French la Vie

So Much Beauty in One Day

 

A Few Snaps of What we saw Today

 

When are you coming?

Preparing for the Next French la Vie

 

 

Preparing for the Next French la Vie

 

 

The Basilica of Saint Maximin

 

 

 

 

  Photos below via ...to see more click here.

 

The beautiful basilica Saint-Maximin. Over 700 years old. The monumental royal basilica was raised by the Charles 2nd d'Anjou in the honor of Mary Magdalene. It is one of very few French historical organs which miraculously survived the French revolution. We had the organ played during Chelsea's and Martin's wedding. The skull and bones of Mary Magdalene are in the crypt there is a glass dome said to contain the relic of her skull. The oldest church in France is the basilica of Saint-Pierre-aux-Nonnains in Metz. In Paris, the oldest church is the Church of Saint-Germain-des-Prés is built in the 6th century. In Provence the oldest church is in Aix is the Cathédrale Saint-Sauveur d'Aix-en-Provence. The cathedral is built on the site of the 1st-century Roman forum of Aix.

 

 

 

100 Year Old Cheese Company in My Hometown Willows

When I was a teenager I worked one summer at the Rumiano Cheese Company. Their cheese is excellent and the company has grown over the years. Their son Owen moved to France over a year ago to be with his French girlfriend. Imagine that two of us in France from the rural town of Willows.

Today the Rumiano Cheese Company was written up in the New York Times! I am so proud of them!

Below is the article from the New York Times:

 

 

"To hear Baird Rumiano tell it, the story of the Rumiano Cheese Company — which its executives say is the oldest family-owned cheese maker in California — is not simply about cheese.

It’s also a family tale, a story about a making your way in America. It’s a story shaped by war and, more recently, by whey (protein).

Recently, I wrote about how Musso & Frank, an iconic Hollywood restaurant, has managed to stay in business for a century in a rapidly transforming California. I wondered the same about Rumiano, which celebrated its 100th birthday late last month.

Today, the company has almost 200 employees at a manufacturing facility in Crescent City, a coastal town not far from the Oregon border, and at a distribution center in Willows, near Chico.

While the company sells many of its organic cheeses at specialty markets, you are perhaps most likely to have tasted Rumiano’s Cheddar in Annie's Organic Mac and Cheese.

Mr. Rumiano’s great-grandfather started the business not long after coming to California from Italy in the early 1900s.

It started out as a small operation, mostly distributing imports and making a dry Monterey Jack cheese for immigrants like themselves, who longed for Parmesan, which was scarce.

Then, during World War II, the Rumiano family got a government contract to make rations, and business boomed.

“They were supplying the armed forces with what we call American-style cheese,” Mr. Rumiano said, made by taking a natural cheese and remelting it with salt and other preservatives to make it shelf-stable.

After the war, demand decreased, and the factories that Rumiano had opened were whittled back down to two.

By the time Mr. Rumiano, along with his brother John, took over the business from the rest of their family in 1979, the business’s future was tenuous. Neither had much experience.

“We had the slide rule, and we just got to work calculating cash flows and all this other stuff,” he said, “and we decided that you know, I think we can do it.”

The company refocused on churning out fresh, natural cheeses, Mr. Rumiano said.

And its placement in Northern California’s dairy country — where cows can graze in emerald pastures for 300 days out of the year — gave it an advantage.

“My grandfather always said Crescent City had the finest milk of any place in the world,” Mr. Rumiano said.

That’s a big reason the company that had brought processed cheese to California was also among the first to hop aboard the organic foods train. About 70 percent of the company’s milk comes from organic dairy farms, it says, many of which have also been in business for generations.

Nevertheless, Nate Donnay, a dairy industry analyst with INTL FCStone Financial, said it was impressive for a midsize producer like Rumiano to have held out for as long as it has.

 

“There has been a tremendous change in the structure of supply and demand over the past 15 years,” he said, “much less the past 100.”

