Happy Sunday everyone. With all the baking and running around and wrapping gifts and everything else that goes on as the clock to Christmas tick tocks away, I was notified of a repost of a little article I wrote for “FrenchEntree” last year at this time.
Quite honestly, I forgot about it—and when I reread it this morning, I was moved because it brought back memories…and so many beautiful ones. Here’s a copy of the link from Twitter. FrenchEntree’s site because I was unable to insert from Twitter!
https://www.frenchentree.com/featured-community-posts/memories-of-a-french-christmas/
Enjoy the read—it was like a little regifting from French Entrée! XOXOXO!!!
I’m in Paris. It’s evening and the snow is falling. I’m standing before the huge open window in the parlour of the apartment on the Rue des Grands Augustins. I’m gazing at the white lights twinkling on the Eiffel Tower in the distance and it’s a lovely picture. This picture is a memory of my last winter in France. In reality, the Christmas season has started and I’m sitting at home gazing out of my window at the twinkling lights on my lawn. It is the first snowfall of the season and I’m waxing nostalgic about my visits to France.
I miss my French morning routine of coffee, brioche or croissants with Vincent and Daniele to discuss daily plans. I miss the mundane: scurrying down Rue Dauphine in the early evening to grab fresh, crusty baguettes for dinner, only to immediately finish half of one because the scent and feel was too tempting to bear; mulling over which cheese to choose and having the fromagier let me sample enough for a meal. I even miss struggling in my extremely poor French to get my point across on any given topic, while earning the approval of my French neighbours because I simply tried. I miss sitting on my favourite bench in Place Dauphine, people watching for hours and scripting their life stories in my mind. I miss the spontaneous drives through Paris late at night, when traffic dies down and we have the streets to ourselves cruising aimlessly through the various arrondissements. I own that City of Lights and I miss doing everything and nothing!
In the south, I miss the cicadas, their chants and rhythmic cadence. And in the evening when that sound is blended with the deep baritone of frogs and toads, I miss the symphonic summer melody that lulls me into a deep slumber. I miss exploring the unknown little beaches scattered around the other side of Cannes and Antibes – our little secret places. I miss the boat ride from Sainte-Maxime to Saint-Tropez – the spray of salty water pinching my cheeks while the dock of St. Tropez becomes more visible and that feeling of excitement flows through me. The dry heat of the Côte d’Azur is always missed because it ensures me a great hair day! I miss the long, relaxed summer dinners on the terrace that Vincent and I treat as though each were our last, truly enjoying each other’s company.
Some may make a list for Santa or Father Christmas or Papa Noël of the gifts they wish for. I make a mental list of thanks for my memories in France, with hopes that there will continue to be more.
You’ve lived in France, how cool is that!
Oh Arpita. I only wish I lived in France. The apartment I write about is Bonaparte’s aunt’s apartment where we spent many, many years visiting and staying at for a while. I miss it terribly! XOXOXO!
Beautiful! And I so needed a bit of beauty today…
Hi Lori. I’m glad to have gifted you with a tiny bit of beauty! Have a fantastic Christmas! XOXOXOXOXO!!!
This is a beautiful and wonderful post. I felt like I was there experiencing it with you. Thank your for sharing this – I thoroughly enjoyed reading it. 🙂
Thanks Spear! I’m so happy you enjoyed!!!! XOXOXOXOXO!!!
Lovely!
Thank you! XOXOXO
Love the frat party simile, you sassy gal.
I had a hankering for a Moravian star for years. Finally found a rustic metal lit hanging star on Craigslist. When I got to the lady’s house to purchase it, it was approximately four times the size I thought it would be. It was MASSIVE! Never one to disappoint myself, I bought it anyway. I had to put the top down on the convertible in November in Minnesota, THAT is how big it is! On the way home, I had to break quickly to avoid a rabbit and it flew out of the backseat, poking me in the scalp and causing me to bleed profusely (thank God for tetanus shots.) I got home and hung it on my very tiny front porch where, every 3 to 4 months, I forget just how huge (and sharp) it is and cut my head open again. But I refuse to give that puppy up baby! That’s my Moravian star story and I’m stick in’ to it. When you’ve got to have one, you’ve just got to have one!
Did that make you a little sad to reread now that Daniele is gone and you’ll never stay in that lovely apartment again? Or did it feel more like a celebration of the memories, of all the times you spent with her? It was a lovely piece.
Ya knooowwww. Reading that little article from a year ago actually DID make me a bit sad. But in a really, really weird way. I realized that last year, I had no clue and it didn’t even enter into my mind that Daniele would be gone. It was really almost eerie to read those words. Bonaparte was very, very upset after he re-read that. He’s still really affected and I know that is going to take a lot of time for him to heal. But I’m always reminding him that we are incredibly lucky because we only have wonderful memories of her. Truly. Our memories of her are so incredibly beautiful that I guess in the longrun–we’ll be able to read that post next year as more of a celebration! I’m glad you commented because it really gave me food for thought. Thank you–and big hugs! XOXOXO!!!
{{{Catherine & Bonaparte}}} <3
XOXOXOXO!!!