Tag: France
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Inscription
Pierre explained that it was customary for guests to write their names on pieces of wood to mark their stash of bottles in Marco and Rod’s cave. So I’ve heard, I nodded. (A charming idea to ascribe such permanence to something so ephemeral.) But we cycled through so much wine that summer that it never… Read more
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Celebrating Happiness
It seems the entire population came out for the annual summer celebration of village life in Noyers. I took the little ones home around midnight and my eldest wandered in around 1:00am. Apparently there was still a crowd of people in the square until 3:00am, when they shifted to the local after-party. Getting together en… Read more
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The Beginning of All Things
Although Marco told me stories about his village, I tucked them away until I arrived in Noyers. Then I tugged on a thread and the people came tumbling out. * “Are you from New York?” I asked the young girl cycling towards me. I explained who I was and my train of thought. I told… Read more
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The Sounds of a House
I’m in bed and Husband’s downstairs making coffee when we hear a jangle of keys and the turning of the front door handle. A young man lets himself into the house and is startled to find it occupied. He hastily explains that a neighbour told him that the house was empty and it was okay… Read more
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French Architectural Eye Candy
There’s little point in snapping pics of Marco and Rod’s house here in Noyers-Sur-Serein, Burgundy, France when there’s a ShutterFly page crammed with great photos. Not a bad shack, I think. And here’s a sneak peek at the greater village. Read more
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Winging Away
I realized that it isn’t obvious I’m away for the summer. Husband and I have taken all the squids to France/Italy, returning in September. We spent five days in Paris, moved on to Normandy and have just arrived for an extended stay at my brother-in-law’s house in Noyers-sur-Serein. After, we’re off to see the rellies… Read more
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Driving Miss Crazy in Paris
I realize, on Saturday afternoon on the 6th level of the underground parking garage Gare du Nord Paris, that I haven’t driven a standard in three-and-a-half years. Read more