A Turn-Down Day and Back to St. Tropez!

Posted on July 12, 2017 by Catherine

Monday, June 26, 2017

Wow. I really slept like a baby last night.  When I woke up this morning, I noticed that the doors leading to the terrace were closed.  Bonaparte informed me that there was a huge storm last night. Thunder. Lightning.

I heard nothing.  The deep nights of sleep that I’m having here are the best in a long time. I do believe it is a winning combination of clean, healthy, non-polluted air and no stress!

Today also ended up being a “turn down” day. Just one of those days where you’re not doing much of anything.

Bonaparte likes those turn down days–he gets to spot the big cruise ships with his binoculars and complain about them–that’s very French you know!

We went to the pool in the morning and clouds rolled in.  We planned on taking a drive to Cabris, but with the clouds, we figured it wasn’t worth it.

We decided, instead to visit the Chateau la Napoule. We’ve been meaning to visit this lovely chateau and artist’s gallery for eight years and never got around to it.  It is less than five minutes from the apartment.

Behind the aquaduct is the Chateau. I got this pic from the website.  Eight years and we finally decided to visit and never made it inside!

We arrived and I was excited about finally visiting.  It was closed for an event.  *sigh* Next year.

So we went to Geant and purchased beverages instead!

Tchin Tchin!!!!

Tuesday, June 27th, 2017

We are headed back to St. Tropez today.  Bonaparte’s brother Francois is back in Paris and his brother Martin has arrived.  Martin will be here a few days before returning to Les Landes to set up for his latest art exhibit.  I’m excited because his partner, Mona, will be with him and we haven’t met her.  Dany has taken a turn for the worse so we will have to wear robes and rubber gloves to ward off any possible infection.

I thought it was Wednesday when i woke up and filmed this. It wasn’t. Do you ever lose track of the days when you are traveling?  Here’s an in-depth look at the apartment!

We will leave for St. Trop very early because the summer traffic has arrived and it’ll be an enjoyable time to stop at Rondini to pick up the sandals I purchased last week.  The custom fit is everything!

Here’s the Rondini sandals that had to be custom fit for my narrow foot. At least ONE part of my body is narrow!!

We’ll all have lunch before spending the remainder of the afternoon with Dany.  I hope he isn’t in too bad shape. He needs to get better!

Traffic was fine until we got to Ste. Maxime—from then on in it was a crawl. No big deal because the people watching was fun.

I finally wore makeup on my face!  And that green dress from Old Navy certainly had its share of wear!  It took seconds to do my “hair” because it’s fake!! Just like my tan!

We arrived in St. Tropez only to find that all three public parking lots were completely full!!  But—we did manage to find one of the last remaining spaces at Parking des Lices—just across the street from Dany’s residence.

 

How cool is this wine bottle sculpture?  It’s at a vineyard on the way to St. Tropez! See how much fun driving is?

The reason, we later discovered, that parking was so atrocious was that Tuesday is Market Day!  And people love the Place des Lices market.  I was shocked at just how momentous this market is.  Everything from food to furniture is sold.

And early we did arrive.  I picked up my sandals and we headed over to the market. Oh. My. God!  My only regret was the Bonaparte was with me. If he hadn’t, at least two more suitcases would have had to be purchased for all the stuff I would have bought.  (Note to self:  Make sure Bonaparte is off playing Boule or reading a book next time)

 

See the baskets?  Notice how inexpensive they are?  I should have replaced the one I have!

Vintage Louis. GENUINE!  I can’t even–I should have bought one. Next year!

The market was a buzzin’..

I dig these bowls…

and these signs. We purchased the one that reads “La Ponche”–that’s where Bonaparte spent his summers!

Pom Poms galore!

And more white shirts–one can never have too many white shirts. I know this.

Some Jimi

And some tres cool posters! It all makes for a fun time at the market!

We met Martin and Mona at what is now officially our local restaurant.  La Ramade!

Mona. Is. Fantastic!!  She is so cool and artsy and creative and I want to be her best friend forever.  Her hair is as black as coal and curly and she has the most genuine smile. We got along so well! She has a home in Morocco. And guess who was invited to stay there!!

The entry way to our favorite local hangout!

Isn’t this swan bench adorable?

The one–the only–the fabulous Mona!!!!! (PS–the lady behind her is sporting an Hermes bracelet. I couldn’t help staring!)

Again–I had my favorite Provencal dish–Rognons (kidneys)!

Morocco is on my bucket list. Big time.  I need to make the trip.  And it would be a spectacular time with Mona.

As we finished lunch and headed back to see Dany, we were warned that he was in extremely bad health.  When we arrived at his room, just outside the door, was a case with robes and gloves.  This wasn’t going to be a good thing.

Cute house on our walk back to see Dany.

When we entered the room, the scent from the other day still lingered. Only this time it was stronger.  On the floor was a machine that was systematically pumping air to a rhythm.  Air in. Air out. Wheeze.  Air in. Air out. Wheeze.

Dany wasn’t coherent.  He wasn’t speaking. His eyes were glazed over but I know he saw us. He had to.  At this point, his blanket wasn’t even covering the legs that were now useless. He was wearing a diaper.  I had never witnessed a sight like that in my life.

I kissed him and told Bonaparte, Martin, and Mona that I would be outside. Shortly after the head nurse stopped by to tell us that he would not get better. He stopped eating.  His body was giving out.

Mona stayed behind with Dany while Martin, Bonaparte and I went over to Dany’s museum, La Maison des Papillions, Musee Dany Lartigue.

I love this photograph of Martin and Bonaparte. I’m having a print made to send to him–we were on our way to Dany’s Musee..

It’s a lovely way to spend some time if you are in St. Tropez!

It was a well-needed visit to see the beauty that Dany has given to St. Tropez.  He’s collected butterflies his entire life—the collection, along with his paintings, is a sight to behold and is remarkably interesting!

Some butterflies–Dany curated everything!!

The musee used to be Bonaparte’s grandmother’s home.

Dany as a young boy..

And as a not-so-young boy!

Some of his paintings!

And a sketch from last year.

This time the visit had more meaning

By the time we left St. Tropez, Bonaparte was pretty much emotionally spent. Who could blame him?

My video tour of leaving St. Tropez

We sat down to a late dinner on the terrace and afterward watched a bit of TV.

Bonaparte—ever the channel surfer when it comes to French TV, stopped at a documentary about—St. Tropez!!!  Even more surprising was one of the main subjects of the show was none other than Dany!!!!!

Dany on the French TV–the documentary about St. Tropez was very educational and visually delightful!

Wow!  After seeing him in the worst of health earlier, it was a pleasure to see him the way we really see him. Scarf tied around his neck, looking charming and alert!

I’m glad B. got to see his dad in a better light—and I’m sure he’ll sleep well!

© 2017 Atypical60.com

Remember how I wrote about Monday being a “Turn Down” day?  Well, it made me think of the song from The Cyrkle. Remember them?  Here’s the song: “Turn Down Day”!

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Chagall and Marché-ing to the Beat of My Own Drum! I Made Videos For You!!!

Posted on July 11, 2017 by Catherine

Saturday, June 24th, 2017

Has it really been a week since we arrived?  Oh yes. It has.  Time goes way, way, way too fast when we are here.  I kind of wish it was the film “Groundhog Day” where each day repeats itself.

Uh oh. Today is cloudy. And—surprisingly humid. The humid days are few and far between but it happens.

We decided to spend this Saturday with an early trip to the Marché Forville to search for some fresh fruit and olive products.

No bathing suit for me today. I’m dressed for serious errand running and touring with my five buck shirt from Old Navy, white shorts and black Rondinis. I still have that pesky pimple on my chin!

We are also heading off to the Musée Marc Chagall.

No pool today.   No sireé!  Our plan is to get to Forville early, do some shopping, drop the goodies off at home then get back in the car and head to Nice.

Our drive to Forville early proved to be a smart move—the beaches along the Bord du Mer aren’t crowded before 11 AM. It isn’t the peak of the season yet, but the crowds will be here even with the clouds!

I don’t quite know what it is, but this market makes me really excited!  Believe me, the local farmer’s markets at home are fine—but not spectacular.  This market is spectacular in every essence of the word.  The colors of the product—vibrant and alive.  Everything is ripe—and sold as it should be.  Strawberries aren’t white in the middle. Melons aren’t watery when you cut into them.

If I did this correctly, you’ll be able to see little videos I did!

My Olive Man!  Every year we stop at this vendor to load up on the best tapenade of all time. All time! 

When I’m here, I want to make salad. Does that ever happen to you?  I mean, I’m not that crazy about making salads at home in the States, it’s such a chore.  But here, the produce is just so perfect that I could be very content living on salads.

Please don’t be upset with me for all these food pics but I couldn’t help it. Instead of eating healthy, I just snap pics of veg!

And everything is displayed so nicely!!!!

We bought a ton of fruit from this guy. The apricots were the best I’ve ever had!

Olive these guys!

I wish I was a mermaid so I could eat all this and float away instead of sinking to the bottom of the ocean!

I could have shucked these oysters with my fake nails!!

Pate and foie gras. Yum!

I almost motorboated this nougat!

Peonies!!!!!!!  My favorite flower!

A bouquet for you my friend!

Free parking for the first hour–what’s not to love about this place?

And after the marche, we decided to walk across the street to Ernest–a great caterer who also makes wonderful desserts!

This place gets mobbed!

Look at those delights!  Those little birds were calling for me to eat them!

Proof that good things come in small packages!

Not so much for Bonaparte though.

We dropped our goods off at the apartment and headed to Nice to the Chagall museum.  Funny thing. We got lost in Nice!  The good thing is that we got to drive around and admire some very Belle Époque architecture.

