Yesterday morning I broke a piece of baguette and smeared it with French butter and then soft ripe cheese and then topped it with local honey, it was sublime. I’m drinking small cups of espresso, forgoing the tall American coffee, and usually indulging again at half past three.
Second son’s girlfriend says le vin rosé is like water, and you know how you’re supposed to get in eight full glasses of that.
Booie asked me where the pantry is in the kitchen and I replied, ‘no pantry, we buy what we need and will use on the daily’.
We started with a party of six, grew to eight and then ten, and now back to eight, and on Thursday we will be five. We’ve been gone three plus weeks now, on holiday with really nothing to do, simply enjoying one another’s company in this beautiful country of France. We are blessed, and the husband is the triple gold star.
I’ve been cooking as most times we prefer staying in and accustoming myself with an electric cooktop and an oven I don’t understand, but that’s okay. Everything makes me think, even the every day run to the market where I have to navigate the carts, and the checkout.
The first half of the trip I was fairly disciplined with the workout routine and now as we’re getting ready to head home, I’m savoring every lazy hour of undriven bliss.
We’ve been eating and drinking in France, and that’s a very good thing. All photos here by Maxwell Collins, on Instagram @maxyny.