his job of 50 years last March due to Covid.

 

My Brother thought we should make our mom's canned corn relish

he asked me if I have my mom’s recipe. Yes, I said.

We canned 14 pints of corn relish.

Looking for the corn relish recipe lead me to my mom’s chili sauce recipe.

My husband and I canned 6 pints of chili sauce.

Using tomatoes from our little garden.

  

 

 

Then my brother said do you have mom’s tomato preserve recipe?  

No, I didn't. Could not find it anywhere.

BUT I did find a tomato jam recipe online.

We agree it was better than mom’s (lol) and we loved it.

We have each made it three times actually

three double batches because we had that many tomatoes.

The recipe is for a single batch that I doubled three times.

Turned out great but from what I have read

it is not recommended to double a recipe when canning.

Though it worked out for us and is OMG-delicious. 

 

 

 

 

 

Canned Spiced Tomato Jam

 

3 cups prepared tomatoes (about 2 1/4) lbs

1 1/2 teaspoons grated lemon rind

1/2 teaspoon ground allspice

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 cup fresh lemon juice

4 1/2 cups white cane sugar

1 3/4 ounces dry pectin (I used Sure-Jell) yellow box

 

Prepare tomatoes wash, scald, peel, chop. Place chopped tomatoes in saucepan and heat slowly to a simmer. Stir constantly to prevent sticking and burning. Cover and simmer 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Measure 3 cups of cooked tomatoes into a large saucepan. Add lemon rind, allspice, cinnamon, and cloves.

 

To make the Jam, Sterilize canning jars. Add lemon juice to the prepared tomatoes in a saucepan. Measure sugar and set aside. Stir powdered pectin into prepared tomatoes. Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring constantly. At once stir in sugar. Stir and bring to a full rolling boil that cannot be stirred down. Then boil hard for 1 minute, stirring constantly.

 

Remove from heat. Skim off foam. Pour hot jam into hot jars. Leave 1/4” headspace. Wipe rims of jars with a dampened clean paper towel. Add two-piece metal lids and rings. Jars should seal within 12 hours.

 

This makes 5 half-pints it is so good you will want to make more

yummy on fresh bread or toast.

 

 

 

 

 

I hope my mom in heaven is smiling down as she has watched my brother and I can some goodies

we had fun doing it and remember the good times we had as young folks

that was the best part,

now I have fun memories of canning with my brother and husband.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My mom’s recipe used cinnamon sticks and sliced lemon

my brother was disappointed that the new recipe did not use cinnamon sticks

as he liked licking the cinnamon stick when a new jar was opened

I told him to add a cinnamon stick to his jars would not hurt a thing

then he could lick to his heart's content so he did just that.

When his grandson Justin (Rooster) came over he gave him some jam to taste,

Rooster saw the cinnamon stick yup he wanted them too

he licked the jam off. Rooster is nine years old too funny.

 

 

 

 

 

My brother was just here to pick up some empty fruit jars.

My husband and I made Carmel apple jam with Haralson Apples.

It turned out as good as the Tomato Jam.

Apples, brown sugar, white sugar, cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg or and a little lemon juice.

My brother stopped over yesterday and tasted it

now he is in the apple jam business at his house,

could not find any jars so took the last of my jars.

I had so much fun since he retired he loves to cook. 

Now I think our next brother-sister project will be fruit cake for Christmas

using of course my mom’s recipe soaks in a quart of brandy for 6 weeks after it is baked,

very good, have a slice of fruit cake,

a couple of rum balls and you'll get tipsy before the wines with dinner.

Love having my brother home and not working warms my heart

to see such a simple thing passed down. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In 2004 I had a friend Jeannie who was taking a rug hooking class.

I had no idea what rug hooking was

I sewed clothes and made quilts mostly.

Well to make a long story short Jeannie talked me into taking the class

that was 3 hours a night one night a week for 4 weeks

at the end of the 4 weeks, I was sold hook, line, and sinker

on rug hooking and have been hooking ever since.

Jeannie, not so much she hated it.

She liked the end product

but hooking was not for her so I made her a few hooked things

and then a few years ago she lost her life to bladder cancer.

 

 

 

 

As I hooked over these past 17 years I have developed my own style.

I like doing what is called primitive rug hooking

and usually use strips of wool 8. - 8.5 and occasionally 9. the number reflects

the width of the wool strip a size 8 is equal to 1/4 inch.

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you see a rug hooked with lots of detail those folks are doing fine rug hooking

not for me I love finding antique rugs and trying to hook my rug to look old.

I am told I have a great sense of color and take that has a huge compliment.

I do know whatever I hook I have to like it.

I can’t hook things that are of no interest to me and if I don’t like the color

color planning is a huge part of the process and one I really enjoy.

I will never live long enough to hook all the wool in my studio.

I am definitely addicted.

 

 

 

 

When I said I had nothing to write about Corey encouraged me to write about my cooking, hook rugs, and my gardens and flowers.

 

I love flowers all flowers however I only can have shade-loving flowers in my yard

as we have too much shade due to the trees.

When we purchased our home 43 years ago we had nothing but grass no trees

and so we planted trees

my dad said they were to close to each other

I said oh no - lots of room

and there was when the trees were little

well, trees grow.

 

 

 

Now we have a wonderful shaded yard like living in the forest sort of

but so hard to grow grass so much shade.

We kept planting ground cover, hostas, and shade-loving annuals.

We put our time energy and money into our yard and home.

We have finally found what works well

for colorful annuals and stick with.

 

 

 

 

 I know my mom is up in heaven smiling at me and shaking her head

when I was young and at home, I wanted nothing to do with gardening

but once I got my own home it was the opposite.

 

 

We had 45 rose bushes the first years we were here but then the sun went away,

as those trees grew now no roses bushes but we have over 300 hostas

many varieties and lush shade.

 

 

 

 

 

Follow Pam on Facebook.

 

 

 

Sidenote: Pam has many more beautiful photos but for some unknown

reason I have not been able to post them today. So if I can I will add them later.

 

Guest Post: Wendy Cole Steel

When I first started following Corey, I was deeply entrenched in Silicon Valley working in Tech,

a newly remarried mom of a tween (God Bless my husband),

and running as fast as I could on the proverbial hamster wheel. 

As a full-blown Francophile, Corey’s photos and writing piqued my interest

and provided a nice diversion from my then overly stressed out life. 

 

 

Fast forward to now...

We are retired and live in Carmel Valley, Californi,

 we are empty-nesters with three rescues dogs @DogsofCarmelValley. 

(Lucky Dogs Gala Fundraiser)

 

 

 

We are up on a hill in Carmel Valley which has inspiring and ever-changing views. 

We, like many Californians (and other western states), have been affected by the fire. 

We evacuated in August with the #CarmelFire getting about a mile away from our home. 

 

One of those reminders to cherish every day.

 

 

 

Even before the pandemic hit,

I have been experiencing a bit of an existential wake-up call.

I had assumed being a retired, empty nester would be a natural,

even euphoric transition. 

Well, it wasn’t…

I realized that much (too much) of my identity was tied up with my work and motherhood. 

Without sounding too cliché, I had definitely lost my mojo. 

My husband and I dealt with retirement differently. 

He retired years before me and never looked back. 

I needed to redefine my sense of purpose –

I took on some local marketing gigs and actually really enjoyed it. 

I built a website and put out my “Shingle”: Wendy Steel Marketing. 

 

 

It was so gratifying to do work, not for the money or accolades

but just make a very direct impact. 

I got involved in non-profits and the local chamber of commerce. 

Being engaged in the local community afforded me with new meaning and precious friendships. 

My latest love project is doing social media for

Peace of Mind Dog Rescue .

All of my dogs are rescue dogs and it has been so gratifying to help

raise awareness and find homes for senior dogs, hey I’m a senior too, so I get it!

 

 

When the lockdown went into effect here, I took on gardening projects which were so cathartic. 

I spent weeks pulling out an invasive genista around our property. 

It was dirty, sweaty, exhausting – just what I needed.

Blood, sweat, and tears.

And, inspired by Corey, I took in the beauty around me –

I continued to spruce up my beautiful garden and even do some upcycling.

 

 

This was a project inspired by tree trunks,

an old mirror and some tile. 

I formed a planter for my succulent plants.

 

 

 

 

 

These are a series of “just photos” that make me smile – I hope they bring a smile to you as well.

 

Corey, I have really appreciated your “Daily Dose on Facebook” during these crazy times!

Connection, purpose, beauty, creativity, love is what is keeping me grounded. 

I wish all of you in Corey’s caring community all the best during these unprecedented times! 

 

I want to offer a sincere thank you to Corey for sharing her life journey with us. 

I’ve been following Corey for over 10 years;

My husband and I met her for dinner when we were in Paris many years ago. 

It felt like seeing an old friend

Corey was just as gracious and warm in person as I imagined. 

Thank you for the community you have created Corey 

I really do hope I can see you in France soon!

 

Follow Wendy on Facebook

Guest Post: Jean Munroe

 

The big 8-0 this year.

 

 My name is Jean Munroe.

Your other posters have led such glamorous lives that it is intimidating to add mine.  

Your invitation is so generous and compelling, though, that I want to participate.

 

 

Me indulging in my inner child 

 

 

Paul, my husband, and partner in crime

 

 

Jean's Son, Daughter-in-Law, and grandson.

 

 

 

I met glass artist Laura Pesce in a tiny town in Italy. 

She has become a friend

we have met up with her three times since then,

once in Pisa when she was flying in

and we were flying out. As a child, I wanted to be an artist, my path led elsewhere.

 

 

I photobombed a Race for the Cure in Greece. 

I am a 50-year survivor of breast cancer as of November 2020!

____

 

(When he was 16 I gave him a perm and made him a Hawaiian shirt overnight, my shy son became the Magnum superstar! Unfortunately, I cannot find one with the shirt.)

 

After a divorce from an abusive husband, I raised a son with no financial help,

went back to college by going to night school, and then went to law school. 

After ten years as a legal aid lawyer,

I went into private practice for another 24 years.

 

 

(In front of my law office about 20 years ago. I turned part of my law office into an art gallery and had shows for different artists, including glass jewelry and mirrors from Laura Pesce.)

 

As an attorney, I was more of a rabble-rouser. 

In my practice, I encountered hundreds of battered women. 

The law enforcement and legal resources were thin on the ground for these women. 

I found a little-used statute providing for an order of protection

and convinced one judge to apply it. 

We went from a handful of OP’s a year in our county to over a thousand

and that number continues to grow. 

We now have a justice center where a victim of domestic violence

has an array of services available, from legal to housing

to support groups and more.

 

When I went into private practice, it seemed to me

that people were not really getting their voices heard

and that lawyers were giving them cookie-cutter remedies. 

I read about mediation, took a course, and immediately started pushing it in my cases.

In 1995, our state passed mediation laws, and shortly thereafter,

we formed a statewide mediation organization. 

We trained attorneys, social workers

and others in helping the parties themselves decide how

their lives would be post-divorce.

 

"With our traveling buddy, Beth, rubbing the statue’s belly for good luck."

 

 

 

(On our honeymoon, Paul and I ate at the Botticelli in Lucca.  Being American, we arrived at 7 pm.  They invited us in anyway and while their family and staff ate their dinner, I played with their 18-month-old boy, Tomassi.  Several years later, we returned with friends.  I mentioned to the wife that two of our party had birthdays that day.  At the end of the meal, the chef came to the table with a birthday cake in the form of an American flag with two candles!  And showed us their newest baby girl.  A treasured memory.)

 

My art was sporadic throughout my life,

playing out mostly in my clothing and interior decorating. 

I have traveled extensively,

through 48 states and most of Europe. 

Fortunately, I have a wonderful travel partner

who enjoys art museums and food as much as I do.

I am 80 now and chair of an organization

that teaches English to refugees and immigrants. 

Our students have greatly enriched my life. 

They lift me up.

Their hope and optimism inspire me. 

Their resilience reassures me

that we can all survive

the times we are living through.

 

I look forward to the day when we can travel again. 

Meeting you is high on my bucket list. 

Thank you for your 15 years of positivity and joy.  

 

Follow Jean on Facebook

Guest Post: Leau Philips

There is a poet in Montana

that calls himself

 a "light chaser" -

I think it fits him and it fits me.

 

 

 

I love all kinds of light,

moonlight,

sunlight,

candlelight

just about any but that harsh overhead lighting in strange buildings.

It's not that I mind the dark, it has its place but oh...that light!

 

A few years ago I wrote a piece about light after witnessing

a rainbow in the sunset on the solstice

while the almost full moon was rising.

It impressed me and the image stayed with me

so I began thinking about the place light has in my life.

 

Here's part of what I wrote:

 

 

"It seems to me that each holiday celebrated around this time of year,

when the days are shortest, revolves around light.

Or maybe I read that somewhere, Stars, candles, menorahs in memory of a miraculous light,

Kwanzaa candles celebrating community...

and I think I know why.

So now you get to hear about my theory of the persistence of light, aren't you happy?

Light is there to show us the path we are on,

whether it is the right one or to show us where we have strayed,

no matter how we resist it.

