A taste of France would surely do me good. But since that is not going to happen anytime soon I will have to settle on emails, odd hour phone calls and photos stored on my laptop.... Though if my heart still is a fluttered I'm gonna go to a department store find the cologne section and drown myself with *Eau Sauvage de Dior Homme.
Photo: A croissant from the "good bakery" from the French village where I live.
*The only cologne French husband wears.
Faraway from where I am is a French family forgetting their English, forgoing their green vegetables, skipping out on mopping the floor, eating a ton of crepes, riding BMX, studying for exams, philosophizing over coffee and wondering when they are going to see their American mother again.
The French family sent me a photo of Mr. Crepe Boy lounging on a fixer-upper fainting chair. A fainting chair that a neighbor friend brought over for me to have. Isn't that way too nice; French friends who give you French antiques!
I love looking at Mr. Crepe Boy goofing off before going to school. Look at him eating crepes like a king, with milk in a wine glass, wearing slippers, socks and hey did he cut all his curls off!
Come to think about it did French husband cut his long hair off as well!
At first I thought French Husband took this photo while thinking of me. As if he leaned back with his arm outstretched smiling that "I-know-you-kind-of-smile," but now looking at this photo I think he is leaning back with his arms outstretched thinking, "I bet I could be bald and you would still dig me!"
The long and short of the French connection is that I miss them. Even more so because they are forgetting their English, forgoing their green vegetables, skipping out on mopping the floor, eating a ton of crepes, riding BMX, studying for exams, flying planes, philosophizing over coffee...
Pere Lachaise cemetery in Paris captivates the imagination. It takes you to a place deep within. Where stone statues, engraved words, and unlocked iron gates whisper names of people of the past.
It is a place where bouquets of flowers are left behind holding the thoughts of someone who has loved someone. Ah those fragrant petals that eventually dry and fall, soften the pathway for the next one who comes along.
A larger than life stone statue stands with her eyes closed recalling memories that will lead her home.
Layers of time past and present, a broken stained glass window renders a glimpse of the Virgin Mary holding Jesus. Though the images of their faces are no longer apparent a pure light continues to shine through caressing those who walk by.
"Mom, you won't believe what we have been eating since you aren't here cooking!" The tone in Sacha's voice sounded far too thrilled for me to be concerned. Nevertheless I responded with a doubtful voice, "I cannot imagine it to be anything spectacular given that you two knuckleheads don't cook. What are you eating these days?"
"Dad and I are on a white diet you might say."
With that I knew in a heartbeat that French cooking has been reduced to: Pasta, eggs, milk, baguettes, cheese, plain yogurt, garlic, rice, crepes, oatmeal....
Oh and don't forget peeled apples.
photo: 18th century French engraving.
Four sides to each cube represent four different puzzles in one. Each depicting a season in a moment of daily life.
Considering its age (1900s) and how many times in has been dumped out to be re-played, the images of each are in good shape, and amazingly there aren't any missing pieces.
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...At times like these every little thing reminds me, or connects me to the eternal question that has been asked for generation after generation, the endless search for... "what is life all about?"
Ah guess what?! Remember "The Matchmaking of Matthieu and Eva?"
Well, they are meeting up in France next week!
I am pea green envious... I wish I could be there to spy on their romance.
To think that they are going to see each other, nibble baguettes, sip wine, dance in the moonlight...etc. etc. and it is the etc. that gives this matchmaker's mind and imagination something "happy" to smile about! (I bet you are going to miss the installments too?)
Can any of you go to France and spy on them for me?
Eva...are you reading...SEND PHOTOS!
French Husband and the children, the little bit of France that has been with me while in California, leave for France on Sunday. It will feel strange to be here without them... In the twenty years that I have lived in France I have only been "home to California" twice without my family. Once was for my Father's 7Oth birthday and the other time was for my dear Aunt Frannie's funeral.
Before French Husband and I were married we knew we would reside in France...though I had no idea that we were going to live in France for the rest of our lives. The rest of my life! ...can you imagine such a change of pace? I honestly believed that we would live in France for a few years then return to California and live here for the rest of our lives.
