endeavoring to live in rural France
Bonjour. Salut. Coucou. It is too late to say Bonne Année. But the thought is what counts. I have been so busy with multiple guest appearances on cooking shows, gardening programs, and working on my new book — The True Meaning of These Two Words: Rural France. My editor is hounding me for chapters 1 […]
Being a freshman in high school is nothing I try hard to remember. I’m sure I was chubby and pimples were scattered like seeds. I had bad crushes on Todd Newman and Paul LaValle, didn’t make the cheerleading team, and seriously struggled in mathematics and accounting. Being a freshman at Villanova University is nothing I […]
I am not showing you the Luxembourg Gardens, in Paris. So relax. I have not even been to them. Sometimes I think you kind people are waiting for such a post…where I photograph and go into detail about a cultural, artistic, or dining experience, here in France. But the way I see it is this: […]
I learned to ride in Sheffield, England. I rode Pixie, Dixie, Pepe, and Hector. Hector bucked me off. In Wilton, Connecticut, I rode Gunsmoke, Cinders, Appy, Danny, and Turok. I rode Turok over hill and dale, literally, with my friend Daisy. We would pile on, hit the road, and be gone for HOURS. Our parents […]
Those in the know are acutely aware that I have an entire wardrobe section devoted to stripes. Very French, you see. Yet more proof of the fact that living abroad, in France, was somewhere deep in my subconscious, for years. I favor the Breton look. Those striped shirts were originally a naval sailor’s uniform, designed […]
It is not as if I am living the high life, but I am truly pooped from all the jazzing around we do. Everyday it is something. Golf, coffee at Cherrylynne’s, a vide grenier, Mother’s Day on the river, a cook out at Rita and Allen’s, this brocante, that brocante, a trip to the doctor, […]
I did not know, when I moved to France, of a little village named Oradour-sur-Glane. I want to, for my ease of thinking and typing, to shorten this to OSG, but, that would be disrespectful. I usually write with a glib sense of humor, some tongue in cheek. I think I got this from my […]
Out of the blue, one day, a friend called and told me she knew the Executive Director of LongHouse Reserve, a stunning sculpture garden in East Hampton, NY, and that he needed some help. And she thought of me. Simply because she felt that the two of us would do well together. I was not […]
Painstakingly Renovated Not my words. But the actual tagline on a listing from a well known Immoblier. (eeeemobleeeaaay) A real estate company. I had spotted this property while still in the USA. I enquired and got a focused response from a lovely woman, the estate agent, Mimi. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. […]
THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS To start, I do not even like the name of a town called Fumel. It is ugly. It makes me think of vile fumes and smoking, since the verb ‘to smoke’ in french is fumer. I am also reminded of purchasing my first home, in Malvern, Pennsylvania. Like any […]