This video is epic. Move over Sophia Coppola. You’ve met your match! My commentary is epic–but this was filmed on the way BACK from the museum!

The dreadful thing is that time is of the essence when it comes to parking spaces.  Luckily, I ran into a hotel to ask for directions and a very nice, very handsome and very French older man offered to drive me to the Chagall museum.   When I told him I was with my very own Frenchman, he took in in stride, told me my man was very lucky and proceeded to write down specifics.

Some beautiful entrances to buildings.

Socca Chips–I got hooked on these chickpea snacks to the point where I HAD to have bags of them.  Many bags of them! They are on my hips now!

And in no time, we were at the museum!

Chagall is one of the few modern artists I adore–his paintings make me very happy. Have a look….

 

I love his use of color too.

Some sculpture.

 

A film about Chagall.

And we were off..

And after a nice dinner on the terrace, we retired, turned the TV on and had the immense pleasure of watching “Les Vielles Canailles” translated into “The Old Rascals”.  This was a televised concert that Johnny Hallyday, Eddy Mitchell and Jacques Dutronc are currently on tour with.

And might I add, these “rascals” are still full of energy!

These three old rascals still sound mighty fine! And the stadium was filled to capacity. Old and young together singing along.  Man, I would have loved to have been there—but it was just as good to see it from the setting we were in—a cozy bed, doors to the terrace opened and the night air hitting our faces.

It was a fantastic way to fall into a dreamy slumber.

Sunday, June 25th

6:15 AM. There are some clouds dotting the sky, but they will be gone within the hour.  It’s going to be a lazy day today.

We’ll head to the pool, I’ll get some reading and writing done and sit under the parasol. Yesterday was a busy one and this Sunday will be our day of rest!

Vincent is a regular Le Marc Spitz!

We arrived at the pool at 9AM and it was the first time I’ve ever witnessed the place not quite ready.  The crews were working like racing Greyhounds to clean up after the big wedding reception that was held here.  It must have been some bash!

My knowledge of the French language must be improving because I pointed out to one of the cleaners that there was a bit of broken glass at one end. We both exchanged a few drôle remarks about the wild party and I received our matelas and parasol without asking!

It’s funny because the weather report called for clouds but here on the coast the sun wasshining and it was hot!!!

While Bonapart swam, and after my film making, I needed a rest!

The lady selling bathing suits at the pool hasn’t been here. I miss her. I miss her sashaying around the pool in the swim apparel.  I miss her tan.  I miss her little booth. I’m sad because I hope she comes back!  I planned to buy a suit from her this year—then I discovered the 11-euro bikinis at the hypermarche instead!

See how quiet it is on a Sunday morning?

The wind picked up during the afternoon. A lot!!  To the point that someone got hurt by a flying parasol and we had to close them.

Never fear.  I’ve had enough shade for the day anyway!

Guess what store is now opened on Sunday?  Yeah –we went back!!

And yes. I did buy the little ceramic cicada. Bonaparte still needs to hang it on the wall.

 

© 2017 Atypical60.com

 

No music video today.  I figured you would all be very overwhelmed emotionally with my videos!!

 

 

 

 

 

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Oh, Marseille Can You See That Aix Marks the Spot!

Posted on July 9, 2017 by Catherine

Oy. I can’t believe it’s Thursday already.  I also cannot believe that with all the sunscreen slathered upon my body, and sitting under the parasol, I still managed to get a burn. *OUCH*!!!

We will head back to St. Trop to visit B’s dad, Dany.  His progress isn’t happening.  When we last saw him, it seemed that he was on the road to improvement but from what we’ve heard, the progress isn’t there.

The sun is shining down during this wonderful Canicule but the sky is lined with big fluffy clouds. Clouds that look as though Honoré Fragonard painted them himself.

I was admiring the laundry hanging outside. Washing clothes is a pleasure.  I don’t know what it is but our clothing gets much cleaner and brighter here—there is something in the detergent that really really gets all the dirt and grime out.  Listen to me!!  Can you believe it??? Here I am, in France, on vacation and I’m getting excited over laundry!!!

I know. I know. Some of you may think I’m strange due to the fact this is vacation time. But laundry–especially doing laundry and letting it air dry is such a complete pleasure for me..

This sight of this fills me with joy and happiness! Especially since I abhor fabric softener and love my cloths crispy!  Paradise!

Coffee on the terrace, the scent of Jasmine fills the air and we discuss our plans for today.

We’ll head to the pool in the morning and to see Dany in the afternoon.

Bonaparte deep thinking the jump into the deep, cool pool. My feet are firmly placed underneath the parasol!

The water in the pool is cool—not freezing.  The heat of the sun works like a solar panel to raise the water’s temperature.  The parasol gives me shade enough to finish book number two and I head into the cool of the pool.

Book number two placed into my tote and away we go!

Back to the apartment to change and we are off to see Dany.

Today’s look–white shorts, a checkered, off-the-shoulder shirt (no bra either. its such a pleasure), a new bobbed wig–Millie by Bobbi Boss. I dig this bob. And we are ready to head off to St. Trop. I did not venture out barefoot!

The drive along the Bord du Mer and 559 is a relaxing and picturesque one.  The summer residents, their privileged six weeks of vacation, haven’t arrived yet and the homes are boarded up.  Gardeners tend to the lush flora and crews are out prepping the villas and homes for the return of the inhabitants.

An aquaduct along the route..

..of the Bord du Mer..

Each village brings a new little out-of-the-way beach!

..and the sights offer more than the sea!

Campgrounds are not yet full—which, when it comes to traffic, is a pleasant surprise as the campers can make traffic awful and slow.

We head into Ste. Maxime to park the car and get on the bateau to ferry us to the port at St. Tropez. We missed the 3:00 ferry by minutes and have time to wait—but the activity of people watching makes this time fly by.

Port at Ste. Maxime–it’s such a clean place!

Hmmm, can I hitch a ride on one of these boats?

The line convines as people begin to wait to get to St. Tropez

A group of older Brits is waiting ahead of us. All the women have the same blunt bob hairstyle.  They look very proper in their pragmatic attire of sun dresses and heavily-soled sandals.  One of the women loudly announces that she has to “go to the loo”.  The group laughs and one of the men yell after her to “not get lost”.   They all laugh.  It’s nice to see people enjoying themselves!

Our boat arrives and we take a seat inside the cabin to get shade from the beating sun. A woman sits in front of me. From the back, I’m obsessed with her perfectly coiffed bob. Her hair is thick. I’m jealous because I once had a thick head of hair like hers. I touch my wig—it’ll do!

We get closer to the port and I never tire of the site.  The lighting is perfect.  The view spectacular!

The port remains the same year after year but still stays beautiful in all its yellow splendor!

The yellow buildings change hue with the position of the sun. Today it is a soft, buttery yellow that is making me hungry.

We disembark to empty streets. The tar is hot and bubbly and the heat has made the wealthy owners and renters of the yachts lining the port to hide in the comfort of the cabins rather than to sit outside on display—as if to say, “Look at me”.  “Don’t hate me because I’m wealthy and you’re not”!

The streets are pretty empty, which is a rarity at this time of year..

An officer makes watch…

It’s even too hot for the inhabitants of the yachts to be outside!

We head off to see Dany

We make it to Dany’s residence.  The air-conditioning isn’t as strong as in the States, but does offer a coolness that is appreciated.  The hallway has an odor—I can’t quite place it. It isn’t pleasant but isn’t unpleasant either. It is what it is.

Dany’s door is opened and today he is wearing a bright red and white striped Breton shirt. His arms are discolored and spindly. He stares at nothing.  His mind is sharp—you can tell, but he’s in and out of some sort of ethereal animation.

The staff comes in to check on him. They are pleasant and helpful.

Visitors arrive. A couple who collects his paintings are here to check in on him. Maurice and Hélène.  We exchange introductions in French and Bonaparte and I leave the three friends alone.

It is around 5:30 PM. We must leave because the staff is getting ready to change and feed Dany. I feel bad leaving. He’s not doing well.

As we make our exit, I wish that Fragonard would supply the residence with a ton of fragrance to rid of the unusual odor in the hallway.

NOTE: I’m sorry but I stopped writing for the day because I was just a bit bummed. But I did get to enjoy my Breton Cidre while Bonaparte had some hearty red wine!

Red wine for Bonaparte and Cidre for me was a well-needed aperitif!

Friday, June 23rd

We woke up to clouds on the horizon.  I was thinking that today would be a momentous day to head into Marseille and before I could suggest this to Bonaparte, he announced what I was thinking.

Our little road trip will consist of visiting Bonaparte’s mother’s tiny home in Ensues, a visit to Marseille and finished with a stop in Aix.

We will be doing a lot of walking today, so I’ll opt for pragmatic sneakers, shorts and a white tee–and bobbed hair, of course!

Ensues is a small town just outside of Marseille.  B’s mother had a tiny and charming home there when she worked in Marseille—just before she became ill. Her behavior was beginning to change at this point and nobody was aware of what was to come.  We stayed in the house for a few days back in 2007. I immediately fell in love with it.

This is the house that Bonaparte’s mother lived in during her time working in Marseille.  I have very nice memories of this place!

Another view. Look at the terrace above. It covered an enormous area.

The front of the house overlooked the other homes on the way down to the calanque.

Lots of flowers and fig trees surrounded the property.

Evie’s little house is now Villa Isis–and you can rent it.  It’s charming but I wish it was still in Bonaparte’s family.

We leave the little street and head down to the calanque.

It overlooks a calanque complete with a small port for housing fishing boats.

The port at the calanque across from the house Bonaparte’s mother owned.

The house was sold when Evie became very ill. Now it is a B & B of sorts.

We walked down to the calanque and Bonaparte told me about the times he and his relatives would spend swimming and enjoying a bite to eat at the small restaurant that is no longer there.

