I’m feeling nostalgic lately. But I guess with only thirty-two days left in The LPV, a big ol’ case of nostalgia was bound to happen. And what better way to deal with the nostalgia, then with another Behind the Photos trip down memory lane. This one features a family trip to Auvergne in the Summer of 2010.(Behind the Photos are also the perfect cover for the fact that not too many blog worthy things are happening around here lately. It’s a two birds kind of thing).
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When we drive the six hours north to Auvergne, we pass this along the way. Every single time we drive past it, I can’t help but think of Homer Simpson. And then naturally, I think of The Simpsons which makes me sad because while The Simpsons are on television here, it’s without the VO option (when a show is available in VO, it means you can switch it to it’s original language). The Simpsons simply are not the same in French. I can handle a lot of shows in French, like Grey’s Anatomy, and Les Freres Scott (aka: One Tree Hill), but not The Simpsons.
And this is how freaked out Fifty would look on the car ride up there. Look at his face! His eye are 100% full of worry in this photo. Car rides used to be a nightmare, he would get so sick. Thankfully, he’s more used to them now but he’s still a worrywart most of the time and that’s why I’m more than a little stressed about his plane journey to the States. If this is how much he frets about a car ride, imagine him being loaded into an airplane! Ay yai yai! (We took him to the vet last weekend and asked why he was so nervous all of the time and she said it’s just his personality, he’s a nervous nellie.)
When I arrive at French Maman’s house, it never ceases to amaze me how different it is to being at Papa’s house and even in Le Petit Village for that matter; the architecture, the topography, the climate, the vibe… it’s like being in a different world, but we’re only six hours away. It’s nutty.
Here I am relaxing in French Nana’s bar. All we do when we go up to Auvergne is relax. I read the paper and books, catch up on magazines, and drink Rosé splashed with pamplemousse (that’s grapefruit to you and me) and chill. I’m so chilled, I don’t even bother to do anything with my hair #curlygirl
This ASM Clermont rugby ball sitting on its own special little shelf is in French Nana’s bar. Auvergne is rugby country. They freaking love it up there. Even French Nana can fill you in on all of Clermont’s stats and player gossip (bonus of owning a bar with lots of loose lips I guess). And last year when she was recovering from surgery in a hospital next to the stadium, she was thrilled that she could hear the cheers of the match being played next door. I love me some French Nana.