Category: My French Husband
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Don’t You Dare
So there I was in my normally happy mood at the brocante shop when I saw (in my opinion) this lovely big fluffy comfortable banquette (bench with a cushion). I took out my mental-not-in-order-of-importance-notebook, and went through the checklist…
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French Husband
Yum. French Husband wondered where and when I took this photo? I have no idea, somewhere between Marseille and Paris… the other day, or yesterday but not today, is all I can say. At any rate I don't care…
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Meeting French Husband’s Grandmother’s Art
Hanging above the antique buffet in the dining room, was an oval frame with a black and white photo of a lovely young woman. When I asked who she was French Husband's Uncle told me it was his mother. …
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The Meaning of Cute Signs, or How Not to be French
The impasse that we live on does not have a street sign, though it is has a name that nobody in our village knows of. Instead they refer to it as, "Where Monsieur Dupont use to live." To complicate the…
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Discovering Our New Neighborhood
Our apartment is in a neighborhood that is not touristic. My most favorite brocante is literally fifteen minutes away on foot. At the turn of the centtury, the neighborhood was were many artists had their studios, Monet and Renoir to name…