Some views from the calanque…

Rocks, crystal clear water and a rickety little footbridge. What could be more rustic?

Succulents growing randomly within the crevices of the rocks…

Hidden little pools….

What’s going on here?  A commercial?  TV show? Movie. My curiosity is aroused but the land is too rocky for me to advance any further!

So back to the port we go!

We bid farewell…

…and pass a fairy-tale cottage with my favorite number, 16, as its address!

Not one to linger in the past, Bonaparte bid adieu and we headed off to Marseille.

Marseille is a cool city—the Port is ridiculously large. I’ve never EVER seen a port so huge!!  We drove around, parked the car and enjoyed walking and people watching.

The port at Marseille is crazy-huge…

..with lots of action..

..and what seems like millions of boats..

Bonaparte’s mother, Evie, was in charge of public relations for this theatre before she became ill and still had her mind…

Street style is pretty much the same world-wide with young people!

The buildings are beautiful.

The Ferris Wheel at the end of the port.

Boats

Boats.

And more boats!

Proof that not all French women can wear heels all day!  Let me tell you, the ground was hot–I don’t know how she did it!

Don’t think for one minute that we didn’t stop to do some serious people watching. As you can see, the dress vibe is casual. Look at the older couple in the middle–they were so adorable!

There’s my girl again–carrying her shoes!!

Back in the car we drive down a shaded street as we make our exit..

Notre-Dame de la Garde bids us a safe trip!

Next stop:  Aix!

An upcoming fete prevented us from having access to quite a few streets…

It was getting a bit late and a couple of the streets were closed due to an upcoming Fete.  So, we walked around a bit.  You don’t have to be in Paris to perfect the art of being a Flâneur or Flâneuse!

It was the second night of the festival.  Aix marks the spot!

These guys were keeping watch!

Alas, we were able to wander around..

Detail from the photo above.  I love the praying saint!

I almost died when I saw this elf shop!  The prices are so much higher. I do believe in Aix, elf cosmetics are treated more high-end then at home. I’ll stick to purchasing this brand at Target and Walmart!

We stopped at a church so that I could give a few prayers of thanks…

And who should I see but my bestie, Saint Rita!!  I immediately lit a candle!

An “Aix-cellent” visit to church!

A cute little girly soap shop….

 

More wandering the streets!

A bit of shade

Another beautiful French building…

Au Revior to Aix.  

By the time we arrived home, we were more than ready for a refreshing aperitif and dinner.

A delicious and healthy salad. My diet really DOES start tomorrow!!

We shall see what tomorrow brings!

In the meantime, here’s a song that was playing on Nostalgie radio quite often. “Lola” by Renaud. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

 

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L’Estagnol – the Return to The Greatest Little Beach And a Bit About The Longest Day!

Posted on July 6, 2017 by Catherine

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Yet another bright and sunny day. It’s almost overwhelming to me because I’m just not used to this much sunshine in the Northeast of the USA!  The Canicule is hanging around for a few days so today’s beach day will be quite welcomed!

L’Estagnol. The grooviest plage I know!

Our plan is to head off to L’Estagnol as early as possible.  Bonaparte always gets very sentimental when we visit this beach—it’s where he spent many happy summers of his childhood and youth.

The beach itself is a small inlet of the Mediterranean—almost a bay. And the water is calm and you can walk out into the water for what seems like forever and still not reach the “deep” end.

Early in the morning the beach gets some good shade!

The beach is narrow and the trees behind the sand make for good morning shade.

Not a cloud in the sky. Not a drop of humidity and we are off!

Me in my “pricey” Target bikini!  My hair is piled atop my head in a messy top knot and..away..we…go!

Our routine stays the same each year.  We stop at McDonald’s for coffee. OK. I have coffee while Bonaparte has coffee and croissant.  I take the free Wi-Fi with my coffee instead of the morning pastry.

Breakfast at McDo!  Look at those goodies. For me, this is a McDon’t!

The virgin drive for the year is also quite routine. We make the same wrong turn at precisely the same corner. Every year. We end up in the same spot—a small yacht club. Never fails!

It all ends well, though, as we correct our route and end up at the entrance to the beach’s park within minutes of our error.

L’Estagnol early in the AM is my favorite time to be there. The beach isn’t yet crowded and the sound of the cicadas isn’t drowned by the din of human voices.  The water is peaceful and cool.

See how far the people are?  And the boats are so close!

Let me just go to sleep right now. Look how calm the water is!

Out of sequence, but here’s our arrival.

There is a sense of freedom as my bathing suit top comes off so that Bonaparte can put sunscreen on my back without missing any spots.  But I haven’t had a good skin check yet so the top goes back on.

Bonaparte wanders off into the trees to take pictures but I’m too clumsy to climb on the rocks.  I can barely balance with two feet on flat ground.

Some of the Lartigue photography talent going on here..

..and here

..and here…

..and here!

Uh oh!  A group of schoolchildren just arrived. Good thing Bonaparte isn’t here or he’ll get his French on and start complaining to kingdom come.  I move our stuff, hoping he doesn’t notice when he returns.

I’m so annoyed. Not at the children but at the fact I took videos with my phone and can’t post them. This damned laptop! Anyway, that adorable group of enfants almost gave Bonaparte a stroke!

The ice cream man.  I wanted to but didn’t!

I lie down for a while and it feels heavenly to close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun.  Le Soleil Donne!  The Sun Gives! With my eyes closed, I drift off into another place. The sound of the sea gently breaking at the shoreline. The cicadas are still chanting away.  The sailboats in the near distance rocking from side to side.  This is what makes life beautiful.

My little corner of the world over here

That spray tan didn’t last very long on my feet, I’ll tell ya!  

My feeble attempt at an artsy photo.

I turn on my stomach and open the book I’ve been reading. I’m almost finished. It’s a funny book by Clinton Kelly and I plan on leaving it at the apartment for others who may enjoy it as much as I have.

Bonaparte returns. He isn’t too thrilled because of the large group of children who have been here.  I told him I moved our stuff but he wants to move it even farther away.  I shrug and sigh.  The beach is crowding where are we gonna go?

A family of four sits down in front of us. Bonaparte starts mumbling in French something about them purposely sitting too close to us.  The mother is tall, blonde and attractive and not of the pencil-thin body. She’s normal. I want to be her best friend! Her husband looks strong and is not of the slight French man.  I’ll bet he’s a chef. He looks well-fed. Their two young sons are not only adorable, but they are incredibly polite.

This family was great. They really were enjoying their time well spent!

One son throws a huge rubber ball and it hits my feet. Hey, I’ve had three kids. It doesn’t bother me. But the young boy apologizes profusely. He must have heard Bonaparte complaining.  I smile and tell him, in my best French that it’s ok.

I go into the water and boy; does it feel great!!  The waves are so tiny and small and I walk out what feels like half a mile and I’m enjoying this time of cooling off.

Let’s get in that water!

Look where the boats are and look where the people are!  Is this not heaven on earth?

More beach fun!

As I make my way back to shore, the family in front of us is eating lunch. For a moment, I had a feeling of emptiness. I was brought back in time when my children were that age and they are grown up now. All I have are memories—but good ones.  My empty feeling leaves when Bonaparte comes over to me and sits next to me.  I feel comfortable now.

The remainder of our day at L’Estagnol was spent swimming, sunning, applying sunscreen on moi and people watching.

 

You know, everyone has this mental image of the French beaches filled with Bardot look-alikes and men who could pass for Alain Delon’s twin.  Not true.  Most peeps are pretty normal looking.  All sizes and shapes. And that’s a good thing!

We pass a vineyard on the way out.

We stopped at a produce stand on the way home. The stand is in Collobrières and has the greatest strawberries of all time. YES. Of. All. Time!  They were great last year, when we discovered this stand and are even more incredible this year.  I swear I cried when I bit into one of the tomatoes—it was that fresh and flavorful.

Look at all this wonderful fruit!

Bonaparte was grabbing those melons with the wonder of a teenaged boy going after a different kind of melon!

I cannot tell a lie. These were the best strawberries I’ve ever had. No white insides at all. Pure strawberry!

Bonaparte gave the woman running the stand carte-blanche to pick the produce for us and boy did she pick winners.  I need to stop because I’m getting hungry.

We stopped in St. Raphael to pay our respect to the fallen Americans during WWII at a Memorial.  It always feels good to thank the many troops who gave up their lives for us.

At the memorial in St. Raphael. This is in honor of Henry Kent Hewitt, from New Jersey

It’s hard these days to be a proud American–given who was elected. But memorials such as this give me faith that one day our country will return to her greatness when a different president is elected.

We enjoyed a picturesque drive back along the Bord du Mer, the seaside road.

The l’esterel in the background

We never tire of this drive

Before going back to the apartment, we made our daily stop at Geant for Cidre.

But before going to the Cidre, I spotted a wall of bathing suits.  Bikinis. Mix and match.  Oh yes. I ended up making a purchase of a great bikini for ….11 euros!!!!

 

Eleven euros and the best bathing suit I’ve ever purchased. Bonaparte loves this!

I’m going back for another.

Time just flies by so quickly here.

We sat down at 8:30 for our well-deserved aperitifs and dinner.

The phone rang. It was the vet’s office. Chippy has an ear infection. But they took care of it early on!

Bonne Nuit!

Wednesday, June 21st

Hmmm. I woke up at 8AM. That’s a bit late. I don’t want to miss any of the sun!  It’s Wednesday already. Time is fleeting for sure.

Today is the first day of summer and in my doomed way, the worst day of the year because after today, the days get shorter.  Yeah. I’m that person.  The first day of winter is, in a twist, one of my favorite days of the year because the days get longer!