When the reality dawned on me that the land of antiques and baguettes was going to be my home for a very very very long time I made French Husband promise me one thing- That we would "come home" to visit my family at least once a year. That promise has stayed true and firm.
That promise allows our children to know my family intimately, it also enabled them to experience two cultures, and if the real truth be known it gave me a strong shot of love American style.
When you live far from home, and I mean faraway from home you know there is always a good reason to go back to visit everyday. You soon realize that 22 hours is equal to a journey to the moon. You soon swallow the reality that just because you would love to watch your godchild make his first communion, or see one of your best friend marry, or celebrate your brother's 4Oth, or your brother's super cool Halloween party, or your first cousin's autumn get- together, or your 3Oth class reunion... you simply cannot come back for 95% of the collective memory making that will happen everyday forever. When you live faraway from home you will miss many things that connect you to who you are, and many more moments that will connect you to the collective unconsciousness of your family and friends. The reality of that knowledge can be a hard bite to swallow most of the time.
So when my father took ill, and the days turned into weeks and the weeks ahead have no end in sight- French Husband and I are facing a twist we knew might happen one day- I will stay in California and they will go back to France. The journey ahead is a beautiful mystery- I sure hope to have the courage and grace to walk it.
The Theme: A Mother/ Daughter moment.
The Stage: The daughter's (Chelsea) studio.
First Scene: The Coffee Machine
Daughter shows Mother her new coffee maker. Mother does not like coffee, but drinks it to be with daughter who does. Conversation full and delicious. Daughter tells Mother about the coffee machine.
Second Scene: Conversation and Coffee
Daughter: Tells Mother how she got the coffee machine and about the friend who gave it to her.
-Daughter chatters about the coffee machine, then comes back to original subject matter: "...Even though he doesn't drink coffee he knows I do and thought I would enjoy it. Isn't that sweet?"
Mother: Zeros in on one word and one word only: "He."
Scene Three:
Mother: Who is wide-eyed, curious, and with an agenda...wants to know about that one word..."He."
Mother's First Line: "I'll have one spoon of sugar please and (as the Mother stirs the sugar into her coffee,) ...is the friend who gave you the coffee machine a Boyfriend, or just a boy who is a friend?"
Daughter (who drinks her coffee straight black) says: A boy who is a friend.
Mother: Really?
Last Scene:
Daughter: Tells Mother that the boy and her are very best friends. How they study together. How he helps her since he is brilliant in Math, and that she helps him with his English.
Daughter continues deeper: "One evening while we were doing homework," she tells her Mother, "We both looked up at the same time, our faces were this close (daughter puts her face right up to her Mother's face...Mother wants to grab her daughter and kiss her like a baby and never let her go...but Mother resists and tries not to cry.) we leaned into kiss but pulled back instantly."
Mother surprised and gasps, "Why? Why didn't you kiss each other?"
Daughter: Explains to Mother that it would change everything and that they value their friendship too much to risk losing it over being boyfriend and girlfriend with each other.
Mother: Scratches head, though understands and drinks the coffee that isn't that bad after all.
Not far away from where I live is this big old abandon house. It has stone walls, frame less windows, a basement, and gigantic wooden support beams without a roof. Over the years I have watched it change like the seasons, weathering away slowly. It stands alone on a massive piece of wild property surrounded by vineyards and unruly oak trees. Certainly in its heyday the French owners knew how to live and work in such an isolated place. Today there is a highway that runs in front of it.
I don't know why it has been abandon... most likely it is due to to an inheritance feud which is common in France with real estate, or maybe the owners just don't care to do anything with it. Whatever the case I imagine many people have asked about it, hoping they could buy it and restore it into a French dream home.
I couldn't live in this house, I am too big of a chicken to live alone in the middle of nowhere. But that doesn't stop me from imagining what I could do with it, or how I would restore it. Though my imagination leans more towards what type of French antiques use to be in this house, and how I wish they were still there!
As this two hundred plus year old house is situated in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest town about 10 miles away, the people who lived there had to be self sufficient and mostly practical. The style of the house is called a "Maison de Maitre." Which does not correspond with other homes in the middle of nowhere. Which leads me to believe (or wishful thinking,) that the habitants where slightly romantic as well.
