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French Brocante Markets
Antiques stir my imagination! They whisper stories in my ear, when I am at the brocante market the parade of history and…
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Following your path
When you come to a fork in the road, where what you want is right in front of you, yet what is safe…
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Une Bonne Fille
Back home, she was considered a good girl, but in Paris, she was considered vraiment bien! When her Mother wrote asking if she…
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Carte Postal
Ma Chère, The letter begins like many others with a tender greeting. Though the force of the words that followed were…
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Let it be
This morning I heard the sunrise. I sat up in my bed and looked out my…
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Wallflower
While waiting for happiness to bloom she painted flowers in her journal. Page after page. Dipping her paint brush in…
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Mademoiselle Auguste Chier’s Trousseau
Madame Chier sat side by side her daughter as she dipped her fountain pen lightly into the inkwell… The composed list started with Auguste’s bed sheets. Madame gave the last…
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Brocante in France
On any Sunday morning you can find me at the brocante (antique fair.) Where I live, there are about twenty…
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Haircutting at the Monastery
When I lived in a monastery, the Abbot asked who knew how to cut hair. I raised my hand;…
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Une Amie pour tous les Jours
They had nothing to say to each other, yet they chatted endlessly. They wore the same hair-do, -shopped…
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