Busy Dreaming

Last night as I studied I suddenly felt deeply grateful that I enjoy what I do. The first sewing for several days yesterday made everything magically simple, finding the fabrics, pulling threads, cutting, pressing, sewing, giving just the right little pull for the zipper installation, really using the specialised feet which make it oh so much more accurate – and my thoughts didn’t race ahead, just stayed anchored in what I was doing.

There was a photo of lilac on {this is glamorous} http://citified.blogspot.com/2010/03/hearts-may-get-broken-love-endures.html which sent me off at a tangent, remembering Paris, especially the first time, when I was twenty-one. I didn’t speak much French then but was thrilled when I could understand and make myself understood, though I still blush remembering getting flustered in a small hotel with a row of French men drinking and smoking at the bar, when I asked for a room with ‘un gros lit’. “Heh heh heh, ‘un gros lit!’”, then rather too comprehensible incomprehensible comments and nudges. I so loved in the morning flinging open shutters on some scene we had missed when we got in late the night before, backlit cows steaming in a field of clover, a patchwork of ancient French roofs, once even a surprised sheep at eye level. We bucketed our way through France in our battered green mini, rejoicing in the bread and coffee, the vistas of tree-lined roads always leading south, cool cobbled villages and épiceries which always seemed to be closed when I was hungry.

Later, when we had to go to Paris for business I saw another side of France – for one thing, we stayed in more expensive hotels! But the first time was magical.

Julian Merrow-Smith, an Englishman in Provence

About Tricia Rose

Not distracted by shiny objects.
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2 Responses to Busy Dreaming

  1. Nadine says:


    I just wanted to say thanks for stopping by my blog and leaving a comment!
    Have a great day!

  2. Lia says:

    I lived in Paris for a few years when I was younger. It was amazing and I still day dream at times. I would have liked my daughter to go off and live in Paris, but she has a boyfriend who seems intent in holding her back, shame really.
    I use organic French lavender in my products and am lucky that I get it for free, as my adopted sisters mother sends it to me. Every time I open the parcel I am transported right back to the French countryside. Bliss

    Much love

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