Cheese companies, he said, must contend with shifts in government policies, weather patterns, and consumer tastes. Over the past decade, higher costs of water and land have driven family dairy farms away from California.

Gigantic plants in the Midwest churn out more than 400 million pounds of cheese per year — the vast majority of the cheese that’s made in the U.S.

But Joe Baird, Rumiano’s chief executive, said the company was working to stay ahead.

In recent years, Rumiano has invested about $20 million in equipment at its factories to separate out whey protein concentrate and lactose.

That serves the dual purpose of decreasing waste and of creating a byproduct that is itself in rising demand.

The company now ships whey protein, for fitness shakes or baby formula, around the world, including to fast-growing Asian markets, where American organic certification is a “gold standard.”

Mr. Baird said that in spite of the growth in Asia and in Mexico, the company is still intent on deepening its presence in its home state.

 

“The brothers have this long view,” Mr. Baird said."

Article from the New York Times

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Bonjour Provence

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Provence is waiting for you, and so am I.

 

xxx

 

 

 

Brocanting Happily

A small town not far away from where I live had a brocante today. When we first arrived we were unfortunately greeted with vendors selling used clothing and toys which isn't bad if that is what you are looking for, but in our case, it was far from what we had expected. Nevertheless, part of brocanting is the hunt so off we trodded hoping to find our pot of gold. One thing is certain if you go to small-town French brocantes you will see plenty that you do not want, but when you do find something you want the reward will be the price. 

We left with armfuls and very pleased with our morning hunt.

 

Allison, Sarah, Deanna, and Sue hamming in up with not century-old pottery pots of

Olives, pickles, mustard, and honey.

I hope you will join me one day.

xxx

French la Vie

 

The beginning of the French la Vie Journey with Allison Wood Sue Comporato, Sarah Lammey Webb and Deanna Bailey. What a sign of friendship made when a group returns for a second time! We ended the evening at a local wine bar where Deanna, a wine expert led the wine through red white and rose. I hope you will join me one day for an unforgettable journey through Provence. Thank you, Deanna, for the photo please note all the glasses are empty does that mean I drank it all by myself? 

Second Time Around

 

 

 

 

Spent the afternoon with my friend Mo, one of the most creative generous souls I know.

The French la Vie Group wanted to see Mo again as they visited her the first time they came to Provence with me.

Imagine the connection to someone, their craft, the invitation to know Provence off the beaten track and to want to do it again.

One love feast after another, a constant circle of love.

When you come to see me, let's go see Mo who lives a few miles away.

To see more of her amazing black clay pottery glazed in white follow this link:

http://revesdargile.canalblog.com/

 

The Problem with Ribbons.

 

A blue-ribbon with hand-painted flowers. One of many in a trunk at the brocante.

What is it about lace, ribbons, bows... girl fluff? Why do these trunks, and there are many, make me stop and look? Given that I can't stand to cut into old textiles, I usually go home and add the girl fluff to a basket.

Oh, those darn big leather-covered wooden trunks with heavy locks and old labels, just tempt and tease, they seem to haunt:

"O...P...E...N - M..E!"  

And I do.

 

 

 

Maybe the main attraction is because I can put a ribbon anywhere. It isn't heavy and it does not take up any room.

French Husband shakes his head, "Then why do you like books? And chairs? And urns? And statues...

I put my hand over his mouth.

 

 

 

 

Laughing is a Good Medicine

If you want to hear Gabriel laughing out loud follow this link to my facebook account then scroll down a bit to see it.

https://www.facebook.com/corey.amaro

Perfect gift for Yann's Birthday xx

Random Thoughts

 

 

 

Today baby Gabriel laughed and laughed out loud for the first time.

 

 

Today is the eve of Yann's 57th birthday.

 

 

 

 

 

Today our friend was laid to rest.

 

 

This Thursday Chelsea and family head back to Paris after staying with us for two months, withdrawals I expect on my part.

