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    <title>* Tongue in Cheek *</title>
    
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/" />
    <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:weblog-260700</id>
    <updated>2013-05-22T23:50:16+02:00</updated>
    <subtitle>Stories collected while living in France.</subtitle>
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    <atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/typepad/YJHe" /><feedburner:info uri="typepad/yjhe" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:browserFriendly></feedburner:browserFriendly><entry>
        <title>Update on my Back</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/update-on-my-back.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/update-on-my-back.html" thr:count="0" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa34f844970d</id>
        <published>2013-05-22T23:50:16+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-22T23:50:16+02:00</updated>
        <summary>For the last forty eight hours I followed your good intentions, took advil, did basic yoga strenches, took hot baths, it felt so good! Did not apply ice, as I couldn't bare the thought! Walked or stood, as sitting killed. Moaned. Applied arnica to my lower back, until I could see an osteopath. Amazing grace. I am a bit sore, but I can move! And feel a million times better! Thank you, all of you for your caring and concern. P.S. The Rose Jam post is a re post, as today I couldn't muster up the energy to write. Though as usual the midnight owl in me is rearing to go. x</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>For the last forty eight hours I followed your good intentions,</p>
<p>took advil,</p>
<p>did basic yoga strenches,</p>
<p>took hot baths, it felt so good!</p>
<p>Did not apply ice, as I couldn't bare the thought!</p>
<p>Walked or stood, as sitting killed.</p>
<p>Moaned.</p>
<p>Applied arnica to my lower back, </p>
<p>until I could see an osteopath.</p>
<p>Amazing grace. I am a bit sore,</p>
<p>but I can move! And feel a million times better!</p>
<p>Thank you, all of you for your caring and concern.</p>
<p>P.S. The Rose Jam post is a re post,  as today I couldn't muster up the energy to write.</p>
<p>Though as usual the midnight owl in me is rearing to go.</p>
<p>x</p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>How to Make Rose Jam</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/how-to-make-rose-jam.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/how-to-make-rose-jam.html" thr:count="13" thr:updated="2013-05-22T22:58:10+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa25f0e3970d</id>
        <published>2013-05-22T14:52:00+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-22T14:52:00+02:00</updated>
        <summary>How to make Rose Jam, photos and text by Corey Amaro Cutting the red roses was not an easy task. Their fullness, ripe and fragrant, climbing up, circling my son's bedroom window, gave an air of romance, made me dreamy, made me forget the neighbors next door, and because of those reasons, the idea of cutting the roses to make rose jam just didn't feel right. Everyday Annie asked me if I had cut the red roses, everyday I answered, "Not yet." Everyday she shook her head saying, "They will grow back, but if you do not cut them you won't have rose jam tomorrow." It sounded simple, yet those red roses meant something to me, and cutting them subtracted the feeling they gave to me. Reluctantly I gave the scissor to Sacha, the first cut was the deepest, petals floated down like a gentle rain, covering the ground red around the ladder. I wondered if the rose vine felt pain, or was it just me? After the red rose vine was cut bare, I stared at its emptiness, noticing the peeling paint of Sacha's shutters that frame his bedroom window, without the roses as a shield the neighbor's constant chatter rattled my brain... plucking the petals I wondered why I was making rose jam? I know the taste is like eating a rose, but was it worth the reality of cutting beauty away? To make rose jam you need fragrant roses that have not been chemically treated. Whatever color of rose you use that will be the color of the jam. Many suggest to tear off the white tip at the edge of the rose petal, because it will the rose jam bitter. Though Annie waved her hands at me and said, "Honestly, do you think my mother had time to do that when she made her rose jam? I never saw her do that. Leave the white tip, it doesn't matter." I trusted her memorable past experience and left the rose petals intact. Rose Jam -Cut the roses in the morning, just as they are beginning to release their perfume. -Pluck the petals from the rose blooms and set them aside to dry, (this takes a few days), -Fifty roses give about 100 grams of dried rose petals, -Weigh the dried rose petals, put them in a large, cooking pan, -Add the dried rose petals, cover them with...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Movable Feast" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705a9f5b970c-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705a9f5b970c-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a> <br />How to make Rose Jam, photos and text by Corey Amaro</p>
<p>Cutting the red roses was not an easy task. Their fullness, ripe and fragrant, climbing up, circling my son's bedroom window, gave an air of romance, made me dreamy, made me forget the neighbors next door, and because of those reasons, the idea of cutting the roses to make rose jam just didn't feel right.</p>
<p>Everyday Annie asked me if I had cut the red roses, everyday I answered, "Not yet." Everyday she shook her head saying, "They will grow back, but if you do not cut them you won't have rose jam tomorrow." It sounded simple, yet those red roses meant something to me, and cutting them subtracted the feeling they gave to me.</p>
<p>Reluctantly I gave the scissor to <a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2007/05/the_love_affair.html">Sacha</a>, the first cut was the deepest, petals floated down like a gentle rain, covering the ground red around the ladder. I wondered if the rose vine felt pain, or was it just me?</p>
<p><br /><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe047970b-pi"><img alt="red rose" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe047970b-400wi" title="red rose" /></a>  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the red rose vine was cut bare, I stared at its emptiness, noticing the peeling paint of Sacha's shutters that frame his bedroom window, without the roses as a shield the neighbor's constant chatter rattled my brain... plucking the petals I wondered why I was making rose jam? I know the taste is like eating a rose, but was it worth the reality of cutting beauty away?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fde26970b-pi"><img alt="Red rose jelly" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fde26970b-400wi" title="Red rose jelly" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>To make rose jam you need fragrant roses that have not been chemically treated. Whatever color of rose you use that will be the color of the jam. Many suggest to tear off the white tip at the edge of the rose petal, because it will the rose jam bitter. Though Annie waved her hands at me and said, "Honestly, do you think my mother had time to do that when she made her rose jam? I never saw her do that. Leave the white tip, it doesn't matter."<br />I trusted her memorable past experience and left the rose petals intact.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705aaa90970c-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705aaa90970c-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a></p>
<p>Rose Jam</p>
<p>-Cut the roses in the morning, just as they are beginning to release their perfume.<br />-Pluck the petals from the rose blooms and set them aside to dry, (this takes a few days),<br />-Fifty roses give about 100 grams of dried rose petals,<br />-Weigh the dried rose petals, put them in a large, cooking pan, <br />-Add the dried rose petals, cover them with equal amounts of sugar, <br />-Sprinkle fresh squeezed lemon juice over the sugar, <br />-Add a cup of water,<br />-Cover and set aside for twenty-four hours.<br />-Add another cup of water, and slowly bring to a boil, stir often, add water if you think it is becoming too thick.<br />-Cook until the juice ripples from a wooden spoon, and when the rose petals are tender.<br />-Ladle the rose jam into sterile jars, cover tightly with sterile lids,<br />-Turn the covered, filled jam jars upside down and let set for twenty four hours.<br />Rose jam from the moment you cut the roses until you spread it on your toast takes about five days to make. Rose jam made this way is preserved for years if the jar's seal is not opened.</p>