Provencal style this is the look:
Provencal style wine bottle drying rack. Every French home had one in the basement. After drinking a bottle of wine the bottle was rinsed and set on a rack to dry.
In a French country kitchen a set on cannisters would lined the mantle over the fireplace.
Provencal pottery without a doubt was in their home. Yellow was the most common color in French Provencal pottery, then green, blue and the rarest was white.
A ton of baskets were needed for storing potatoes, gathering vegetables in the garden, and storing the mending.
A trousseau of nightgowns, shirts and linens filled the closets.
A basin and pitcher would be needed in the bathroom.
Their lives would reflect post card scenes...red poppies, sunflowers, fields of lavender...
Of course without a doubt the door knocker would be one of my favorites, you know it would be!
A lantern would be lite in the evening only is company was expected to visit.
Would you like to see more of Provence style and my imagination? Or are you growing tired of antiques? Please do not say you are growing tired of antiques or when you come to France I will take you to Cafe Mc Donald's! Which is actually ten miles from this abandon house!
Photos: Classic Provence style around where I live.
For more information about where to swoon or buy French Antiques check these sites:
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Note:
I am off to peek into someone's home in Marseilles. A future magazine assignment...Isa is an antique dealer and one that I have admired for years. When I asked her if I could photograph her collection for a magazine she gladly said, "Oui bien sur!" (Yes, of course!) Tomorrow I'll add a few shots to show you a sneak peek! I am beyond excited to see what she has!
There is something about Eva and Mattieu that I forgot to tell you. A juicy tidbit that would make any girl's heart beat faster, and any man wondering why he didn't think of that! In the beginning of a relationship the name of the game is romance... the first look, the first steps, the first words and the re-living those moments until they are a permanent foundation under your feet. Memories to substain you when you are far from the one you love.
Do you remember that Mattieu left the day before Eva? That he waited until the last minute to leave, asking Eva to join him since her flight was the next evening? Though it was impossible for her to go with him, as she was going to visit a relative in Paris. (I thought that showed a good deal of character and respect on her part. I think I would have flung myself into his arms and never looked back...I am flaky like that.)
The two love birds said their goodbyes, promising to write and to visit one another in several weeks time. Mattieu left and the next day Eva went to Paris. Now here is the juicy tidbit I have waited to share with you...
The next day after work Mattieu decided to go to Paris (a few hours away,) and give Eva one last kiss. He sent her a text message on her cell phone saying, "I will be in Paris this evening, I have something for you. Tell me where we can meet?"
But Eva's cell phone had run out of batteries. She didn't receive Mattieu's message! Though she had the foresight to copy Mattieu's cell number before her phone went dead. Throughout the day she left him messages from pay phones and thought it a bit odd that when she called his answering machine would pick up instead of him.
Eva had copied Mattieu's number wrongly.
...ah the need for a match maker! Someone who's head is in the right place when hearts are a flutter!
Mattieu called me wondering if I had any news from Eva? Did I have another phone number where he could reach her? He had to return to the Air Force base otherwise he would meet her at the airport. I told him he must feel very disappointed, to think they were in the city of love... Paris (!) and yet so very far apart! He responded, "At least when Eva reads that I came to Paris to see her, she will know that I came for her... and that is a symbolic kiss she will hold true. I came to Paris knowing I might not be able to connect with her. Though what is important is that my actions will speak my feelings to her."
Heart throb, boom boom boom! I tell you those Frenchmen got something groovy going on don't they?
You know where this is headed don't you?! And you are wondering if at last Mattieu gave her that one last kiss in Paris? Well Dear Reader the answer is no, they didn't connect that evening. Eva did not receive the message until she got home and charged her cell phone. She couldn't believe what she read. Mattieu had hopped a train after work and went to Paris on a whim to give her one last kiss. She felt the symbolic kiss and it remains the strongest.
This is one of the memories that will create their foundation.
The other day Eva called and groaned, "Corey, why why why does this year have to be leap year? One extra day to wait just because it happens to be leap year!! Aargh!"
They will see each other again in March.
Happy Birthday Eva! May this year be the year of "Happy Ever After!""