Our plan today is to hit the pool then go into St. Trop to visit Dany again.

Bonaparte dropped me off at the pool and headed off to the clubhouse to check his email.  When he came back to join me, he announced that our rented car had a flat tire.

The car rental company, Hertz, had to be notified, and someone was sent over to the pool to take the flat tire off and replace it with a donut.  After which Bonaparte would drive the car back to Nice airport and get another car.

You following?

Our plans to head into St. Tropez were not going to happen.

By the time Bonaparte took care of the car debacle it was well into the afternoon.  I finished another book.

Keeping it casual for our drive into Grasse. As you can probably tell, once again, I’ve overpacked.  I’ve been wearing a bathing suit most of the time. I clean up nicely though! Thanks to my wig!

We decided to drive into Grasse—I needed to pick up some more Fleur d’Oranger; my favorite summer scent.

I’m very brand loyal with my scents. In the winter Guerlain. In summer, Fragonard! I love this place!

And even though it can be a bit touristy, so what!  The parfum and other items that Fragonard sells are lovely!

We stopped in Cannes to pick up some wine and then off to Geant (which is making a major appearance in my journal) for a few groceries.

I ended up purchasing another bathing suit!  Black with little pineapples!

My other 11 euro bathing suit.  And in a supermarket no less!

A dinner on the terrace and I spent the remainder of the evening doing laundry. And I love drying the clothing in the fresh air!!!

Shortly before midnight , e heard a large “Boom” coming from the water. It was a Fireworks show!!  I’m guessing for celebrating the first day of summer. It was spectacular. We headed to the terrace and enjoyed a front row, private viewing. It was a great way to end the longest day of the year!

What a show!!  We felt it was just for us and only for us and a great way to end the first day of summer!

PS.  My sons are visiting this weekend so I will have another post on Sunday.  I have to tell you–my oldest son is moving to L.A. at the end of the month. I’ll give more deets then but it is an amazing opportunity.

© 2017 Atypical60.com

I’m listening to Frero Delavega now.  The song is “Un petit peu de toi” and it is charming—here you go!

 

 

 

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Onto St. Tropez to See Dany and a Quiet Birthday for Bonaparte!

Posted on July 5, 2017 by Catherine

NOTICE:  At Vincent’s request, I shall go back to referring to him as “Bonaparte”.  He likes it better!

Sunday, June 18th

Bonaparte woke me up this morning at 9AM!  I was in such a deep slumber that I had a bit of vertigo upon waking.

My last memory was of getting into bed but I don’t remember anything else. Sleep deprivation from travel works in strange ways.  Honestly. It does. I never heard him wake up, shower, dress or leave to get his morning Croissant. I had to stop and catch my bearings because for a second because I didn’t quite realize I was in France!

The sky is cloudless today.  And, it’ll be a hot “Fete de Pere”—Father’s Day.  Vincent is obsessed with the weather.  He fears that either the Mistral will hit us or the skies will suddenly turn cloudy and rain will start pouring down.

He is thinking this because of the “moutons” on the sea. Little whitecaps aptly named because they resemble little mouton (sheep).  And whereas yesterday’s sea was as smooth as glassine, today’s is a bit choppy.

We are off to St. Tropez to visit Dany.  Bonaparte’s brother Francois is also here from Paris for a few days to check in on their dad as well. Francois will leave knowing Vincent is here.

I took a nice relaxing bath, shaved my legs, applied minimal makeup, my Storm wig, my $10 dress from Old Navy and my Rondini Tropezienne sandals.

Here I am!  Finally looking human again.  It’s funny because I always take way too many cosmetics with me and never use them.  A touch of eye makeup and gloss is all I need.  The fake tan has faded into a more acceptable on and I’m ready to go!

We drove to Ste. Maxime and picked up the Bateaux Verts over to St. Trop.  Boy did we have a fun ride!  The water was so choppy that the small boat was rocking around like crazy.  It was like being on an aquatic roller coaster and both of us were loving it!

The water was choppy but we didn’t care!  We were comfy inside the boat’s small cabin area!

It may look calm in the Port at St. Tropez, but the water was otherwise!

Getting closer!

Oops!  Hey big boat. Don’t hit us!!

Time was, finally, on our side and we arrived 45 minutes before meeting Francois at our favorite restaurant, La Ramade.  What else is there to do except to hop into Rondini to see if I could make my annual purchase.

Some women shop at Chanel.  Rondini is MY choice!

The shop, on this Sunday, was crowded.  Across from where I was sitting was a family. Parents making what looked like the first Rondini purchase for their two small daughters.  They looked so adorable in their little sundresses and trying on tiny Tropezienne sandals.  A group of young women was mulling over which sandals to get while a woman, with her husband and their dog, who was relaxing next to her was trying to decide on a couple of pairs.

I wanted red sandals this year and ended up trying on the Pouce Tressé (which translates into “Thumb Braid”—that’s thumb thing else!) sandal.  I loved the look due to the simple strap across the big toe and the simple strap across my foot.  But—the fit was off.  A smaller size had the straps fitting perfectly but the sole was too short.  The larger size had a sole that fit perfectly but the straps were too wide for my narrow foot.

The Rondini Pouce Tressé sandals which became another addition to my collection!

This is Rondini, ladies!  And therefore, was no problem.  The sandals would be custom made for me at no extra charge.  Narrow straps would be put into place on a larger sole.  It would take five days for the sandals to be ready. No problem because we would be coming back to see Dany again.

I can’t tell you how much I love this shop. The business is family run and the sales help is remarkably knowledgeable.  We left Rondini empty handed but with the promise of another great pair of sandals toward week’s end.

On the way to the restaurant, we stopped at the little square in the center of town and watched a group of men celebrating Fete de Pere by playing Boule.  It was hot but the dry air made it very comfortable.

Bonaparte snapped this one of me sitting on a bench at the square.  The time on the camera is weird.

I’m ready for my close-up Mr. Demille!

Fountain in the square

On our way to the restaurant

We arrived at the restaurant to meet Francois waiting at our table.  It’s great to see him again and even better to see Bonaparte enjoying time with his brother.  They spoke about Dany and other subjects and it was fun to see Bonaparte speaking so carefree and natural in his native tongue.

Back at the eternally casual and charming La Ramade!

It was also great to be back at La Ramade. I love this charming little restaurant.  The Provençal offerings are one of the most important reasons that make this place my favorite.  I settled on my usual, Rognons de Veau (veal kidneys) while B’parte had Frog’s Legs and Francois ordered “Lamb Pieds and Paquets”—and when I was offered a taste I was amazed at how tender the meat was. It was delicious!

Bonaparte in deep thought about what to have for dinner that evening!

La Ramade never changes–and that’s a good thing!

The owner is a very, very hard working guy.  And he knows how much I love my kidneys!

I ended up taking one of these great red menus home with me.  Bonaparte will frame it and we can hang it up in the kitchen area. This is a true souvenir!

From sitting down on arrival through the endless cups of strong coffee at meal’s end, this little restaurant is consistently great!

This is what the Pieds & Paquets look like–but I got the image from Wiki because I didn’t take a photo of them.  They were quite delicious!

When we finished lunch, we headed to the residence (assisted living) where Dany lives.  I knew he wasn’t well but wasn’t prepared for the sight.  His mouth was opened as if struggling either for air or to speak.  His eyes were alert and alive.  His legs distorted and discolored.  The machines pumped in a rhythm that seemed to be pushing him to get well—almost like the huffing of The Little Engine That Could.

Bonaparte and Francois at Dany’s bedside.  I cut Dany out of this photo because I couldn’t bring myself to show you how ill he looks.

On this Fete de Pere, it made me miss my own dad terribly.

He had moments of lucidity and was talkative despite the struggle to get the words out. At one point, he motioned for me to go over to him.  He grabbed both my hands—and I could feel the remaining strength he had.  He put my hands up to his lips, kissed them and he told me he loved me.

To give the nurse a break, I fed him his custard and gelatin. He didn’t take much but at lease it was something.

This look at life in St. Tropez was painted by Dany some years ago.  It is a magnificent painting and one of my favorites.

We left him at 4:30 with the promise of coming back to see him during the week.

This stack of Dany’s beloved hats was in his room. I HAD to snap a pic. I am going to print and frame this photo because–to tell you the truth, I think its a good one!

Our walk back to the boat was slow and somewhat quiet.  We passed another group of older men playing Boule and figured that many of them probably knew Dany from back when St. Tropez was a fishing village.

On the way back to the apartment we stopped at a boulangerie in Saint-Raphael who is opened on Sundays. We picked up bread, and for Bonaparte to celebrate Fete de Pere, a Tarte Tropezienne.

 

OK. So if you are ever in the area in and around St. Raphael, this is one boulangerie that is opened on Sunday into the evening.

We went back with not one loaf but two loaves.  Where are the fishes?

Peanut M & M’s with different personality descriptions printed across the bag. A Blagueur is a joker.  

Dinner was light—our lunch was filling.  Salad and Kir Royals.

 

I could not get enough of these ridiculously flavorful tomatoes.  I had at least one a day! And the mayo–don’t get me started. The store-brand mayos are out of this world.  All other mayo can go to Hellmans!

We did have olives and saucisson too!

After a busy day, we retired early to another deep sleep-enabled with the help of clean sea air!!

Monday, June 19th

Despite Bonaparte’s warning last night that it could rain this morning (he is paranoid) we woke up to another day of bright sunny and cloudless skies.

Another sunny and bright day greets us!

Mother Nature’s birthday gift to Bonaparte!

It is his birthday today and all he wants to do is relax!  That’s fine with me. We have plenty of time here and with the craziness of our travel woes to get here and seeing his dad yesterday, I would say Vincent deserves to spend this day anyway he wants to spend it!

It is off to the pool!

