As one can imagine I am gaga over this new little person.
When comparing the two loves
One seems extra tiny and the other oversize.
Everyone is doing well.
Olivia was born in a bathtub at a natural birthing clinic in Paris
where Gabriel was born.
Chelsea's birth story can be summed up like this:
Fast, painless, unless you count two contractions hard, came home a few hours later, and hasn't missed a beat.
Four days old.
o-li-via in French
Photo by Chelsea
A happy little family.
Gabriel adores Olivia.
When Gabriel started to consume solids I would say,
"Mmm, mmm, mmm, yummy for the tummy."
Gabriel started to say this too, especially when something was extra delicious.
He refers to being hungry, or wanting something to eat as, "Yum".
When Gabriel first saw his mother he let out a giggle, nearly leaping out of his father's arms
to get to his mother and his sister. He was very aware that a baby was coming referring to her as Papilotte.
After he kissed the baby he said, "mmm, mmm, mmm." in the sweetest little voice.
My heart melted with tenderness.
Olivia
(In French it is pronounced with three syllables and in English four I am told.)
Eight pounds.
Born October 21.
Chelsea had a natural, easy, speedy (two hours plus) labor. Amazing.
Breastfeeding.
Nobody guessed name, date, weight, and hair correctly in the guessing game.
Though some of you did guess the name, and a few the date, even fewer the weight...
Original I thought Ophelia, 10 lbs, October around the full moon and no hair.
Hours old.
Thank you for supporting our family with love and kindness.
Overload to happiness.
Climbs up the wooden playground structure.
Takes it in.
In that sponge-like brain, he soaks it in
Sound, color, elements, people's expressions, he feels the energy, processes, absorbs.
Because every second is a learning moment and play is important.
Content.
Safe.
Check.
Turns around and goes down.
Then we went and ate a crepe.
Any day now someone will be with us.
p.s. Gabriel is not resting on her belly-
I have asked Chelsea how she can hold him in such a way and she reassured me that she is holding him up.
I can barely lift Gabriel.
Chelsea holds Gabriel often saying soon my baby won’t look so little when a tiny baby comes,
“I am cherishing these days where he is my little one.”
As I am in Paris counting down the days before the baby arrives with Chelsea and Co.
I am rediscovering old haunts and new wonders. Au Bain Marie
(A bain-marie, a type of heated bath, is a piece of equipment used in science, industry, and cooking to heat
materials gently or to keep materials warm over a period of time. A bain-marie is also used to melt ingredients for cooking)
I stumbled upon while walking back and forth from our apartment to Chelsea and Co.'s apartment (five miles) Au Bain Marie is
chock full and I mean CHOCK FULL!
The window display changes often enough that I could not help myself to go inside and take a peek. A mixture of the old and new tabletop is available
anything and everything for the table. Of course, I wanted to set a table right there and then with the variety they had.
Silver, faience, egg cups, crystal, salt shakers, silverware, teacups, plates, plates, plates, majolica, champagne buckets, baskets, pitchers, creamers, wine paraphernalia, picnic baskets, knife rest...
etc. etc. etc. etc... etc.!
Unfortunately, my pictures do not do it justice, I was snapping away not thinking I would share the photos though when I came home
I had to share what I saw in case you do not know of this place and for you to mark it down if ever you are in Paris-
There is something for everyone who enjoys mealtime and or a beautiful table.
The prices are fair and varied, the owners generously helpful and knowledgable.
So much to sort through it is as if the armoires of France moved their interiors into this shop.
You can order directly from their website.
T E M P T A T I O N B E W A R E.
If you are searching for a certain design or setting check here first.
I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw this flawless fragment of Cordoue Wrought Leather.
Standing there starring at it, as if to say, "How did that land at a fleamarket?"
"Leather wallpaper is a type of wallpaper used in various styles for wall covering. It is often referred to as wrought leather. It is often gilded, painted, and decorated. With the advent of wallpaper use from about 1650-1750, leather was used to cover and decorate sections of walls in the habitations of wealthy persons. Leather is pliable and could be decorated in various ways."