Feel like I am in the dark?

Wrong path.

Can't seem to see what is right in front of me?

Wrong path.

Why is this so hard for me to learn?

Must be bad lighting.

And those people in my life that shine a spotlight

on what I am doing right or wrong?

Lighthouse keepers trying to keep me from crashing."

 

 

I still am enamored by light, it's why I live where we have sun 350 days a year,

why I live in a small house with floor to ceiling windows on the south side,

why I run out to see the moon,

why I gather people around me who are sunny and cheerful,

and why I use to put my boys in the car and chase the sunset.

 

 

 

 My son lives in Austin and so gets me funny things

like candles with Willie Nelson.

He calls Willie my patron saint.

I am a light chaser and a mother who taught him to love

light too. Often he calls or texts me to go look at the moon and sends pictures.

I am also the mother of a son who died at 16, he was blind and medically fragile

who was a bright and shining light to everyone who knew him.

He remains a light within our lives.

 

 

I remain a light chaser.

One of my favorite ways to enjoy the light is by taking pictures of it.

 

 

My health has changed dramatically over the last few years

so I spend a great deal of time looking out of my windows from my bed.

My small simple life is greatly enhanced by the light coming in the windows

and the light coming in from my circle of friends.

I've loved doing the series of photographs of light in my house.

 

 

Here are my wishes for you in the next year...

which will be full of light given our new leaders.

 

 

 

May you have the light you need

May the be able to see the light at the end of every tunnel

and know that there is hope

 

 

 

May the sun shine brightly on your endeavors

May each full moon illuminate all of your good fortunes

and how many things brought you joy that month

May you feel the warmth in your soul

that the light of your friends and family

brings you each time you encounter them.

 

Good light to all and to all a good light!

 

 

Follow Leau on Facebook

"...And We Lead Not by the Example of Our Power, But by the Power of Our Example.

President-elect Joe Biden's Victory speech 

 

"My fellow Americans,

the people of this nation have spoken.

They have delivered us a clear victory.

A convincing victory.

A victory for

“We the People.”

We have won with the most votes ever cast for a presidential ticket

in the history of this nation

— 74 million.

I am humbled by the trust and confidence

you have placed in me.

I pledge to be a President who seeks not to divide,

but to unify.

Who doesn’t see Red and Blue states,

but the United States.

And who will work with all my heart to win

the confidence of the whole people.

For that is what America is about:

The people.

And that is what our Administration will be about.

I sought this office to

restore the soul of America.

To rebuild the backbone of the nation

 the middle class.

To make America respected around the world again

and to unite us here at home.

It is the honor of my lifetime

that so many millions of Americans

have voted for this vision.

And now the work of making this vision

real is the task of our time.

As I said many times before,

I’m Jill’s husband.

I would not be here without the love and tireless support

of Jill, Hunter, Ashley, all of our grandchildren and their spouses, and all our family.

They are my heart.

Jill’s a mom — a military mom — and an educator.

She has dedicated her life to education,

but teaching isn’t just what she does — it’s who she is.

For America’s educators, this is a great day:

You’re going to have one of your own in the White House,

and Jill is going to make a great First Lady.

And I will be honored to be serving with a fantastic vice president

— Kamala Harris —

who will make history as the first woman,

first Black woman,

the first woman of South Asian descent,

and the first daughter of immigrants

ever elected to national office in this country.

It’s long overdue, and we’re reminded tonight of all those who fought

so hard for so many years to make this happen.

But once again, America has bent the arc of the moral universe

towards justice.

Kamala, Doug — like it or not — you’re family.

You’ve become honorary Bidens and there’s no way out.

To all those who volunteered, worked the polls in the middle of this pandemic,

local election officials — you deserve a special thanks from this nation.

To my campaign team, and all the volunteers,

to all those who gave so much of themselves

to make this moment possible, I owe you everything.

And to all those who supported us:

I am proud of the campaign we built and ran.

I am proud of the coalition we put together,

the broadest and most diverse in history.

Democrats, Republicans, and Independents.

Progressives, moderates, and conservatives.

Young and old.

Urban, suburban, and rural.

Gay, straight, transgender.

White. Latino. Asian. Native American.

And especially for those moments when this campaign was at its lowest —

the African American community stood up again for me.

They always have my back,

and I’ll have yours.

I said from the outset I wanted a campaign that represented America,

and I think we did that.

Now that’s what I want the administration to look like.

 

And to those who voted for President Trump,

I understand your disappointment tonight.

I’ve lost a couple of elections myself.

 

But now, let’s give each other a chance.

 

It’s time to put away the harsh rhetoric.

To lower the temperature.

To see each other again.

To listen to each other again.

To make progress,

we must stop treating our opponents as our enemy.

We are not enemies.

We are Americans.

The Bible tells us that to everything there is a season —

a time to build, a time to reap, a time to sow.

And a time to heal.

This is the time to heal in America.

Now that the campaign is over —

what is the people’s will? What is our mandate?

I believe it is this:

Americans have called on us to marshal the forces of decency

and the forces of fairness.

To marshal the forces of science and the forces of hope in the great battles of our time.

The battle to control the virus.

The battle to build prosperity.

The battle to secure your family’s health care.

The battle to achieve racial justice and root

out systemic racism in this country.

The battle to save the climate.

The battle to restore decency, defend democracy,

and give everybody in this country a fair shot.

Our work begins with getting COVID under control.

We cannot repair the economy, restore our vitality,

or relish life’s most precious moments —

hugging a grandchild, birthdays, weddings, graduations,

all the moments that matter most to us —

until we get this virus under control.

On Monday, I will name a group of leading scientists and experts

as Transition Advisors to help take the Biden-Harris COVID plan

and convert it into an action blueprint that starts on January 20th, 2021.

That plan will be built on a bedrock of science.

It will be constructed out of compassion, empathy, and concern.

I will spare no effort — or commitment — to turn this pandemic around.

I ran as a proud Democrat.

I will now be an American president.

I will work as hard for those who didn’t vote for me —

as those who did.

Let this grim era of demonization in America begin to end —

here and now.

The refusal of Democrats and Republicans

to cooperate with one another

is not due to some mysterious force beyond our control.

It’s a decision. It’s a choice we make.

And if we can decide not to cooperate,

then we can decide to cooperate.

And I believe that this is part of

the mandate from the American people.

They want us to cooperate.

That’s the choice I’ll make.

And I call on the Congress — Democrats and Republicans alike —

to make that choice with me.

The American story is about the slow,

yet steady widening of opportunity.

Make no mistake:

Too many dreams have been deferred for too long.

We must make the promise of the country real for everybody —

no matter their race, their ethnicity, their faith, their identity, or their disability.

America has always been shaped by inflection points —

by moments in time where we’ve made hard decisions

about who we are and what we want to be.

Lincoln in 1860 — coming to save the Union.

FDR in 1932 — promising a beleaguered country a New Deal.

JFK in 1960 — pledging a New Frontier.

And twelve years ago — when Barack Obama made history —

and told us, “Yes, we can.”

We stand again at an inflection point.

We have the opportunity to defeat despair and to build a nation of prosperity and purpose.

We can do it. I know we can.

I’ve long talked about the battle for the soul of America.

We must restore the soul of America.

Our nation is shaped by the constant battle

between our better angels and our darkest impulses.

 

It is time for our better angels to prevail.

Tonight, the whole world is watching America.

I believe at our best America is a beacon for the globe.

 

And we lead not by the example of our power,

but by the power of our example.

 

I’ve always believed we can define America in one word:

Possibilities.

That in America everyone should be given the opportunity to go as far as their dreams

and God-given ability will take them.

You see, I believe in the possibility of this country.

We’re always looking ahead.

Ahead to an America that’s freer and more just.

Ahead to an America that creates jobs with dignity and respect.

Ahead to an America that cures disease —

like cancer and Alzheimers.

Ahead to an America that never leaves anyone behind.

Ahead to an America that never gives up, never gives in.

This is a great nation.

And we are good people.

This is the United States of America.

And there has never been anything we haven’t been able to do

when we’ve done it together.

In the last days of the campaign,

I’ve been thinking about a hymn that means a lot to me and to my family,

particularly my deceased son Beau.

It captures the faith that sustains me and which I believe sustains America.

And I hope it can provide some comfort and solace

to the more than 230,000 families who have lost a loved one

to this terrible virus this year.

My heart goes out to each and every one of you.

Hopefully, this hymn gives you solace as well.

“And He will raise you up on eagle's wings,

Bear you on the breath of dawn,

Make you shine like the sun,

And hold you in the palm of His Hand.”

 

And now, together — on eagle’s wings —

we embark on the work that God

and history has called upon us to do.

With full hearts and steady hands, with faith in America

and in each other, with a love of country

— and a thirst for justice —

let us be the nation that we know we can be.

A nation united.

A nation strengthened.

A nation healed.

The United States of America.

God bless you.

And may God protect our troops."

 

Guest Post: Anna Schlemma

 

A day without Corey is like a day without sunshine. 

I always begin my day with Sunshine. 

I’ve been reading Corey’s “reflections” for many years,

and am always deeply appreciative of her open-heartedness,

talents, insights, and wisdom, and the beautiful way she IS in this world. 

I’m delighted and humbled to have been invited to share a bit of myself here. 

I will now attempt to distill and encapsulate a life for almost two weeks short of 72 years. 

 

 

 

 

I was born in Bavaria, Germany, raised in Chicago, and have lived all of my adult life

in South Bend/Granger, Indiana. My sweet husband and I have been married for 51 years,

have two adorable sons — Michael and Eric, darling grandsons Evan and Andy,

and loving daughters-in-law Amy and Valerie.

 

 

 

click to enlarge

 

click to enlarge

 

 

I’ve been privileged to wear several more hats over the years —

Montessori Directress,

Sex Offense Services and hospital volunteer,

and, for the past 40 years — calligrapher. 

Most of my “bread and butter” work was for the University of Notre Dame,

wedding invitations, and certificates, and resolutions for various organizations.

 

 

click to enlarge

 

 

click to enlarge

 

 

As I’ve read Corey’s guests’ posts, I recognize a common thread among kindred spirits —-

love of family, home, travel, and collecting antiques. 

 

 

I am now a Recovering Collector of Things Old,

 

Loved and Beautiful,

 

and limit my collecting to Social Security,

 

fine arts supplies,

 

and

 

 words. 

 

Particularly those of poets,

 

writer-wordsmiths,

 

and mystics.

 

 

 

 

click to enlarge

 

 

click to enlarge

 

 

 

 

I’m in love with and intrigued by

 

those who have

 

that mysterious gift of cobbling

 

and jumbling

 

and arranging ordinary words,

 

resulting in stunning beauty,

 

meaning, and artistry—

 

words that reach deep

 

and touch the heart and soul. 

 

I’m including Corey here.

 

 

 

 

click to enlarge

 

 

As a calligrapher, my joy is in making others’ beautiful and meaningful words

come alive on the page. 

 

 

In that way, I process my own life through the thoughts and words

of those who speak my heart in ways that I’m unable to articulate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mom always said that I begged to write

when I was a 3-year-old while watching my cousins do their homework.

I guess the urge has been in my bones for a long time.  

In grade school, nuns and teachers encouraged me by allowing me

to do posters for class projects, and that further fueled my love of lettering.  

I was also always fascinated by the handwriting of others —

how different it was from one person to the other,

even though the nuns taught the same method to everyone.  

 

 

 

 

Fast forward many decades, I bought a calligraphy book,

and practiced earnestly while teaching Montessori I thought I knew what I was doing.  

Oh, how funny!

By chance, I saw an ad in our newspaper that Indiana University/South Bend

was offering an evening calligraphy class——

and that changed the rest of my life, really.

I became an avid student,

taking a year-long master class, 3-4 workshops

and art retreats overs the years from well-known

and respected calligraphy instructors

and in between, left Montessori to begin

my “bread and butter” work.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The best advice I can give anyone who wants to learn how to calligraphy is to

take a class from a great teacher,

one who is tough and expects the best out of you

but is also encouraging—-

and then practice, practice, practice.  

Also, take every possible class/workshop available.  

Then—— after the formal structures of different lettering styles are in one's bones —-

go wild and experiment, and most of all

Play, play, play with your whole heart.  

 

 

To see more of Anna's amazing calligraphy click here

 

 

Like a child —-

allow yourself to be fully absorbed by what’s in front of you.  

That’s what I do now ——-

play, play, play

with words, lettering, and color. 

 

 

 

 

 

This time of “Covid Cloistering” when intimate and meaningful

connections with family and friends have been restricted,

and our annual drive to the West Coast

to savor the splendor and  grandeur of this vast country,

visiting National Parks and all the gorgeousness in between—postponed

hopefully only postponed, my art sustains me and enlivens my Spirit. 

 

 

 

 

The dailiness of my life includes walks on the beautiful campus of the University of Notre Dame,

soaking in the peace of Lake Michigan,

Zoom calligraphy and art workshops, and calligraphy guild meetings. 

Remaining connected with Beloveds near and far is always a top priority.

