It's Me, Sara Louise

{I don’t have anymore apples to give you!}

I interrupt this regularly scheduled program of ‘my birthday weekend in Avignon’ to bring you these snippets of my life here lately in The LPV.

++ See that pretty brown guy up there? That’s my new buddy Aero, he belongs to my friend Martine (Martine is from Ireland and lives just around the corner from Le Petit Village. She likes Barry Tea and rugby so naturally, I like her). The other guy in the back there is Flurry. Flurry is fuzzy like a bunny and has a funny little moustache. They’re both precious and I can’t wait to introduce them to La Petite (I will not however be introducing them to Fifty. I’m pretty sure Fifty would have a canary of epic proportions.)

++ Last Sunday was pâté making day at Papa’s house. And unlike last time, we ate lunch before getting down to all of that gooey, gross business. Which was smart, because 1. it’s hard to have an appetite after pâté making and 2. I made Nutella Brownie Bites for dessert that were so scrumptious, they were like angel kisses from heaven dipped in chocolate and wrapped in love.

++ This conversation between Gatz and The Husband actually happened… Gatz asked; “All the girls are crazy about Ryan Gosling, I don’t understand.” To which The Husband replied; “Have you looked at him?” I love my husband.

++ And in another, ‘I can’t believe this actually happened‘ moment… Child Bride pointed to the picture of Channing Tatum on the cover of the Magic Mike DVD and said that Brother-in-Law’s body was almost exactly like that. The Husband and I are still laughing.

++ We’ve finally started watching Homeland (I know, I know, we’re way behind… so shhh your mouth… I don’t want to know ANYTHING). The funny thing is, one of my birthday presents from The Husband was the box set of My So-Called Life (except in France it’s called, Angela, 15 ans) and now I’m having one doozy of a time trying to convince The Husband that Angela and Carrie are indeed the same person.

++ Something amazing is happening! At this very moment, Girl Scout cookies are on their way to Le Petit Village… GIRL SCOUT COOKIES! My excuse for indulging was that I would introduce The Husband to the quintessential American goodness of the Girl Scout cookie, but now, I’m pretty sure I’m going to hoard them like Gollum and keep them all to myself (INSERT MANIACAL LAUGH HERE).

++ The Harlem Shake made the news here a few nights ago. Afterwards, The Husband stared at me for a couple of minutes basically asking me “why” as if by purely being American, I would somehow have the answer to this question. How would I know, I’m not Yoda.

bisou