A church in Savona, Italy. In conflict and darkness, we must be the light that is not our own but the light beyond us. Continue reading

"Waste Not, Want Not is a proverb we have all heard as a child probably to encourage you to eat your dinner. The proverb means, if you use a commodity or resource carefully and without extravagance you will never be in need (Credit: Oxford Languages). This old saw has its origins from 1576 (The Paradise of Dainty Devices by Richard Edwardes." 1800s-old bistro glasses are still around and still beautiful. They are still providing. Why is that? They are fragile, but they are strong. I have had mine for over 20 years, and we use them daily. Water, juice, wine, flowers... they do not hold grudges. Strong puppies. How many washings and wars have they endured? Buy old - Recycle things by keeping them - using them - seek old things - they have proved they last. They keep on giving without taking anything. No extra resources are needed. No shareholder's profit margins. Vintage. Second hand. Salvation Army. Antiques. Garage sales. Your storage unit. Things are there to be used and reused. Do we need anything new? Bandaids, toilet paper, medicine, to name a few... Did you know you: In 2021, there were 14 billion cell phones; the average person changes their cell phone every two years Cell Phones 80 Billion Clothing produce a year... What happens to "throw away clothing?" Two billion Tee-Shirts per year?! "In early September, department store retailer Galeries Lafayette opened Le(Re)Store, a 500-square-metre permanent space dedicated entirely to circular fashion — in no less a location than its iconic Paris flagship on Boulevard Haussman." And other major department stores in Paris followed suit. Vintage, second-hand clothing stores are abundant in Paris. Stacks of antique linen. Dinner napkins, Bed sheets, Tableclothes, Dishtowels.. I use them. They are easy to find. I could go on and on about waste, and so could you. Recycle, re-use, remake. Yann saves all scraps of paper, especially envelopes. He used them as scratch and note paper. What can we do to change our wasteful habits? I buy old. But that is not enough. I have to do more. Please, share your habits to change the world's waste. Continue reading

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Standing with Yann, and my cousin Christine. Photo by Sacha. Continue reading

At the tip of the Ile de la Cite (an island in the center of Paris,) a Weeping Willow's long, tender branches caress the Seine as it splits and goes around her on either side. The Seine was dark and agitated that evening, glistening under the moon's light and steady drizzle. Bundled up, we walked with Julie's sister Christine under the Weeping Willow to the edge of the island to say goodbye to our cousin Julie, who died a short while ago. The Weeping Willow reminded me of the one we played under as children in her yard, that night as the branches danced around us, and the roots held us in place, memories of Julie swept by in the rush of the Seine, floating, circling, undercurrents of chocolate. We stood listening to her burning in our hearts, tears dropped and slide into the Seine. No words uttered as we sang in silence our love and sorrow, goodbye dear cousin. How do you say goodbye to someone alive in your heart and their voice echoing inside you? You don't. We learn to live with them differently as their energy soaks into you. It was a beautiful evening; Nature's fanfare was elegantly on display. Love tightly holding us. A shared sorrow, what a gift it is to be able to love and not be completely broken by it. Death is brutal to look at; it is hard to hold and harder yet when it comes and stares blankly, trying to scare or knock us off our footing. We needed closure as a family, to send her beyond us yet anchored within us, Julie was part of our lives. She is woven between us. She is part of our fiber. We raised her sail that night. We shared stories. Last conversation. Funny moments. We looked into each other's eyes and saw her with us. Continue reading

We know that children learn by repetition, in actions and words repeated over and over and over again. Especially in sing-song and in play. How often have you sung the same song, played the same game, or read the same book to a child in a day? I read "Click Clack Moo" so often last week that I know it by heart; at least it is a funny story (thanks, Barbara Blizzard, for sending it to Gabriel years ago when he was born). When observing children, we see them mimic our expressions, actions, words, emotions... Have you noticed that they hide in the same hiding spot when playing hide and seek? We played hide and seek the other day at the local park in Paris. The park is extensive, and nearly a hundred children play there every day after school. We gave boundaries to where we could hide. After hiding once or twice behind a tree, I hid by sitting on a bench. It took Gabriel a long time to find me. I told him sometimes something can be right in front of you, and we cannot see it because we do not expect it to be there. Then, children love to ask the famous question, "Why?" Have you ever counted how many times they say it? Or they will say, "Again." Repetition, the needed, Why? and Again! To hear our response, to hear our choice of words, to hear our feeling, to see our body language, to understand the meaning underneath the meaning, to hear reasoning, to hear... While playing with Olivia, I heard her repeating words in English. So delightful! I made a game by asking her the same questions throughout the day. As she is only two, she barely gave the answers in order, but she played joyously as children do. What's your name? Olivia, pronounced, so sweetly yet unrecognizable. How old are you? Two, and she would try to hold up two fingers. What is your favorite color? Blue. What do you like to eat? Pasta, Chocolate. What is your favorite animal? She would make the sound of a horse. But more often than not, she would answer most of the questions with her name and then say, "Encore." Children are geniuses. We were all of us when we were young. Sponges for knowledge, truth, love, goodness, and affection for our loved ones. Joyous and confident... Continue reading

