Category: My French Husband
-
The Way They Were, the way they are.
These two are clearly a couple. Bound together by history, gravity, and matching frames that were once gilded and beautiful. Time has not been kind. Nor has moisture. They are barely hanging on. She is attempting dignity, but dignity has…
-
A Sneaky Persimmon
This afternoon I wandered out to my friends’ olive orchard, where one sunburst persimmon tree—heavy with golden fruit—stood like a jeweled guest among the silver leaves. Arnelle had just cut me a few branches for decor, their bright orbs glowing…
-
Thank You for the Birthday Wishes
Thank you for the birthday wishes — we read them at dinner! Our friends Mari and Shelby invited us out to celebrate, and Mari took these photos of us. We had a wonderful evening, and right in the middle of…
-
Yann’s Birthday
It’s Yann’s birthday today.I’m lucky I get to share it with him. One of the things I admire most about Yann is this:No matter where we are—at home, with our grandchildren, with friends, visitors, in any work situation—he’s the same.…
-
The Man, The Myth, The Underwear
My husband has a special relationship with his clothes. It’s a commitment. He wears them until they fall off. And not in a sexy way. Think more “archaeological dig” than “romantic striptease.” Now, I’m not talking about a favorite shirt…
-
1988 Paris
“The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.” —Audrey Hepburn