Wednesday, July 27, 2011

7 Links

It's a brilliant day. Not only did Backyard Provence nominate me for the 7 Links Project, but  A Seasonal Cook in Turkey did too. Brilliant, since I haven't been doing much of anything to report on. I'm not quite '100%' yet, I'm like '79%'. Not failing, but not even a B and that's not acceptable. So getting nominated by these two is fantastic, thanks guys.

The 7 Links Project is where, "bloggers publish 7 links from their blog to share lessons learned and create a bank of long but not forgotten blog posts that deserve to see the light of day again."

I can do that.

(FYI: the topics came along with the nomination)

My most beautiful post: Well that would have to be this post entitled; The Husband. Why? Because it's all about The Husband and he's so pretty, that's why. 

My most popular post: What do you think makes a post more popular? More hits, or more comments? I can't decide, so we'll do both (I'm feeling extravagant). My most popular post by hits is Midnight Time To Wake Up, which is weird, because; 1) it only got 13 comments, and 2) it has only recently shot up in hits and it's a big ol' mystery to me as to why (like everyday it's getting more hits than everything else... weird, no?). So I've been looking into it, trying to figure out why, and there are a few referring sites in my stats that are Russian and have a bunch of Viagra info on them. WTF? I don't think it's a coincidence. Maybe 'Midnight Time To Wake Up' is some sort of Russian euphemism for you know, waking up... down there. Moving on. By comments, the most popular is Shattered. The post all about having all my china and Waterford broken. Just writing that depresses me (but what doesn't depress me is all the sweet support you guys gave me... thank you).  

My most controversial post: Um, not too sure, because what I may think of as being controversial, you may think is totally tame. Plus, I don't really do controversial, I like to keep Le Petit Village a light hearted, easy breezy kind of place, because heaven knows, the world is controversial enough on it's own, it certainly doesn't need any help from yours truly.  That said, I'm picking two again (re: extravagant); Inappropriate which was about the time The Husband got hit on by his doctor (because he's so pretty), and Strike, because a couple of commentators got a little persnickety with each other. So yeah, I guess that one was kind of controversial (completely unintentional on my part). 

My most helpful post: That would definitely have to be; This Award Could Save Your Life, which is full of survival tips if you ever find yourself stuck in Le Petit Village. I wish I had read it before moving here. Of course, that would have been impossible (impossible without a DeLorean and 1.21 gigawatts anyway).

A post whose success surprises me:  All of them. I know that's kind of cheating, but it's true. I'm continually amazed that people read my inane ramblings. But, so as not to be a cheater, the one that surprised me the most was when my father passed away.  The outpouring of support astonished me and made me feel truly blessed. I'm going to say thank you again, to all of you for that. And that's all I'm going to say because otherwise I'll get all mushy and that's not how I want to start my day. Next.
(Sidebar: comment wise this was clearly the most 'popular' but it would be kind of tacky to keep it in the running.)

A post I feel didn’t get the attention it deserved: I am going to be bold and cheat here, because they've all gotten plenty of attention. If one person other than my mother (or The Husband, when I make him) reads/ comments on a post, it's gotten plenty of attention, and more than I ever thought it would have when I started this blog.

The post I am most proud of: Sticking to the 'I'm feeling extravagant theme'... I'm going with two again; Learning By Osmosis, because it was my very first post, and I'm proud that I actually did something I said I was going to do, i.e.; start a blog. And the guest post I did over at Misadventures With Andi. I'm particularly proud of this, because Andi had asked me to write it, and I had a couple of weeks to do so, but in the meantime my dad had gotten sick and I was a bit distracted (and procrastinating). But then my dad took a turn for the worst, and I pretty much knew that he was leaving me, and I would be hopping a plane to the states, so the morning he passed (like three hours before I got the call), I sat down and I wrote it. I was really proud of me for getting it done, considering. And I think it came out pretty good.  

I got mushy again.

In Love With San Diego

In My World...

Misadventures With Andi

Stranded in Cleveland

You Say Potato, I Say Vodka

you have been nominated


P.S. I promise that I will have more interesting stuff to post about soon, because there's interesting things afoot. Oh yes, yes there are. 

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

still a little icky

Have you ever rushed being sick thinking that if you act all normal and better, then you'll feel all normal and better? I have. That's what I did this weekend, because I'm super clever. I oh so wisely told myself that my virus was gone and I headed out for the day. Stupid girl. By late Sunday afternoon I had melted back into the couch and haven't moved much since. You would think that at my age I would know better, but I don't.