Another year and the pool is looking mighty cool!

View from the little bistro area

Another view.

The pool never changes.  Most of the staff is back and the pool girl from a few years ago has returned for a while.  She gives us a very warm welcome and remembers us.  She will be back in July though and won’t be here for a few weeks.

A view of the port from the pool

I have no idea where Bonaparte wandered off to take this pic but it’s a nice one!

The same regular group of swimmers is here.

The skinny lady with the tanned leatheresque hide is still walking the perimeter of the pool. Skinny as ever. Looking straight ahead. Still puffing on the cigs.

It is extremely hot but comfortable. Word on the street—or rather word from the news on French TV is that the Canicule has arrived.  And I couldn’t be happier!

Sitting under the parasol, with plenty of sunscreen slathered over me, pen in hand, I’m thrilled to be doing what I love.

Bonaparte oversees the day and decided that we should drive into Cannes to see what’s happening! We walked over to FNAC and I picked up some CD’s to add to my collection.

The bay on the way to Cannes

Bonaparte was obsessed with the boat to the far right. Up close, it really was very impressive

Here’s a better view.  I wish we knew some of the owners of these dinghies-I could have had a birthday party for Bonaparte!

Window display in Cannes

Cannes you believe it?  What a naughty sign.  I love it!!

A fresco homage to the actor Gerard Philipe. He was Daniele’s first boyfriend!

This year’s CD purchases proved to be among the best. All of these are winners!

We walked some more and stopped for a refreshing Citron Presse—with the return of the Canicule, this delightful lemony beverage hit the spot.

From the table on a lazy and very hot Monday afternoon in Cannes…

…perfect for enjoying a refreshing Citron Presse!

A stop at our hypermarche for a birthday dessert came in the form of a Tarte Tropezienne.  Back “home” to enjoy, yet another dinner on the terrace and a birthday celebration.

Another trip to the local hangout!

Quite possibly the greatest supermarket display of all time.  A Senorita, in France, standing atop sausages.  Is there a hidden message here?

Where else can you go to be stumped by an overwhelming amount of honey?  

Have patience with me dear friends because I’m literally obsessed with French hypermarches.  

You have no idea how hungry I am getting right now..

Why can’t Wegmans sell olives like this?

This is just a portion of the deli area

Here’s the good stuff

What does Bonaparte want for his Birthday dessert?

He wants a small Tarte Tropezienne!

Back home to start dinner

And as the sun makes the way to set

We pinch ourselves because this is paradise!

Tomorrow we wake early and head to L’Estagnol!

© 2017 Atypical60.com

Here’s a tune from the Alain Souchon & Laurent Voulzy CD. OMG. I’m enjoying this so much! La Baie Des Fourmis. I can’t stop listening to this song!

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I’m Back From Summer France 2017. Let’s Start At The Beginning. Shall We?

Posted on July 4, 2017 by Catherine

Hi Everybody!!!  And greetings from….HOME!!!  I’m back in my “office” of the dining room table.

Back in my “office”.  Luckily Bonaparte is busy with his work because when he sees this mess he’ll be back speaking in French.  And not telling me how much he loves me either!

The skies are sunny for now and I’m listening to one of the CD’s I picked up on the trip. Daniel Balavoine. One of my favorite French singers (I’ll be writing about the goodies I bought in a separate post!).

Balavoine. R.I.P. He was great–and I have lots of new music!!! I’ll be writing about it!

We arrived back in PA at about 9:30 last night. No traffic on the NJ Turnpike, the Belt Parkway was, with the exception, near JFK airport, empty, which is rare.  Most of the unpacking was completed upon our return but our bodies conked out after a short while and we ended up with a solid night’s sleep.  I think my favorite part of returning from any trip is sleeping in your own bed.

I look like an unmade bed today. It’s because I just wanted to finish unpacking, upload a ton of photos and start writing. No makeup–actually makeup left over from yesterday morning before we left for home.  Look at my roots–what a disgrace. I’ll look better tomorrow!

But-I don’t want to tell too much about our return home because I’m just gonna start this post off at the beginning of the trip. OK?

I will say that the vacation had a major twist.  We didn’t get to see everything we had planned on due to a Lartigue family event.   I also had the news of one of my son’s moving at month’s end to L.A.

And, as usual the trip proved to be great and bittersweet at the same time.

Aww—let me just copy my Journal entries. OK?  Hope you enjoy. I’ll tell you, I’m thrilled to be back at this laptop that I curse because I’m just so happy to be writing.  Here goes it:

June 16, 2017

Another June. Another trip to France.

Earlier this month, Vincent’s (I’m writing Bonaparte’s given name, Vincent, in these posts-sorry for the confusion, but that’s how I journaled) dad, Dany, suffered a broken hip from a fall.  He had surgery and, at 96 years, his recovery has been slow and not going to well.  He’s out of the hospital and back into his residence—and even though he is ailing, we’ll be able to visit him in St. Tropez!

Someone doesn’t want us to go. Out of hiding Chippy. You’ll be on vacation from us!

Chippy is with the vet.  Bags are packed in the car and we are off to JFK.

On our way to J.F.K.!

My sister will be picking our car up at JFK tomorrow and bringing it back to her home for the time we’re away.  Timing proves to be everything as she and her family return from their vacation in the Caribbean tomorrow to the same airport and same terminal. Rather than an Uber, they’ll pick our car up!

This is how my sister and I communicate.  Instead of calling her and explaining where the car was, I sent photos and text messages. Not a bad idea–huh? We left the keys in the car and the door unlocked.  It’s safe. Read about the security at JFK in the post and have a laugh at the irony!

Yeah. We hit no traffic as we drove to the airport. We drove early because traffic is just so unpredictable—especially on the Belt Parkway!

JFK is crazy crowded.  Compared to our trip to Paris last November when the airport was virtually empty, it is now a zoo of New Yorkers and Tri-State residents (like you-know-who), who are stepping hurriedly and lively while the tourists from other walks of the USA and world-wide are inching by at a snail’s pace looking totally confused and like deer in the headlights.

The lines to get to the TSA are ridiculously long and a woman standing behind Vincent and me strikes up a conversation.  She has an accent and I find out she is going back to Austria to visit her family, who she hasn’t seen in 5 years.  We talk and find out that we both live in the Philadelphia area.  She, like us, refuse to take flights to Europe from Philly.  The price airlines charge from Philly is sinful.  The price to fly out of JFK is half of what it costs from where we live.  And trust me, the way the airlines treat people these days, we should be getting discounts!

My travel ensemble.  I’m very surprised the jeans still fit–albiet a little tighter around the ass, thighs and belly.  The diet starts tomorrow! BTW, I was ready to take most of these items off for the folks at the TSA but everything stayed on.

There is no security here at JFK.  I’m not kidding.  I always jump at the opportunity to disrobe for the TSA no matter what airport I’m in. Perhaps I was a stripper or burlesque queen in a past life! Just as I was ready to take my sneakers off, I heard a loud voice yelling. “KEEP THE SNEAKERS ON!!!”.

So, then I decided to take my scarf, actually, my lady bib off and heard the same voice—but this time with even more of a demanding loudness “KEEP EVERYTHING ON.  ON!!!!!!”

The watch, bracelet, earrings and wig all stayed put. Cell phone in purse as I walked through the arbor of security.  Nothing beeped.

I must admit, I was now feeling both pissed off and mighty confused and concerned.  I had shit in my bag that should have been confiscated. Hair stuff that I forgot to pack in my suitcase that was checked in and randomly stuffed into my purse. OK?

There were no trays for change or little items.  I later spotted the trays in a huge bile. A Tower of Babel of security trays if you will at the exit of the security lines.

WTF?  I was no convinced that our plane would be lost somewhere over the Atlantic and the sharks would feed well off the grilled human remains that would drop into ocean like manna from heaven!

Everyone looked suspicious to me. I caught a glance of myself in a mirror and even I looked suspicious!

Something else needs to be clarified here.  I’ve been reading and watching on the news about so many Americans being afraid to travel overseas and remaining in the States for “staycations”.  Really? If that’s the case then why is it that this International terminal, with surrounding gates having flights to Italy, Paris and other parts of Europe are jammed packed with mostly Americans? Americans who are traveling out of the country?  It’s a great sight to see because it proves that we aren’t afraid to travel!  Yay US!!!

At 5:15 PM, the skies are still bright and sunny and surprisingly, contrary to the rain always delaying any flight I am on, there is no change of precipitation.  So why then are we not getting ready to board our plane—which isn’t even at the gate yet?

There is a lull in the terminal.  Two other flights to Paris have left.  The flight to Italy is gone. And a flight to China has just taken off.

Our flight has been delayed.  There is no explanation for this.  We should have been airborne at 6:40 PM.  It’s now after seven thirty.  I’m getting a bit cranky.  Perhaps we will be boarding the plane some time before Air France decides to go on another strike.

A family of four adults is standing about five feet in front of us.  They are bitching and complaining that their water bottles are leaking.  From the looks of it, these are water bottles they took from home. I can tell.  And I’m shaking my head that the lack of security here should have taken those bottles away.  What if the bottles are holding liquid bomb stuff?

Vincent is giving me “that look” because he knows what I’m thinking. He also knows that I’m hungry and cranky.  I just wanna get on the damned plane that still has not arrived.

It’s 8:30 PM.  I’m thinking how many birds would it take if they formed a flying carpet of sorts and flew me to France. I could explain to the little flying rodents that they would be able to scavenge better crumbs in the land of snails and frog’s legs.

The only people in the terminal are the more than 500 who will be on our flight. Seating is limited. There is no place to charge my phone.  I am realizing that when the plane does arrive, it’ll take forever to embark due to the number of travelers.

