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Gatherings for the Holidays
Before Thanksgiving my mother and her business partner Holly closed their shop to prepare for Black Friday. As I have lived in France for a few thousand years,…
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Thanksgiving Confession
(Friday Fille: My new metallic shoes standing on the lane covered with Autumn leaves. Which has nothing to do with today's post.) Thanksgiving Confession…. Not only was the Turkey…
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Thanksgiving
In the church in the town I grew up in are stain glass windows that were brought over from the old church before it was tore down. They…
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In the Kitchen with my Mom
In the kitchen with my mom means homemade food, one delicious delight after another. The grandchildren know that Monday mornings mean waffles with warm maple syrup. As many as…
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Preparing for Thanksgiving
Black boots worn while walking on autumn leaves in the front yard of my mother's house. The days are crisp. The colors, a mixture of golden hues. Thanksgiving is…
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The Runaway
The first and only time I ran away from home I was seven years old. I remember I was mad at my mother– why I do not remember. Though…
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The Bride Wore White
My second cousin, the bride, knew her groom since they were in the fourth grade. They married in the Catholic church were many cousins have been…
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What to do with a Pumpkin?
Because my cousin Alma's daughter is going to be married today… Because I am unable to upload my photos, and video on my blog… Because I went shopping with my…
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Friday Fille Number Three
Friday Fille Unfocused photo from behind, but not to far behind. My mother and I are going shopping today. Usually, ever Friday she goes brocanting for…
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Back Home
Back home! One thing out of a million things that I look forward to when coming home is the drive down the lane to…
Categories
- Brocante
- French la Vie Creative Journeys
- Living in France
- Movable Feast
- My French Husband
- My Friend Annie
- Olivia and Gabriel
- Our Apartment in Paris
- Our Fisherman's House on the port of Cassis
- Palestine, Helping Mohammed and his Family
- Poetic Rambling
- Sacha & Chelsea
- Travels
- Uncategorized
- Willows, Memories from Back Home