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Being French at the Bistro
French Bistro, Morning: Walk straight to the counter, when the bartender looks at you, nod your head, point your pointer finger up, and at the same time mouth whisper, "Espresso…
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What’s the Beef?
Flash Back 1988: Staring at the French menu, French Husband translated it for me but not word for word. He read, "Chicken no. Lamb no. Bunny…
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Speaking French But Not Really
This is our grand niece Tatianna she is fifteen years old. In 2009 I wrote this about her: _______________________________________________________ The mothers gathered at the school gate wore their…
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Yann’s Return
Yann came home from India. I can see in his eyes that he has had a wonderful adventure, snippets of stories unfolded one moment to another as he unpacked his bag…
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The Undergarment Shop Reveals the Truth
A little girl who had short red curly hair, bobbed up and down the aisle while her Mother looked at undergarments. I was amused by her non-stop chatter and her…
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This evening I put two paper mache pumpkins on the window sill, though within minutes the rain had reduced them into an orange puddle. I turned on…
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The Man Digging Through the Garbage at the Train Station
A homeless man rummaged through the garbage at the train station, he found a coffee cup that someone had thrown away he opened it to find it…
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The Master Painter and the Canvas
Painting Paris. Painting France. The vivid colors of day to day life mixed in with the fantasy and history. The stuff of dreams: Golden baguette, blue shutter,…
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Snapshots from India
I haven’t heard much from Yann. Three phone calls: One was to say he arrived and all was will, the second was while I was in the train and…
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Freezing But Happy at the Brocante
I could barely focus due to how cold it was at the brocante in Paris this morning. It did not help that I wasn't dressed for the 20-degree drop in…
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