So since I'm a tad icky still, and a little low on energy, I bring you this post of photos of no real significance. Please enjoy.

This is The Husband's chocolate milk. Nothing exciting here, I just happen to like that The Husband drinks these little bottles clearly made for children. They look so dainty in his hands. 


See the grasshopper? He (I've decided it's a he) invaded my dining room one afternoon while I was having my French lesson and he hung out there all day. Seriously, like all day. It was rather unnerving. But he seemed to really like that bottle of whiskey he's perched on. I've heard of bar flies but never bar grasshoppers. 

And here's La Petite doing her Muhammad Ali impersonation. 
I love babysitting. I'm awesome at it. 


Friday, July 22, 2011

it's not fair

Getting sick in the summertime has got to be one of the cruelest things to happen (I'm obviously exaggerating... famine in Somalia, now that's cruel, I'm still a lucky duck, virus and all). Like why couldn't I have been sick on Tuesday when the heavens had opened and buckets of rain were lashing down all over Provence? No, I have to be sick after the rain, when the sun is bright and the sky is blue.

This is me, sicky icky...

I've been staring at Fifty's fur piling up on the floor because I don't have the energy to vacuum. If I open the window with Le Mistral blowing, I can act like I'm Forrest Gump, watching that feather float away, except the feather is a big chunk of Fifty's fur. I swear if he keeps this up, he's going to need some Rogaine. And also, for any of you dog owners out there, are your dogs little piggy wiggies when they eat? Because Fifty likes to get the food in his mouth, step away from his bowl, and then chew, with his mouth open and let crumbs fall to the floor all around him. It's gross. And then sometimes, afterwords, he'll look at you, and burp... loudly. Double gross. And you don't even want to see him drink water, it's like Niagara Falls off the sides of his mouth. Do you think there might be etiquette classes for dogs?

I've been spending some time with the new TV that was delivered this week. It's great because our old TV was big, and not in the good way (like big in the clunky, old way). Brokeback Mountain was on (in English with French subtitles, thank you very much, because after seven months, I've finally figured out that little trick on Canal+... can I get a H A L L E L U J A H !). That movie was intense, and weird, and I found myself laughing at parts I probably shouldn't have been laughing at (I'm very mature). But I thought Anne Hathaway was killer. Loved her red cowgirl hat. Every girl needs a red cowgirl hat.

And I've discovered the joys of Million Dollar Decorators (on my laptop, not Canal+). To quote Martyn, "Decorating is Delicious". Although I don't know what I'm talking about, I don't have a delicious, decorating bone in my body.

When not watching sexually confused cowboys and delicious decorators, I've been reading Captains and the Kings which even though I'm enjoying, I'm not tearing through. Which is strange, feels like I've been reading it F O R E V E R. Has that ever happened to you?

And, can you believe it, The Circus has returned (I'm guessing the same one from last year). But I can't go, because it's only here for one day, and I'm sick. It's not fair. But if my dad was still alive you know what he'd say? He'd say, "Fair? Fare is something you pay to get on the bus".

And that's that. 


Wednesday, July 20, 2011

a spoonful of sugar


Looks like Ruby (aka Prince Phillip) has taken over babysitting duties for La Petite. He's like a male (and a dog, duh) version of Mary Poppins. All impeccable manners, and benevolent dictatorship rolled into one. If La Petite ends up speaking with a BBC English accent, color me, 'not surprised'. 


Sunday, July 17, 2011

the long weekend

Last weekend was a long one here. La Fête Nationale (Bastille Day to you and me) was Thursday and The Husband had Friday off too. Extra long weekends mean a trip to Auvergne to see French Mommy. It went a little something like this:

... 5am; time to hit the road because no traffic is awesomesauce.
... finding Vitamin Water at some truck stop along the way is like winning the lottery (a small lottery, but a mini jackpot nonetheless). I bought six. Score.
... 11am arrival at French Nana's bar.
... beef tongue for the husband, steak and frites for me (this is becoming a bit of a tradition).
... Cantal for The Husband, Bleu d'Auvergne for me.
... r e l a x 
... visit my friends in the cellar  
... bed.

... play tourist
... go to the park

... r e l a x 
... bed. 

... visit French Mommy at work 
... put these booties on for cleanliness
... feel stupid in booties
... lunch with French Mommy. Fish for her, duck for me, tripe for The Husband, because he always finds it necessary to order the yuckiest thing on the menu. 
... r e l a x 
... bed. 