 

 

 

All things considered, and contrary to the state of our world right now,

there is still so much for which I am endlessly grateful. 

I wish Peace and Every Blessing to Corey, family, and to all her readers.

 

Anna

 

 

 

To see more of Anna's work click here and scroll

 

 

For more information about classes, Zoom or otherwise and or

calligraphy commissions

please contact Anna by email:

 

joyfool@earthlink.net

 

 

 

Guest Post: Linda Marcov

2009

 

When Corey asked us to be guest writers for her blog,

I knew I wanted to give it my best and make it something worth reading.

I have followed her for years it seems, maybe 20 it's hard to remember

when I first saw her beautiful photos and words in Romantic Homes magazine.

When she wandered into my booth at Marburger Farms Antique Show in Round Top Texas

over 10 years ago, camera in hand, and made a comment about how lovely our things were

I looked up to find I recognized her name on her name tag she had a press pass

and was taking a look at all the booths set up. I was STAR stuck instantly.

I was meeting someone who I greatly admired and she LIKED what I was doing in our booth

WOW.

 

We connected instantly and over the next 10 years developed a cherished friendship.

With that said what oh what do I have to offer for her blog?

 

 

 

 

I have sat on this for a few days, over and over the word, "authenticity" has come to mind.

It’s something I look for in all things, antiques, fabrics, places, but it’s most important

to me when it involves the people I’m friends with, the connections that I nurture.

 

Somewhere in the ’70s, I became aware that I and most women I knew

tried to fit into categories, so many of us didn’t seem to fit anywhere.

I for one was very lost… I was divorced, with two children to raise could I be a party girl too?

Not so much-

could I be a good mother and take my children to church?

No turned out I had a conflict with that concept as well.

Could I play the swinging cool independent single chick part?

No that was not me.

 

Linda with her grandsons.

Linda with her granddaughter and daughter

 

Linda and her husband Ludimil

 

I wanted a home, a family, a husband... so who was I?  Who was at my core?

What did I want to show the world, what did I want to hide?

Turns out it took me the whole 70’s and 80’s decade to really form that person

and develop her into an authentic, open, honest person. Lots of therapy, books,

seminars… workshops… I once in this period described myself as a “self-help junkie”!

 

I don’t think I’m very different from a lot of women in my generation,

actually, in any generation, women it seems to me have struggled with identity for eons.

What I do know is that it is a struggle to offer yourself to friends and family

as an authentic person.

You will meet disapproval, judgment, and conflict.

 

But for me, it was more of a struggle to “act right” for the others around me.

 

I had to choose, I choose ME.

 

The term “act right” came from my mother I hardly know a woman, including my daughter

who doesn’t have a mother issue (a whole volume of writing). I probably began my journey

of authenticity with my mother it did not end well, we shall leave it there.

 

What was accomplished was my awareness of who I actually was, what I liked, what I stood for,

what I could not or would not tolerate, what I had a passion for, what kinds of people,

places, and things brought me joy, what I needed to let go of. What I need to work on,

where I needed to face myself in the mirror and do my own judging, and bring about the changes when I

recognized the parts in me that needed changing. I learned that in spite of being more direct,

more honest with others, more open, that I had richer, more intimate, and yes authentic friendships

that now have been a part of my life for decades. I don’t want to give the impression that this

has been all a straight-line journey of perpetual growth and improvement it has not.

I have ducked when it got too hard I’ve been criticized, misunderstood,

I’ve stumbled and tripped myself up plenty.

I still do to some extent but I have not regretted making those first steps no matter how awkward, and

hesitant they were

to become more of who I am,

what I think,

what I believe,

and what I stand for.

 

 

 

In my friendships with women, I try to encourage that same path.

I honestly feel our lives will be enhanced, enriched, deeply, profoundly if we will allow

our true nature, thoughts, feelings, ideas, dreams, desires to be visible,

without shame or shyness

without worry about what people will think.

 

 

 

 

Follow Linda on Facebook

Follow Linda on Instagram

 

 

 

 

Check out Linda's book on Amazon:

Wardrobe Workshop: Take control of your closet and create a versatile wardrobe uniquely tailored to YOU

 

Bits of News

 

The energy circling around the world is palpable as the wait continues

to unveil the next president of the USA.

I could speak about this subject for hours, 

but I promised not to be political on my blog,

which is a personal commitment I often want to break.

But not today. Instead, I will continue to do post Guest Posts

in celebration of my blog being fifteen

years old this month.

Please, share your story,

or a poem, or a favorite recipe, something about who you are...

your story is what I want to hear I know some

of you are shy, or feel you are at a low point or have burdens that

prevent you to want to share.

I understand that after fifteen years of blogging

there have been moments in my life where I have felt uncertain

or have had that intensity or low points that

 I have wanted not to share and often I did not share them.

Though whatever I shared I felt your tangible support and more often than not

the common thread that holds humanity together we are more alike 

then we think we are. 

I hope you will share your story or a part of it on my blog.

 

 

For the many of you who have asked about my brother

and who have prayed for him THANK YOU.

My brother has terminal cancer in his pancreas and liver.

Those are hard words to type let alone be told.

He lives with this gnawing knowledge, plus a

toxic life-supporting chemotherapy every day since January.

This morning he called to tell me,

"Please tell your readers THANK YOU for their prayers.

I feel their strength, their healing, I feel them and 

am thankful that they are praying for me."

Don't stop.

Your prayers, good intentions, love,

friendship, thoughts, messages...

are ripples 

from one heart to another

they are needed

my brother leans

into that grace.

 

 

Gabriel (sixteen months) Chelsea and Martin are living with us as you know during

the French lockdown. Their being with us is a gift. (and extra cooking smile!)

The innocence of children is a healing source,

a glimpse into how we absorb and become

what we gather along the way.

The other day I asked Gabriel if he wanted to take a nap?

He said NO.

I asked him if he wanted candy (he doesn't know that word)?

He said NO.

I asked him if he wanted to go to sleep?

He said NO.

I asked him if he wanted to jitterbug?

He said NO.

I asked him if he loved Va (that's me) and he giggled,

and said NO.

WHAT?!? I cried,

Then I chased him and gave him the biggest squeeze.

He loves this new game.

 

 

My other news is that I have had a cold that

has haunted me for nearly two weeks.

A fever for two days, running nose, hacking cough, fatigue, massive

cold sore, scratched my eye with my mask that

then became infected (I look like a monster maybe

that is why Gabriel says NO?) Gabriel had a cold too

minus the cold sore and scratched eye. I had a covid test after a few days of not feeling well

it wasn't as bad as I was expecting, I do not

have covid. I am going to take the test to see if I have the

antibodies because maybe I had it in the beginning.

Nobody in my family caught my cold so that is a relief.

I am on the mend.

 

 

Maybe today we will know who the 46th President of the USA will be.

Whoever wins the challenge to reunite our country will be

monumental and difficult. 

Please send me your story.

I will restart to post them in a few days.

Stay safe. 

 

Waiting

Today More Than Ever

 

 

V

 

O

 

T

 

E

----------

----------

Whatever the outcome

we are in this together

for better or worse

richer or poorer

sickness and in health

to death do us part.

Let us with our intentions,

our gratitude, and forgiveness

help one another to set the path towards

beautiful world.

Let us be the one who leads the way with

intent and light.

Godspeed!

 

 

Guest Post: Sue Johnpeter

 

When the blogging universe was exploding into many points of light, I found my way to Corey’s blog. Her touching words and observations kept me coming back. Her story of Chelsea climbing into Sacha’s crib to give him a bottle when Corey was recovering from cancer surgery touched me deeply. An incredible family, a mother with such heart and love.

 

 

(Our front porch)

 

Like many Americans, I am drawn to things French. Unlike many Americans, the reason is that our Dad was a bombardier instructor in Big Spring, Texas, during World War II. His job eventually became teaching the Free French who had escaped from Europe, ready to be trained and sent back to liberate their beloved country. These were the bedtime stories we grew up on.

 

 

(My Dad and brothers 1950 in the City of Light)

 

In time, my parents, along with my brothers, ages 3 and 1, spent 1950-1951 in Montpellier while Dad earned a Diplôme Universitaire, a French degree. He would teach high school French for 30 years. My mother, a journalist, and writer wrote and published many stories based on this formative post-war life. While I would not be born until much later, I cherish each word.

 

(With my family in St. Martin, France)

 

 

(Egg Harbor)

 

I guess you’d say we’ve been crazy Francophiles from the start (as if we had a choice). My husband, Charlie, and I have spent many happy days in Quimper (we collect French faïence); Montpellier (A gendarme told me never to drive there again); Castelleras (outside Nice); Paris for New Year; and St. Martin, or France d’outre-mer.

 

 

The Quimper faience renderings of the Breton people really resonated with me. One plate led to another and 20 years later, there was a collection. In more than one room. Snuff bottles, inkwells, platters, cups. As with my children, there is no one favorite.

 

 

 

In a seemingly fullish-circle, I wrote a book in 2014 based on the harrowing experiences of my friend, Glenn King, a World War II bombardier, who was shot down on his 23rd mission and held in a German prisoner of war camp until May 1945. Our book is called

“No Ordinary Life – Memoir of a World War II Bombardier.”

Spending time with Glenn and writing his story has been the honor of my life. 

 

(A view of Nice)

 

My husband and I planned a trip to southern France this year on the occasion of our 40th wedding anniversary. Alas, that trip will have to wait until the world is healed. France will be there, of that I have no doubt.

 

You can follow Sue on Instagram suejp 

“No Ordinary Life” is available on Amazon.

 

Chelsea’s photo of her husband and Gabriel looking towards the horizon is symbolical during this second lockdown in France. We need to remain hopeful and encouraged that the days ahead will bring goodness. We will be altogether as Chelsea and Martin will join us as they will now be working from home.
Stay safe while focusing on the horizon.

 

 

 

Guest Post: Teresa Young

 

 

Hello Friends, my name is Teresa Young. My husband, Dave & I live in a small town in southern Oklahoma. We met later in life, and have enjoyed being able to share our mutual love for art & creativity in life together. 

Seems like I always have a million projects going on in my head as well as my life. I think that is how I roll. I always have... Our children are grown and living their adult lives. We have 2 beautiful granddaughters that are truly a joy.

 

Favorite photo of us with Corey & Yann with the photo bomber in the background.

I spent 20 years as a graphic designer before I went to work as a Realtor over 20 something years ago. This portion of my life, I hope to spend doing the things I love most.

We own Fox Hollow Studio in Duncan, Oklahoma. Our studio, is a building we purchased 2 years ago, and turned it into an art studio for friends to gather for classes, a place for guest artist, and upstairs it offers an apartment for overnight guest. My husband did the complete renovation himself, I give him a picture and he builds it. This isn’t the first time we have done this. We have flipped several homes

together, have rentals and now an Airbnb.

(Love how my Dollar Tree butterflies turned out arranged in flight under glass.)

 

I had always loved decorating my home and loved looking for special pieces that give a special touch of yourself in your home. We both love taking vacations, planning the route to drive through small towns to stop in antique stores or a flea market along our way. We are avid fans of Round Top Flea Market in Texas. It one of the largest & most amazing flea market in the United States.

 

 

Our journeys have brought us many acquaintances along the way. Two very special friends are Yann & Corey. I had met Corey at Spellbound, an art gathering in California were Corey was a guest speaker. The following year she invited me to France. I had never been to Europe. I was elated and luckily Dave was on board to go along on this adventure.

 

 

 

We visited them in the two following years. They infected us with the love for the South of France and brocantes. It was a trip of a lifetime, with experts giving us the direction of the places to see. Corey & Yann are two of the most gracious and personable people you will ever meet. We still reminisce of the memories we have of them. They opened our minds and hearts to traveling Europe and the next year we traveled to Italy.

And like most people with travel plans this year...

 

 

we were booked to return to see the other half of Italy last May & that was cancelled.

So for now, I do a lot of junk journaling that allows me to use the ephemera from my past journeys, along with other arts and crafts which gives me my creative outlet. I love collecting vintage trim and religious artifacts.

You can always follow foxhollowstudio on Instagram and

my blog, www.foxhollowstudio.com.

 

Thank You Corey for asking me to post on your blog. After all these years, it is still wonderful following your blog and keeping up with your life.

 

 

Re-discovering my natural creativity allowed me to look inward, enabling me to filter my world from my emotions and perceptions. This is who I am now. My art consists of mixed media and making jewelry from vintage finds. I love decorating my home, gardening, photography, journaling, traveling, and working in my art studio. Most importantly is making time for my family and friends, that make my life good.

Follow Teresa on Facebook

Guest Post: Becky Hubble Peterson

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!

 

Follow Becky on Facebook

 

Guest Post: Ann of Avondale

I met Corey through Victoria Magazine.  I was interested in the monthly feature “Business of Bliss” and how women do what they love as a business. Long ago there was a chat forum on iVillage for Business of Bliss and I was a Moderator to keep the conversation flowing and interesting. During that time, I came across an article on Corey and her life in France. I read all her posts and have continued to follow her blog.