<p><br /><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe3e9970b-pi"><img alt="red rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe3e9970b-400wi" title="red rose jam" /></a></p>
<p><br />The rose jam will look like this when you are cooking it.</p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe482970b-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe482970b-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe548970b-pi"><img alt="rose jelly" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115714fe548970b-400wi" title="rose jelly" /></a></p>
<p>The red rose jam juice is vibrant and sweet. If you want you can make jelly with it, subtracting the petals.</p>
<p>Or add it to chilled white wine, or vodka.</p>
<p><br /><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705aafc4970c-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705aafc4970c-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a></p>
<p>I prefer thick jam, so I add very little water. If you prefer jam more jelly like, you will need to add more than two cups of water.</p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab189970c-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab189970c-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a></p>
<p>The first time I made a batch of rose jam I tried a different recipe (not Annie's which is above) and the rose jam was very bitter, and the texture like eating wet jeans. I gagged. Annie scolded me for not following her tried-true recipe. I was angry at myself for wasting the roses, and since then have never faltered from her advice.</p>
<p>If only I didn't have to cut the roses to make the jam... making rose jam would be pure pleasure to make.</p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab20d970c-pi"><img alt="rose petal jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab20d970c-400wi" title="rose petal jam" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab27c970c-pi"><img alt="rose jam" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20115705ab27c970c-400wi" title="rose jam" /></a></p>
<p>The rose jam is a delicacy, a royal taste, and as much as I love it, I feel sad about cutting the roses in bloom. There is a price to pay for everything.</p>
<br /></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>The Silver Lining</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/the-silver-lining.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/the-silver-lining.html" thr:count="24" thr:updated="2013-05-22T17:29:33+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa2263e3970d</id>
        <published>2013-05-21T13:39:00+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-21T13:39:00+02:00</updated>
        <summary>The silver lining to yesterday's event: I wish I could say I had a wonderful massage, but that is not French Husband's gift, nor locally found. No instead I slept in and admired the play on light on the ceiling. The roses that cover my bedroom window gave such a sweet fragrance. And I found a baby caterpillar in my hair. Oh the joy of sleeping with the window open! The caterpillar was nothing considering the bat that came in last year, or the neighbor's cat that peed under my bed. Silver lining, your notes of thoughtfulness and caring. Thank you for the good advice! I feel better today than I did yesterday that is certain.</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c640855970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="French Window " class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c640855970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c640855970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="French Window " /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The silver lining to yesterday's event:</p>
<p>I wish I could say I had a wonderful massage, but that is not French Husband's gift, nor locally found. No instead I slept in and admired the play on light on the ceiling. The roses that cover my bedroom window gave such a sweet fragrance. And I found a baby caterpillar in my hair.</p>
<p>Oh the joy of sleeping with the window open! The caterpillar was nothing considering the bat that came in last year, or the neighbor's cat that peed under my bed.</p>
<p>Silver lining, your notes of thoughtfulness and caring. Thank you for the good advice! I feel better today than I did yesterday that is certain. </p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Back Yard Takes on New Meaning</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/back-yard-takes-on-new-meaning.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/back-yard-takes-on-new-meaning.html" thr:count="52" thr:updated="2013-05-22T16:53:20+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa221c03970d</id>
        <published>2013-05-20T22:06:00+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-20T22:06:00+02:00</updated>
        <summary>36 hours of utter downpour rain, in the middle of May, in Provence, is weird. The lack of sunshine has caused poppies to bloom late, and the cherries not to blush red. The rainstorm tried to rip every petal off the roses covering wildly our house. But try as it may, our roses hung on, such gracefully strength roses offer. Late this afternoon I worked on a lattice in our courtyard. As I pushed the stake further into the ground I heard a strange squeek sound inside my body. Within in seconds I felt a sharp throbbing pain in my lower back. Since then I hardly can move. I have never had a back ache until now. Dang, this isn't funny. Have you had a back problem? If so what did you do to recover? Hopefully after a good night sleep this will be a thing of the past... though at this point I am wondering if I can get out of bed tomorrow!</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://featherfiles.aviary.com/2013-05-20/f77694d11/a7fec540eec84e8e8b58c5ab1006feef_hires.png" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Bed-of-roses" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa220400970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20192aa220400970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Bed-of-roses" /></a><br /><br />36 hours of utter downpour rain, in the middle of May, in Provence, is weird.</p>
<p>The lack of sunshine has caused poppies to bloom late, and the cherries not to blush red.</p>
<p>The rainstorm tried to rip every petal off the roses covering wildly our house. But try as it may, our roses hung on, such gracefully strength roses offer.</p>
<p>Late this afternoon I worked on a lattice in our courtyard. As I pushed the stake further into the ground I heard a strange squeek sound inside my body. Within in seconds I felt a sharp throbbing pain in my lower back.</p>
<p>Since then I hardly can move. I have never had a back ache until now. Dang, this isn't funny. </p>
<p>Have you had a back problem? If so what did you do to recover? Hopefully after a good night sleep this will be a thing of the past... though at this point I am wondering if I can get out of bed tomorrow!</p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Tea, Apples, Cinnamon, Brocante, Baked for Friendship </title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/tea-apples-friendship.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/tea-apples-friendship.html" thr:count="15" thr:updated="2013-05-21T17:46:59+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c48a7de970b</id>
        <published>2013-05-19T21:27:00+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-19T21:36:41+02:00</updated>