 

 

 

This weekend starts the French la Vie Journey with Sarah, Sue, and Deanna. My good friend Allison is coming from the States to drive.

 

 

 

Chelsea, Gabriel, and I will be going back to Willows in November

 

 

 

Since July 2016 I haven't had a migraine, grateful every day.

 

Loving All the Way, It is the Only Way

 

 

 

Miracles do happen.

Prayers are answered.

Love does find a way.

And we are all in this together.

Life continues to continue.

Baby Love

What to do When You Come to France

            

Things to do when visiting France:

Buy a stack of postcards, and ask the baker, the waiter, the bus driver, the cafe owner, the lady with a poodle... to write a note for you to mail to your friends back home. In French of course.

Go to the open market, buy a baguette, some olives, a bottle of wine, some fruit and cheese. Have an impromptu picnic.

Dance on the streets.

When visiting Paris, take bus #69 from the Eiffel Tower until Pere Lachaise, and back. Every time the bus stops take a photo.

Go skinny dipping in the Mediterranean.

Collect the ordinary, the little treasures that often are disregarded.

Learn to say three words in French: MERCI-thank you, BONJOUR-hello, and OUI-yes.

Strike up a conversation...by asking for directions, even if you know your way around.

Take a paint set and paper, hike to the top of St Victorie and paint a homage to Cezanne.

Write a love letter and slip it under the mattress in a bedroom at Chateau de Chenonceau or your hotel room.

Record church bells.

Sign up for a cooking class. Or go to a grocery store and ask someone how they make a Tarte de tomate. 

Take a deck of cards and play card tricks at a cafe.

Find me at the brocante.

A Photograph of Chelsea as a Child

 

                                               In bed with a bowl of cereal. Her room was my dream room: Enchanted filled full of antiques. Then when she turned twelve she had a different idea, and it became her dream room equally sweet but without the antiques.

In this photograph, I see Gabriel with long hair when he will be four years old.

 

Want to Visit Provence?

 

 

If you come to Provence take time to be, time to let Provence get under your skin and into your heart. Provence is a place to wander aimlessly, to taste the countryside, to soak in the sounds and to follow your thoughts until they are just a mountain of softness and valleys of delight.

Provence is spread out like a quilt of many colors starting with the sky and everything between it and the blue sea, from the olive trees, vineyards, tiled roofs, confit pots, cigales, rosé, rows of lavender and stone walls.

Let me lead the way, come I will give you a key to open the source of sweetness that is Provence.

 

 

Opening hideaway places, and visiting private homes and artist's studios.

 

 

 

 

Discovering the history behind antiques, culture and the Provencal lifestyle.

 

 

 

With time to wander in places worthy to paint and write poetry about.

 

 

 

 

Sip Champagne in the middle of the afternoon while the cicadas sing you to dance.

 

 

 

Impromptu picnics, and moments to just be in the moment.

 

 

 

To go to as many brocantes as you would want, without worry about how to take your purchases home.

 

 

 

Meals with my friends, meals at restaurants and at my home, provided with as a feast of friendship.

 

 

 

 

To be inspired.

 

 

throughout every moment to be surrounded by happy places.

 

 

To allow you to feel home in a foreign land.

 

 

 

 

 

History connecting you to a never-ending story.

 

 

 

 

Under a tiled roof, comfy-cozy wonder goodness.

 

 

 

Transportation provided, I wish it were this, with a linen canopy and fluffy chunky floral pillows to soften the bumps. Transportation so you can enjoy the scenery without reading a map, nor missing a turn.

 

 

 

May Poppies,

June Lavender,

September Grapes,

October, pumpkins

Everyday beauty to discover.

My favorite time of the year, May for flowers, Winter for calm, June for a touch of summer, October for the markets...

The weekends for the brocantes.