The first time I saw cordoue leather was back in 1990 in the entrance hall of my 90-year-old neighbor's home in Marseille. Madame L. was gracious and her home was full of incredible Louis sixteen furnishings. As soon as I walked into her home my French antique history lessons started the moment my eyes asked, "What is this?" Standing in the entrance I was surrounded by leather cordoue depicting the four seasons, a few Louis sixteen armchairs, and a small chest of drawers with an Imari bowl filled with rock crystal decanter stoppers.
"Cuir de Cordoue, or cordwain or cordovan (meaning: "from Cordudo"), sometimes called gold leather (from Dutch "goudleer"), refers to painted and gilded (and often embossed) leather hangings, manufactured in panels and assembled for covering walls as an alternative to tapestry. These terms are mostly used for historical and antique materials."
Imagine the surprise I had to see this piece just hanging out with some books, CDs, second-hand no label brand clothes, and toys mostly plastic.
How in the world does that happen? Everyday actually. The old world ushers in the new leaving us a few traces of how it used to be.
No hashtags, no signature, no "I created this first", instead just a fragment of historical everyday beauty without a trace of who created it, nor what they did the night it was completed. If they were artisans they probably had a bowl of soup, some bread, a chunk of cheese, and a glass of wine.
Madame L.'s cordoue was donated to a museum I was told. But in my mind's eye, it is in the entrance hall where Chelsea (five months old) is sitting on the floor with the Imari bowl full of glass decanter stoppers putting them in her mouth, Madame L. is pleased that they are being used for something. (Her son, Father L., years later would celebrate the sacrament of marriage with Chelsea and Martin.)
Back at the flea market, I asked the vendor for his phone number.
I do not need this piece.
It is more expensive than everything gather at the fleamarket combined- books, CDs, second-hand no-label brand clothes,
and toys mostly plastic ...
The vendor knows what this piece is.
I do not need it.
But gee the damn brocante just keeps biting.
At least I have some photos, a phone number and a new memory to attach to Madame L's lesson book.
The due date for Chelsea‘s baby is approaching so I thought we’d play a guessing game - in the comment section please give your responses to the following questions - the one who comes the closest will receive a gift when the baby arrives:
Date of Birth
Baby Girl’s Name
Weight
Hair or No hair
(Clues: Chelsea’s due date is October 25th, Gabriel weighed 10 lbs. so did Chelsea at birth. Neither my children nor Gabriel had any hair at birth, the baby’s name starts with one of the following letters M N L O P.
My nephew Warren
his sister Molly took this photo.
Today is my mother’s birthday.
She baked two cakes, « in case anyone comes over »,
my mother is thoughtful of others, even on her birthday.
Birthdays highlight the time that has passed between one year to the next. There is a tradition in Provence to remove one of the lite candles from their birthday cake, put it aside, then watch it slowly burn down. While the candle slowly burns those gather reflect about the year that has passed.
When I think of the year that has passed by for my mom my heart is full, it hasn’t been as one would have hoped.
And yet here she is baking cakes to greet those who will certainly come to visit her.
My mom is a hero when it comes to trailblazing faith, courage, and above all love.
❤️
Colors are the same,
Money is in Euros,
Rules and format the same,
Names of properties French streets and train stations.
Yann and I have been playing after dinner
it takes less than an hour for one of us to win.
We are tied.
Luck still has plenty to do with it.
When is the last time you played a board game?
Walking along in Paris
I spotted this mix media portrait in a
gallery window.
I dubbed it Road Map Madonna
though most likely it is another take on Frida Kahlo.
Oh the roads our lives travel on weaving us to each other.
....waiting to go to the Brocante.
This morning while typing this post for my blog I am waiting for a blogging friend to come by. I do not know her other than messages online. Nevertheless she reads my blog which means she knows more about me than I know about her. Though what I do know about Mary is this:
She loves the brocante. Do I need to know more?
In a few seconds she will ring my phone (that is what I told her to do when she got to my street) and I will run out and jump in her car and away we will go. I know this is an unusual way, a far from normal or proper way of meeting someone for the first time but very much my way of doing things when it comes to brocanting and meeting blogging buddies like you.