        <summary>Stacked tea cups waited on the kitchen table as I prepared the tea. Mariage and Freres "Trois Noix", black tea perfumed with almond, hazelnut and walnut. Such a match for an apple cinnamon tart. Yes, I live in France where matching wine with your meal is as common as using a fork when you eat. The meal thing, the French ritual of dining has rubbed off on me. Why not match ones tea with dessert? And Mo's teacups to antique saucers? Why not savor our daily moments with extra attention... for it is in these everyday moments that we nourish the soul. How could I leave this silver and mother of pearl dessert forks and knives at the brocante? Well, I couldn't. "A set of twelve, How much?" I asked the dealer nonchalantly. He nodded and gave me his price. I asked for less. And he took the forks and knives from my hands steaming, "You know that is a good price, but if you want to pretend that it is not, walk away." Dang it bugs me when antique dealers get bent out of shape. "Okay, okay, okay..." I pleaded, "I'll buy them." When I polished them at home, they smiled back with etched blades. The taste of apples did not water my mouth at that moment, no, it was the floral etched blade. I literally kissed them. Sugar cubes on a tarnished silver tray, with a sugar tongs and souvenir crowned top teaspoons. The brocante has put a curse on me, spoiling me for such sweet little things. Oh the pleasure of using old things that have a connection to the past, yet speak in present tense. Did you know that the French use sugar cubes for tea and coffee, and granulated sugar for baking. Yeah its true. Three golden delicious apples beckoned my attention, "Enough already with the tabletop stuff, let's get cookin!" Any grocery store in France, whether large or small, in a city or an out of the way country town has puff pastry dough. As my friend Annie says, "No need to make it when it is this good and inexpensive." Pure butter puff pastry, one 15 inch pre rolled, including baking paper... cost a little more than a dollar. Chop three golden delicious apples, add them to the puff pastry. Add a couple of teaspoons of brown sugar, a handful of tri colored...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Movable Feast" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9830970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tea cups" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9830970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9830970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Tea cups" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Stacked tea cups waited on the kitchen table as I prepared the tea.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/2080111760/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=tongueinche04-20&amp;camp=0&amp;creative=0&amp;linkCode=as1&amp;creativeASIN=2080111760&amp;adid=1KYP8DTHYFG5DRRYDSFB" target="_self" title="mariage et freres the">Mariage and Freres</a> "Trois Noix", black tea perfumed with almond, hazelnut and walnut.</p>
<p>Such a match for an apple cinnamon tart. </p>
<p>Yes, I live in France where matching wine with your meal is as common as using a fork when you eat. The meal thing, the French ritual of dining has rubbed off on me. Why not match ones tea with dessert? And <a href="http://revesdargile.canalblog.com/" target="_self" title="reves d'argile teacups">Mo's teacups</a> to antique saucers? Why not savor our daily moments with extra attention... for it is in these everyday moments that we nourish the soul.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9458970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Dessert forks and knives" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9458970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023e9458970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Dessert forks and knives" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>How could I leave this silver and mother of pearl dessert forks and knives at the brocante? Well, I couldn't. </p>
<p>"A set of twelve, How much?" I asked the dealer nonchalantly. He nodded and gave me his price. I asked for less. And he took the forks and knives from my hands steaming, "You know that is a good price, but if you want to pretend that it is not, walk away."</p>
<p>Dang it bugs me when antique dealers get bent out of shape. "Okay, okay, okay..." I pleaded, "I'll buy them."</p>
<p>When I polished them at home, they smiled back with etched blades. The taste of apples did not water my mouth at that moment, no, it was the floral etched blade. I literally kissed them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46124c970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Cream and sugar" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46124c970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46124c970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Cream and sugar" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sugar cubes on a tarnished silver tray, with a sugar tongs and souvenir crowned top teaspoons.</p>
<p>The brocante has put a curse on me, spoiling me for such sweet little things. </p>
<p>Oh the pleasure of using old things that have a connection to the past, yet speak in present tense.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00092LSWS/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=tongueinche04-20&amp;camp=0&amp;creative=0&amp;linkCode=as1&amp;creativeASIN=B00092LSWS&amp;adid=0V4GY9QTZDC3WWFCN9X8" target="_self" title="French sugar cubes">Did you know that the French use sugar cubes for tea and coffee, and granulated sugar for baking. Yeah its true.</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4615c3970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Three apples" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4615c3970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4615c3970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Three apples" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three golden delicious apples beckoned my attention,</p>
<p> "Enough already with the tabletop stuff, let's get cookin!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c585e5e970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Apple crumple tart" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c585e5e970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c585e5e970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Apple crumple tart" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Any grocery store in France, whether large or small, in a city or an out of the way country town has puff pastry dough. As my friend Annie says, "No need to make it when it is this good and inexpensive."</p>
<p>Pure butter puff pastry, one 15 inch pre rolled, including baking paper... cost a little more than a dollar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e6b04970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Chopped apples for tarte" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e6b04970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e6b04970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Chopped apples for tarte" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chop three golden delicious apples,</p>
<p> add them to the puff pastry. </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e667c970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Apples cinnamon raisins" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e667c970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e667c970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Apples cinnamon raisins" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Add a couple of teaspoons of brown sugar,</p>
<p>a handful of tri colored raisins,</p>
<p>a handful of walnuts (thank you Aunt Louie!)</p>
<p>some cinnamon, some nutmeg...</p>
<p>and a few chunkys of butter (about five tablespoons).</p>
<p>Mix everything on top of the puff pastry dough. Saves on washing a bowl. A small "green action" for the planet you might say.</p>
<p>Then fold the puff pastry dough on top of the apples. It should look like a plump nest.</p>
<p>Bake at 350° for twenty minutes (I use a convection oven.).</p>
<p>Turn the oven off, and open the oven door slightly. Let it breath for ten minutes before serving.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e71cc970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Golden delicious tart" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e71cc970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024e71cc970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Golden delicious tart" /></a></p>