... said goodbye to French Nana
... hit the road

à bientôt


Friday, July 15, 2011

Last Saturday

First of all, I need to begin this post with an announcement, one that I've been dreading to make. All of you ladies may want to sit down.
(and please, try to remain calm and resist the urge to riot).

Honey Jr has a girlfriend. 

There, I said it. 

That's her. 

Try not to hate her, she's actually really nice, and fun. 
And I can get her to pose for pictures for me like this, 

see, fun. 

And after a very shaky start, Fifty now likes her too. 
So that should say something. 

Moving on. 

Honey Jr BBQ'd and La Petite was there chilling with her giraffe. 
Never leave home without a giraffe, it's the summer accessory. 

The Husband was there of course and I wrapped a little bit of Texas around his beer to keep it chilled and him chillin.  


See, chillin. 

But Fifty wasn't there, he wasn't invited. And I guess he wasn't happy about this because he jumped out of the window and hung out on the ledge of our roof for a bit until The Husband climbed up and got him off. Sorry I don't have any photos, but you know, I was busy trying to distract my dog from committing harikari.

And let's see, what else... oh... I got another mosquito bite on my face. So now I have a matching pair. It is a known fact that if there is a mosquito within a five mile radius of me, it will hunt me down and bite me. Mosquito bites are always my summer accessory. It's like "hey guys, does this top match my bites?"

So yeah, that was Saturday.  To sum up; Honey Jr has a girlfriend, Fifty jumped out the window (and may have been tring to commit harikari due to either 1) his lack of BBQ invite or 2) his jealousy of a certain girlfriend), and I now have two mosquito bites on my face instead of one.

Not very exciting, is it? But what is exciting is that I'm currently at French Mommy's for the weekend, stuffed full of Auvergne cheese and totally spoiled.


Tuesday, July 12, 2011

c'est pas cher!

This is a snippet of a conversation that I had with The Husband Friday night in anticipation of our Saturday morning trip to Aix for L E S  S O L D E S (to be yelled Oprah style) ...

Me:  "are you sure the stores open at 9?"

The Husband: "yes"


It would have been great if they did because there was like practically no one walking around Aix when we arrived at 9am. But by a few minutes before 10am, there was like, twenty women outside Zara. Not a problem though, because as I approached Zara after having the worst café au lait ever (do not order a café au lait from La Croissanterie, seriously, don't, it's horrible) I walked right up and right in just as the doors opened. Perfect timing.

And in 23 minutes (I know it was 23 minutes because The Husband timed me) I walked out with this sweater...

Which I obviously won't be wearing for a couple of months because it's hot as Hades at the moment.

And this skirt...

Which I'm pretty sure I'm going to wear on my flight to Texas in six weeks (I like to plan these things), and two pairs of shorts and a green striped t-shirt all for the low low price of €66. 

C ' E S T   P A S   C H E R!

And after a trip to American Apparel (bikini), Zara Home (sheets, bathmat, picture frame for the most adorable photo of The Husband and French Mommy when he was 18 months... seriously, he was the cutest kid), and H&M (two t-shirts for The Husband), we hightailed it back to Le Petit Village. Honey Jr was having a BBQ and we were bringing the ice cream (you'd think that all we do in Le Petit Village is sit around in the sun bbq-ing wouldn't you... well it's true... that's pretty much what we do. Except in winter. Winter here sucks).

And you know I'm going to tell you

all about the rest of my weekend. 

You know it.



Thursday, July 7, 2011

over in a flash

Today you can find me here over at my friend, Ami's blog, Fit With Flash.
And after that, you should stick around and check out Ami's other posts; she's very witty, and she's very pretty, and very fit. (she's really freaking fit).

That blog name is no joke. 

I'm off to jog.


summer inspiration

Inspiration (not to be confused with perspiration which can be a bit difficult at the moment because oh my god it's hot) is; the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, according to Thanks Mr. Dictionary (or Mrs, pardon my sexism). 
Beth from In My World  has passed on this Inspiration Award and I'm flattered. I like inspiration (perspiration, not so much). 

The rules of this one are a little different... no secrets of me required (aw shucks, right), I'm only to pass the award on to ten (10!) blogs that I find inspirational. But you know how I like to change things up, so I'm going to tell you about a few things that I am finding inspirational this summer.

