My first spring in Le Petit Village. I had already gotten to experience summer, fall, and winter here but spring was the last. When we left France to go to the States to get married
, snow was on the ground, but when we returned, flowers were beginning to blossom and Le Petit Village began to wake from its winter slumber.
After a particularly snowy winter, it was nice to get out for long walks and feel the sun on our faces again. I’ve always liked this picture of Gregory, I’m not sure why especially since he looks a bit on the gruff side with the messy hair, stubble and toothpick hanging out of his mouth. But he is wearing the Texas hoodie I had gotten him for Christmas. And is it just me, or does Gregory look très Américain in this photo?
Every morning, before taking Fifty for one of his walks, Vicky
would come over and wait outside for us. Every morning. See, that’s her perched on the window ledge outside my old living room window. It was the sweetest thing. She was the sweetest thing. I really wish she would have been my dog. Vicky and Fifty were the best of friends.
Springtime also means spring cleaning time and with my new Dyson, bought with some wedding present money, I was all set and happy. I mean look at my face for heaven sake! A new vacuum cleaner shouldn’t make anyone that happy. Well, unless you had been dealing with this
before you got it.
My very first pâté day… translation; my very first ‘stay as far away from the bucket of goo as possible and take photos‘ day. As gross as it is, I will say this about pâté day; 1. I think it’s nice that the whole family gathers to do this yucky activity together, 2. I respect the fact that Papa is making sure the entire boar that he killed is used and none is wasted, 3. Having copious amounts of homemade pâté means I always have something to bring when invited for an apéro somewhere (seriously, if you know me, then you’ve been given a can of homemade pate), and 4. Pâté day meant that I got to capture the following photo, which is probably one of my favorite animal shots ever.
Ruby also preferred to stay as far away from the bucket of goo as possible. He is far too civilized for that.