<p>Tea, apples, cinnamon, brocante, baked for friendship... </p>
<p>Late Sunday afternoon tea under the roses with friends.</p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Saturday Art Saves: The Candle Maker in Provence</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/saturday-art-saves.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/saturday-art-saves.html" thr:count="8" thr:updated="2013-05-19T17:40:21+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e201910244a55e970c</id>
        <published>2013-05-18T14:54:52+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-18T14:54:52+02:00</updated>
        <summary>Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ Each Saturday I focus on a different artist that I admire. From potters to painters, chefs to collectors, seamstress to songwriters, lifestyle to lovers... anyone who set the paintbrush, pastry brush, hands and heart on fire to create. Those who inspire art to flow where it may. Discover one of the last remaining Candle Makers where candles are still made as they were in the 15th century. Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ "The “Living Heritage Company” is installed in a large warehouse in Tarascon’s industrial park, a very modern place for an ancient tradition. La Ciergerie - The Candle Maker was created in 1858 by the White Canons or Premonstratensians established in the Frigolet Abbey between Avignon and Tarascon. In 1903, the Monks of White Canons left France for Belgium and Great Britain and they sold The Candle Maker to Monsieur Chabrier, who set up the workshop in the old stables in the heart of his Provençal village, Graveson." Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ "The handmade candles attracted churchmen as well as enthusiasts, the quality work, and the reputation of the candlemaker grew until the day. In October 2009, a fire devastated the handsome workshop, destroying dozens of wax molds. Stéphane Richard the owner of Tissus Souleiado in Tarascon bought the company, rapidly setting up in this functional site at the entrance to the village in order to open in December a new workshop-boutique. The Candle Maker was saved, and production continued with the same expertise." Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ "Presently, there are six young, passionate and proud Master Candle Makers. One of them, Christophe, concentrates on the finishing touches of the immense church candles, revealing two 15th-century manufacturing techniques: “Dipped” candles produce conical candles. Cotton wicks are stretched on a frame and plunged repeatedly into a wax bath at 70°C until the desired diameter is achieved. The second technique requires real dexterity. Each Master Candle Maker has his own technique, but the gesture must be precise, he must continuously ensure the even distribution of the wax when he ladles the wax on wicks suspended from a hoop and gauge the candles diameter…" Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ Visits and tours are available at La Ciergerie. "A candle over fifty inches high and nearly 3 inches in diameter requires one week to make." Photo Source http://souleiado-lemusee.com/lunivers/la-ciergerie/ Wax prepared to be poured on the candles. Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/ Now if only I...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Saturday Art Saves" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p><a href="http://souleiado-lemusee.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Image141.jpg"><img alt="" height="410" src="http://souleiado-lemusee.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Image141.jpg" title="Cierge à la louche" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Each Saturday I focus on a different artist that I admire. From potters to painters, chefs to collectors, seamstress to songwriters, lifestyle to lovers... anyone who set the paintbrush, pastry brush, hands and heart on fire to create.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Those who inspire art to flow where it may.</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 11pt;">Discover one of the last remaining Candle Makers where candles are still made as they were in the 15th century.</span></p>
<p><br /><img alt="Ciergerie de l'Abbaye" height="250" src="http://souleiado-lemusee.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/Image33.jpg" title="Ciergerie de l'Abbaye" width="312" /></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<div id="BlockText9440">
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">"The “Living Heritage Company” is installed in a large warehouse in Tarascon’s industrial park, a </span><span style="font-size: 11pt;">very modern place for an ancient tradition.</span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> </span><em style="font-size: 11pt;"> La Ciergerie - The Candle Maker</em><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> was created in 1858 by the White Canons or Premonstratensians established in the Frigolet Abbey betwe<span style="color: #111111;">en </span></span><a href="http://www.fantasticprovence.com/section/weekend_r11/weekend-in-avignon_a543/1" style="font-size: 11pt;"><span style="color: #111111;">Avignon</span></a><span style="font-size: 11pt;"> and Tarascon. </span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">In 1903, the Monks of White Canons left France for Belgium and Great Britain and they sold The Candle Maker to Monsieur Chabrier, who set up the workshop in the old stables in the heart of his Provençal village, Graveson."</span></em></p>
</div>
<div id="BlockText9441">
<p> </p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e5948970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candles ciergerie" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e5948970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e5948970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candles ciergerie" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<div id="BlockText9441">
<p> </p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">"The handmade candles attracted churchmen as well as enthusiasts, the quality work, and the reputation of the candlemaker grew until the day. </span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">In October 2009, a fire devastated the handsome workshop, destroying dozens of wax molds. Stéphane Richard the owner of <a href="http://www.fantasticprovence.com/section/culture-fashion_r5/the-rebirth-of-souleaido_a550/1">Tissus Souleiado</a> in Tarascon bought the company, rapidly setting up in this functional site at the entrance to the village in order to open in December a new workshop-boutique.</span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The Candle Maker was saved, and production continued with the same expertise."</span></em></p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd46b970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candle ring size" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd46b970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd46b970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candle ring size" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<div id="BlockText9438">
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">"Presently, there are six young, passionate and proud Master Candle Makers. One of them, Christophe, concentrates on the finishing touches of the immense church candles, revealing two 15th-century manufacturing techniques: </span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">“Dipped” candles produce conical candles. Cotton wicks are stretched on a frame and plunged repeatedly into a wax bath at 70°C until the desired diameter is achieved. </span></em></p>
<p><em><span style="font-size: 11pt;">The second technique requires real dexterity. Each Master Candle Maker has his own technique, but the gesture must be precise, he must continuously ensure the even distribution of the wax when he ladles the wax on wicks suspended from a hoop and gauge the candles diameter…"</span></em></p>