Yes when it comes to meeting people, and going to the brocante- jumping in is my style.
Time is a precious thing when it comes to doing what we love isn't it?
I'm sure we will have a grand friends... unless I stuff her in an armoire somewhere because she starts buying up everything I love-- In all honesty, I might have to do that forget friendship, forget kindness, forget me writing about it.
____
If you come over to meet me, and we go brocanting together
I have first dibs.
Of course I am teasing ... I think
Repost from 2009
During dinner this evening Gabriel called me Vavie.
He has been calling me O. E.
Though this evening he called me the name I called my Grandmothers
and that my children call my mom.
Today the tradition continues.
He was so cute after he said Vavie
he whispered O. E. a few times
and then he smiled.
Via Rebecca NYC
Remember Rebecca the opera singer from the Met?
After a long lockdown-
She has been singing again.
xxx
Ten years ago Sacha went to my hometown to do a gap year.
He stayed with my mom, while attending Senior year in the high school.
Do you remember that?
He was happy to spend time with his cousins.
Last weekend he returned for a wedding of a cousin.
----
Two hunks going to the wedding
Joe (My brother Mat and Sister in Law Shelley's son and Sacha.)
Marie (Joe's sister,) Sacha and my Sister in Law Shelley.
As out family is sooooooooooo big not everyone is invited to weddings.
I kid you not when I say there would be over 500 family members.
Unfortunately, Sacha did not send a photo other photos of the wedding.
I grabbed these off of his Instagram.
After the wedding he went to visit my Mother and to help cut the
dead branches from the trees surrounding her home.
Kate came by to hang out with Sacha and give him a hand.
-------
Regarding the glasses yesterday I am not selling those
but I can find others if you are interested.
-----
The glassware line up from different eras
but still serving up the same brew.
When in doubt serve champagne.
Champagne is one drink in France
that can be served anytime of the day or night.
I like that.
It doesn't have to be for a special reason.
This beauty is a Louis sixteen style champagne glass.
I found six of them in a dusty box at a flea market.
Dust not longer claims them.
A 1900s " good morning" juice glass.
A rare eighteen century (1700s) an aperitif glass.
The base of glasses this old
often have wider base and are
Slightly uneven in shape, and lightweight.
This one is filled purposefully with marbles as to remind me to be careful with it.
Hopefully, it will last another two hundred years.
A deep rose colored aperitif glass from the 1950s.
A 1900s French antique bistro glass
etched with the word: "fete"
(Feast- celebration)
Paper cups are a rarity unless at a fast food joint.
I love France for that even if I have to wash every glass by hand.
As evening falls
and the stars appear
dazzling as the guests
dinner sounds are heard
glasses are raised
singsong spills
wetting one's lip
a kiss to the rim.
The voice of compassion speaks from a wounded heart.
A heart that knows the price of love.
Is the one that understands that love does not need to be perfect to be good.
When I first arrived in Paris, Chez Paul was near our apartment. On special occasion we would go there for dinner
and have a glass of wine and a bowl of vegetable soup.
That was all we could afford, not that it was expensive but we didn't have much money to spend.
Over the last thirty some years we kept going back to our favorite place... our orders grew.
Yet Chez Paul has remained the same, down to the fixed telephone and the servers.
– Simple products – fresh and seasonal
[but true]
– Recipes anchored in time,
– Requirement and homemade cuisine,
– Authenticity and friendliness." via Chez Paul
"
"The Paris of 1900, lively and rustling. Coal and lemonade. This is what we found at 13 Rue de Charonne rocked by the accordion notes that accompanied the laughter and counter tours after the coal tour.
Hospitality and sharing are the values that Mr. and Mrs. Paul wanted to transmit and offer to visitors when they inherited the place in the late 1940s. Friends or families, artists or anonymous, loyal or passing customers, from here or elsewhere: a table was always available for them.
Chez Paul: it’s a little bit of each other. A story of meetings and friendships, a mosaic of captured moments mixed with emotions, scents and flavours. Moreover, all you have to do is walk through one of the 4 rooms to be – in your turn – caught up in these testimonies of yesterday and today that this atypical setting has to offer.