*Aidan from Conjugating Irregular Verbs,  and B from Is There Such a Thing As Too Much Cheese, visiting me, and soon Charley from 365 Things I Love About France. You got to love it when blogs come alive and collide. Plus thanks to all the practice, I've got mad skills in the Le Petit Village tour giving department

*Dining on the terrace every night with The Husband is pretty great. Except it can be annoying when Honey Jr is outside too and The Husband insists on talking to him. It's like hey, I'm trying to have a little romance here. But whatever, it's still lovely and I can't complain. 

*Les soldes! Let's say it again... L E S  S O L D E S ! 
The annual summer sale here is a big deal and I love it. And get this, the huffing and puffiness that is The Husband is actually OK with shopping les soldes. Even though I've already scored two tops from Banana Republic, a dress from Gap and one  from Mango online, (sure they're not part of the French solde but they were on sale and that's all that matters) we're going to Aix on Saturday to shop. Only to shop, it's the sole purpose of our trip, and The Husband told me that he's looking forward to it! (hold on... a pig just flew by my window). I love L E S  S O L D E S! (screaming 'les soldes' like that makes me feel like Oprah... it's an awesome feeling).  

So there you go... blogging friends visiting, dining à deux outside with The Husband (when not being interrupted by Honey Jr), and shopping, all have me feeling pretty inspired this summer. 

Now for the blogs that I find inspirational. 
(and look at me playing by the rules and listing all ten)
(but I'm going to cheat a little bit and use the blog author's own descriptions of themselves... because I'm feeling lazing... and it's best if I save my energy for les soldes).

{long distance loving} a twenty-something, newlywed who loves her husband, family, friends, running, J.Crew, JIF peanut butter, and the Hoyas. I'm blogging to find ways to love from afar and to encourage those who are braving long distance. {We survived--and thrived--for three years!} I'm also a native midwesterner attempting to figure out New England while wearing glittery flats and a smile

A Beautiful Life a 30 ish SAHM to my 3 little peanuts. I am a former French teacher and a forever shopper for beautiful things.

Bourbon & Pearls The belief that living well is the best revenge. STYLE  GLAMOUR  FASHION BEAUTY served with a shot of humour.

City On A Hill Ed Ward's blog from Montpellier, France. Food, wine, travel, and unavoidably, the French. 

Fairy Tales are True Sarah Tucker, an American living in beautiful Switzerland. I was created to be an adventurer, gardener, documenter, photographer, and also to spend lots of time swimming in the deep blue sea and cooking in my tiny European kitchen. 

jennaventures Austin by way of Lexington to East Lansing to London to Chicago to Boston... I'm the type of person who makes conversations with strangers, on planes, at bus stops, in bars. Good-natured, blonde, funny, with just a hint of exaggeration... I also really love my cat Ari.

Living Out of the Box Personal notes from a woman learning to follow her bliss ... and finding it in the most unexpected places

Mellow Fever A fashion/beauty assistant at MORE magazine and a recent grad of Northwestern University. I've done web editing and production for Allure magazine's website,, and have written for various online publications, such as Prep Talk, Listicles and STITCH Fashion Feed. 

Small But Charming Floral designer by day, constant gardener, dog walker, chef, and voracious reader by night. I live in a small, but charming 918 sq.foot house with my partner and our dog (and a cranky cat but she's usually in the garden or the attic). The garden is packed with flowers, shrubs, fruit trees, berries, vegetables, friends and neighbors. It's a good life.

The Rich Life (on a budget) You don't have to have oodles of money to have a rich life. A rich life can be achieved by focusing on quality over quantity, experiences over things, simplicity over complication and appreciation over discontentment. It has taken me many years to figure out what my makes life happy, fulfilling and rich. And now I want to share it with you!

Now go forth and find inspiration.


Tuesday, July 5, 2011

The Husband's Birthday: Episode 4


In terms of worldwide coolness it pretty much goes like this;

Number 1. Snoop Dogg

Number 2. Mr Honey

F A C T.

The morning after the BBQ, I woke up a little after 8, bright eyed and bushy tailed (I'm not being sarcastic, being the hostess meant I drank more water than anything else. Sidenote:  I hate being the hostess). And The Husband got up too. He was not bright eyed and bushy tailed because it was almost 5 when he got to bed. That was after a 2am swim, and breaking up a fight between Honey Jr and Gatz sometime around 4. I know it was sometime around 4 because the yelling outside my window woke me up, and I stuck my head out and told The Husband to take care of it.
(For the record, he never starts fights, but he's awfully good at finishing them. And Gatz and Honey Jr were fighting about a girl. Such a cliché).
So about 5 he came to bed, and Honey Jr made Gatz sleep outside on his terrace (but there was a couch out there, so it's not like his punishment was that harsh).  