</div>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024476a9970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Measuring candles" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024476a9970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191024476a9970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Measuring candles" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd318970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candle maker tarascon" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd318970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4bd318970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candle maker tarascon" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Visits and tours are available at La Ciergerie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e8e62970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candle maker in France" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e8e62970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e8e62970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candle maker in France" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>"A candle over fifty inches high and nearly 3 inches in diameter</p>
<p> requires one week to make."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4f8ed0970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Ciergerie poured wax" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4f8ed0970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4f8ed0970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Ciergerie poured wax" /></a><br /><a href="http://souleiado-lemusee.com/lunivers/la-ciergerie/" target="_self" title="souleiado La Ciergerie">Photo Source http://souleiado-lemusee.com/lunivers/la-ciergerie/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wax prepared to be poured on the candles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201910245794e970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Wax for hand made candles" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201910245794e970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201910245794e970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Wax for hand made candles" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Now if only I can find one of those ladles from the 1600s at the brocante....</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102446060970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candles France" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102446060970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102446060970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candles France" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><em>"Molds, are also used, which allows for the fabrication of novelty candles of varied shapes and styles. Such molds were introduced twenty years ago. </em></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 11pt;"><em>Original translucent candles are also designed at the Ciergerie, with the incorporation of Soleiado fabric, photos, assorted hues of wax, or colored candle rounds."</em></span></p>
<p><br /><br /></p>
<p><br /><img alt="" src="http://static.wix.com/media/75068c_5261ba02bf7f070cedd08b44b92945cd.jpg_srz_400_400_75_22_0.50_1.20_0.00_jpg_srz" /></p>
<div id="vwprxy___WRchTxt0-rix">
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Cierges - CIERGERIE DES PREMONTRES</p>
</div>
<div id="vwprxy___WRchTxt1-v4o">
<p>Candles made traditionally, as they were in the Abbey hundreds of years ago, can be bought online, varied sizes, shapes and colors.</p>
<p>I particular like the darker shades. Various shades, pastels to brightly colored candles are available.</p>
</div>
<div id="vwprxy___VrtclRptr0-16l3">
<div>
<div id="vwprxy___WRchTxt5-c6t">
</div>
<div id="vwprxy___ptnsLstnpt0-wg9">
<div id="Txtptn0-lss">
<div id="nfTp0-1azd">
<div>
<p> </p>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e6425970b-pi"><img alt="Long burning hand made candles" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c4e6425970b-400wi" title="Long burning hand made candles" /></a></p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" target="_self" title="ciergerie, candles, france">Photo source http://www.ciergerie.fr/</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong><em>For more information contact:</em></strong></p>
<p> </p>
<p><strong>Ciergerie de l’Abbaye des Prémontrés</strong></p>
<p>20 rue des Charpentiers</p>
<p>ZA du Roubian</p>
<p>13150 Tarascon</p>
<p>T 04 90 99 59 34</p>
<p><a href="http://www.ciergerie.fr/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">www.ciergerie.fr</a></p>
<p>Also at Souleiado:</p>
<p>http://souleiado-lemusee.com/</p>
<p><strong><em><br /></em></strong></p>
<p> </p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>The Everlasting Path </title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/the-everlasting-path-.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/the-everlasting-path-.html" thr:count="13" thr:updated="2013-05-20T03:55:24+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c493628970b</id>
        <published>2013-05-17T23:15:21+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-17T23:17:24+02:00</updated>
        <summary>Along the river we walked as night fell. Slowly this spring evening. My prayer thought went: The earth as anchor, The river as spirit, The trees growing towards the light. This river, which is behind our home, comes from a natural source and runs toward the sea. Though myth has it the river was created by Mary Madeleine's tears. Since I heard of that, the river has taken on new meaning. Symbolic meaning speaks a truth to those who listen. ... at the altar of nature and Mary's tears I set myself free. Dream catcher deep in the woods. Weaving dreams together: Yours, mine, theirs, ours... Queen Ann's lace grows wildly along the riverside, A gentle texture; As an angel's breath, whispering ever so softly. Certainly to the unknown, or should I say, "To the unseen fairies dance underneath." Oh I forgot to mention... myth has it that fairies live along this river too. An old, a very old, stone foot bridge. Connecting one side to another. There is a wire fence on the other side. The other day I went for a walk with two little neighbor boys (8 and 10), they begged, "Come on let's hop over the fence and go to the other side." They forgot that I was an adult... "Come on we'll hold the wire down!" They hopped over like deers, and then kindly they held their small hands out towards me. Foregoing reason, and rules I took a leap a faith... my inner child ran forth. My favorite spot. A child merging from the tree. Do you see her? Where does your inner child run free? Sweet divine path. Leads to no wrong. Carrying you to wherever you want to go. No questions asked, no answers given... just letting you take the steps. Leaving behind, as you are, moving forward... past-present-future, One step after another. As night fell... we walked back as one.</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Journal" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4631f4970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="The path to everlasting" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4631f4970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4631f4970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="The path to everlasting" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Along the river we walked as night fell.</p>
<p>Slowly this spring evening.</p>
<p>My prayer thought went:</p>
<p>The earth as anchor,</p>
<p>The river as spirit,</p>
<p>The trees growing towards the light.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46361a970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Flowers and river" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46361a970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb46361a970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Flowers and river" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>This river, which is behind our home, comes from a natural source and runs toward the sea.</p>
<p>Though myth has it the river was created by Mary Madeleine's tears.</p>
<p>Since I heard of that, the river has taken on new meaning. </p>
<p>Symbolic meaning speaks a truth to those who listen.</p>
