Since moving to Le Petit Village I’ve been snap happy. Not as much as I should have be of course, there are plenty of moments I’ve missed out capturing because I was too busy living with my normal head, and not with my blogging head (bloggers, you know what I’m talking about). But still, I’m rarely without my camera and everyone knows it (Mrs. London even said that she’s happy I’ve been recording all of this so that later on when she’s in the old folks home, she can look back at my blog and remember who she was and what she got up to… you’re welcome Mrs. London). So since I’ve taken approximately 73628494 photos (total guesstimate of course) in the last three and a half years, I’ve decided to share some of my favorites. A couple of things to note; 1. this will be a series and 2. some of these may be new to you, some may not be.
Disclaimer: the following photos were actually taken when I came to Le Petit Village on holiday almost exactly four years ago from today. My how time flies.
When I visited Le Petit Village on holiday, we went to one of Gregory’s cousin’s weddings outside of Saint-Rémy-de-Provence. I like this photo because of little Rico Suave in the sunglasses behind the bride. That kid is like eight and he’s already got his swerve on. I will never be as cool as that kid. Fact.
What’s one of the first words you think of when you think of Provence? Lavender, right? Where there you go.
This was the day after I met Ruby
. I liked him so much that Gregory asked Papa if we could take him for a walk. Ruby wasn’t used to being ‘walked’ because Ruby has always walked himself. Even though he kept looking at me like I was a crazy lady for attaching this long rope to him, we loved each other pretty much immediately and he’s still my top dog today (shhh… not counting Fifty
). I worry about Ruby, he’s knocking on thirteen now which is old for a Porcelaine and he looks it. He has arthritis and and has grown quite ornery in his old age, but he still lovingly bays at me whenever I go to see him.
The view from Le Petit Village when the lavender is in full bloom… this is my ‘pinch me I’m dreaming’ photo.
This was Gregory’s little house and then my first home in Le Petit Village. It had a screen door which is rare here, it’s the only one I’ve seen around these parts. Also, those flowers died about five minutes after I returned to Dublin.
Gregory and Baby Cousin in Baby Cousin’s shop in Avignon. I love this photo because Baby Cousin had opened up his shop only a few months before at the young age of 25, and four years later, the shop is thriving. Plus, how cool is the shop’s ‘sneaker room’? I want a sneaker room, or better yet a shoe room. No, scratch that, make it a Louboutin room.
I took this photo the very first time I saw Le Palais des Papes. I remember walking through a small street and then into a large courtyard, looking up and seeing it looming over me. I was stunned. Absolutely stunned. I immediately phoned my father in Massachusetts to tell him where I was standing. Him being a Reverend, Theologian, and Historian, I knew he would appreciate the call and be excited for me even if it was dumb o’clock in the morning his time. It breaks my heart that he didn’t live long enough to come and visit me and see the Pope’s Palace for himself. Oh well, next life I guess.
Happy memory photo alert… this was my first bottle of Rosé ever (the first of approximately 39473839). Gregory had taken me to Aix-en-Provence for the day (my first time there too) and we ordered this bottle of pink with lunch. Sitting there on Cours Mirabeau with Gregory in the July sunshine sipping the cool Provencal Rosé, I reached the pinnacle of happiness and knew that this was truly where I wanted to be. Of course I ended up in Le Petit Village and not in Aix, but close enough.
We were driving back to Le Petit Village from Aix and passed these ruins of a castle
. Being French and basically immune to stuff like this, Gregory was completely blasé about the whole thing, me on the other hand threw a fit until he stopped the car so I could take a look. I mean there it was, this amazing piece of old architecture just there, in a village, with people milling about barely even noticing. I was blown away and I remember thinking to myself, “holy sh**, I’m in France
.” I still think that sometimes.
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