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Dinner with a Paintbrush
When I arrived in France I didn't speak a word of French. Humble pie was my constant buddy, observing in silence my new vehicle and redecorating was how…
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Thanksgiving with Cinderella
My Mother use to call me Cinderella, not because I wore glass slippers, nor for my flare for transforming mice…
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A Thanksgiving Story from the Past: The French Postman
Yesterday the postman came to our door with a perfectly square box from the U.S.A. As I signed for it, the postman asked if it was someone's birthday? I told…
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A Touch of Grace
The bounty at the weekly French markets, a living art gallery, a dose of inspiration and more than that, the work of human hands combined with the grace…
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Wonderland
Wonderland. In a cardboard box, high up on a shelf, marked antique silk flowers, that had been carefully guarded by the shopkeeper, who no matter how many times Ruth begged…
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Gathering Strength
Life demands us to be strong. To embrace it as it comes, or wrestle with it until we can sit side by side with it. Life does not…
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Pumpkin Pasta
Pumpkin on Penne Pasta Cut the pumpkin into cubes, then steam until nearly cooked, firm but slightly tender. Chop finely and saute (in…
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Autumn Cornucopia
This afternoon was chilly, an Autumn breeze followed me indoors. A hunk of Roquefort waited on a chunk of baguette, A…
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My Wedding Ring
I never wanted a diamond ring when French Husband and I married.or maybe it was because we did not have money to spend on a wedding ring. …
Categories
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- Living in France
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- Palestine, Helping Mohammed and his Family
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- Willows, Memories from Back Home