<p>... at the altar of nature and Mary's tears I set myself free.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ee105970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Branches woven" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ee105970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ee105970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Branches woven" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dream catcher deep in the woods.</p>
<p>Weaving dreams together: </p>
<p>Yours, </p>
<p>mine, </p>
<p>theirs, </p>
<p>ours...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c48e711970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Soft as angel's breath" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c48e711970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c48e711970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Soft as angel's breath" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>Queen Ann's lace grows wildly along the riverside,</p>
<p>A gentle texture; As an angel's breath, whispering ever so softly.</p>
<p>Certainly to the unknown, or should I say, "To the unseen fairies dance underneath."</p>
<p>Oh I forgot to mention... myth has it that fairies live along this river too.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4641b7970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Stone bridge" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4641b7970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb4641b7970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Stone bridge" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>An old, a very old, stone foot bridge.</p>
<p>Connecting one side to another.</p>
<p>There is a wire fence on the other side.</p>
<p>The other day I went for a walk with two little neighbor boys (8 and 10), they begged, "Come on let's hop over the fence and go to the other side."</p>
<p>They forgot that I was an adult... "Come on we'll hold the wire down!"</p>
<p>They hopped over like deers, and then kindly they held their small hands out towards me.</p>
<p>Foregoing reason, and rules I took a leap a faith... my inner child ran forth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ed98f970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Face in the tree" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ed98f970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191023ed98f970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Face in the tree" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>My favorite spot.</p>
<p>A child merging from the tree.</p>
<p>Do you see her?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb464c78970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tree personage" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb464c78970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb464c78970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Tree personage" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Where does your inner child run free?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb469988970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="The path ahead" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb469988970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb469988970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="The path ahead" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>Sweet divine path.</p>
<p>Leads to no wrong.</p>
<p>Carrying you to wherever you want to go.</p>
<p>No questions asked, no answers given... just letting you take the steps.</p>
<p>Leaving behind, as you are, moving forward... past-present-future,</p>
<p>One step after another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb465a93970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Evening song" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb465a93970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb465a93970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Evening song" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>As night fell... we walked back as one.</p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Motorcycles, Candlesticks and the Brocante Thing</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/motorcycles-candlesticks-and-the-brocante-thing.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/motorcycles-candlesticks-and-the-brocante-thing.html" thr:count="17" thr:updated="2013-05-17T17:57:17+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c413f53970b</id>
        <published>2013-05-16T20:56:50+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-16T20:58:17+02:00</updated>
        <summary>French Husband's childhood friends came to visit us. They are motorcyclists too. When they were here we asked them what they wanted to do... and music to my ears they said, "...go to a brocante." Yeah, they are French and brocantes are everywhere, even in Brittany where they live. But when you have the brocante bug you have the bug even on vacation. Plus, the Provence offers different old things... or at least better prices they claimed. Pull my leg, drag me... ha... off we went to hunt the brocantes. As usual, whenever I take someone along to the brocantes, they find a million and one things... and when my friends ask me to ask the dealer for a price, it never fails: The dealer announces a price so low that I kind of grow green and shake my head and say to myself "Why? Dang!" Lucky ducks my friends. French Husband's childhood friends found and bought more than their motorcycle could carry. I wasn't surprised. Whenever people come to visit, it seems they buy more than their suitcases, motorcycle or container can carry. Hence two candlesticks are living in my shed alongside of Lynn's frames, Nicol's urn, Mary's stack of linens, Katie's mirror... I don't dare to bring them into the house in fear they might take up residences.</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Brocante" />
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="French Antiques" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c411b62970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Candlesticks on a motorcycle" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c411b62970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c411b62970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Candlesticks on a motorcycle" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>French Husband's childhood friends came to visit us. They are motorcyclists too. When they were here we asked them what they wanted to do... and music to my ears they said, "...go to a brocante." </p>
<p>Yeah, they are French and brocantes are everywhere, even in Brittany where they live. But when you have the brocante bug you have the bug even on vacation. Plus, the Provence offers different old things... or at least better prices they claimed.</p>
<p>Pull my leg, drag me... ha... off we went to hunt the brocantes.</p>
<p>As usual, whenever I take someone along to the brocantes, they find a million and one things... and when my friends ask me to ask the dealer for a price, it never fails: The dealer announces a price so low that I kind of grow green and shake my head and say to myself "Why? Dang!" Lucky ducks my friends.</p>
<p>French Husband's childhood friends found and bought more than their motorcycle could carry. I wasn't surprised. Whenever people come to visit, it seems they buy more than their suitcases, motorcycle or container can carry.</p>
<p>Hence two candlesticks are living in my shed alongside of Lynn's frames, Nicol's urn, Mary's stack of linens, Katie's mirror... I don't dare to bring them into the house in fear they might take up residences.</p>
<p> </p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Wednesday's Word: Tree Hugger...Un Embrasseur d'Arbres,</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/wednesdays-word-tree-huggerun-embrasseur-darbres.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/wednesdays-word-tree-huggerun-embrasseur-darbres.html" thr:count="25" thr:updated="2013-05-19T04:30:26+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022c39ed970c</id>
        <published>2013-05-15T20:40:22+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-15T20:40:22+02:00</updated>