Hopefully, one day we will meet in person.

My real career is in Finance. I have a degree in Accounting and an MBA. I worked for global corporations in Aerospace, Financial Institutions, and Technology. I was the financial support for large product lines and part of a team responsible for their success.  The larger the company, the higher the pay, the greater the stress. 

 

My favorite vintage art piece in the upstairs hallway.

 

 

 

 

Early in my career, I recognized the stress and the need for a hobby. I loved shopping for antiques and when the house was full, I had nowhere to turn but to open an antique booth in a local antique mall. Desk in Master Bedroom, 100 year- old cabinet in Dining Room, and my favorite vintage art piece in the upstairs hallway.

 

 

 

During my stressful days at work, I spent my lunch hours dreaming about my “Business of Bliss.”  I created a mission statement, took pictures of my booth and worked on my displays, and shopped for antiques on my lunch hour. Weekends I spent filling my booth. When we travel, I include a visit to the local antique stores. These are some of my recent sales. I also carry a lot of vintage kitchenware. 

 

           

 

While searching for antiques, I discovered other creative outlets such as designing greeting cards.   I love vintage cards and began making my own cards to sell. 

 

 

 

                    

Also, I came across some of the sweetest vintage aprons. I started buying vintage aprons and that is how my next passion emerged.  I learned to design and sew aprons to sell. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

               

They say, sell what you love, since I love fashion, I sell vintage designer dresses and what goes with dresses but jewelry.  I took a class and design and make necklaces to sell. These are some of the first designs.

 

 

 

Thanks to my lovely husband who supports me in all of my interests. We have been married for 25 years. We met at church while volunteering and I often say this was a match made in heaven. One of our favorite pastimes is “Dinner and a Movie.”  We have a huge movie library as he introduced me to some of the greatest movies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also love to plan our Spring garden and fill the backyard with lovely flowers like Iris, Hibiscus, Tulips, Lilies, and so much.  I make lemon marmalade from our Meyer lemon tree.

 

 

                  

Another favorite pastime is our love for Christmas. We put up 3 trees in our house. I have a vast collection of vintage ornaments. Tree 1 in the living room, tree 2 in Master BR, tree 3 in the TV room.

Thank you, Corey, for allowing me to share my life with your lovely community.

Ann of Avondale

Ann will soon have an Etsy page look her up here AnnsVintageInn on Etsy.

 

Guest Post: Jeanne

 

Jeanne and her sister.

 

 

 

I grew up in the fabulous fifties era, the happy days' era, the sweet simple times when life seemed less complicated.  My Mother and Grandmother raised us with much love with the help of many relatives.  They both began their eternal lives and I miss them more than words can say.  They are both treasured and adored in Heaven as they were on Earth.

My Sister and I are so close and reflect often on our beautiful childhood memories and treasure each memory we make today.  I am so blessed to have her as my Sister and so thankful she lives in the same city.

 

 

 

I live in LaSalle Ontario, just outside of Windsor Ontario.  A city I love so much.  Our city has fine citizens and we are blessed to have a country to live in such as Canada.  We were also blessed to have all the amenities of Detroit Michigan right across the Detroit River from us.  Motown Memories to last forever and Detroit was at one time a mecca for the finest shopping and stores on Woodward Avenue including Hudson Maine department store.  It was a store like no other, especially at Christmas.  Window displays that to this day I dream of.  Each week many of us would go shopping in Detroit and come back with treasures galore.

 

 

 

 

When I was 21 I married my sweetheart Robbie who grew up a few streets away from me.  He was a handsome blonde with the biggest blue eyes ever.  5 years later we were blessed with our son Justin whom we both adored.  We had many wonderful years together but sadly he began his eternal life in 1992. We miss Robbie every day and will treasure him always.

 

 

 

After the storm, a rainbow always appears.  God blessed me with another beautiful man who became my husband in 1994.  This time a handsome man with black hair and brown eyes.  He is an excellent father and husband.  We are a blended family of 4 children and now 6 grandchildren.  All remarkable to us.

 

 

 

 

My son and his family currently live in Vietnam and our daughter and her family in Australia. Technology is a great asset.  They visit us every 2 years.  Sadly it was missed this past summer due to covid.  Hopefully, in the summer of 2021, we will be reunited in person.

 

I worked for the government for the most part, but my source of pride is home life.  

 

Some things I treasure are good books, great movies, beautiful handwritten letters, Korean stationery, great photographs, Asian silks, Asian calligraphy, lipstick, perfume, jade jewelry, great food, lattes, and caesars. 

I love flowers, hummingbirds, nature, and sunshine.

 

                " Without the soaring birds, the great forests,

the sounds and coloration of the insects, the free-flowing streams,

the flowering fields, the sight of the clouds by day and

the stars at night, we become impoverished in all that makes us human.”

— Thomas Berry

 

 

 

 

 

 Kindness is the special art of living with a loving heart. I try and bring kindness into each day in every way I can as I know how very much it means to us all. During these dark covid times many are isolated. Just reaching out with phone calls, cards, letters, emails, smiles a kind word can make a world of difference. May God bless us and protect us all 

 

This is a small glimpse into my world.

It has been a pleasure to share with you.

Thank you again Corey for this invitation.

Jeanne

 

Follow Jeanne on Facebook

 

 

"I shall pass through this world but once.  Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness that I can show to any human being, let me do it now.  Let me not defer it, or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again."

Stephen Grellet

 

-------------------------------------------

 

Sidenote

 

Jeanne is one of the first people to ever read my blog and leave a comment way back in 2005. I have felt her kindness and encouraging faith throughout these many years. Jeanne often was the first person to leave a comment on my blog and I wondered how she did that?

Thank you Jeanne for being with me since day 1.

 

 

 

Guest Post: Judy Wilcox aka HeyJude

I am Judy Wilcox

I am a procrastinator.

 

 

When this pandemic hit, I decided as long as I was going to be isolating at home, I might as well dig into the numerous projects I’d been putting off for years.  I made a list—clean closets, drawers, cabinets, and the storage area which hasn’t been tackled for, well, let’s just say a very long time.  I cleaned the hall closet and a few drawers and lost interest.

 

 

I have other confessions to make as well.  I make Santas using old quilts, vintage fabric, laces, and fur.  I have 2 racks of old fur coats which were given to me or I bought at garage sales.  My production has slowed considerably in the last few years so my inventory doesn’t diminish.  When the furnace man comes I have to explain why I have so many fur coats lest he thinks I am the Imelda Marcos of fur.

 

Something else I might as well tell you is that I am a “hooker”. 

 

 

I hook rugs from strips of wool.  It is a primitive craft and there are many women in my city and state who “hook”.  There are “hook-ins” drawing people from our area and other states.  Last fall my horse rug won first place.  It is adapted, with permission, from a painting by Jenny Foster.

 

My son when he was young and Bertha the Writer 

 

I am such a procrastinator that our cranky, old Basset Hound, Bertha, took over writing our Christmas letter the same year that the H.W. Bush’s dog published a memoir.  When no one in the family stepped up to pen the letter, she took it on.  It came at a price as she points out our shortcomings throughout the year. I don’t care I am just relieved that the letter is not my problem.

 

Montana

 

our home

 

I am involved in several groups which, until COVID, took me out of the house almost every day.  It means I get to spend time with friends and, if I’m truthful, I don’t have to spend the day doing housework.  I’m involved in 2 book clubs, 2 rug hooking groups, a quilting group (I don’t even quilt!), a random acts of kindness group, a church fellowship group, a birthday club, and a writing group who have been writing our life’s stories monthly for 12 years.  I also knit hats for cancer patients.

I have given up most volunteer boards but still, serve on a board at the University of Nebraska Medical Center which is a leader in infectious disease.  35 years ago when I had 2 kinds of cancer, I decided that my priorities were family and friends.  If I have housework to do and a friend calls to go to lunch, I choose the friend.  That probably explains why the storage room is still in its deplorable state and why the paper is taking over my office.

My Grandson.

 

My Family

 

My husband, Ross, and I met at Nebraska Wesleyan University and have been married for 56 years. We both grew up on farms near small towns and we both attended one-room schools for 8 years. We have lived in Lincoln, Nebraska since college.  I taught high school English and Spanish until our son was born and Ross was a banker.  We love to travel and spend time at our cabin in Montana.  Our son, Andy, and his wife, Christie, are both attorneys though both are working in other fields.  Andy is a commercial real estate and small business investor.  Christie is head of human resources in a bank of over 900 employees.  They have one adorable son who is 6.  Some of our friends have great-grandchildren, but we procrastinated in that area too. Our son was born when
I was 35 and he, following our example, became a father at 37.

 

I have read Corey’s blog for years and, being a Francophile, live vicariously through her adventures.  It’s the first thing I read every morning.  I was happy to meet Corey 2 years ago when we spent a month in Provence. 

Here’s to another 16 years of blogging, Corey.

Guest Post: Susan May

My name is Susan May,

I am delighted to tell a bit of my story, here on Corey's blog. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I was born and raised in Anchorage, Alaska. 

 

Growing up far from the continental United States, travel has been part of my life since a toddler. 

 

 

 

 

 

Which made moving to Switzerland, 14 years ago, for my husband's job, an adventure more than a challenge.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 years into our life in Zurich, we had an opportunity to live in Munich for 3 years.  We embraced this change, and enjoyed Bavaria very much.

 

 

 

 

 

Then it was back to Switzerland, where we will remain ... hmmm, until we begin to feel old!  Who knows when that will be?

 

I'm grateful for my life, and the opportunities we have had, while living in Central Europe.

 

 

 

 

Travel memories Chelland-Saint-Victor, Aosta Valley region of northwestern Italy. 

 

 

 

 

 

Hiking, of course is one of our greatest pleasures, we are fortunate to live in such incredible landscape.

Afternoon walks - in the paths a few kilometres from our place - that weave in and out of the forest. Love the fresh autumn air. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday, we took the gentle, 25 minutes cable car to First,

above Grindelwald, in the Bernese Overland.

Elevation: 2,166 meters above sea level (7,106 ft.) at the station.

Fresh snow made it all the more beautiful.

We walked the trail up to Bachalpsee, a beautiful lake at 2,265 meters.

I look forward to returning in summer 2021.

 

(If you look closely, you can see the narrow cliff-walk that leads to a viewing platform that extends 45 meters out over the cliff face; I decided to skip it!)

 

 

 

 

 

Photo of my husband on our walk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On another day we took a quiet train to Konstanz, just across the border, in Germany. While walking back to train station, I spotted a "Stolpersteine" in the cobblestone street. A quote from Michael Friedrichs-Friedländer, 69, the craftsman who makes each Stolperstein,

 

“I can’t think of a better form of remembrance;

if you want to read the stone,

you must bow before the victim.”

 

We see these type of memorial stones throughout our part of Europe

 

 

 

 

My husband and both love the outdoors and photography. The above photographs belong to my husband. You can see and read more about him

https://djessemay.com/about.html

 

 

 

                        Our Daughters - double trouble (I miss trouble)

 

Our daughters, Amberly and Allison, are both married and living in Illinois.  Amberly lives in a suburb of Chicago and works at a library. 

Allison lives near Lincoln Square in Chicago, and teaches English as a 2nd language. 

 

I've been missing air travel and my family in the United States, these past 8 months, tremendously - but of course I'm not the only one. 

 

Following along with Corey's experiences, while in California, earlier this year, I found much of her emotions, her thoughts of being in one home-place, while missing another home, resonating strongly with me.

 

I'm glad that I found her blog, Tongue in Cheek, when I had been in Zurich for just a few years.  Like the others who have shared recently, seeing life through Corey's eyes and learning about her home, their growing family, her love of the Brocante, her ties to the home-place in Willows - all have been an enriching experience.

 

I will close by telling you of a chance meeting at the San Francisco Airport, in November 2017.  After flying direct to SFO, I was feeling a bit fuzzy in the head, and rumpled in appearance as I made my way, following other passengers to Customs, to enter the country.  I looked to my left and gasped, because there was Corey and her husband, Yann.  I said "excuse me, I'm going to be that person who says 'I read your blog! You're Corey!' " Or something like that, honestly between jet lag and astonishment, it's amazing I was speaking in sentences.  They were both just as you would imagine - kind, friendly, and open to chatting for a few moments.  I was on my way to Alaska for Thanksgiving, and they were going to Willows for the holiday too - as a surprise for her family.This chance encounter made my day!

 

Corey, thanks for sharing your life with us.  Thanks for blogging. 

You are a blessing.

 

Follow Susan on Facebook and on Instagram

 

Zurich, Switzerland

Guest Post: Kathy Benusa

Write a guest post for Corey’s blog? 

My inner critic was quick to respond,

“No way, it told me, that’s too scary. It’s out of your comfort zone.”

Totally true, I thought.

 

 

Then, I casually mentioned the idea to my other half, Randy, the best person I know and my high school sweetheart. He thought it was a fabulous idea.  I kicked the idea around for a few more days starting to warm to it.  When I shared it with my life coach friend, Sherri, she was “beyond, beyond” that this amazing opportunity had presented itself to me. 