 

 

 

 

The dates for the French la Vie 2020

 

Please join me on:

 

 

 

April 7th - 14th over Easter 2020 ... Three places remain

 

May 12th - 19th ... Two Places Remain

 

September 8th to the 15th... Two Place Remain

 

September 29th to October 6th... Four places remain

 

 

If these dates do not correspond with you I am open to adding another week to create a private tour

for you and or for two to three more friends of yours. 

 

***

 

Seven days, 3500 Euros includes everything

(transport, lodging, meals, drinks, excursions, adventure...) 

except for airfare, insurance, and personal purchases.

 

 

 

 

Please share.

And if you are in Provence just come by and say hi!

What Matters

love.

family.

friends.

and passion that stirs from head to toe.

A Calmness After a Storm

 

There is calmness after a storm,

A place where the ground is tender and can bare our footprints.

Where raindrops wait on petals, delicately.

The moment after a storm - still and silent, which holds its hand towards us.

The path is new, life's spirit is a silent dance partner asking us to follow.

The moment after a storm. Longing to see if the sun will break the darkness.

Thank you for your messages and generous outpouring of friendship and support. I will pass your messages on to Patrice's family who certainly needs courage and grace. They are stunned. 

If someone speaks of loneliness or seems to be depressed or simply lacking luster for life I am reminded to reach out, to extend myself, to meet the call, to give what I have received.

Spread kindness by being open to love. 

 

The Undercurrent

The unexpected ways of life. How can I say I understand it when it constantly surprises me?

One day we are celebrating two dear friend's marriage, the next day we are fortunate to be with Chelsea, Martin, and Baby at our friend's home and today we learn that our neighbor and a good friend had committed suicide. I cannot fathom how that can be. Before we left home for a vacation, a week ago to be exact, I saw our friend he was showing me the bronze goose head he put on his bike's handlebars were he could hide a key, and how he wallpapered his bike in flowers. He was constantly creating things, like his amazing pumpkin lasagna, or adding mirror around his window to bring in more light, or tearing down a wall to make the space bigger, I could talk to him from our window to his window. The last time I saw him, a week ago, we talked about baguettes and how the new boulangerie was. I had no idea that he was contemplating an end.

I wish I could go back in time to erase your pain, your doubts, your fears whatever demon that got inside your head and heart. I wish I could have known. Maybe I wasn't listening to the undercurrent in your voice? Was it there? Did I miss the sign? 

I feel sorry for your family.

I cannot imagine any of this, although it is true. How sad you must have been under that smile.

Godspeed dear Patrice.

 

 

Wedding Bells for Our Friends

Our friends Sylvie and Pierjean were married in Saint Laurent the oldest church in Marseille. It dates to the year 800 and was built on a Roman temple site. Saint Laurent is on the tip of the old port which gives a view on the boats coming and going the journey is promising. 

 

 

 

The reception followed at a Bastide outside of Aix.

 

 

 

 

They hired a very young chef  (22 years of age) and gave her free rein in planning the menu and dessert.

She had an idea to make a modern wedding cake.

DELICIOUS with fresh fruit and flowers, felt like I was taking a bite of the garden of Eden.

 

Marriage Bliss

 

 

 

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We returned to spend the last few days at our friend's Rodger and Arnelle's home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Friend Sylvie

Our friends Sylvie and PierreJean were married today. Happiness overflow. I posted some photos and videos on my Instagram account if you would like to see more follow me there.

We returned back to our home away from home, very late nearly 4 in the morning. But our friends are certainly still dancing under the moon!

The Gift of Silence

Rarely is silence truly heard. Quiet yes, where one can hear a distance car or white noise in the background. Utter silence where my other sense become more apparent that is silence. The gift of silence is the space it opens within us, anew room within ourselves to enter.

 

 

 

 

Our friends Arnelle and Rodger offered their amazing home to us for a "family moon" they called it. A gift to baby Gabriel, a time for our family to be together. Unfortunately, it did not work out when Sacha was here. We have simply enjoyed ever single minute together in their enchanting universe.

Today was the first day my wrist did not hurt. 