        <summary>Ten minutes on foot from our home, there is a wild and wonderful forest. The Huveaune river weaves through it. When I need to breath, to let my thoughts unwind... to let my inner child/spirit feel her way my feet know where to lead. I am not afraid to dance in the forest. The river, the birds... nature's song roots me. Chelsea and I went for a twilight walk in the forest. It never fails to offer us a moment of mysterious wonder. As Chelsea said, "We could be in a faraway forest... who would believe this is in our backyard?" We brought our cameras with us. Chelsea ran alongside of the river. Her spirit soared, mine absorbed. The birds' song as evening fell was utterly tender. Their music takes me by the hand far and yet so near. I love when I feel transported, yet don't move. On another note... This speaking in French thing was at first a challenge because I didn't feel myself when I spoke. But the more I do it the easier it is... except for when someone I know comes along and speaks English to me. Then I do not know what language I am speaking. I say French words instead of English ones, and English ones sound French. I never spoke French to my children when they were living at home, simply so they would be bi lingual. And they are. So when Chelsea came home and I spoke French to her, she waved her finger at me and said, "Oh no you don't!" she laughed, "It is a mental twister to go back and forth, and in and out of conversation isn't it?" It is ridiculously hard for me to speak English to Chelsea, while I am speaking French to Yann, as he speaks French to Chelsea and most the time English to me. By the end of the day I don't know if I am speaking French, English or Chinese! We could barely see our way home... but we didn't care, we know the way by heart. I asked French Husband, "How do you say, "Tree Hugger" in French?" Yann is growing accustom to my speaking only in French, and most the time he speaks back to me in French. Hugh leap on his part. He answered, "Un Embrasseur d'Arbres." Then I asked, "Do you say "Femme Naturelle" for a natural...</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Wednesday Word: Parlez-Vous" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022bb27b970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tree Hugger...Un Embrasseur d'Arbres" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022bb27b970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022bb27b970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Tree Hugger...Un Embrasseur d'Arbres" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>Ten minutes on foot from our home, there is a wild and wonderful forest. The Huveaune river weaves through it.</p>
<p>When I need to breath, to let my thoughts unwind... to let my inner child/spirit feel her way my feet know where to lead. </p>
<p>I am not afraid to dance in the forest. The river, the birds... nature's song roots me.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb332745970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tree Hugger...Un Embrasseur d'Arbres" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb332745970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb332745970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Tree Hugger...Un Embrasseur d'Arbres" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chelsea and I went for a twilight walk in the forest. It never fails to offer us a moment of mysterious wonder. As Chelsea said, "We could be in a faraway forest... who would believe this is in our backyard?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb333b9a970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Running along side of the river" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb333b9a970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb333b9a970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Running along side of the river" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>We brought our cameras with us.</p>
<p>Chelsea ran alongside of the river.</p>
<p>Her spirit soared, mine absorbed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c35b83f970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="In the forest" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c35b83f970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c35b83f970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="In the forest" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The birds' song as evening fell was utterly tender. Their music takes me by the hand far and yet so near. I love when I feel transported, yet don't move.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb336c5d970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Standing in the forest" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb336c5d970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb336c5d970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Standing in the forest" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>On another note... This speaking in French thing was at first a challenge because I didn't feel myself when I spoke. But the more I do it the easier it is... except for when someone I know comes along and speaks English to me. Then I do not know what language I am speaking. I say French words instead of English ones, and English ones sound French. </p>
<p>I never spoke French to my children when they were living at home, simply so they would be bi lingual. And they are. So when Chelsea came home and I spoke French to her, she waved her finger at me and said, "Oh no you don't!" she laughed, "It is a mental twister to go back and forth, and in and out of conversation isn't it?"</p>
<p>It is ridiculously hard for me to speak English to Chelsea, while I am speaking French to Yann, as he speaks French to Chelsea and most the time English to me. By the end of the day I don't know if I am speaking French, English or Chinese!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><a href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c35a321970b-pi"><img alt="Tree Hugger" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c35a321970b-400wi" title="Tree Hugger" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>We could barely see our way home... but we didn't care, we know the way by heart. </p>
<p>I asked French Husband, "How do you say, "Tree Hugger" in French?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb335cfe970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Tree hugger in France" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb335cfe970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb335cfe970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Tree hugger in France" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yann is growing accustom to my speaking only in French, and most the time he speaks back to me in French. Hugh leap on his part. He answered, "Un Embrasseur d'Arbres."</p>
<p>Then I asked, "Do you say "Femme Naturelle" for a natural woman?"</p>
<p>"I think so," as he shook his head yes. I continued in French:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c363346970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Happy as a bird" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c363346970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c363346970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Happy as a bird" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>"How do you call someone who likes to hug trees, who is organic, who daydreams of being a bird... you know someone who wants to be in tune with nature?"</p>
<p>His eyes twinkled when he said, <em>"Crazy!"</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022c35f0970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Happy" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022c35f0970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022c35f0970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Happy" /></a><br /><br /></p>
<p>With that I laughed. </p>
<p>And came back to earth safe and sound. </p>
<p>Though French Husband doubts "sound" is a word that corresponds with my thinking.</p></div>
</content>



    </entry>
    <entry>
        <title>Savoring the Taste that is Only Provence</title>
        <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/savoring-the-taste-that-is-only-provence.html" />