Next, the quote by Shannon L. Alder came across my path.

“Life always begins with one step outside of your comfort zone.”

At this point, the Universe was dropping hints and encouragement right and left. 

So, friends, here I am.

 

 

My name is Katherine (Kathy) Benusa.  I live in Everett, Washington, in the US, in a town of nearly 114,000 people. I was born and raised here.  My parents and brother live nearby.

We have chosen to live in the historic part of town because of our love for all that has history and a story. It is a lovely neighborhood of tree-lined streets and beautiful gardens. Perfect for walking. It borders on an inlet of Puget Sound.  Our home was built in 1916. Even though we have remodeled, it still retains its beauty and character.  It is my sanctuary of peace and calm.  It’s filled with treasures we have collected, along with pieces that make me happy and speak to my heart.  It is a one-of-kind.

 

 

 

Our gardens I designed and further add to the tranquility and calm. 

 

This is my home.

 

After teaching for 38 years, it finally felt right to move into retirement.  It was a difficult decision to make.  I was great at my job, loved being a part of something bigger than myself - a respected teacher, colleague, and good friend to those around me.  At the time, I thought it might be difficult transitioning into retirement. Being an educator was such an important part of my life for so many years. I shouldn’t have spent a minute on that worry. I haven’t regretted my decision for one moment. The rewards have continued to follow me even though I’ve left the classroom.  It was an amazing career, one that I hold near and dear to my heart.  I would choose it again if I had it to do over.

 

 

 

We have had the good fortune to build a vacation home in eastern Washington in the town of Chelan.  Much smaller than Everett, with a population of around 3,500, it has that small-town feel.  It sits at the end of a 55-mile lake that is fed from the Stehekin River at the base of the Cascade Mountains. Once primarily an apple and cherry growing region, it Is now dotted with wineries where some of those orchards once stood.

The climate is opposite of home, hot in summer, cold in winter vs. the mild year-round temperatures of western Washington. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is a blessed getaway that sits atop a hill, a bit out of town, with a spectacular view. We designed the inside of our home with memorable snippets from our travels.  A lovely floor to ceiling mural painted by the artist, Andy Eccleshall, ushers one up the stairs.  It is a collection of places we have visited and love, creatively meshed into one scene.  Our bedroom has a mural of Blenheim Palace in England. Andy painted it from a picture we took whilst on vacation.  Our entry floor is a point on point black and white marble tile as a nod to a 400- year-old bed and breakfast we stayed in years ago in the town of Winchcombe Oxfordshire, England. Our gardens in Chelan also offer peace and tranquility and compliment the breath-taking, ever-changing view of the lake, hills, and farmland. I have loved planning every detail of a trip, finding special, out of the ordinary things to do and unique places to stay.

 

 

 

In the fall of 2019, we planned a trip to London and the southern part of England in Cornwall to visit Poldark Country.

 

 

 

 

In addition, after being a long-time reader (and fan) of Corey and her blog, I decided it was time for Randy and me to take a trip to France to have a stay in the “house next door” in Provence and end our trip at Corey and Yann’s Paris apartment-perfection! It was one of the best decisions we ever made-totally amazing and unforgettable! 

 

Having Corey and Yann introduce us to the heart and soul of Provence was pure magic.  We couldn’t have imagined the adventures we would have and were unaware of the delights that waited around each and every corner. We treasured time with their gracious, talented artisan friends who welcomed us into their homes with open arms. We explored the elegant and the rustic of Provence, from a beautiful hotel to a crumbling chateau, to a hike high above the sea. We visited an extraordinary museum and stumbled upon a heavenly choir singing in a church. We experienced markets and unique shops.

We learned about French history and culture and listened to stories that entertained and made us laugh. Corey and Yann patiently answered our questions. Together, we explored the countryside and villages-all a photographer’s dream.

 

 

We learned about honey-from the hive to the local shop. We ate in quaint restaurants, had lunches with the perfect glass of Rose’ and in the evening, dining on beautiful meals prepared by Corey, while listening to music, all in the glow of candlelight. Randy and Yann walked to the patisserie each morning for croissants. The house next door and the charming bells of Saint-Zacharie welcomed us home each night.  We loved “living” next door. Corey and Yann shared so much more of Provence than I can say.  They are genuine, lovely people with enthusiasm and heart. We were spoiled and happy.

 

Exploring the French brocantes filled my heart with joy and renewed the love I have for aging fancies. I am smiling right now at the very thought.  There are treasures I left behind. They are calling to me to bring them home and I will.  So many memories to cherish and hold dear. 

Here’s to friends!

Thank you, dear Corey, for the honor and privilege of writing a piece for your blog.

With love,

Kathy

 

I leave you with a quote by St. Therese.

“May today there be peace within.  May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others.  May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content with yourself just the way you are.  Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.”

Taking the Step Towards Kindness

         Photo taken through a window in Paris last night

Text by Adrian Michael on Instagram 

 

 

Guest Post: Diogenes

 

“Walking in LA, nobody walks in LA. LA is a great big freeway, put a hundred down and buy a car.”  If you’re anywhere near my age you know those lyrics and nothing could be further from the truth.  If you ask someone here where they’re from, they’ll tell you which neighborhood, never just LA.  In reality, this is a city of unique neighborhoods, many of them totally walkable with their own main streets, cafes, little shops, housing styles, and identities.  Atwater Village, West Hollywood, Larchmont Village, Brentwood, Frogtown, Santa Monica, Old Town Pasadena, Franklin Village - the list goes on forever.

I live in West Hollywood. It’s in the low 80s today, so I thought we could go exploring together. Let’s walk down my street and get some coffee first.

 

 

 

 

 

There are so many little cafes to choose from, they line the streets, but this one is right here in front of us.  You’ll like the service!  And the 70s disco music playing in the background...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After an espresso, I thought we’d hit up the local parks together.  Since we’ve been dealing with Covid, I've been walking more and I've discovered we have parks!  Lots, apparently!  We may as well be outside. Let’s head down SMB aka Santa Monica Boulevard.

 

 

 

 

OK first up West Hollywood Park.  There are rotating art exhibits that come and go, but it’s always interesting. And check out those ficus trees.  That's what happens to those little office trees in pots when they are set free.

 

 

 

 

 

We’ve seen some art, but it’s getting warm out, so let’s head a couple of minutes west to Norma Triangle Park, a teaspoon of green in the middle of all the homes and condos here, and a 10-minute walk from my place.  It has a cool fountain and some benches for us to hang out.

 

 

 

 

I also wanted to show you the redone cactus garden that looks so impressive from the street, but that’s another mile or so west in the next neighborhood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We can cut through the Beverly Gardens trail and stay cool. It’s next to Santa Monica Boulevard.  Here below is the cactus garden, which I've read was created in 1934 and updated last year with mature specimens.  And two long blocks to the north is the park where George Michael was caught "in flagrant" - but wait I don't want to gossip! ;-)  It's the park with the fountains and turtles below, named Will Roger's Park.  A relaxing place to sit with a book.

 

 

 

Finally, we've walked a couple of miles now, so we can Uber back over to my favorite, a city park on the roof of a 4-story retail building, a park created in exchange for extra building height I’ve heard.  You can bring your dogs, cats, coffee, or whatever up with you and hang out.  Everyone does!  And at night they light the candles and you have a view of the hills.  And at night, the neighborhood is filled with creatives.  So come visit when all this is over, the lattes are on me.

 

 

 

 

-------------------------------------------SIDENOTE---

 

 

A few peeks into Diogenes beautiful home:

 

Back in 2013, I had the pleasure of meeting Diogenes when I was in LA giving a talk for Spellbound the women gathered at Spellbound asked me if I knew this man "Diogenes"? I shook my head yes, "Well, through the blog I do, but in person -- no." They thought I was a bit mad, not to give it a second thought, to leave the hotel in a strange man's car. Though one thing I have learned from blogging is that if anyone takes time to read my blog, and wants to meet me... then I figure we must be kindred spirits. At 10:30 sharp a black car pulled up in front of the hotel... Instantly, I knew we were going to have a wonderful day. It felt like we had been friends all my life.

 

We had a fabulous morning and talked constantly about anything and everything. Diogenes asked me if there was anything I wanted to see or do in Los Angeles before we continued on the planned adventure. I said I wanted to see his home. So off we went to see his home.

I imagined my friends back at SpellBound shaking their heads at me, "Crazy girl going to a stranger's home!"

Diogenes' home is/was gorgeous! Thank you again for the amazing tour and your friendship.

Guest Post: Arnelle Louise Kaas

 

This November my blog will be 16 years old. To celebrate I am asking you my readers to submit a Guest Post for my blog as a way of celebrating our connectedness as a community through social media. 

I hope you will send me your story or at least a glimpse into your life (please send your story and JPEG photos to my email then I will post them to my blog. This will introduce you to one another.

Some of you are feeling shy, or worse not worthy as if there is a prize for the best life lived. I hope, truly hope, you will take a leap of faith in telling me and my readers about yourself, a cherished memory, a recipe, a hobby, what inspires you, what you dream about, and more importantly how are you? What are you living with or through right now?

Your story, as all of our stories, are one, interconnected by the weaver, the river, the dreamer, the wind, the path as we are on moving forward to the light. Please consider sharing a bit of yourself with me.

Thank you in advance for being part of French la Vie / Tongue in Cheek. 

______________________________________________________________

To All… The tribe of French la Vie,

 

 

I am Arnelle Louise.

Corey asked if I would share a little of my life but where do you begin? Maybe by telling you about a box I opened. The cardboard had that mildewed smell of staying in a damp basement for a way too long. I will add that my husband had been after me for years to go through this mystery, so one morning he put it in front of me and said, “today is the day!” Not to dwell on all the bits and pieces of my childhood I found hiding, I will just say my childhood scrapbook held the key to what became and still is my career. This large-format, 5 and dime book held page after page of furniture, room layouts, house facades, and close-ups of fabric. I always thought my memory was fairly on point, but I do not remember ever cutting or gluing these pages. So there you have it, I became an interior decorator.

 

 

 

This path was not direct.

-I was a postman.

-Worked in a now-famous Hippie Leather clothing company (Lenny Kravitz collects vintage pieces)

-Nurses Aid for terminally ill children

-Worked in a Vietnamese refugee camp in Hong Kong

-Had a small catering business

I have no formal training.

My drawing skills are pathetic.

But the realization that came to me was the importance of ‘finding home”.

 

 

Creating environments that clients feel safe, happy, and reflect who they are becoming my goal. Early on I realized that meeting a new client was not unlike being given a script of a character in a play. My goal was to be my client, walk in their shoes not the other way around. After almost forty years I have had the opportunity to act in many different roles in many different homes.

 

The rewards of this career have been tenfold. Working with individuals and families helped me to become more flexible and understanding as a person. I had to put aside how I live and what I like. How wonderful it is to look at colors with new eyes. Using colors that you thought you hated but now loved because the purple fabric and paint were perfect for your client.

How lucky I am.

 

On another note, I do not know how I know Corey, that is the truth. We share being independent California girls. We both grew up in a state that was filled with small farms and had a much slower pace. All I know is that my own journey to “finding home” lead me to France and my truly generous friend, Corey Amaro.

Yes, COVID 19 has taken away temporarily half of our lives, but Roger and I are healthy and look forward to returning to our corner of paradise... and also being reunited with Corey and Yann.

Peace and Health to All-

 

 

 

• What was the most helpful thing your parents did for you when you were growing up?

   My father was a house painter and would sit with me on the front porch while I colored in my coloring book.  He would blend colors with one,    two, three different crayons making it OK to come up with new colors. He would say, "You don’t have to stay within the lines".

 

That has been my life’s mantra!

 

 

 

 

 

• What inspires you when you create a home for others?

    Three things
   It always starts with architecture.  Is it a thin house or a thick house?  These two simple questions answered helps to define many decisions down the line

 The client. The client allows me to look at color, texture, light through their eyes which I find exciting and yes inspiring.

  Travel.  The French have a word which of course I have forgotten which translated means to be transported to an unknown or unfamiliar place.

  It is believed that this experience is good for the soul.

 

 

 

 

• How did you find your home in France?

  This story could be a long chapter in a book.  Let’s just say after many years, and before the internet was organized and helpful, we looked and looked.

   Finally, Roger said no more looking and that was that.  

But a trip to visit his family in Spain took us also back to France for one more try.  

I fell first in love with the country road that takes you to our last turn with a field cross, a petite statue of Mary, and 3 cypresses.

We entered through a gate walking along with the orchard...

My husband Roger looked at me

I knew I had made up my mind even before I had seen the house.

 

Since I do not speak French I have had to listen very carefully and not interrupt which I have a bad habit of doing.

Living in the countryside allows you to hear nature devoid of the white noise of the city.  Corey, you wrote about sitting by our pool and hearing something that you could not comprehend, you looked up and realized it was the sound of doves wings. Is that not a beautiful gift?

As you know Corey (maybe a book) that is the question that intrigues me.