Rain, sun, earth, seed, root, stem, flower, fallen petal... We are the same at different moments throughout time. We are the same. Flower and rain, Seed and root, Each on their own path, each with their own reality, their own story- Yet, we are the same. Continue reading

A covered walkway connecting the train station to a cafe, that has been converted into a dining area. Pink velvet chairs. One of the best milk chocolate, smooth, rich, and delicious. Decadent desserts. Dalloyau Saint Lazare train station in Paris. https://www.dalloyau.fr/nos-boutiques/11- Continue reading

You think I'm an ignorant savage And you've been so many places I guess it must be so But still I cannot see If the savage one is me How can there be so much that you don't know? You don't know ... You think you own whatever land you land on The Earth is just a dead thing you can claim But I know every rock and tree and creature Has a life, has a spirit, has a name You think the only people who are people Are the people who look and think like you But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger You'll learn things you never knew you never knew Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountains? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind? Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest Come taste the sunsweet berries of the Earth Come roll in all the riches all around you And for once, never wonder what they're worth The rainstorm and the river are my brothers The heron and the otter are my friends And we are all connected to each other In a circle, in a hoop that never ends How high does the sycamore grow? If you cut it down, then you'll never know And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon For whether we are white or copper skinned We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains We need to paint with all the colors of the wind You can own the Earth and still All you'll own is Earth until You can paint with all the colors of the wind Continue reading

Someone found my phone and took photos. That's a first. Children with next to no screen time figured out how to take photos. Impressive. Continue reading

"We must live with the story we have." A group of friends were talking about something that had happened that was difficult to understand and hard to accept. Some of us were baffled, others angry, and a few tried to see the bright side. At last, someone said, "We must live with the story we have." His words struck me as wise and faithful. I do not know how to explain it except to say it sounded like, "Do the best you can and let it take its course." At this point, or this chapter in the story, it is like trying to see the sun behind the clouds. Oh, those clouds do get in the way. Lack of harmony annoys me, like a pebble in one's shoe or a fly buzzing around the house, annoying. I want to take the pebble out and throw it at the buzzing fly. But what would that serve other than me? And it would not serve in the way of harmony. Reflection on a bronze urn. Everything was speaking, symbolically of healing, letting go, trust... Follow the light that leads, and focus on the golden reflection. How do you deal with a difficult situation? My mother would say, pray. Yann would say, focus on the right thing to do. I usually cry, followed by having to talk, and talk, and then I am able to pray and see the light- And, I feel the feeling; in other words, Live with the story emotionally. Yes, we must live with the story that is ours. Continue reading

In a world of use once, throw away, toss aside, and buy a new one this is a reminder that some things cannot be replaced. Let us hold true the awareness to value what we have. To be mindful of our unnecessary abundance, and learn to live with less as a healthier path to follow. Continue reading

As far back as anyone in my family can remember, my mom made turkey cutout sugar cookies for Thanksgiving. As I have mentioned on my blog many times, my brother Marty (may his soul rest in peace) would snap the heads off the turkey cookies before the Thanksgiving meal started, it became part of the family lore. My mother puts on the Thanksgiving meal. She is a creature of organization and getting things done; this year, as she is getting older and the dinner is as big as ever, she made the turkey cutout cookies in advance and froze them. In the freezer is a cookie tin with my mother's homemade cookies; it is never empty, and everyone knows the cookies are there for the taking. Two days ago, my brother Mat opened the freezer to snatch a cookie from the infamous tin, and in doing so, he knocked over a black tin that crashed to the floor. In the near distance, my mom asked, "What happened?" My brother replied that he had knocked over a black tin. My mother moaned, "Oh no, the Thanksgiving turkey cookies are in that tin." (This pile of broken bits of Turkey cookies is for my brother Mat.) Yesterday, she set the table, which she does with flare. She opened the black tin box to put a turkey cookie at each place. However, when she opened the black tin box, she saw the cookies cracked or shattered. She told me she wouldn't make any more of them as they are too time-consuming... “I am going to serve them as is... I think Marty had a hand in this. (Photos via my nieces Molly and Kate who helped my mom with Thanksgiving preparation.) Continue reading

Which one loves this art display more? Continue reading

Thirty years ago, this is how everybody dressed to go to the bakery. Nobody wore sneakers. Everybody wore high heels, and thank goodness that has changed. I liked how it looked but not how it felt. Cobblestones ruined plenty of heels. My outfit in Paris. Hunting style in the bakery. Du Pain et Des Idees 10eme Paris High heels are not necessary. Continue reading