As a successor to Mrs. Thiebaud, the Karrenbauer family has been carrying on this tradition since 1998, with this twist that characterizes it so well." Via Chez Paul
Metro Ledru Rollin
Line 8 (exit 4 : rue de Charonne)
“A break in a hurried daily life, a comforting cuisine that is the heir to our French history and our land. We pay tribute to our culinary classics whose recipes are too often lost. A real wink to our grandmothers who, simmering good little dishes, always took care of the well-being of our gourmets and gourmet stomachs." via Pierre R., Head of emotion and delicacy.
A must when in Paris.
xxx
Not everyone was invited to the dinner
of peas, pasta, fish and yogurt.
Only a selected few.
Cinnabun, Baabaa, Aaron’s stuffed animal that somehow did not make it back his home, Chien, Bear, Panda, and Bun.
A rather large group of introverts were scooped up, carried haphazardly to sit on the table.
Yann, his mom and his sister
in Normandy.
The magnificent natural landscaped beach at low tide.
the ever changing beach in
Normandy.
My MIL has been a walking /hiking person ever since I have known her.
She out walked me until she was 88 -
I cannot imagine that to be a good thing consider our ages.
We walked five miles today as she often does, slowly nevertheless five miles.
Impressive.
Damn impressive.
When I hear younger people say, "I want to be like that when I am her age."
I think to myself, "Be it now, and everyday you can."
My MIL rode on the back of Yann's motorcycle when she was 89.
Climbed a mountain in the French Alps that I don't think I could do now.
People asked if we were sisters ten years ago.
My MIL hasn't any wrinkles on her face and hasn't had botox.
the list could go on and on...
We walked five miles on the beach today.
Amazing will power.
A pair of massive zinc window frames.
How often do you see them this large?
Armoires are a dime a dozen.
it seems nobody is interested in them anymore now that screen TVs are the thing.
Centuries old grain swathing board.
Isn't it amazing? This one was made into a coffee table.
I doubt Gabriel would climb on it to dance.
Yet another beauty standing alone.
My sister in law took me to this antique shop.
It was full full full of incredible pieces.
Prices were good as well.
I walked around admiring everything, but my days of buying big pieces
to fill containers are over. But if I were in that business again this shop would be my new favourite.
(Photo by Yann)
Being present to the moment-
To the kaleidoscope of emotions,
To the ever present play of light and darkness in the chasm.
Sitting still in the pregnant space...
waiting without hurried expectation.
Down by the river,
beyond the gate,
a dirt path
winds this way and that,
between the chestnut trees,
the sunlight filters through the leaves,
creating lace-like shadows on the ground.
The water rushes by and it seems
the birds sing in harmony with it.
Nothing is asked.
Though much is said.
Words spoken without a human voice.
The water gathered,
Serenading blue,
reflecting the sky,
Reflecting.
I listened.
Deeply, without moving,
The leaves rustled as the breeze went by,
Diamonds sparkled then tumbled into the water.
Light golden,
Clear,
Moving without a sound,
Caressing everything even me.
Healing light.
The light beckons further down the path.
I followed.
One step at a time,
with grace.
Listening,
Walking,
Humbly.
Nature speaks.
Tenderness, gratitude, peace..
The church was open late in the evening
the only light came from the candles lite by devotion and prayer requests
there were a few people silently praying
the moment I entered I felt love, sadness, peace
and a
release.
The womb surrounded me.
Be the light.
Who are you praying for?
Godspeed cousin Julie.
When I saw my cousin Linda's name appear on my phone I knew why she was calling.
The news was no surprise yet it was hard to believe, hard to feel, hard to hear the words:
Julie died early this morning.
Stardust to stardust.
A new journey begins for you and those of us who love you.
Writing this is surreal... life without you Julie is feels strange and sad.
Pop of color
perfect dose
to brighten the spirit.
To poke, "Live brightly, boldly, be beautiful you!"
How many hours spent playing, pretending and being happy, did this doll give?