I think it is that the South of France reminds me of California when I was a small little girl.  You ate fruits and vegetables based on the seasons.  Sundays were for family and drives out to the countryside. Life was slower and there was always a respect for nature. My Mother-in-Law spent her childhood near Montpellier escaping the Spanish Civil war.  She became our cheerleader as we searched for our dream.

 

 

• How does your life differ from France to the USA?

It is a small thing, but yet a big thing.  When in France we can go for 3 or 4 days without getting in our car!

Since we live in what I would say is a deep country,  we eat is definitely based on what is in season and available where we live.

When it is cold we definitely try and conserve heating fuel.  If we have a fire we cook in the fireplace, sharing a glass of wine, listening to music, and staying warm.

 

Follow Arnelle on Instagram

Guest Post: Judy Pinson

                                                 

 

 

                                                                                                  Our Love Story                    

 

The man I loved asked me to marry him three times, and I said “No” each time.

 

The first time was on the Grand Canal in Venice.

 

The second time, at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

 

The third time, we were on a train traveling through the mountains in California. It was for my birthday, a snowy trip he knew would be a dream come true for me. He opened a ring box, showed me a beautiful ring, asked me to marry him. He also said that he wanted me to have the ring no matter my answer. We arrived in Reno and went to dinner. Several minutes after arriving back to our hotel, I took one look at Bill and knew he was very sick. He was having a heart attack. A call was made, and he was rushed to the hospital. 

Am I a crazy woman?

Yes!!!

I was also very frightened and afraid of making a mistake again.

 

Bill and I met on eHarmony. His wife of 36 years, had died of cancer two years before. I had been single for over twenty years. Our experiences with love had been very different. He thought love was simple and straight forward. You find someone you love, marry them, and have a beautiful life together. I had once felt that way too... though the path of love unfortunately is never the same for anyone, mine was far from tender.

 

That was in 2007.

(By the way, YES, Bill did survive the heart attack. We spent three days in the hospital and then flew home to Portland, Oregon.) Two years later, we moved in together, and life began for us. We had our differences and worked them out. That’s was new for me. I was wonderfully surprised at many things. Nine years later, we got married. 

I met Corey through her blog about two years after I met Bill. My girlfriend had been reading her blog since the beginning. I contacted Corey and told her Bill and I were coming to France. Corey, being the kind, generous, loving, trusting person she is, invited us to meet with her. We met, hugged, laughed and hurried off to the brocante in that little town. Five minutes later, I left Bill at a table with a beer, talking with Yann. (Sidenote: We have been close friends ever since.)

Corey asked how long Bill and I had been married. I told her that we weren’t married. Corey just smiled, always accepting everyone wherever they are on their journey.

 

 

Happily together at Home Bill and me.

 

During that trip, Bill and I visited an amazing place, St. Baume. It was a magical place. It’s only about one-half hour from Corey’s home in St. Zacharie. In 2016, when Bill and I decided we would get married, I immediately contacted Corey. We asked if it would be possible to have a wedding ceremony at St. Baume. She said she could perform the ceremony. We were thrilled! Even though we tried to work out the details, sadly, it didn’t work. When June rolled around that year, we said our vows in front of a judge in Oregon City. The best part was when friends asked the next day, “How is married life?” I could happily say, “Same old, same wonderful old!”

I have read the stories that Corey’s readers have sent in. Amazing people—creative, resilient, and courageous. I don’t consider myself any of those things. That’s why I was more than a little surprised when Corey asked me to write about our crazy love story. I’m so honored to be a small part of this wonderful world of people who revolve around our mutual friend, Corey. 

 

Guest Post: Heather Bendet

 

 

Greetings to all of you I feel so honored to be able to write here as part of this wonderful community. As Corey had mentioned I felt shy like others about coming forward, which is unusual because I am a classic extrovert. Let me start by saying Hello and thank you for sharing this part of your day. My name is Heather and I met Corey online here in the blog world in 2008.  I also had a blog at that time. Sadly, I no longer blog I need to I really do, Corey always inspires me. 2008, My Blog was about the adventure of being a mom to small children among them twins. I was living in California and moved to Germany, the blog was a wonderful way to connect find community and share that experience. I found Tongue and Cheek, and have been mesmerized since because Corey is amazing and weaves a beautiful story with her kind words and beautiful pictures. I did get to go to Paris while we lived in

 

 

 

 

Germany, my son asked to celebrate his 6^th birthday on the Eiffel tower, at the time he was fascinated with the engineering of it. I drove my mother and the kids to France to celebrate his birthday and it was my first trip to France. It was good to finally get there after so many years of helping friends and family find their way to various French cities over the years. I went to Strasbourg often as it was only a short drive from where I lived in Germany. Sadly after only eight months and a huge scandal with my ex-husband, the children and I had to move to Texas, definitely not my chosen geographic location. The loss and frustrations of the mess that followed were so hard. This is one of the many reasons I admire Corey she blogs life, everything so beautifully even difficulties. I absolutely hope one day when we can travel again to meet Corey in person and see the beautiful countryside she calls home.

 

 

 

 

Years ago a close friend of mine from Australia said one word described me perfectly. Ideopraxist, it a glorious word that does sum me up. I have lived in 16 states and 3 countries. I have traveled to all 50 states and found something wonderful and unique in each. I love to travel and despite being a single Mom have managed some trips around the world. I have had many jobs from being a nurse to being an underwater archeologist.  I often had to adapt and change for where I was. A Jane of all trades and a master of none. I did study French in school and so many wonderful friends and memories are tied to that. At one time I was fluent enough I translated books and documents for work. Sadly my French has languished. Currently, I am working in International work which is my passion. I work for the US Government in all its excitement and frustration. I work in International training, we work with over 147 countries from training military dentist to pilots.

 

 

I love that I am able to work with people from around the world. My current role can be dry as I deal with the manpower to support the training compared with past roles working more directly with students. I still love the mission of connecting the international community and working on building and fostering partnerships globally. Today those beautiful small children are three incredible teenagers, in all the adventure and frustration that comes with being a Mom to teenagers. The 6-year-old is now almost 18, ready to graduate, speaks French (far better than I ever could), and has worked in Italy. The twins my dynamic duo are 13 there is never a dull moment.

 

 

Every day I come to this space Corey has created it as a solace, almost a busy Mom’s mediation. I find peace, glorious pictures, and stories that transport me to wonderful feelings and places. No matter how much chaos swirls around me I always know in my day I will have the wonderful calm moments of beauty here within this blog. I am thankful to Corey for creating this beautiful space where we can find meditation in pictures and rich stories. One of my favorite stories is the famous Copper bathtub, I laughed so much, especially trying to figure out how to get this tub to the inside. In the midst of the renovation, Corey found beauty and humor. I will one day see the famous Copper tub I have to, I love that tub too. We should all have that kind of love from family or friends, a spouse or partner someone who understands that yes indeed despite the small door or window or how impossible it seems we need the copper tub and it will complete the room and bring humor and beauty to our lives.

 

 

Life isn’t always where or what we would like it to be.

Keep trying,

keep searching,

find moments of beauty and humor,

Be present and try new things because this is what brings us together and helps us grow.

------------------

 

Follow Heather on Instagram

Facebook here.

Guest Post: Dixie Crane

This November my blog will be 16 years old. To celebrate I am asking you my readers to submit a Guest Post for my blog as a way of celebrating our connectedness as a community through social media. 

I hope you will send me your story or at least a glimpse into your life (please send your story and JPEG photos to my email then I will post them to my blog. This will introduce you to one another.

Many of you are feeling shy, or worse not worthy as if there is a prize for the best life lived. I hope, truly hope, you will take a leap of faith in telling me and my readers about yourself, a cherished memory, a recipe, a hobby, what inspires you, what you dream about, and more importantly how are you? What are you living with or through right now?

Your story, as all of our stories, are one, interconnected by the weaver, the river, the dreamer, the wind, the path as we are on moving forward to the light. Please consider sharing a bit of yourself with me.

Thank you in advance for being part of French la Vie / Tongue in Cheek. 

 

----------------

As a little girl, I grew up dreaming of being a mama with a happy little family, a white picket fence, and a "Suzy Homemaker" lifestyle. I got married at 18 and had 3 babies by the time I was 21. The last thing I expected was to end up single, with 3 small children, pregnant, and in poor health by the time I was 27. Life wasn't easy, but I was a dedicated mom, I worked hard and we survived. I didn't sleep much and sometimes I had two or three jobs, but the one thing I never lost was my creativity. You could always find me doing macrame, painting, sewing, beading, or crocheting--making something to sell or to make my home cute. It was the 1960s and I was the ultimate flower-child mama. If I could dream about it, I would try it!

In the summer of 1984, I was introduced to two gorgeous college boys. They were twins with bodies that appeared to have been carved out of mahogany, and they were working their way through college as male exotic dancers. Although they were recognized as great stage performers, they were quite humble and shy, therefore not good at promoting themselves. I became their surrogate mom, and I wanted to help them become more successful. And, of course, I had "ideas". Thus I began my journey into

the world of male exotic dancers.

I had jokingly referred to Mark and Max as my "double chocolate fudge brownies". This got me thinking--there were plenty of sexy male calendars being sold at the time, but why couldn't I publish a "cookbook" with photos of beautiful men attached to recipes with catchy names? So I got down to business; I hired a photographer, started collecting recipes, printed up business cards, and began my quest to find beautiful young men. It wasn't hard, California was filled with them and all my girlfriends carried my cards to freely give out to every handsome man they saw. (What an icebreaker!)

 

Long story short, as the guys met each other at photoshoots, etc. the concept of our own touring dance troupe evolved and before you know it, California Big Hunks was born and in time, a video was published. Although, at times, as the Big Hunks Mama, it was like herding a bunch of teenage girls, I was able to help young men financially, to provide entertainment, and to have lots of fun, all because I wasn't afraid to be creative and try something outrageous.

My message is this: dream big,

try new things,

help others,

have fun,

life is short!

 

Follow Dixie Crane on Facebook

California Big Hunks (sidenote: look for Dixie)

Questions, I have a million!

Are they other videos?

"We only did one video and it was sold on 8 track (tee hee) so, if it's online it's likely some kind of copy Jay Leno used part of it with one of the dancers with his own face dubbed in, some time ago."

Do you keep in touch (pun not intended wink) with any of those hunks guys?

I am occasionally in touch with Michael. Those guys are in their 50s now. 🤪

More fun parody here.

 

Filming Abroad During Covid-19

Sacha in Spain while working on a documentary this year.

 

Hello Everyone,

Traveling overseas for work has become difficult during COVID-19. 

When it comes to shoots abroad I'd like to offer my help to anyone who might have the need, whether you need a traveling shooter, people to connect with abroad, or help with rules, regulations, and translations.

Recently, I came back from my second trip to Europe in three months. Being a dual citizen (French/American) makes it easy for me to go back and forth and legally work in Europe.

I am a freelancer there too.

Finally, I also know many talented filmmakers in various departments I'd be happy to connect you with them throughout the USA and in Europe.

I hope this can help the filmmaking community.

Cheers,

Sacha

Guest Post: Sarah Lammey Webb

 

Hi There** 

My name is Sarah and I have been gifted with the invitation from Corey to tell a little about me and my life.

I am a flight attendant this month I start my 33rd year. To some that is a lot but to me it seems like yesterday when I was 25 I received the call from Piedmont airlines to come for an interview. Being a flight attendant is like no other job you will ever have few quit. Flying gets in your blood. I have been through numerous mergers, have had salary cuts, I also do not do a 9-5, sometimes get little sleep, but to see the world YES, please! I have had incredible opportunities that this lifestyle has given me.

 

 

 

As a flight attendant, I can work as little or as much as I want. I normally only work 14-16 days a month. I can fly free when I am not working, or just pay the tax when flying overseas. It is a lifestyle many people don’t get to have. I also fly to work as I am currently based in Dallas. What that means is I start and stop my trips there. I leave my house in Indianapolis hop on an airplane flight to work then go on a trip and then fly back to Indianapolis and drive home. I normally do the transatlantic flights but with covid, not much overseas is going on. 

 

I live outside Indianapolis in a small city which I love! There is always a vintage or antique market going on. A pop-up shop or live music. We live about 2 miles from an outdoor amphitheater and by we I mean my son Carson and I. He is almost 21 and is a beautifully gifted musician, artist, and a beautiful old soul. He is happiest listening or playing old blues or jazz. I have taken him all over the world as well. Every year we went somewhere different for spring break Seattle, San Francisco, Anchorage, Toronto, and for my 50th we went to Paris. In the middle of the Porte de Vanves flea market, he said, « I get it, mom! I get why you love the flea markets and antique shows!” We are super close and for that I am grateful.

 

And where does Corey come into my equation? I went through a really nasty divorce and decided to do something for myself. I had been following Corey for a while and when I saw that she was doing a French la Vie journey at first I hesitated… then decided I was worth it! I had traveled alone before but not for this long. So in 2017, I flew to Paris, and then Marseille and I met 2 others on the same trip. We clicked and decided to go back again last year. This time we stayed in Corey’s lovely home and made it our home base. Corey will take you to every artist home, every flea market within a 1-2 hour radius, and help you ship your goods back home. 
I have even met up with Corey while on an overnight in Paris! 

