Why France?

It’s been established – I love France.  

You may wonder, “Why France?” I’ve loved this place forever. Speak French. Traveled all over the country. Lived here for four years when our daughter was very young. And that time overseas set the foundation for our family’s rhythm and way of being – and for me, it feels like a part of my soul. Things that would bother other people, delight me. The language is a puzzle and a game to me. Really, it’s everything.  

I invite you into my stream of consciousness about the France I know and love. Could have gone on and on – had to cut myself off. Enjoy –

Tall windows, long drapes…Bathtubs without curtains so you spray the water all over in clumsy American fashion…Press stands with 7000 newspapers and magazine happily living together in perfect order…Hearing French….Multiple espressos per day…Crowded cafes with rows of 2-tops and guests conspiratorially leaning in to talk with one another…Subway stops every 4 blocks and trains that come every 3-5 minutes…The compact size of the heart of the city…The density of beautiful stores…And the prices displayed next to merchandise in the window – so you know whether you can actually afford to enter or not…The fact that whenever I put an address in my google maps, it tells me that it will take me 20 minutes by subway and 20 minutes to walk – so I walk.  The people…The 80-year old woman in heels getting on her bike in front of my grocery store to pedal home…Everything about the thrice-weekly outdoor market, including the long line for the best cheese merchant…The lack of yellow traffic lights – you never know when your time will be up…Disdainful looks from locals if I happen to dance a little on the street…Disdainful looks from locals when I wear running clothes as I make my way to the park (should I change at the park?)…Disdainful looks if I talk too loud or laugh too heartily – as Americans might do…I love all of it…Reading French…The pastel-toned boutique called “Desolee Papa” (translation: “Sorry, Dad”) – that looks like an upscale spa and is, in fact, a tattoo parlor…The dog sitting next to me on a chair in the cafe, looking almost like he was checking his cell as he listened to his owner’s conversation…Speaking French…Wine with lunch – because “it’s more respectful to the food”…The big clunky old-fashioned keys…The obsession with scarves – because ‘you catch cold through the neck’…The bookstores with shelves of paperbacks all with the same simple white cover…The secret doors – on a French street you never know what is behind the giant colored doors…The place in the corner of the Luxembourg Gardens where fruit trees are grown and tended to – trained on wires for particular shapes of pear and apple varieties from the 17th century…Yoga in French…Sometimes I was up when they were down…Pate Feuillete Chocolat – if you love baguette more than croissants, like me, then this is your dream come true (go to La Parisienne, rue Madame)…Lemon tarts- because finding the perfect tartness makes a fun quest…Stick with the exquisite lemon beauty at Cyril Lignac’s Chocolaterie on rue Dragon, a chic patisserie on my street…Flower shops – fresh flowers are everywhere and spilling out onto the streets…Some even carry small lemon trees – I might be obsessed with lemons…I have a dream of owning a lemon tree – I will make it real 🙂