 

 

While sitting by the pool reading I heard an unfamiliar brief sound, it came from above but I couldn't imagine what it could be.

I looked around and saw nothing but blue skies, the olive trees, the last tiny blooms on the lavender plants and the stone walls. The sound came again, I saw two birds, was the sound of bird's wings? I couldn't believe that to be true. So I waited to hear again believing I was mistaken. Then two doves flew overhead and not only did I hear the same sound but I saw their wings flutter the same moment as I heard them.

The gift of silence is hearing sounds that rarely are heard within all the noise that deafens the song of nature.

 

 

 

 

Later as I took a walk down the lane along the stonewall, passed the fields of grapevines full of fruit nearly ready for harvest, with crickets singing I heard the wind rustling through the dry wildflowers.

Enchanting the simplicity of this moment, the gift so freely giving and so often not seen.

Need a Bookshelf Idea?

My friend Arnelle's bookshelf.

Very French.

Great ladder.

Repurposed.

B  R  A  V  O!

A New Place to Dream About

 

Our friends Arnelle and Rodger  (from San Francisco) have a stunning old home in France. They come here often and when we can we get together. This summer Chelsea and Martin were having a baby which meant our paths did not cross one another. Before Arnelle and Rodger left to go back to the States they offered us to take a mini vacation and to stay in their home in France. 

Chelsea, Martin, Yann, Gabriel and I are here...

I am never leaving.

I have loved their home since the very first time I came here, but now I am going to move in. Chelsea, Martin, and Yann are dreaming up schemes.

 

 

He is staying too.

Just don't tell his parents.

Old Photographs from the 1900s

 

His tilted hat and sailor shirt.

Somebody's great great grandfather.

How I would love such a photo of mine.

 

 

 

 

 

A few tattered notebook pages found in a box with some mix-matched trinkets. Photographs are plenty at the French brocantes so I shouldn't be surprised by them any more than seeing all the discarded antiques, but I am. Old photographs that were most likely stored and left upstairs in the attic or on the top of a closet shelf. Families come and go and with it, some things were left behind or were displaced after the war.

 

 

 

The pages contain various sizes of black and white photos of one family over several years in starting in 1907.

 

 

 

 

This photo feels like a painting. I love the shadows playing on the clothes.

Renoir!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A young woman in a beret runs behinds a horse-drawn carriage. A trunk sits on top of the carriage as someone leans out to say good-bye. The note below reads, "1906 Leaving for England."

 

 

 

 

Roses with a Bee

My hope was to take photos of what I found this week at the brocante. Though I ran out of daylight to take the photo of the item that I found.  Sometimes my good intentions become clouded by either my forgetfulness, over-planning or a diversion of the path actually I am rarely on a path, and my forgetfulness plays havoc on most of my best-laid plans. Daydreamers (or I should say someone like me,) tend to not only stop and smell the roses, they become the roses or in my case roses, a few thorns, with a bee in the middle.

Tomorrow we are going away for a few days on a much-needed break. Chelsea, Martin, and Baby are coming with us. Arnelle and her husband Rodger (blog readers) have graciously offered their beautiful home for us to stay in. My only regret is they won't be there.

xxx

What did you do Today?

 

Today was my first day back to the brocante since the end of June when there was a French la Vie.  

One-handed but I managed with Yann's help. Do you know that Yann started to help me at the brocante when I broke my wrist six years ago.

I found many fantastic things, but I saw much more than I could buy. 

What did you do today?

 

 

Roses Sent me Off

 

 

Rose petals are love notes from the other side.

 

They have to be as they are so simply lovely.

This morning before heading to the brocante I saw the roses outside my kitchen are in their second time this year.

 

 

 

 

 

Petal by petal.

Word for word... Love.

 

 

 

 

A pink Prince Charming.

 

 

 

Lovely graceful beautiful roses,

Thank you for blooming year after year outside my kitchen window.