Bonjour mes amies Sue and Deanna.

 

 

I have a booth in a resale shop I call Portobello Road. (Like the famous flea market in London) this year it was renamed to Portobello Rd Travels. I bring back goods from all over the world, digging at any and all fleas in every country, for amazing treasures! Favorites are Porte de Hol in Brussels,   Porte de Vanves in Paris, plus a town outside London called Lewes.

I think hmmm will that fit in my bag or the first-class closet? 

 

Follow me on Facebook 

Portobello rd travels 

Or on Instagram Portobellordtravels

 

Misconceptions of my job~ 
Some people think we are waitresses — which there is nothing wrong with but most don't understand what we do, what we are trained to do (and go back every year to be recertified) We deal with medical emergencies, ok, yes people forget to eat or don't bring their needed food and they are diabetic. But also there are serious medical situations that happen like strokes and heart attacks. I just wish people would be more understanding of what we do and have some respect.

 
We transport more than vacation travelers we transport mail all over the world, life-saving medications (think eyes for someone’s surgery so they may see the world again) and equipment, military personnel, relief supplies after hurricanes or earthquakes, a quick evacuation, and even quicker emergency response. We drive dollars into the economy and we do it all with a smile on our face and the belief that it is the safest mode of transportation. Take a look around you and see how the airlines have influenced your life.

 

 

and sometimes I have time to look out the window to see the magnificent views, and I needed that right that at times.

 

Funny Flight attendant clip

 

Loves of my job~ 
Yes, I have met famous people some good some not so nice hahaha but favorites were Mr. Rogers and Muhammed Ali. My latest was Henry Winkler "the Fonz" What an absolute doll he was personable and kind.

 

I collected a bit of everything but my love for pottery is a sickness but I do use it! I collect vintage dustpans and have them hanging on my laundry room wall. 
I love to buy from local artists and my home is full of antiques from over the world, blown glass, and pottery. 

 

Flight attendants have tight bonds which is important, flight attendants have a closeness you cant get anywhere else. 

 

Mexico fun bakery

I love discovering new places, going to grocery stores in foreign countries, embrace other cultures, finding that hole in the wall spot that only flight crews can find, ask us!

 

 

Probably one of the best trips ever was a trip to Greece and Santorini with a close girlfriend, no schedule, we rented a car (we were brave) and saw the island, tasted the food and went to the wineries.

 
I flew into San Francisco and drove to Seattle and back once with another girlfriend. 
I have taken my son to the Redwoods, to Alcatraz, and to the Louvre in Paris. I believe the education of travel is important and makes you a better person in return. 

Flight attendants see some crazy things, just when you think you have seen and heard it all over the years... you haven't.
a few days ago a guy boarded with a saddle on a thick leather belt slung across his back. I could tell you worse but I won't!

 

It is an amazing life but I am happiest at home with my cat Holiday and my sweet kiddo Carson just being together and enjoying each other!

but……….don’t be surprised if on a whim after we meet I say, ”Let’s go have dinner in Paris because we can!”  and hop on an open flight and GO.

 

____________________

Sidenote:

I saw this and wanted to add it to Sarah's page:

“To the public saying that the airlines don’t deserve a bailout,

The airlines in the USA provide jobs to more than 750,000 people in the United States. Indirectly they provide jobs to over 10 million people. They transport more than just vacation travelers. They transport organs for transplant, life-saving medications, medical equipment, people seeking medical treatment, military personnel, your mail, your amazon orders, and your family members. They provide relief for emergency situations like hurricanes, mass fires, earthquakes, and floods. They provide a means of quick evacuation and rapid emergency response. They help drive over 1.7 Trillion dollars into our economy. And they do that all while working as the fastest and safest means of transportation. Yes they help you go on vacation, and yes they are big business, however, they are a vital part of our economy and our everyday lives. If they are let to fail as a result of this virus, then the effects will be widespread and devastating for our nation and the world. So take a minute, look around you, think about your life and how the airlines have influenced it.”

 

Sincerely,

An Airline Employee

 

Guest Post: Christine Stratemeier

This November my blog will be 16 years old. To celebrate I am asking you my readers to submit a Guest Post for my blog as a way of celebrating our connectedness as a community through social media. 

I hope you will send me your story or at least a glimpse into your life (please send your story and JPEG photos to my email then I will post them to my blog. This will introduce you to one another.

Many of you are feeling shy, or worse not worthy as if there is a prize for the best life lived. I hope, truly hope, you will take a leap of faith in telling me and my readers about yourself, a cherished memory, a recipe, a hobby, what inspires you, what you dream about, and more importantly how are you? What are you living with or through right now?

Your story, as all of our stories, are one, interconnected by the weaver, the river, the dreamer, the wind, the path as we are on moving forward to the light. Please consider sharing a bit of yourself with me.

Thank you in advance for being part of French la Vie / Tongue in Cheek. 

 

 

Corey has been a guiding light of generosity and joy to me ever since I began reading her blog all those years ago. I have no idea how I found her, but thank goodness that I did.

This is such a wonderful idea to invite us to join in and here’s a snapshot of the journey that brought me to Burgundy, France.

When you have been hard-wired to pass exams, get the top job, succeed in the City of London, work 80 hour weeks, wear high heeled shoes, all at the same time as maintaining an outstanding personal life with a distant objective on the sidelines to bear children, meeting a French winemaker and falling in love at first glance is not included in those parameters.
Nevertheless, it’s what happened to me.

 

 

Successfully living my life as a lawyer with a global London law firm, seconded to Hong Kong for a five-year contract, earning mega money and thinking I was very cool, my gut suddenly took me elsewhere, and resulting from a conversation sitting in an alleyway next to stinky dustbins outside the 1997 nightclub in Lan Kwai Fong with a man I had met five hours earlier, I gave notice on my job, my apartment sold my car and arrived lock stock and smoking barrel in Echevronne, France.

My new boyfriend of three days, for that, was how long he was staying in Hong Kong with a mutual friend, and I, didn’t have the benefit of modern means of communication: cell phones, Facebook, Whatsapp, Facetime were the stuff of futuristic imagination. We were limited to landline telephones, hindered by the time difference between France and Hong Kong, and the fact that he worked ( still does ) very long hours in his vineyards nowhere near a phone. We somehow managed to kindle our admiration of one another and eight months after our meeting I had succeeded in extricating myself from several complex litigation cases and the life that I had created for myself, and very much enjoyed!

 

My arrival in Burgundy was eagerly awaited by the entire village of 250 people, most of whom appeared to have the same surname as my new family. In fact, I rapidly realized that the village was my new family. My future mother-in-law was standing in the street ( there is only one street ) and my future father-in-law, who was a member of the national parliament at the time, was being driven down from Paris at high speed so as not to miss out on a moment of the great event. I adored my sisters-in-law immediately as they are both tall with big feet, and I quickly realized that both love eating and drinking. I was emerging from a culture of daily gym, tennis, and swimming, where ordering a dessert in a restaurant would cause an embarrassed hush. Here were women, who in the French way, were, and still are, slender, chic, and gourmands. At dessert time during our first meal en famille at our nearest Michelin one-star restaurant, I refused to order from the laden trolley. My sisters-in-law, as if rehearsed and absolutely at the same time, cried «  But no, you must order a dessert. We will eat it for you ». I knew that my life was going to be fine.

 

My new family is an old established wine-making clan in Burgundy. My father-in-law was very active in re-establishing the vineyards around our village, which is up in the hills above the famous wine route from Chassagne Montrachet in the south up to Gevrey Chambertin in the north. We now have vineyards spread over about 40 km, producing white and red wines from Chardonnay and Pinot Noir grapes. As well as being an energetic and highly respected member of the winemaking community, he was also the elected member of parliament for the region. Shall we say that he was well known; Now, I had never been a girl who had dreamt of her wedding day. Luckily I was taken in hand by my dear sisters-in-law, who thought of things like dresses, flowers, and decoration. So everything was going to be organized for me. My parents were in England and we were to wed in France, the ceremony to be officiated over by my famous f-in-l, also mayor of the village. They were still reeling from the shock of their highly ambitious daughter «  throwing herself away » for the love of a rogue Frenchman and seemed to be content to turn up in time for a ceremony that they were not going to understand.

 

 

What I hadn’t realized that in France, particularly rural France, there are two echelons of wedding invitation. There’s the full invitation, which includes the ceremony, of course, the drinks and the sit-down dinner, onion soup at 4 am, and breakfast and lunch the following day. Family, close friends, and so on. But there’s the other sort and that’s what caught me out. This is the ceremony and drinks invitation. And thanks to the position that my future family held in our local world, but also in the national world, and indeed the entire world, well, there were 900 people for drinks. And that’s only because some couldn’t come. And they all bore gifts. And expected to shake hands and claim their kiss from the bride. The line-up took four hours. My cheeks are still sore. I still, 32 years later, meet people in town who stop and tell me how wonderful  I looked that day, and I have no idea who they are.  

 

 

 

 

But don’t worry, no inflated egos are allowed here in the Côte d’Or, where reputations (and fortunes) are made thanks to the luck of the draw of your inherited vineyards and not how many years you spent at university. It’s also useful if the wine you make is decent!

 

I didn’t know this when I fell in love with Jean-Michel, otherwise, I would have done my research more thoroughly. Some Grand Cru wines sell for more than 1000€ per bottle – no error in the zeros there. And that’s direct from the producer. Now, why did I find and love the winemaker without any Grand Cru !! What I am trying to say is that all my diplomas, legal achievements, and smart suits meant absolutely nothing here. French country people don’t ask questions about where you come from, which school did you attend, which university, what does your father do? There is a certain reserve, but also as a foreigner you hold a special position which means you are undefinable. So why bother to find out about you, because you are incomprehensible in any event. Being English, where the criteria listed above, and of course your accent when you speak, immediately define you, this took, some getting used to. It is liberating, but also irritating. Especially if you can’t express yourself as well as you’d like to in your new language. In the beginning, when my every phrase of spoken French required half an hour of rehearsal, many of those that I met made the remark that I seemed very nice, was certainly very pretty, but maybe had a drinking problem as all I could do to pass the time as the conversation reeled about me was to consume Kir after Kir. And don’t be fooled, a Kir is stronger than you think!

 

 My husband’s art using elements of winemaking.

 

Anyway,  32 years later with three amazing children who are now 28, 26, and almost 21, a house we built ourselves, another one being built also by ourselves, thanks to time freed up during confinement and a bolt hole in Spain, a successful wine estate, and a husband who is never, ever ordinary, I am simply grateful that I listened to my instincts sitting on the pavement next to that dustbin in Lan Kwai Fong.

 

Questions:

Did you speak French before arriving in France?

My French was at an excellent high school level, meaning I had read Molière and Voltaire but was incapable of holding a conversation.

How was the harvest this year?

The harvest this year was very early indeed due to the beautiful spring weather and dry summer. The berries were very clean and healthy, but small, due to the lack of rain, which means that the crop is of excellent quality but small in quantity.

Can we come visit you and drink some wine?

The Domaine is open for tasting, and that's how we sell more than 50% of our wine. Tasting is by appointment, although we do have people who drop in - it's best to make an appointment to make sure that we are here, and also we can organise our day around the rdv. Purchasing our wine is very easy : either on the spot, or through our US agent, or direct from us and we ship directly to our private clients. We take payment at a distance by bank card.

We are selling a lot of wine by correspondance at the moment as it's so hard for people to travel and collect themselves. During November and December we deliver ourselves to our French clients, free of charge ( certain regions, but almost everywhere ). We have been holding zoom tastings with a number of wine clubs throughout the world, which is great fun. We could look at trying to organize one early next year for the readers of your blog ! that would be fabulous fun.

Contact to lucien-jacob@wanadoo.fr or phone +33 (0)3 80 21 52 15. We all speak English.

Follow Christine on Facebook

 

Guest Post Lana

 

This November my blog will be 16 years old. To celebrate I am asking you my readers to submit a Guest Post for my blog as a way of celebrating our connectedness as a community through social media. 

I hope you will send me your story or at least a glimpse into your life (please send your story and JPEG photos to my email then I will post them to my blog. This will introduce you to one another.

Many of you are feeling shy, or worse not worthy as if there is a prize for the best life lived. I hope, truly hope, you will take a leap of faith in telling me and my readers about yourself, a cherished memory, a recipe, a hobby, what inspires you, what you dream about, and more importantly how are you? What are you living with or through right now?

Your story, as all of our stories, are one, interconnected by the weaver, the river, the dreamer, the wind, the path as we are on moving forward to the light. Please consider sharing a bit of yourself with me.

Thank you in advance for being part of French la Vie / Tongue in Cheek. 

...

 

 

 

Corey and me in Oakland

 

 

French la Vie/ Tongue in Cheek has played such an important part in my journey I have followed Corey for years.

 

I found out early that we had a lot in common. Corey was raised in Willows, California and I was raised in Berkeley.  We have family in Willows and Corey's family knew them.

