At the flea market I often see forgotten treasure boxes. Collection of memories in the form of bits and pieces. The boxes are not golden, nor crested in jewels. Often the treasure boxs are…

In my neck of the woods, there are fields upon little fields of poppies. Not California golden poppies, but red poppies. Poppies are spontaneous. Their colorful petals spread out like a picnic blanket over the fields. One can guess but…

Walking down the street in the neighboring village of Beausset, I couldn’t help noticing that nearly every door, had a cast iron hand door knocker. It struck me funny, was there a message behind the door for me? Though the…

Key rings to Paris. A dime a dozen for those of you who asked for the Eiffel tower! Paris is more than the Eiffel tower, and France is more than Paris. Though I love the Eiffel tower, Paris and France.…

Palm Sunday. The little French girls told me, while giggling, "We have the biggest bouquet of holy palms." Annie, I thought you would like this scene.   Little children, just like yours Kristy, show me joy in simple things. Elaine,…

The Seine river taking its time running through Paris. Melange I thought of you as I walked over the bridge. Jill and Lorene, under a grey sky and pouring rain the Eiffel tower seem to hide her face! This photo…