Saint Martin Canal take a boat ride through the locks. The Bohemian side of Paris. Once, it was off the beaten track, but now it is well-traveled and deserved. An Enchanted Floral Shop. Ludovic is a street artist in Paris. His work is everywhere. Yesterday, I went on a peace march. A charming, one-of-a-kind, enchanting, original shop. One of my favorite bakeries! The newest trends are Vintage Clothing shops everywhere. Cafe Bistro It's worth it, especially for their ilse flottant! Cold, rainy, windy night, but a lovely dinner at Les Resistance Also yummy. Approved. Continue reading

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Thank you for your generous response to Chelsea's new adventure. She is looking forward to branching out towards something different and her own. If you haven't, please fill out the survey; it is private. French Rendezvous Chelsea's survey https://forms.gle/F1v7W5yRS8TYPzwSA In the meantime, I am in Paris, missing the sun of Provence and remembering the grey sky of Paris. Sacha is here, too, so it's a family affair. We are enjoying our time together, even in the rain. Continue reading

After years of working a corporate job, my daughter Chelsea has decided to launch a travel planning/advisory business for travelers coming to France. You can follow the new adventure on Instagram @yourfrench_rendezvous (Facebook page and her website, coming soon). This is the beginning of her new adventure, and she has asked me to ask if you can help her by completing a market study to adapt the services and pricing offered. Chelsea wants to ensure she creates something that makes sense and will be helpful. Here's the link to the survey. Can you please help her by answering it (the responses are private, and she cannot see who sent them.) Chelsea's French Rendez-Vous Survey: https://forms.gle/F1v7W5yRS8TYPzwSA As your personal travel planner, she will research and craft a personalized, unique itinerary for you, considering your interests and preferences. This ensures that your itinerary and the suggestions (accommodations, restaurants, activities..., etc.) will be one-of-a-kind and specifically designed for you, free from any constraints of pre-packaged tours or predetermined lists of activities. For the information and details, you will only have to click and book what she has collected for you. Chelsea plans to share her advice and experience in project management with individuals coming to France, be it for one day, a week, a month, or longer. If you need a restaurant for a special occasion, or if you want to explore lesser known areas in France, or be part of an art, yoga, or cooking classes, or find a place to throw a party, or where to go antiquing, or go wine tasting... whatever you need when you are in France let Chelsea guide you by answering your needs or desires. Chelsea will deliver the customized information to you in your own "hand booklet" and be available to help you when you are in France. Chelsea hopes to be your go-to person, even for minor details, like where to park, what about tipping, or culture differences to make your experience in France smoother. As most of you know, Chelsea was born in France and speaks flawless English and French. So if you have any questions, or ideas for her to share on her Instagram let her know. Contact email: [email protected] Continue reading

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A red circle- is it a stoplight? A street lamp- painted black, not able to shed light. What does it say to you? Continue reading

Dressed and happy to go outside Safely, an easy walk to the nearby park Where she can play at leisure, and then give happy goodbye kisses until tomorrow, There is a warm home to return to, with running water for a bath, to splash at leisure, and a dinner to feast on. One thing she has in common with children in Palestine, Ukraine, Yemen, Congo, Syria… Are parents who love (loved)…them. I will never understand why how this can be. Love and forgiveness lead us, all of us to peace. Continue reading

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Driving around the Italian countryside, our stomachs begged us to stop to dine somewhere. Given it was Sunday and way past lunchtime, I had doubts we would find anything open; this is Italy, for God's sake. At a few stops, we were greeted with a closed sign or someone to point us to a possibility on the other side of the mountain. An hour or so later, we drove up to Villa Inglese. The door was open, but the waiter told us they were closed. Looking at her watch and then at us, we got the subtle hint: we are not rule followers. But, after a polite conversation, with Laurie who never meets a stranger, the waiter told us a simple pasta could be made and a bottle of wine served. Little did we know that we had stumbled upon a Michelin-worthy restaurant that wasn't fussy or fancy. A simple pasta that is putting it lightly, a beet salad, cheese, homemade bread, and a deconstructed tarte Tatin in five bites but packed with flavor that each bite was worth ten. I would drive over that mountain again and again. But above all was the owner and chef Ben, a charming, easy laugh, fantastic storyteller, rich vocabulary, wine connoisseur, local folklore, and food enthusiast, he was the cherry on the cake! ... In his kitchen, not far away from his garden and local producers, Ben gathered these flavorful ingredients: Finely sliced beets, like shards of amethyst marinated in Red wine reduced to a shimmering syrup Chestnuts, cut as thin as parchment scrolls Pomegranate seeds, crimson gems glistening Roquefort sheep cheese crumbled like fallen meteorites Tiny cubed apples, a hinted sweetness Fresh beet greens and added surprise. Magic called a salad. Villa Inglese, Ben owner and chef. Continue reading

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