It's Me, Sara Louise

So last Saturday we did it. A handful of us not originally from around these parts bloggers met up at Bistro Romain in Aix (I picked the restaurant because I knew the all-you-can-eat beef carpaccio would keep The Husband entertained).

We met up with Aidan first and it was like seeing my long lost friend. Her being from Texas and me being from Texas and both of us having lived in Dublin before ending up in the south of France means that it’s virtually impossible for us not to be BFFs (love me some Aidan).

And then crafty Kirsty from You Had Me at Bonjour arrived (and I say crafty because she’s actually does craft stuff. I need a crafty friend). Kirsty is mad as a box of frogs Aussie funny. She had me in stitches and she taught me something too… when I was chatting about the rugby she said that in Australia when you say, you route for somebody, it actually means, your you know, routing for them… naughty naughty… wink wink… so I corrected myself by saying that I support the French rugby team but I route for Morgan Parra (naughty naughty… wink wink).

Next Charley from 365 Things I Love About France arrived with her two American teenage children who both speak French perfectly and I may or may not be jealous of Charley’s daughter’s hair. Charley is très intéressant and her stories and knowledge of haunted France could keep you entertained for hours (Charley is who you want to sit next to at a dinner party). And don’t you think that since Charley knows all about French ghosts she needs to come to Le Petit Village and sort out the Nazi Ghost Zombies for me? (The Husband had the audacity to say that the NGZs were all in my head… shock horror, right?).

Piglet in France and her husband waddled in next (Piglet did the waddling, not her husband and I say waddling in the most affectionate way). Piglet rehashed the story of her great escape. You see last week Piglet managed to lock her heavily pregnant self into a bathroom while she was home alone and had to shimmy out a window in her bathrobe. You’d think that we were related, wouldn’t you?

And then lovely Tanya arrived (Tanya in Transition, Tanya) with her French husband (we’ve got French husbands out the gazoo) and I found out that French husband’s parents don’t live far from Le Petit Village at all. Good to know, might pop in for an apéro. (Bonjour, I know you don’t know me, but I’m a blogging friend of your lovely daughter-in-law’s so that practically makes us family. Do you have any wine?).

Then finally B arrived. My friend B from Is There Such a Thing As Too Much Cheese (uh, no). B is also an Aussie (so you know what that means, she puts the mad in Mad Hatter) and is in love with Anne Shirley as much as I am (Anne of Green Gables, Anne Shirley). So to sum up: B ❤ Anne Shirley = Sara ❤ B. It's girly math.

(It’s a long one today isn’t it? Don’t worry, were almost finished)

I encouraged The Husband to dig in and eat as much carpaccio as possible because that meant for dinner all I’d have to do was throw a lettuce leaf at him which is quite handy for a Saturday night. But when he finished his whole plate of raw beef while Charley had barely made a dent in hers, and he looked around at all the inquisitive bloggers staring at him, his little Food Whore self got shy.

But then Aidan’s mommy side came out (which really was the sweetest thing) and she quietly asked him if he was embarrassed, and when he said he was, she said it was OK, he could have another one, and not to mind the other children staring at him. So he slowly ate one more but then topped off at only four instead of his normal six or seven.