How many times did the child's caregiver pick up the toys and put them away with care?
A century later her life is scattered on a table for everyone to see:
Missing legs,
no hair,
no two shoes alike.
a collections of mismatched socks
glass eyes,
an umbrella (I should have bought that)
a cash register
and some tiny empty boxes.
Waiting for a new playmate who will accept her on her terms.
What was your favorite toy as a child?
Today this Pickle said,
(Babao t'aime Ohi.)
"I love you"
Oh man did my eyes water up.
BTW he said it in French.
Yesterday the sky was clear though an overcast hung over me.
I carried Julie with me while walking
in and out of here and there over and under around and around
Came home after walking for several hours
made dinner of two bowls of Coco Puffs with blueberries to feel healthy,
binged watched on the British series on Netflix "Sex Education"
The windows were open
bird song flooded our home
Curious as to where the birdsongs was coming from I looked out our window
hundreds of birds on a crane singing their hearts out
Other people were looking out their window's too
Laughter through smiles filled my airspace with joy.
When joy slips in reign it in
Coco Puffs
Binge watching Netflix
Birdsong
------------------------------------
Thank you for your love and prayers for my cousin.
PS
the link to the video that some of you couldn't see the other day
The inside of this box took me by surprise, because of it I had to buy it then I sold it that is how it goes as a brocante buyer. In one hand and out by the other. 1800 hand embroidery piece tucked into a small case. It probably was used to hold a rosary or relic… I have seen plenty of curious and beautiful antiques many ask me how I can stand to let things go… I am not sentimental about objects, well maybe once in awhile, that is why I can do what I do. My mother would beg to differ as my home is stuffed. But if tomorrow someone wanted to buy it all I would let it go. Though Yann would throw a fit he likes things to stay the same. But if you ask him to find something let’s say a big red box with a purple bow in the fridge he wouldn’t be able to find it.
Are you like Yann or like me?
The plant identifier app that I use claimed it King Protea which I knew wasn't right.
The photos the app shared were nothing like the flower in my photo.
Thank you for the suggestions Leonie was the first to tell me it’s name it is a spider
My friend Mary (we were in a monastery together) sent me this article...
________
The differences between France and America are subtle take Mums and pumpkins for example.
Mums a fall flower arrives in force in October. They spill out from the French floral shops onto the streets, creating a parade of magnificent color. Just as pumpkins shout out Autumn in America, Mums are the flower that say Autumn is here in France. Pumpkins are a food in France, were in the States pumpkins are more for decoration, a Halloween Jack-o-Lantern.
When invited to a dinner party it is a thoughtful gesture to bring something to the hostess. Candy, wine, or flowers is the typical avenue. (FLASHBACK 1988...)
Why not bring a Mum's plant I thought and bought one that seem to be a perfect ball of gold.
When I came home French Husband told me it was a plant that symbolized All Soul's Day because:
"It is the flower we take to the graveside of those we love who have gone before us."
Oh! scratch that flower off the list.
Mums are not a flower to give to "the living" in France.
Calling it pretty isn’t enough.
Do you know more about it!
Water and being outside are two things most children love.
The fountain at the park was hard to turn on for most of the little hands there so Yann decided to hold it on for them.
Gabriel, as you can see doesn't like wet clothes, hence he was in his diaper.
Once the children knew that someone was holding the water on the lineup was continuous their pails, and water bottles were filled and dumped in the sand box.
carefree, barefoot, playing with water and sand at the end of summer.
The parks in Paris are full of children I am discovering more parks than brocantes, not really but sort of.
The thought above reminded me of
Saint Francis and his teachings-
… though when the bee stings me
the idea of being a flower fades.
Ah to be able to hold good thoughts about another when they sting you, to seek understanding in the face of adversity.
That was Saint Francis.
Finally at the end of summer the warm weather has arrived in Provence, driving everyone either inside or to the beach.
Luckily, for us our maison du village (house in the village) has stone walls that are over three feet thick. Our maison's wall butts up against the neighbor's maison's wall creating a six foot thick stone wall. Insulation at its finest: Cool interior in the summer, holds heat in during the winter.