 

xxx

Seeing Purpose in the Smallest Things

                                     

 

Seeing purpose in all things no matter how small, or undefined. Each small task, minuscule, insignificant seemingly unimportant

holds a reason for being.

The seed

the toiled dirt

the pollen

the spinning spool

the collected shell

The tool to carve the shell into a button

the needle

the stitch

the knot at the end

the hand the many hands that passed the button on to me.

 

Hand-sewn button on the backside of a 19th-century linen pillowcase.

Perfect harmony, and still intact. Whatever task I do, no matter how small, I want to give it my best.

 

Can I Post Baby Photos All Day Long?

 

 

 

 

 

Two Months Old Today

For the Love of Old Paper

 

Old papers carry stories, memories, personal messages that one day will be lost as we use less and less the written word.

What will be passed on will not be touchable. 

One of my fondest things to do when I go home to my Mother's house is to sit at her desk and pull out the Rolodex and see addresses and phone number written out in my Father's and Mother's hand.

I see them in their writing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A sampling of old wallpapers that I use to have.

Some I regret giving or selling.

 

 

 

Paper bundles. I started selling paper bundles because my addiction got carried away. 

I still make them on demand.

 

 

When I worked with Georgianne Lane for Victoria Magazine we went to my friend Odile's shop to do a photoshoot. 

Odile loves old paper and textiles too.

 

 

Epiphany King's Cake feves or tokens that are baked in the cake.

If ever you want some let me know. Plenty of different designs and shapes. 

 

 

 

I cannot help myself when it comes to old papers. 

It is what I am drawn to the most at the brocantes.

 

 

 

I found this example on Pinterest without a link to who it belongs to. But I see my walls slowly looking like this.

My mom can say I am a wall hoarder.

 

 

This type of tinted engravings I just eat up blame it on the romantic in me.

They are easy to find at the brocantes.

 

 

 

 

For years I have been searching for old playing cards like these. I have found plenty of playing cards, but not of this design. One day I will.

Sweet Summer Days

 

Sweet summer days consist of being with this Butterball.

Thank you for your many encouraging comments, thoughts, and prayers. I am appreciative of all of you. I hope I encourage you as much as you encourage me. My life is fuller because of this community gathered here. I have seen the power of friendship over and over through this little blog.

My wrist is better than yesterday, though I took less medication today and it hurt a bit more so I am not doing that again.

On a completely different note, I am letting my hair go white because I am curious to see what it looks like. It is a bit weird to see the roots, and I have doubts, and most likely I won't like it as much but I started, it has been several weeks so far. I hope I do not chicken out (sorry chickens I shouldn't reference you.) I hope I do not change my mind. But I have been known to change my mind even before I have made my mind up.

 

 

 

This is us

This is us.

After our friend's marriage at the church,

before the cocktails and hours before the dinner where we would dance until three in the morning and be one of the first people to leave.

While dancing I would miss Yann's hand on a move that we have done a hundred times before, which would send me sailing without a boat to a distant shore.

Now to wash my hair the tricky part of having one free hand. The humbling part of an illness or an accident or mishap is realizing how much I take for granted. How much I am thankful for the health I have and the care I received and the many notes you sent me! Thank you.

Little by little this will heal, I am fortunate xxx

Wrist Update

 

The very first thing I thought of was, “Oh no I won’t be able to hold Gabriel!”

At least it isn’t broken. Painful more than when I did break it over six years ago. Has anyone had this happen before?

 

about last night

During a beautiful wonderful wedding, Yann and I were dancing, on one of our moves we missed each other's hands and I went flying backward landing most painfully on my hands. After several hours in the emergency ward, I have sprained badly my wrist that I severely broke several years ago the pin and plate are still there and that is why the sprain is so bad.

more later when I can see straight.

A Sweet Dream of Annie

 

Last night Annie came to me in my dreams and held my hand.

Dreams have a way of healing us, I was sad yesterday after saying goodbye to Sacha.

