I feel like I am living in an alternate world and I never want to leave this magical place. I am supposed to be getting ready to go out shopping, but I cannot compose myself. I just got back from a long run with Perline's mother.
I saw the most beautiful yellow, white and purple flowers on our journey around the outskirts of town. We ran through fields of green with the sweet smell of fresh wheat growing in the gorgeous breeze. I saw so much on our run. There were gorgeous horses of black, white, and brown near a villa where people vacation and a gypsy that had set up camp nearby. We jogged through an uphill trail in the woods and, in broken English, she named and described each flower we saw, told me which poisonous ones to stay away from, and then said, "You must always take care.".
And then there is me, with my American Nike's and grey Yoga leggings trying to soak it all in. I was thinking "Here I am in a town I have never heard of, running next to a woman whose name I cannot even remember, seeing the most gorgeous things in all of my life."
These people are "tres enchante."
The way they do things here is so refreshing. This tiny little house cost 300,000 euros, and they wash their clothes entirely by hand. In America, this would be absurd. But it actually makes perfect sense... They spend time every day together preparing meals or washing clothes and they get to wake up to see the most beautiful things in all the world.
Perline's mother has her very own garden where she grows yellow prunes, walnuts, and mint leaves to make the most wonderful jam and juice. I hope she will send her recipes with me before I leave, although I am afraid they may be too personal for her to share.
In this house, they always sit down together and have meals. This morning, for example, they set the table and we had hot tea with milk, fresh mango juice, and brioche with nutella and homemade jam. They always drink more than they eat here.
It's the small things about France that I really appreciate. Like the smells of fresh purple Freesia and scattered red poppies on the sidewalk, the chat noir (black cat) trotting beside me as I walk to the Patisserie, the double kisses on the face in the morning when I first wake up, the young boys singing on the sidewalk, and the church bells ringing in the distance to remind me that time is passing much too quickly. I'm not ready to return.
J'adore Villiers-Saint-Frederic.
-Swanky