I HAD to take this photo because of the man bun. I’m telling you this much. France is the man bun capital of the world.  I regret not taking photos of all the man buns I saw.  

You know what?  I like my flights empty and my wine glass full.  Just sayin’.

Our plane finally arrived.  Our two-hour delay has turned into a four-hour one.

Finally. Our plane arrived.  The only people not cranky were the guys loading the luggage. They were thrilled thinking about the OT they would be receiving on payday!

The flight, thankfully, was uneventful.  The only thing on my mind at this point was if we would be further delayed and miss our flight from Paris to Nice.

Saturday, June 17th

Well—we arrived in Paris only to spend an hour on the tarmac while our terminal location was changed.

My guess is that we’ll miss our connection flight. The one Vincent assured me we would never miss because we had plenty of time in between flights.

People are freaking out because they’ve missed connecting flights to other parts and there is no explanation nor offers of assistance for them.  I’m a bit put off by this because the flight attendants on Air France are some of the most congenial, most pleasant and efficient attendants I’ve ever had the pleasure of assisting me.  I’m guessing they haven’t received any information from the powers-that-be.

It is now almost noon.  Paris time.  Our flight to Nice is 2:30 PM.

But—we still must go through customs.  Get our baggage. Recheck our baggage and get back through security.  I am convinced we will miss our flight.

As we approach the customs line it dawns on both of us that we will be spending at least an hour-and-a half on this never-ending snake of humanity.  There are two—two—border police in booths.  Vincent, being adept at the “French Line Cut” grabbed me and motioned for me to follow him.  We scurried over to the European customs line—the one for those with European passports.  Then when we were at a good close distance, he whispered to me to “look surprised that I got on the wrong line”. I did. And was able to cut ahead without people being angry at me.

The wait was cut down to an hour.  We had an hour-and a half until our flight to Nice.

Luckily,because of the time spent at Customs our luggage arrived at baggage claim before we did.

We lugged our stuff onto the tram to bring us to the terminal where the flights to Nice arrive and depart.

I do believe that St. Christopher was watching over us at this point—either that or he took pity on Vincent, who had to deal with my mini-meltdown in the middle of CDG airport.

You’re still my travel saint, Christopher.  Doesn’t matter to me about the Church taking your status away. You’re a saint to me!

Surprisingly, check in was a chinch and the lines at Security were non-existent.  Then I realized it was lunch time in France!

At 1:30 PM, we were at the gate with an hour to spend before our flight.  I found a seat to charge my phone, there was plenty of room to sit and relax, and we received news that the flight to Nice would be delayed!  But only by a half hour.

Time to relax a bit before leaving for Nice!

Our seats were great. Plenty of room because we were by the emergency exit.  Just my luck a man with gross feet had to end up sitting next to me.  I spent the one-hour flight making sure his filthy manfeet didn’t come anywhere near me!

You know me. You know that I have a thing about feet. Especially manfeet.  Look at his big toenail.  I spent the entire flight focusing on this guy’s feet!

As we did make the descent,  Bonaparte was kind enough to snap some photos for me!

And while I was focusing on manfeet, Bonaparte was concerned about “all the clouds in the sky”. Yeah. He thought THIS was too cloudy!

OK. Ready to get the Alps-Maritime out of sight…

…and the first sight of the Cote d’Azur!

..and a second view!

Landed and baggage collected it was time to get the car.  And as we were in the car, air conditioning on, my favorite radio station Nostalgie on full blast, we were ready to exit the airport and begin our vacation 2017!

But—just as we were making our exit, Vincent needed to check something.  He wanted to make sure the car was diesel rather than petrol.  Diesel is far less expensive.  Guess what?  Back to the Hertz car rental to change the car!

This time the exit from the airport is for reals!

Baggage out. Baggage in.  Again, we were ready to make our exit from the airport!

On Route A-8, we finally had a good laugh about our misadventure to finally make it to France. Stress magically disappeared as we arrived at the apartment.

It’s funny how trivial things make a lasting impression and can give you a sense of “home”.  I always know that I’m close to our place in Theoule when I see the “Pepinieres Jacky Rubino” sign.  It’s crazy but I almost feel as though I know Jacky Rubino.

I didn’t take a photo of the sign in Theoule, but Jacky Rubino’s name is always such a welcoming sight to me. It reminds me we are really on vacation!

To some familiarity may breed contempt but to me it breeds a feeling of belonging and comfort!

The apartment looked the same with one change.  Where a huge palm tree grew on a neighboring terrace, blocking the view of the sea, the view was now in full swing.  The tree was cut down making the vista more spectacular and larger than ever.

Turning the key to enter into our familiar place always brings a smile…

…the view from the terrace never fails to bring a smile to our faces…

..and the view got better with the cutting of the overgrown palm tree…

Someone was freaking out because of the cloudy sky. Are you kidding me?

The plants on the terrace have been well-maintained..

…and add a pretty touch.

With no time to waste, we dropped the luggage off and headed to our happy place, Geant Hypermarche!

OK. Back out of the apartment and on the way to do some grocery shopping!

It didn’t matter that the market was jammed packed with shoppers.  We were drooling over the produce and French groceries.  And our dinner consisted of a roti chicken. Smaller than the ones sold here but packed with flavor.  Cheese. Olives.  Other staples we would need for our stay added up to $128 euros—which is a great price for quite a lot of stuff!

I swear to you, if we lived here, every single staff member of Geant would know me by name as would I theirs!  I am obsessed with this hypermarche!

…and this isn’t even the GOOD cheese the marche sells!!!

This is the deli section folks. The DELI section. Look at the sausage and pates and good stuff.  It’s no wonder I gained weight!

Our first dinner was spent overlooking the sea. It was as smooth as glass and was just the medication I needed to bring calm and comfort to me and to destress.

The view during dinner. Luckily the clouds disappeared!

It was even more comforting to go to sleep with the doors to the terrace opened and listening to the concert given by the cicadas, frogs, owls and doves.  They were welcoming us back!

To be continued….

© 2017 Atypical60.com

Here’s one of my favorite Daniel Balavoine songs for you to listen to:  “L’Aziza”

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Some Summer Reading for You While I’m Away!

Posted on June 15, 2017 by Catherine

I won’t even tell you what I did about an hour ago. I will tell you. I repacked and purged half the clothing I originally packed.  And at one point I just started to throw stuff into the suitcase. I’m done with the pack.

But–I don’t want anyone to forget about me so I’m posting links to some of my past posts.

A Summer reading list if you will:

  1.  Shit Old Ladies Do (My favorite post and resonates so well after the “Hoop Earrings” Post!!
  2. Icona Am In Love With Little Edie Beale’s Fashion Style (I LOVED Edie Beale. LOVED her. Gray Gardens was one of my favorite documentaries!!)
  3. Atypical60’s Best of 2016. The Best Stuff For The Mature Woman
  4. Makeup Me a Kardashian  (Some fun stuff)
  5. Move Over Josephine. Bonaparte is MINE!!  (The story of us)
  6. I am Edina Monsoon (My alter ego)
  7. Just Another Day in St. Tropez (one day last summer.)
  8. The Return to Paris and the Canicule. I Sleep With The Fishes.  (The Parisian Heat Wave of two years ago)
  9. Enough of This “Shift” Do You Hear Me? My Version of Advanced Style!  This post got the most comments ever.  I got a lot of “shift” from a couple of people too.  It was, hands down, my most controversial one!
  10. Taking Hippie Back   (We need Hippies now more than ever. Yes. We do!)

They don’t have to be read at once ladies!!!  But these are some of my faves and I may quiz you!! LOL!!

I will miss writing but, we all need a rest and regroup every now and then.  See you in a few weeks!  I love you!!!

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What All The Hoopla About My Hoop Earrings? Now I’m Too Old For Them?

Posted on June 14, 2017 by Catherine

Just as I promised my daughter, Oona, that I would not go on any more rants about a certain political figure in the White House or the party that is overturning our healthcare, I found out that I am now officially “Too Old” to wear my beloved Hoop Earrings—among other things.

Huh?  WHO is too old to wear hoop earrings?  Not me!!!! I’m only 62–I’m in my youth!

My friend and reader of the blog, Juliet, gifted me with a link to a great article: “To The Women Over 40 and the 20-Somethings Who Write About Them” (Thank you, Phoebe Holmes, for writing this article!). I am so thankful that Juliet added the link because I did research and found the article Ms. Holmes was referring to.

It was “24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing Over the Age of 30”

First of all, you KNOW anything that leads to an article or slide show with the pigeon-toed pose is going to be a study in “dumb”.  This mindless and infantile pose is better left for those lacking intelligence and originality.

Hoop earrings were on the list.  I’m trying to curb my language so I won’t write the word that I used to describe this bozo who wrote “24 Things Women Should Stop Wearing Over the Age of 30”.  I will give you a hint. The word started with the letter “C”.  Yeah. It was the bad word!

Oh yes she did. She had the nerve to say that hoop earrings should only be worn for women UNDER the age of 30.  Someone needs her head examined. It ain’t me!

My favorite earrings were Number 16. Which is a riot because 16 is my lucky number.

How dare anyone disrespect my wearing of the hoops!

And guess what?  I’m never, ever, ever, ever, giving up my hoop earrings and here’s why:

Hoop earrings go very well with my wigs and scarfs!

Hoop earrings go with everything. They give off a Boho vibe. They are as hot as a summer day and as chill as a summer evening.

This was the temperature when I got into my car after work yesterday. I didn’t care because I looked as cool as a cucumber in my HOOP earrings!

Hoop earrings are simple. They are glistening thin circles of simplicity.

I got spray tanned after work today.  My hoops look fabulous with my natural fake tan!

They can be rather lady-like when they are tiny hoops and when bigger and bolder, they can be quite badass!

