Understanding What I Love.
"I
don't understand how you can give up your car ,
your house,
your job and
everything else to live in a
tiny apartment in Paris."
my mother complains.
I
try to explain:

"I love
the corner
cafe where I go
to have
coffee, lunch,
read a
book, and
people watch.
The guys who work there are
so friendly." I
explain.

"I love
the fresh fruit and
vegetable market around the corner..."

"and
the men in
the orange
aprons seem to understand my French a
little better each month,
although they still laugh as
they correct me." I
add to my explanation.
I've never touched the fresh fish, but
it's nice to know it's there if I
ever decide to try it!

"I love
the smell of fresh roasted chickens, and
the friendly butcher who's always very patient
with my French."

I
try to explain how comforting it is to know the young man
at the Fromagerie
knows me as "
The American girl
who likes Cheddar Cheese."
He assures me
with a
friendly smile,
the cheese will always be there waiting for me
when I
return.

I
even love
the temptation of the boulangerie...and
now they have
cookies!
Still,
she doesn't understand what I love and I
can't explain it and
better.
All the things you described that you love are not material things, ie; cars, house, etc, but a way of life. You love living the life in Paris. Wonderful!!
ReplyDeleteParis is just magical. You have to feel it to believe it. Invite your mum over, she'll soon see : )
ReplyDelete