 

We would visit Willows often as my father's father lived there with his family and they owned a large supermarket in town. Their family name is Mock which is my maiden name.

 

 

My five sisters and me

 

 

My father had a meat market in Oakland. During WWII he entered and served when he was discharged, he re-opened the store. I have five sisters yes, six girls we worked at my father's market. Burning the feathers off of the chickens, cleaning and cutting them up for restaurants, stocking up the meat cases, and waiting on customers, we worked alongside ten other butchers.

 

After attending UC Berkeley studying classical archaeology, at a young age I was married for eight years when we divorced, I was devastated, I thought I would not put all my chickens in one basket again. I would have my own friends: both female and male and I would do what I like, instead of swallowing my personality to accommodate only the interests of another man. 

 

I decided to catch up for the lost time. I dated, partied, attended concerts, and thoroughly enjoyed myself.  I had a wonderful 4 yr relationship that I thought would last, but it ended sadly or maybe not.  I re-grouped and remarried a 2nd time this time to a lawyer it was definitely a case of rebound.  I divorced within the year.

 

My first husband was a major drug dealer who manufactured meth and sold cocaine internationally. This was unknown to me while we were married he later served thirteen years in federal prison in the USA and in England.

 

My second husband is currently serving seven years in jail for embezzling twenty four million dollars from clients' trusts and wooing women we had homes in Pebble Beach and Tiburon.

 

My husband Steve and me at Christmas

 

 

Then I met my third husband. We will be celebrating thirty eight years on October 29th. My husband Steve Kloch is a kind, helpful, supportive husband.  He supports my interest in my love of France and anything French.

 

 Corey and I connected when I visited my cousins in Willows, we started a beautiful relationship. She had arrived from France and was going to talk about her adventures at a well-known furniture store in Chico (Nantucket) my husband and I drove up and met her (again) and her husband Yann.

 

 

A corner in my home

 

Since then, I have bought treasures on her brocante site and was able to attend her French la Vie.  I was exposed to the best brocantes and artists.

 

More importantly, I discovered that Corey has, the best taste, designs, and eye for architecture, remodeling, staging, decor, and cooking. Her home in France and her apartment in Paris would make anyone feel like a princess. It's as if you were a millionaire paying millionaire prices for what she provides.

 

 

 

Chelsea, Dolores and me in Willows

 

When I stayed with Corey in Willows, I learned she got some of her beautiful attributes from her mother Dolores. The family traditions, the baking, making the home so beautiful was her hobby and love. She scattered so many collections throughout her home indoors and outdoors.

 

 

A peek at some of the "Sense and Nonsense" I have.

 

 

 

 

One of my first finds in Paris’s brocante 10 years ago, a metallic embroidered memoriam celebrating a wedding.

 

 

I am Seventy Seven years old now the last fifteen years or so I have been collecting / selling French ware. Aso I have published 2 magazines and started a business with the help of Wendy Addison, Theatre of Dreams my business is called: Stuff and Nonsense.

 

 

We hold classes in our home for teachers who need a safe space to teach and invite guests who appreciate these artists.  I am able to share my love of cooking at these events.. and my husband plays a large part in this too as he serves the coffee and refills and the champagne. He ensures the guests have a great time.

 

 

 

I also hold sales in the home and @ the theatre of dreams in Port Costa. Where I will be selling again the week, before Thanksgiving.

 

To be with Corey Amaro and share in her passions has made my life so remarkable.  I hope my friends are able to find their passion and make magic. Life is a gift. We can make it what we want, keep a positive attitude, and surround yourself with positive people.

 Life is a journey with many twists and turns I would not change a thing to become who I am today with the interests, friendships, and passions I have today. 

 

Follow Lana on Facebook.

 

Lana on Instagram

 

Guest Post: Lil

                             Lil's paintings!

 

 

I'm not sure how I found 'French la Vie' (Tongue in Cheek) so many years ago but I was probably googling something French and returned each day because Corey's posts are like a little visit to France or to Willows or to wherever she's ventured. ...Here's a little about me and my first visit to Paris.

 

I am half French. My mother's family names are Dozois and Laurence and I remember that on my first visit to Paris in 1974 I saw their faces everywhere. I'd spent most of that college 'year abroad' in Italy and no one ever mistook me for an Italian, but once I got to France I felt at home. People would even ask me for directions, thinking I was a native. 

 

I'd taken six years of French in school and could understand most of what was said to me, but I couldn't speak French. I needed more practice so in January of that year I moved to Paris and lived in a 'chambre de bonne', a maid's room, on the 6th floor of a beautiful building in the 16th arrondissement. It was very romantic and very cold! There was no heat! To get to my room I climbed a dark back staircase and I spent a lot of time under the covers of my bed trying to stay warm. But I was in Paris! The little windows looked out on the rooftops of a beautiful neighborhood and I bought birdseed for the birds and fed them outside my window and wandered around Paris.

 

 

The above is not me but it is a 'chambre de bonne' like the one I lived in.

 

At the end of the school year I applied for a French painting scholarship. There were 5 scholarships which would have provided a studio and living expenses for a year in Paris. I was the first runner up but sadly none of the winners reneged. So instead of the trajectory that an all expense paid year of painting in Paris would have set me on, I moved to New York where I lived in a loft and painted and waitressed. Life was pretty hard in New York on a waitress' income so one very snowy winter I got on a bus for California and after three and a half days I arrived in San Francisco. I was in heaven. The sky was blue and the lighting was Mediterranean. Sun!

  

 

I moved into a loft and to earn money worked for Beach Blanket Babylon making theatrical hats and for the Opera and eventually worked my way into making props for filmmakers. (I don't have any photos handy of my old work or jobs (digging those out and digitizing them is one of my planned projects). I worked on the early Star Wars movies in San Rafael and eventually became an art director and concept artist for films.  

 

 

My painting took a back seat while I worked year after year on films and now 'fast forward' 25 years and many movie projects later and here I am, happily retired. During that time I married the love of my life and we had a wonderful son who is also the love of my life. He's grown now and living in Seattle.

 

 

                 My baby when he was a year old.

 

 

 

 

2020 has been a tough year for everyone with the virus and politics and here in CA we've had the extra burden of the fires and smoke filled air. The good thing is that my husband and I have discovered new beautiful places in the Bay Area to walk. Lately we look at the local air quality map each day to see where the air is clear and off we go. He and I have been together for 35 years now and, luckily, we still enjoy each other's company!

 

Here's a little bit about where we live...

Our house is high on a hill in Marin and we're the last house before Open Space. If you walk up from our house to the top of Bald Hill, this is the view. That's San Francisco in the distance on the right. This photo was taken in March of this year.

 

Unfortunately it hasn't been that beautiful or clear for over a month because of the fires and smoke. As you've probably seen on the news, on November 9th the skies here were orange in the middle of the day. Very eerie. 

 

 

 

But spring was beautiful. We had swallows in our birdhouse in May and bluebirds in the same birdhouse before that. There's lots of wildlife around here; coyote, fox and deer and hawks and turkey vultures. We saw this bobcat sitting on a fallen tree above our property in April. 

 

 

 

Persimmon and lemons 8" x 10"

 

I still paint but instead of the big expressionist paintings I used to do when I started out, I now do little 8"x10" still lives. I'm conscious of downsizing these days and that has included my artwork.

 

 

Someday I hope to get back to France. I want to walk in the parks and sit and listen and just soak up the language and mannerisms. I'll have a croissant and un cafe and maybe work on my French a bit. I don't need to go to museums and landmarks. I just want to 'be' in France.

 

And that's my life in a nutshell! It's nice to get to know a little about you other 'French la Vie' fans. Thanks for sharing a glimpse into your lives. 'Lil'

 

My Mother's Birthday

 

My mother's birthday.

This incredible year that has shaped us in ways we never imagined. A year where I sat countless hours with my mom doing things I had dreamed about for years, everyday simple things, sharing life as one does without realizing the gift that it is: We cooked, fed the chickens, wrote letters, hung clothes on the line, baked pies, picked berries, laughed, watch TV, played cards, cheated, ate way too many popsicles, and cookies, cracked countless bags of walnuts, visited my dad's grave, made bouquets of flowers and said the rosary every night silently by each other's side.

I fell more in love with my mom. I saw her with adult eyes, I saw her for the powerful loving woman that she has always been. I saw her faith and how she lives her life in that faith. I have so much to learn by her example. Her steadfast truth in doing what is the right thing to do and to do it without counting the cost or expecting anything in return.

 

She loves to be in her garden and sits outside every chance she gets.

 

 

 

I spent five and a half wonderful months with my mom mostly alone during the beginning of Covid I watched it change our lives and witnessed how it was going to continue to change our lives as time goes on.

Spending those five and a half months with my mom was one of the most unexpected cherished gifts. Everything I had missed or felt I had missed came gently and reassuringly that love no matter the distance nor time passed is present, tangible, and real. I do not know why I am so fortunate to have been given such a richness but I am grateful for the source it has given my soul.

My mom the firecracker, whippersnapper, baker, cook, bottlewasher, decorator, giver, sensitive, heartful mom celebrates her birthday differently today but with an attitude that I admire and long to obtain.

(My mother doesn't like her picture taken, nor does she like attention brought to herself, so I am in big trouble. I mean BIG. But I live far away so I figure there isn't too much she can do except say, "Corey for crying out loud what were you thinking posting about me?"

In which I will answer, "Umm let's say Love You Mom."

 

 

Kate my youngest niece with her Va. Kate goes almost every day to see my mom and plays cards. Probably is learning to cheat, or at least catching my mom at her own game.

 

 

 

 

Usually, my family and I go "home" this time of year as it is the best time, my mother's birthday, not too hot, harvest, pomegranates are ripe, Halloween, Thanksgiving...

Last year my mom met her first and only great-grandchild Gabriel.

We had planned to be there this time of the year... instead, I send my mother a slew of videos of Gabriel.

 

 

 

 

My nieces send me photos of my mom (most of these photos are from them)

My mother has a fun-loving spirit, she is fast with wit and humor, and catches on to things at lightning speed. A tease, a jokester, and an easy laugh.

 

 

 

My mom loves to bake and does so every day. How I did not gain weight while at home I have no idea. My mom has taught my nieces and Sacha (who lived with her for a year after he finished school) to bake/cook. The photo above is when we made sweet bread (think butter) over and over again I can still taste it in my mind.

 

 

 

My mother has an enormous sweet tooth. Loves to snitch and lick her fingers. She knows a good thing and isn't afraid to dive into it with enthusiasm especially when it comes to family, baking, home...  Life is worth living every calorie.

 

 

My mom and brothers Mark and Mat.

Zane and Marty weren't there that day so I will just say we are the favorites (which she would say, "I have no favorites!" And I honestly believe she doesn't.).

 

 

 

(My mom, my sister in law Diane, Maci, Molly, Kate, Patti (the oldest grandchild) and my sister in law Suzy.)

My mother created "Monday Night Dinners" every Monday since her first grandchild was born she made dinner for the family all by herself: Planned the menu, shopped, set the table, cooked, baked, cleaned up, and slept soundly like she does every night.

Note four pies and table decor, that is my mom full-throttle extraordinaire giving without asking for anything in return.

 

 

Boys in the kitchen,

My mom, Mat leaning on the stove, Marty, Warren, Andy, and Mark.

 

 

 

My mom picking pomegranates from her ever loaded trees.

 

 

 

 

The two funny ones my mom and her grandson Joe, there are others, but these two do have a funny bone.

 

 

 

Another thing my mom does is on the birthdays of those she has loved who have died and on holidays my mom goes to the cemetery cleans their gravestones and adds flowers or and decor. I kid you not with a big family like ours you can say she is at the cemetery nearly 365 days a year. She carries a little broom, dustpan, bucket, and clippers in her pickup just for that reason.

 

 

and her love grows.

 

My mom with one of her sisters Louie, I think this was days before my mom started to stay at home due to covid. What fun we had. We baked sweetbread rolls A TON OF THEM, that they made for a church fundraiser auction. They let me eat 1 roll, 1.

My Aunt Louie would pinch a blob of dough for my mom and me to make the rolls. She knew exactly how many rolls she would have by eye, not by measure. 

 

 

My mother decorates for each season or holiday and has bouquets of fresh flowers from her garden ALWAYS on the counter, and table. 

 

 

 

My niece Molly sent me this photo. She took it looking through the window into my mother's home. Next to the window is the kitchen table, on Monday everyone has their "seat" this is where Molly usually sits. But since COVID nobody has been in my mother's home. It is her safe zone. When the grandchildren come to visit or my brothers/sisters-in-laws they visit outside. Can you imagine that? A home that was full of activity, cooking, and card playing and being loud and full? 

Today is her birthday. My mom said she was going to bake a pie or two for whoever comes to visit.

She will have plenty of visitors. She is loved and grateful and trusts that even Covid cannot spoil her day nor her outlook.

"What will be will be so we only have our attitude to mind and faith to follow..." is what she would say.

Happy Birthday, Dear Mom!