Here I am channeling my inner Kardashian. (Click the link to read about my transformation). My hoops are Khloe K. Badass!

I love the way hoop earrings look when hair is pulled back or when hair is down.  Hoops against long hair look striking.

My hoops are perfect for when I don’t want to overthink my earrings. Hoops in. Done.

And hoop earrings just look fabulous.

That’s right 62 and fabulous in my hoops!  

You don’t need to spend a lot of money on them either.  For travel, I always stock up on inexpensive “gold” hoops because if I lose one while swimming, I won’t fret. If I leave a pair behind, no stress because they didn’t cost a fortune.

This is just a smattering of my collection of hoop earrings.  I have a bunch already in my travel case.  Who cares if I lose any?  They were cheap!!! (But look like a million bucks!)

And if someone can tell that I’m wearing cheap hoops, then they are too close to my personal space and need to exit before I make them exit.

You really need to look through the list if you can handle the moronic ads.  Apparently, this “fashun” *cough* expert feels that women over the age of 30 should not wear leopard. My guess is that she saw me in my leopard skirt and realized she was no match for how I slayed the look.

Yeah 20-somethings!! I wear LEOPARD too. Don’t be jealous because I, an old lady, can rock the look better than you can!

And I wear graphic tees. THOSE were on the list too!

But it kills me. It really does.  Age is just a number.  Nobody, at any age, should be dictated on what or what not to wear.

And that is the trouble with fashion these days. Everyone thinks they are an expert. They aren’t.

YOU are your own expert and don’t ever forget it.  If you wanna wear hoops, get your ears double pierced and wear two hoops in each ear.

Wear leopard.

Wear that graphic tee!  And wear it proudly.

One day, the infant who pegged that internet slide show will be mortified when she finds herself well over the age of thirty and looks back on how ignorant she was when she was younger.

I need to finish packing now. I’m making sure I bring my extra-big hoops.

With all the hoopla that has been going on in Chateau Bonaparte the past week, I haven’t been showing my outfits.  I’ve forgotten to post them. Here’s two from today and yesterday. And I’m wearing hoops!

This is today’s outfit.  I’m wearing a simple dress and no face makeup because I got sprayed after work. Bonaparte doesn’t like my fake tan. It’s a bit blotchy but it’s because I can’t take a shower yet.  The girl from last time did do a much better job though.

Yesterdays OOTD. More hoops. And I DID wear shoes. But they were downstairs and I got lazy!

Tell me, though.  Is there anything that you have worn that someone told you that you shouldn’t have?  What was your reaction?

I am one Twisted Sister when I get angry! We all should be angry at articles that try to dictate what we should no wear.  “We’re Not Gonna Take It!”

 

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I’m Just a White Lady in Black Hair!

Posted on June 13, 2017 by Catherine

As a blogger, I strive to be transparent and honest.  I also like to write about why I do what I do.

If you are a regular reader, then you know about my struggle with hair loss.  The root (pun intended!) of it began many, many years ago to curb my anxiety by twirling my bio hair, picking out hairs with split ends and further splitting the ends, picking at my hair and finally pulling it.

You have NO idea of the amount of time I have spent pulling out strands with split ends.  And then splitting those ends further. Hours. HOURS I tell you! No wonder my crossed eyes never straightened out!

This is called Trichotillomania. And it caused damage that is not reversible. The hair I’ve lost is gone for good and it is due to just me and only me.

My hair was always being pulled, tugged, torn, you name it. I did it!

But moving on from that, and moving on from the products that disguised the loss and hairpieces, I want to talk about wigs.  Again.

I also want to talk about why I don’t wear what I call “White Lady Wigs”. These are wigs that are overly shiny. The texture is way too thin, many have a “perma-tease” bump. And they just do not look realistic on my head.

This is supposed to be a joke wig of a “granny” wig. I find this insulting and offensive. First of all, the stereotype of the older woman pisses me off.  The great majority of us CARE about how our hair looks…get it together and stop stereotyping.

In photos, on wig sites, these white lady wigs will always look fabulous. And the wig companies charge a lot of money for these wigs that cannot compare with the types of wigs that I wear on a daily basis.

This is the beautiful Raquel Welch. She has a line of wigs. The price runs the gamut of about $100 up towards $1,000.  We all know Ms. Welch is gorgeous. No doubt about it. She would be even more gorgeous if she wasn’t photoshopped. No 76-year old woman is that wrinkle-free.  Anyway, I purchased this wig about two years ago and it sits in the box.

Believe me. It isn’t that I’m knocking or being disrespectful to these companies or the women who wear them. It’s just that white lady wigs do not work for me. I’m a believer in wearing what makes you comfortable and what gives you confidence and what makes you feel good.

Here’s the Raquel Welch wig.  Enigma.  I trashed it after I took this pic. It’s thin and shoddy.  And definitely was not worth the money I spent on it. A true disappointment.

And that is why I wear wigs by brands that make wigs for African-American women.  And there is a reason for this.

My biological hair is very coarse and wiry. It is dull. And by “dull” I mean not shiny. So why then would I wear hair that looks like it came off a Barbie or any other doll?

 

This photo was taken in February of 2016 and I was still able to wear my bio hair with a bit of Toppik to cover the “bald spots”.  See how coarse it is?  It doesn’t shine and it is dense. I miss it–but–it is the hair I was born with and why would I want to wear a wig that doesn’t resemble this head of hair?

I want my fake hair to look as natural as possible. Makes sense—doesn’t it?

My hair is closer to Yaki texture—which resembles my coarse, wiry, kinky in spots hair that has been blown out.

My winter beauty. Outre’s “Perm Yaki 18” I have three of these!

But—what I also absolutely love about the wigs I wear are the fact that they are affordable and that is very kind to many of us women who just don’t have the funds to spend hundreds or thousands on wigs.  Wait—let me also add, the more affordable the wig, the more looks you can achieve.

Now THIS is what I mean when I want a dense wig. This is Freetress’s Soft Volume wig. I cut bangs into it.  Now. Look at this wig vs. the white lady wig a few pics above. Tell me which looks more natural!

Honestly, women need to stop fussing with their hair and stop allowing the weather to dictate how to style their coifs to protect from humidity and the elements and just plop a wig on. It’s always a great hair day!

One of my favorites is Justine by “It’s a Wig”. I love the brand’s name. It’s like “Who’s On First”.  i.e.  “Cathe, your hair looks great”  “It’s A Wig”.  ” Oh, what kind” “It’s A Wig” “Oh, what’s brand”  “It’s a WIG”….and it goes on and on.  

If you are a woman suffering from thinning or hair loss due to several reasons, may I suggest pouring a glass of wine or an iced coffee, sit at your computer, turn on YouTube and start watching reviews.

Yes. Reviews are paramount.  On any site, you will see the model wearing a wig that has been styled, manipulated and possibly photoshopped.  If you want to see the real deal you absolutely need to watch thorough reviews by real women.  And I literally binge on wig reviews.

I got lots of faves but at the top of my list are:

NaturalJoy.  Her reviews are hands down, spot on when it comes to describing everything about any wig you are interested in. She’s a “Bob” expert. I’m not kidding.  I literally almost didn’t buy a certain bobbed wig because I couldn’t find a review of hers on it.  I ended up making the purchase—which was a good one, but boy, it took courage. With reviews from NaturalJoy, I always feel more comfortable with a purchase. She is very detail-oriented and knows her stuff!  She gets into the construction and all the nuances of each wig.  You can’t not want every wig she reviews!

NaturalJoy is my Number One Go-to Reviewer!!   I can’t wait for the rest of the Bob Series!!!  Here’s her review of Rita!

My most recent wig, Rita, was purchased solely on her review and let me tell you, Rita is fabulous.  Did I mention that NaturalJoy is doing a “Bob Wig” Series?  This is more important to me than the episodes I watched of “Gossip Girl”.

Left side is Rita on me right out of the box. I didn’t even manipulate the part yet and the stock card is still on the wig.  Right is my bio hair from a few years ago.  Rita looks better than my bio hair!  If it hadn’t been for NaturalJoy’s review, I wouldn’t have known about this little cutie! I even went a shade lighter!

Next of my faves—TheHeartsandcake90.  I also rely on her reviews as well. Again, very detail-oriented and reviews on quite the variety of wigs.   She is very descriptive and explains everything like—well, like a teacher. That’s because she is a teacher! My next wig purchase will be the Bobbi Boss Claudia that she reviewed. As soon as I get back from France, I’ll be rockin’ Claudia!  Thank you Heartsandcake90! She’s also very very good in addressing any issues that a wig may have. She’s also a fan of NaturalJoy!

Thank you TheHeartsandcake90!  I am now the proud owner of THREE Storm units. Thanks to your review and Storm is an absolute favorite.

One of my Storms. Outta the box and lace just cut. She’s packed for the trip to France!

Storm is a great, great everyday wig!!!

DeeDee Woods comes in on my “Top Three” as well.  OMG. She is the big sister that you always wanted. You know, like when you were in high school and you were the oldest and you had nobody to look up to. Yeah. That’s DeeDee Woods.  Her reviews are also great.  She loves a natural look and she will keep you well-informed and well-educated on the wigs you may be interested in.

Here’s the very pretty DeeDee with the Shasha wig.  And yes. I ended up making the purchase!

“Hair” I am in my Shasha!  Bonaparte likes this one a lot.  It is very natural!

A few others whose reviews I enjoy are:

BodiedbyKeira. I love her because she makes me smile and her sense of humor gives me the giggles.  She’s fun to watch and very informative.

If you want fun and a good time while watching a wig review, by all means watch BodiedBykeira. You can’t stop smiling. And her reviews are GREAT!!

