ma vie française: my french life
I've really been missing my français fridays...
I'm pining for Paris.
My friend Mel shares my love for toutes les choses françaises: all things french.
She brought her newest literary acquisition, all the way from vegas, to persuade me that moving the family to Saint-Rémy de Provence for a year or two really is a good idea.
Oui, I think I could do it.
This book is full of delicious photos and vibrant memories, historical and cultural tidbits, little snippets of sagacity in a rich, eloquent, yet chatty style.
It makes one want to lick the pages.
A weekend in Paris is like a tablespoon of elixir: it should be taken full strength and on a regular basis.
Food is an integral part of french life, to be shared and savoured.
Style takes time, the french have time.
A scent is more than a few dabs on the wrist and a brief squirt behind the ears: perfume is personal magic.
Nowhere else will you find the shrug of the shoulder, the tilt of the head and the little puff of air that regularly escapes a frenchman's mouth, or the formality of good wishes that introduce every conversation.
I miss the soft crunch of gravel in the Jardin des Tuileries and the formation of sharp box hedges at the Hôtel des Invalides.
*kate exhales longingly*
Ah, moi aussi: me too.