Annie walked with me along the river I had my hand in hers, she talked about roses and how I should pick some from her old garden. She leaned into me as I put my arm around her she gave me three dried roses

Laughing I said, "Hey, remember you use to tell me this was not the moment to cut roses and plant them, let along dried ones?" 

She smiled,

"Life has a way of surviving you'll see."

 

Selfie with Gabriel

Aleady Time to Say Goodbye

 

Where did that month go? An entire month passed about in seconds. Sacha returns to Seattle on Friday, but he is heading for Paris tomorrow.

In fairness to time, I must say that a chunk of his time was spent in Italy. You see over a year ago he met a young woman on the family cruise we went on. She was on the cruise with her family too. The two of them met and kept in touch over the internet. Italian Girlfriend speaks English, Sacha is studying Italian. Sacha spent nearly two weeks with her and her family (homemade pasta) in Verona. Verona! Romeo and Juliette, maybe I will reference her as Juliette? No, I think the Italian Girlfriend is her name for now. They spent one week in France with us, well with us but not really. They spend most their time discovery Provence and one another... as it should be.

Sacha will be back soon. His heart is in Italy and Italy is closer than Seattle.

xxx

 

 

 

 

Beautiful Pieces from the 1700s and Older.

 

As I am at the brocante more often than not I come across many varied beautiful pieces, some I know the origin, the history and or purpose, some I do not. Usually, when I do not know about something, I look things up, read about them, or ask other antique dealers what they know. The vast amount of knowledge goes beyond "this is a book for the 1700s" it connects dots of history, culture, art and in the end day to day life of another period and time.

France is a rich soulful country. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Paperback books such as these are my utter downfall.

Better than purses, shoes, diamonds do I dare say food?

 

 

Faded tapestry.

Most likely if the colors were vivid as they once were I would not be as attraced. 

 

Paper old handwritten paper amazes me. That is survived. That someone's hand comes through the ages to my hand.

 

 

The other day I found a very small tinted engraving of the royal family. I was lucky enough to pay far less for it than what they usually go for, that is the advantage of going to a flea market. The disadvantage is that usually, one has to hit several fleamarkets to find one needle in the haystack. But when you find the needle the story is as good as any BIG FISH story.

 

 

 

If I found any of these pieces I would be as happy as a lark. Instead, I am happy to keep looking to find similar items. I found these images on the internet while trying to look up information on other pieces I have. 

The last photo is Louis 16th and Marie-Antoinette's wedding announcement.

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photos were taken from the internet, with keywords:

 

Cabinet of Curiosity

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life Unfolds

Being a kid in the country meant being free to do what I wanted to do pretty much all of the time. Unless I was at school or had chores to tend to. I grew up in a small rural town in California. Most people think of California as one long coastline with actors dotting the beaches and where everyone has a year-round tan. But California is more than that. It actually has farmland, my Father had a dairy farm and grew rice.

 

               

 

 

Surrounding my childhood home there were fields, a creek, a canal and a cemetery on the other side. Growing up we were told that having land mattered. If you had land you could live; with a patch of dirt, seeds, and water at least you would never starve. I felt safe knowing my Dad had land, that he knew how to farm and that my Mom knew how to cook. You see food and love went hand in hand. I had plenty of both.

 

 

               

 

 

As a child growing up on a farm I took for granted the freedom that the land had to offer. The wide space to run and play. I took for granted the daily lessons of nature. Most often I didn't realize the soothing sound of silence during the day. These natural parts of my day seemed unimportant until I went to the urban side of the world. Though the moment I went to live in the city where my feet touched concrete instead of the earth, where the sun and moon weren't visible at a glance but often peering between buildings and seasons were reduced to simple words such as it is too hot or too cold. I realized how lucky I was to have experienced dirt underneath my feet. The country became my "Emerald City." The lessons I gathered rose strong within me.

My French Husband grew up in Rennes a city in Northern France. His work is investing in urban dwellings, land called an urban jungle.