SamoreLoveTV.  There’s a special place in my heart for SamoreLove. Her accent reminds me of my old homestead of New Yawk City.  When she says certain words like “off” and pronounces it “ouwf”. I get homesick and my accent thickens.  Yeah. It duz!  But her reviews are good.  Her newest  is one I can resonate with because she focuses on a bob wig for those of us with “showt” necks!  And she’s got a sense of humor!

Hey! SamoreLove!! WHY did you just post this today?  It’s too late for me to order this bob for my trip!  I need this bob. Oh..boy do I need this bob. My neck is also short!!!  Isn’t she adorable?

I don’t know if these young women are aware, but their reviews erase the boundaries of age and race.  Women empowering women is what it is all about.

My Bobbi Boss Copper. Pay no attention to the fact that I didn’t put the edges down. I literally plopped this on my head for the blog photo.

Model Model “Sage” wig. Another wig I purchased from a review.

Freetress DP “Smoky” wig.  I was hesitant to make the purchase because I didn’t see reviews but I’m glad that I did gain the confidence to do so. I love this short bob. I think it is a great head of beach hair. And yes. I will go in the water with this on. It cost only $17.95!

I think Caucasian women can learn a lot about confidence from African American women.  Where we are self-conscience about things like wearing wigs, Black women own that confidence. These are empowering women who know what works and what does not. We all need to be more like them!

And that is why I wear wigs marketed and created for African American women.  A wig that is more in tune with my natural hair gives me the confidence to go out and be confident and empowering.  I don’t care if the hair I wear is fake. I don’t care if there is a line of demarcation on my Swiss lace—it’s better than walking around like Friar Tuck!

Um..you think I look weird in a wig?  What would you think if I walked around like Friar Tuck. Because that’s what my head looks like now. Only the hair part is way longer!

My wigs are packed. And Bonaparte has also gained confidence in his knowledge of wigs. He believes he is now my “wig” consultant.  He likes my wigs wavy. I still prefer a straight bob or a longer look!

Where do I get the wigs?  From HairsoFly, Divatress, SistaWigs, Glamourtress.  These are just a few of the many sites that sell wonderfully affordable and more natural looking wigs! Take a look at the sites.  If you have thinning hair or any hair loss, take a chance and have fun knowing you will have a great hair day!   NOTE:  You know me. I am not sponsored. I am adding the links to these sites because I purchase from them!

Some wiggy fun for you. The B-52’s. “WIG”.  PS I love the bouffant wig in the video!

 

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Ms. France-y Pants Has a Meltdown!

Posted on June 10, 2017 by Catherine

It’s true.  Miss France-y pants here has had a meltdown over such a ridiculous task.  Packing.  As you know, I wrote a post about the start of my packing chore.   Everything was all nicey-nicely organized—to a point.

That’s right!  C’est Moi, Ms. France-y Pants had a meltdown!

Then things got weird.  At work, I’ve got a bunch of new responsibilities, which I love having.  However, when in the learning process things can become frustrating—especially if you are like me and are a perfectionist at work tasks.  I do not like to make mistakes. Errors are time-consuming and they are not efficient.  In my own little world, there is no room for error.  *NOTE—this is at work only. IRL, I am One. Giant. Error!

More like what a week!! Why do I get so anxious about everything right before a vacation?

And given the fact that it has been a busy week, I just started throwing clothing in a pile until I had no idea what I was throwing in that pile.

The piles just getting higher and higher 

The funny thing is, I know I will overpack.  Again. 

And then I think of those whose blogs I read and how great and organized they are at packing and I feel so inept.

But then I think of where I’m going—and it is strictly casual.  And that makes me happy.  But then I think of the casual clothes that I have and which ones should I bring and what about my cosmetics and skin care and other shit stuff that absolutely needs to come with me or I won’t be able to survive.

So, I had a bit of a meltdown.

I kind of just went blank.

I should have done more packing last night.  Instead, I decided to play with my hair—and by that, I mean the hair that I recently purchased!

This is what I did last night.  I played with my hair.  Bonaparte has asked me to pack the hair in the bottom left-hand picture. He said it is a nice look for going out to dinner!

I should have taken care of all this stuff early this morning.  Instead, I went over to my Poinsettias that have been around since November and started worrying about them and wondered if they will miss me. I told them that I love them and want them to hang around for next Christmas.  This is not normal behavior.

Hello my little red and green babies!  I want you to stick around for next Christmas!  I need to pack now…..sort of!

Procrastinating further, I decided to run some errands this morning rather than concentrating on finishing the packing.

I went to the mall to make an appointment to get spray tanned.  (click the link for last year’s version!) I can’t go to the Cote d’Azur looking so pasty white.  What if a golden-tanned fisherman mistakes me for a baby white whale?  He’ll harpoon me!! I need to blend in with the locals.  Wednesday evening after work I will be transformed from parchment paper skin into a glorious fake tan!

I can’t wait to get back here!  Bonjour Nice!

And will ya look at what movie Air France will be showing!!! Demain Tout Commence!  The film directed by Bonaparte’s cousin!  Part of my procrastinating was perusing the Air France in-flight entertainment choices!

After I made the tan appointment, I figured that since I was already at the mall, I would stop off at Old Navy.  Oh, happy sale day!  Dresses for ten bucks!  And forty percent off shorts. 

Wow!  I just about flipped my wig over this great deal.  Ten bucks for this dress–and the scarf was $4.49. A cute outfit for less than fifteen dollars!

I was feeling very procrastination productive and next stop was Barnes and Noble.  Clinton Kelly, who just happens to be one of my make believe best friends, wrote a book that came out in paperback. It’ll make for great pool and beach reading.  Not to stop there, I also made the purchase of the straw “Bonjour” market tote. It’s so cheesy and kitschy. I had to have it. Besides, it’ll be fun to roam around Marché Forville with my fun tote!

Nothing says “Tourist” more than a straw bag with the word “Bonjour” displayed across the front.  After almost ten years of hanging out on the French Riviera, I feel the pretentious entitlement of saying that I can get away with this!

Oh Clinton. Thank you for hating everyone except me!  I can’t wait to get to the pool, sit under my parasol and start reading this epic piece of American literature!!

I arrived back home a bit after noon—closer to 1 PM. And Bonaparte gently reminded me that he put Chippy into doggie daycare today so that I could finish packing in peace. Talk about a hint!

Yes. A “certain someone” reminded me that I really, REALLY, needed to start focusing on packing the suitcases.   The delusion of only bringing a carry on was just that–a delusion!

I didn’t know what to tackle first!

So, I went up to the little guest room that houses my wigs and makeup and more clothing and I went to work.

Here’s how it rolled.

While I realize it’ll be hot as balls in the South of France, I’ve decided to pack these jeans.  They will serve as my weight scale. They are a size 6 and fit nicely. I can put them on every morning and if they still fit, then I know that no weight was gained!

This went back into the closet. I’m bringing the Primark dress instead.

 

Bonaparte brought my filthy pink suitcase up from the garage. Oh. I LOVE my dirty pink suitcase because the filthier it gets, the less someone will want to take it!

Wow!  A treasure chest of toiletries was in that dirty suitcase!!  I did not realize how much stuff I already had!

Here’s the Other ten dollar dress I purchased at Old Navy.  It’s not my “color” but I really don’t care–it’ll travel wrinkle-free and I can wear it over my bathing suit…

Speaking of bathing suits. Booyah!  Don’t ever tell me I’m too old at 62 to wear a bikini. Yeah. I have flabby bits and I’m not “buff” who cares!  That’s what I love about the French beaches.  Women of all ages can wear what they want and nobody gets judgy!

My other Target Special.  As long as the thighed burns are shaved, it’s all good and I can jump into the sea! I beach for comfort and a two piece gives me the comfort I need! THIS IS 62 PEOPLE!! THIS IS 62–WE CAN WEAR BATHING SUITS LIKE THIS IF WE WANT! Damn. My wig is getting wonky from all the clothing changes!

I took out the white shorts I originally packed and replaced them with this pair from Old Navy.  Notice anything?  In the first picture, I have my tee on backward.  I fixed it as you can see in the photo on the right!

The boyfriend denim shorts from Old Navy were 40% off. These are coming with me.  I swear to you, I’ll end up in the bathing suits, shorts, and the Primark dress the entire time I’m in France.

I can wear these white jeans out for a casual dinner. I’ll wear it with the blue checked Gingham shirt.

THE Gingham shirt. I sewed the missing button on and it is now packed!

And among other items that were packed was my daily hair, reading material, and my journal!

I’m hoping four books are enough.  I read A LOT on vacation. It’s the way I relax at the pool and unwind before sleeping!Barnes and Noble better never close. There is nothing like a bookstore to calm the wild beast of a soul!

My new phone is properly accessorized with a case, a shatter-resistant screen, and the plug thingy.

 

I don’t know why I’m bringing half of this stuff. But at this point, I’m too tired to go over the clothing again.  What I do know is one of the reasons I love visiting the Cote d’Azur is because it is incredibly casual.  I’m not even bringing heels.  I’m living in sandals, converse sneakers, and more sandals.  I’m bringing one dress to go out to dinner only because Bonaparte likes dressing when we dine out.

All my stuff for a bit over two weeks is now housed. And I REFUSE to revisit this!

There is nobody to impress and I don’t have to be fashionable—just simple and beach bummy.

I have my hair. And my makeup.  And my sense of humor.

Time for a beauty mask!

And a dinner al fresco with some bangin’ hair!

I’m ready!

And the piles are gone. I just need to vacuum..

And the daybed is back to normal and ready for Chippy to sit and gaze out the window!

Are you like me? Do you melt down before going away for any length of time or vacation? I really want to know!!!

Here’s a very soothing tune to bring you to that calming place of going away!  “Le Chant des Sirenes”  Frero Delavega.

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