Back to waking up.

It was a gorgeous morning. All bright blue sky and blazing sunshine. We, as in we being; The Husband, Lovely Irish Friend, her boyfriend, Honey Jr, Gatz, and me, had coffee and juice on the terrace and being abnormally energetic, decided to go to the market in a nearby village.

So off we went after dropping off the massive number of empty beer and wine bottles at the recycling bank (really wish I could have gotten 5¢ a bottle) and we arrived at the market which from far away looked like this...

We stocked up on goodies from the boulangerie and headed to a friend's bar for some café. But it wasn't long before the café and croissants were finished and we were nibbling on saucisson sec and sipping Rosé (but I drank my Rosé with pamplemousse - or grapefruit juice - to make it more breakfasty).  

And I discovered something... 
market + sunshine + friends + Rosé with pamplemousse = perfect morning. 
It really does.
(And how fun is the word 'pamplemousse'?) 
(pamplemousse, pamplemousse, pamplemousse)
(love it)

But even though it was the perfect Sunday morning and I probably could have spent the whole day right there in that spot, we had to go, The Honeys had called and said they were coming over for lunch. Having lunch with The Honeys is pretty perfect too so I wasn't complaining. 

The Honeys arrived looking dapper in their sun hats, along with Honey B (Honey Jr's brother) and his wife, N, and we got comfortable on the terrace, where we stayed put for the whole day. Seriously, the whole day. We just sat there, chatting, laughing, eating, and drinking in the sun. The absolute perfect Sunday. The absolute perfect end to The Husband's birthday.  

And that was that.

It took me a full week to tell you about the weekend, 

because that's how long it took me to get over it. 

I'm so old.


Sunday, July 3, 2011

The Husband's Birthday: Episode 3

When we last left The Husband's Birthday, the boys had returned from the bar and one had fallen asleep at the ripe old hour of 7:15, (and got punished for it in the maturest of ways). What I didn't mention was that one boy was missing, Honey Jr.

Where, oh where could Honey Jr be?

And then we heard a horrible, grating noise...

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

Or is it Honey Jr pushing a barbecue grill across the village?

{uh, guys, a little help here}

Um, yeah, that last one. 

The boys had left him without any help and little Honey Jr pushed that grill all the way from Brother-in-Law's house (OK, it's not THAT far, but it is on the other side of the village).

{Me. Man. I make fire.}

Look at him get that fire going. Here in Le Petit Village, we don't use any fancy pants charcoal, no sireebob, we grill like cave men, with wood. (And Honey Jr was being all manly, snapping twigs branches in half on his knee, wish you could've seen it).

And then Honey Jr got to grilling.
(It kind of looks like he's DJing doesn't it? That boy does spend quite a bit of time in Ibiza.)

Meanwhile, on the other terrace...
(Honey Jr was BBQing on our terrace, everyone was hanging out on his)

We were all enjoying the beautiful summer evening and the smell of the fire wafting through the air. See above... that's my lovely Irish friend on the beanbag talking to no one in particular. And there's Child Bride, concentrating on her wine, Brother-in-Law, sticking a breadstick in Mrs Honey's Pina Colada, and Mrs Honey trying to figure out why. 

And here's my lovely Irish friend engaged in conversation with Child Bride and Brother-in-Law (she doesn't speak French, they don't speak English, but whatever), Mrs Honey happy to have her Pina Colada back, Gatz, fresh from his nap with a clean face and a new t-shirt (don't ask what happened to the other one) and the birthday boy himself, The Husband, overseeing it all, like the king he is. 
(he totally got that king comment because it's his birthday)

And then let's see...

blah blah blah


eat drink eat drink eat drink

And then sometime later in the evening this happened... 

Which looks crazy shady, but is actually quite innocent. It's The Husband and Gatz rugby tackling a sleeping Honey Jr and Brother-in-Law. 
(For the record, I have no idea why these two decided to take a catnap together around 11:00 when the BBQ was still in full swing. Sometimes it's best not to question these things.)

And that rugby tackle made Honey Jr's face do this...

Kind of looks like he's in pain, doesn't it? Once again, that's what you get for leaving the party early.

And then there's this photo, which I don't know how to explain so I'm not even going to try.

{Honey Jr - you will never be President}

But wait. 

There's more. 

Stayed tuned for Episode 4 coming up next.



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