Far away are his city experiences, from my growing up in the country. 

When we first were married we lived in Paris for a few years, and as beautiful as it was, the moment my feet touched the dry earthy ground of Provence I knew then I could call France home. Of course, it helped to have my French Husband by my side, even if he wasn't a farmer...

If ever need be we could grow tomatoes in flower pots.

 

 

               

 

Isn't it funny how at times we can look back somehow somewhere see a connection, see a vague cosmic order? As if a string ties this to that, and makes us say,  "Isn't that funny..." and other times simply wonder how life unfolds?"

 

The Best Nap Ever

 

 

 

 

2020 Dates Set for the French La Vie

 

The dates for the French la Vie 2020

 

Please join me on:

 

 

 

April 7th - 14th over Easter 2020 ... Three places remain

 

May 12th - 19th ... Two places remain

 

September 8th to the 15th... Four places remain

 

September 29th to October 6th... Four places remain

 

If these dates do not correspond with you I am open to adding another week to create a private tour

for you and two to three more friends of yours. 

 

Hopefully, we can see each other next year,

 

Corey

 

A New Chapter in an Old Book

 

Worn, faded covers, tattered, spotted, aged, a page-turner in their day.

Eighteenth-century paper-back books gathered, what do they say? I have no idea... I bought them for their covers.

On the pages of my life, what is written? Do I like the story that is unfolding? Is the voice of the critic heard? Are there chapters I'd like to skip? Dog-eared pages? Notes on the side? Stories left untold? What is the title? Incomplete sentences waiting ...

Certainly becoming a Grandmother has added a new storyline and hopefully many chapters to come.

xxx

 

Hands Up

 

The first photo with my new camera a Lumnix 100 that I did not ask for and was very surprised by my family who gifted me with it. Sacha said that he was tired of seeing photos taken with my cell phone. The camera is super small and very light and will take me a while to figure it out. 

Gabriel's hand at Six weeks.

There in that little palm, I noticed a strain of Chelsea hair and fuzzies from his blanket.

Note to self: micro lens notices everything.

French la Vie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

soon I will post the dates for the 2020 French la Vie Journeys. 

If you are interested please send me an email. 

The Meaning of Stamps

 

 

Most of us will be familiar with the Language of Flowers. In Victorian times flowers were often sent to convey messages. Even today roses still represent love and white flowers, a sense of purity. However few will be aware of the Language of Stamps.

Many letters posted in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century had stamps affixed to envelopes and picture postcards in all sorts of odd positions and angles.

This was due to the development in England of a ‘language of stamps,’ which soon spread around the world. The position of the stamp on the envelope was supposed to relay a message to the receiver. I imagine that people who lived on the edge of Society found this a convenient way of expressing their feelings. I wonder, too, if spies or criminals had stamp languages of their own…

The problem of postmarking the stamps placed on various parts of the envelope finally became so great, that postal administrations of the world introduced regulations requiring the sender of mail to affix stamps in the upright corner of the envelope.

Collectors of postal history and picture postcards should be on the look-out for envelopes and postcards with stamps affixed in odd positions, as they could well form an interesting thematic/topical collection.

 

 

Note: Should PDb members have scans of such items in their collections, we should be pleased to publish them and include them with this article.

Here are some of the interpretations of the stamp language:

Stamp Positions & Meaning

Upside down, top left corner = I love you

Crosswise on top left corner = My heart is another’s

Centre of envelope, at top = Yes

Center of envelope, at bottom = No

Straight up and down, any position = Goodbye sweetheart

Upside down, top right corner = Write no more

At right angle, top right corner = Do you love me?

At right angle, top left corner = I hate you

Upright top right corner = I desire your friendship

Upright in line with surname = Accept my love

Upside down in line with surname = I am engaged

At right angle in line with the surname = I long to see you

Centred on right edge = Write immediately!

http://www.philatelicdatabase.com/nostalgia/the-language-of-stamps/