Our home is a mere four hundred years old... and yes most French household keys do look like this.
The bakeries and pastries shop gift wrap their goods. Each item bought, whether a baguette, pain au chocolate, crossiant which is wrapped in light paper then the ends on the paper or twisted or, if you buy a cake or other pastries the light paper is used but instead of the ends twisted they tie a box up with a ribbon or string. Then you can carry the package of baked goods from the loop that the shopkeepers make when they tie up the packages.
When in France do what the French do... your bread never goes on your plate, unless a small plate is offered. Otherwise, and in more cases than not, your bread goes on the table, on the left corner of your plate above the fork.
Also instead of biting into a piece of bread, the French tear a bitesize piece of bread and eat it that way. It is consider rude otherwise.
At a restaurant tips are included in the bill.
You do not need to leave a tip. But you can leave a coin to be nice, but it is not consider bad if you do not.
Recently, at the brocante, a friend remarked how impress she was at the variety of French linens and lace one could find. She asked if it was always like this, or just the luck of the draw at this particular brocante?
I have said it many times and I'll keep on saying it... If France took out every piece of old linen, lace, dishtowel, bedsheet, and spread them out one by one, they could cover all of France, and have a massive slumber party.
Linens are plentiful.
If you want a thousand old nightshirts, or monogrammed bed sheets, or dish towels, or napkins, or lace, or nightgowns, or pantaloons, or table-clothes let me know and I'll have them to you within a week.
I would love to fulfill that bet, as long as I didn't have to pay for it.
The French say babies come from cabbages, just like the Americans say babies come from the stork. I say that when Chelsea came she was as big as a cabbage (ten pounds), and I wish the stork had delivered her to me.
In France, the French celebrate their 'name-day.' Every day of the year, a saint is remembered. If your name, or middle name is the same name as a saint (or a name that has something to do with a saint) then your family and friends give you a gift and / or say happy feast day to you. It is as if each French person has two birthdays. The word for the 'name-day' is: "Le jour de fête".
List of saints names for each day can be found here.
We do not do this is our Franco/American household as I can barely keep track of the day of the week. Numbers and I are not dancing partners. Plus the fact that Chelsea and Corey are not on the saints day list.
When I first arrived in France I asked my French Husband if I could have October 2nd as my feast day as it is the feast day of the Guardian Angels and I like angels, and Corey wasn't on the list. He siad, "No it doesn't work like this." That was the begining of what I call French Husband getting, "French in my face."
Playing cards:
V
D
R
instead of:
J
Q
K
And if that is not enough, the keyboard is not at all the same as the American keyboard. For instances the A is where the Q is.
The scarf / shawl thing...
Yes a French woman does do it best.
Even if it isn't tied at all.
They just got it, like Americans got big smiles. It is what it is and that is that.
Some Facts About France:
- Favorite sport: Soccer which is called football.
- Team sports are not played in school, nor are there cheerleaders, or school proms.
- Did you know that Cinderella, and Sleeping Beauty were penned by a French author?
- The Eiffel Tower is as tall as a seventy floor building. My brothers Zane and Mat climbed to the top when they came to visit me years ago when I lived in Paris. I didn't climb to the top that day as I was seven months pregnant with the ten pound cabbage.
Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa is owned by the French government and is said to be the most valuable painting in the world. It was bought by French King Francis I in 1519.
In France, the Mona Lisa is called La Joconde.
Did you know that the Mona Lisa painting hung in King Francis I's bathroom?
And did you know that Mona Lisa has no eyebrows? The reason she does not isn't because Leonardo forgot, or ran out of paint. It is because it was fashionable in Florence to shave your eyebrows off. Beats plunking them!
There are some 40,000 châteaux in France.
I want one.
Nîmes is the birthplace of blue jeans. The famous fabric was imported to California by Levi Strauss in order to make tough work trousers for gold diggers. Denim is another way of saying: “de Nîmes”.
The French consume wine with most meals. I would say never but instead I will say soft drinks are not had with dinner.
The end..... unless you have something you really want to know about France or the French. I'll try to answer your questions in the comment section.