Category: My French Husband
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Barking up the Right Tree
The TGV was running late, and my French Husband waited for me at midnight. Greeting him, I said, "Hi, Doll Face!" Looking bewildered with his tail between his legs, French Husband said, "Why do you call me Doug Face?" "Doug…
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Flying over Provence
I am waving to you… from the mosquito! Photos and details to come when I return to earth. Ooooooooooooooooooo me-o-my!
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The Art of Driving Your Husband Mad
I want my old car back. The car that I could park anywhere because it was small and had enough dings that one more would only add to the patina. I want my old car back. The old car that…
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Sitting around the Breakfast Table
Sitting around the breakfast table making plans for the day. Which brocante to go to? How many can we squeeze into a day? Can the car hold another armoire? Who gets to sit in front seat of the…
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French Country Food: A Craving for a Scrumpdillyumptious French Dessert
A French country meal starts with soup… lately we (Sacha and I) have had are fair share of it. French Husband has become a mini Paul Bocuse, I am not complaining, no siree. French Husband has cooked dinner every night…
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Fig Jam, French Husband & a Special Treat
French Husband called to tell me he had gone to Mr. Porte's and picked figs. "I am making fig jam," he said, "How do I know when it is done? And tell me, when to do the figs meltdown?"…