Photograph of French Antique textiles by Corey Amaro
Several months ago Jeanne M. asked me if I would be interested talking to a group of women about living in France, and share my stories about the brocante. Without a moment of doubt I said yes. Jeanne M. organizes groups of twenty to come over to France. Their common interest is that they are quilters.
I reminded Jeanne M. that I do not quilt, or sew, nor darn, knit, cut fabric or thread a needle.
Though my Grandmother made a quilt for each of her grandchildren, which there are about fifty of us. The quilt my grandmother made me is made of wool coat scraps, she gave it to me when I came to France.
Also several months ago I gave several one week stays, to several blog readers of mine, to come stay in my home. The first couple arrives tomorrow. Which also happens to be the day that I am to give a talk at a local restaurant to Jeanne M.'s quliting group.
Several months ago I had no idea we would still be working on our apartment renovation in Paris.
French Husband and I come home a few days ago.
Sacha made sushi.
Chelsea shook hands with President Hollande.
Our friend Thierry is improving steadily.
Annie is well.
My brother Mathew still doesn't dig the brocante.
Four of my cousins celebrate a birthday today: Sacha's Budda Mere Julie, Rhonda, Natalie and Thea... and possibly a few more.
Why am I telling you all this? Blame it on blogging.
Actually, I should be cleaning my house, or ironing the sheets, or preparing tomorrow's talk, or setting up the apartment, or telling you about Sushi and about the hand shake...
Instead I am enjoying this moment to write to you about my next adventure.
Do you quilt?
Do you eat Sushi?
Have you ever shook hands with a President of a country before?