Last night around midnight I realized I hadn't had anything to eat that day, well I mean I had nibbled throughout the day as I was preparing for a picnic for Picnics in Provence, but I hadn't really had a meal, I was hungry. Barefoot with a fork in hand, I stood in front of the fridge as I twirled some pasta around my fork, tears rolled down my cheek. There I was
Barefoot with a fork in hand, I stood in front of the fridge as I twirled some pasta around my fork, tears rolled down my cheek. A bowl of pasta, leftovers, there was never leftovers when Sacha was home, especially when it came to pasta.
Funny how a bowl of pasta at midnight could make me miss my son.
"A la bonne franquette", which is a French expression that implies a simple gathering without fanfare.
I set up our dining room table outside as it is bigger than our garden table. Such a lovely gathering to meet Nikki and her friends from Australia.
A leisurely lunch, a tour around my new studio and goodbyes with promises to meet again.
As the world turns a million hellos and goodbyes are said,
Happy and sad tears shed,
With the desire that a new day will be around the bend.