Missing

photo: maira erlich

I dreamt in French the other night.  A few days later I heard a woman speaking French to her daughter {one of the cutest things in the world is hearing a child speak French}.  I asked "D'ou vennez vous?"  She was taken aback, then immediately pleased.  We spoke for a few minutes, flowing in and out of French, her little girl sept ans, the same age as my oldest.  It made me miss it.  French culture.  The beautiful language.  The cheese, which Julianne and I vowed to try a different one each grocery visit while we were in Paris 10(?!) years prior.  The cheese section in France is like the chip/snack section in America.  My French papa said, the BIGGER the smell, the better the cheese.  I'm not sure I agree, but it is disheartening to see the puny little selection we have here when there is a whole world of cheeses to be sampled, spread, crumbled, and melted.  J'adore la France. Un jour, n'est pas?

A Tale

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved to sew.  Always pins and needles on her bedside, she was at the ready for a moment's notice when something was in need of her nimble stitchery skills.  Her dreams were to have her own line of patterns, not to be famous, just simply to free her mind of ideas bumping into each other, and perhaps, as a positive by-product, provide pleasure to personages who participated in her passion.  This girl, until her dreams are concretified, was beyond happy to make a quite satisfying discovery called Oliver + S.  Mail day was a VERY good one.

{most certainly not}

THE END