        <link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/2013/05/savoring-the-taste-that-is-only-provence.html" thr:count="28" thr:updated="2013-05-16T02:40:52+02:00" />
        <id>tag:typepad.com,2003:post-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022074f6970c</id>
        <published>2013-05-14T16:49:22+02:00</published>
        <updated>2013-05-14T16:49:22+02:00</updated>
        <summary>At last spring waltzes in. Provence during spring is extra lovely. Roses climb, blooming wildly against the shutters. The days stay light pass dinner time, allowing an evening walk to hear the sound of the owl cooing her lover. The parks fill full, the sound of iron balls clashes, dusty shoes, sunglasses, dogs sleeping in the welcoming sunshine. The new green ivy, sprucing up the old darker green. Nature's texture adding strokes of vivid color. Patchwork comfort against old walls. Brocantes everywhere, every weekend, roll a dice pick one and go. Late afternoon the cafes and bars spill out onto the sidewalk, men in tee shirts play cards, shooting the breeze with graceful ease, enjoying a moment of what is to come... summer living. Savoring the taste that is only Provence! The plane trees unbutton their winter coats, waving their green flags. A welcome canopy. Come walk with me. Is there nothing better than to sit at a outdoor cafe and look up? Poppies need I say more? Oh those ruby red kisses! The most joyous blush. Ruins go into hiding. Covered with over growth. Provence, the doors opens wide, spring waltzes in... along with flies, and the occasional cat. The grape vines tease... The joy of living in Provence is the gift of nature at hand, to be able to witness the unveiling of another fruitful season... leaves uncurl, petals by petal bloom, wheat shaft, almond branch robed in pink, last year's rosé uncorked. How is spring unfolding where you live?</summary>
        <author>
            <name>Tongue in Cheek</name>
        </author>
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Living in France" />
        <category scheme="http://www.sixapart.com/ns/types#category" term="Travel" />
        
        
<content type="xhtml" xml:lang="en-US" xml:base="http://willows95988.typepad.com/tongue_cheek/">
<div xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"><p><a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191021ffea4970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Red roses" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191021ffea4970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191021ffea4970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Red roses" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>At last spring waltzes in. Provence during spring is extra lovely. Roses climb, blooming wildly against the shutters. The days stay light pass dinner time, allowing an evening walk to hear the sound of the owl cooing her lover.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a1e3d970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Boules in the park france" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a1e3d970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a1e3d970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Boules in the park france" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The parks fill full, the sound of iron balls clashes, dusty shoes, sunglasses, dogs sleeping in the welcoming sunshine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a086f970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Ivy growing over the wall" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a086f970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a086f970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Ivy growing over the wall" /></a></p>
<p>The new green ivy, sprucing up the old darker green.</p>
<p>Nature's texture adding strokes of vivid color.</p>
<p>Patchwork comfort against old walls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb27887b970d-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Brocantes everywhere" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb27887b970d" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2017eeb27887b970d-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Brocantes everywhere" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/3836534967/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=tongueinche04-20&amp;camp=0&amp;creative=0&amp;linkCode=as1&amp;creativeASIN=3836534967&amp;adid=0GRMW5QEJCXB261G987F" target="_self" title="living in provence">Brocantes everywhere</a>, every weekend, roll a dice pick one and go.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a0cd0970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Modern bar france" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a0cd0970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a0cd0970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Modern bar france" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Late afternoon the cafes and bars spill out onto the sidewalk, men in tee shirts play cards, shooting the breeze with graceful ease, enjoying a moment of what is to come... summer living.</p>
<p><a href="http://www.amazon.com/dp/1449427510/ref=as_li_qf_sp_asin_til?tag=tongueinche04-20&amp;camp=0&amp;creative=0&amp;linkCode=as1&amp;creativeASIN=1449427510&amp;adid=0TYXYQB14DEJ66GCCKX9" target="_self" title="savoring the taste that is only Provence">Savoring the taste that is only Provence!</a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102200c86970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Under the Plaintains" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102200c86970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102200c86970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Under the Plaintains" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>The <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uu-m2F1vM-U" target="_self" title="plane trees">plane trees</a> unbutton their winter coats, waving their green flags.</p>
<p>A welcome canopy.</p>
<p>Come walk with me.</p>
<p>Is there nothing better than to sit at a outdoor cafe and look up? </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a36fe970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Poppy fields" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a36fe970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a36fe970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Poppy fields" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Poppies need I say more?</p>
<p>Oh those ruby red kisses!</p>
<p>The most joyous blush.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022032d6970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Ivy covered ruin" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022032d6970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e20191022032d6970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Ivy covered ruin" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Ruins go into hiding.</p>
<p>Covered with over growth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102202317970c-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Open door" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102202317970c" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e2019102202317970c-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Open door" /></a></p>
<p> </p>
<p>Provence, the doors opens wide, spring waltzes in...</p>
<p>along with flies, and the occasional cat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
<a class="asset-img-link" href="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a174e970b-pi" style="display: inline;"><img alt="Vineyards in Provence" class="asset  asset-image at-xid-6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a174e970b" src="http://willows95988.typepad.com/.a/6a00d83451cb9a69e201901c2a174e970b-400wi" style="width: 400px;" title="Vineyards in Provence" /></a></p>
<p>The grape vines tease... </p>
<p>The joy of living in Provence is the gift of nature at hand, to be able to witness the unveiling of another fruitful season... leaves uncurl, petals by petal bloom, wheat shaft, almond branch robed in pink, last year's rosé uncorked.</p>
<p>How is spring unfolding where you live?</p></div>
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