someday, france: a sunday afternoon.

I ate this: day-old, cold, oatmeal mushed-up with maple syrup and raw milk. Oatmeal.

And read this: 

And drank the last bit of cold coffee in the pot --which the bitter taste was very refreshing-- after going too far with more than one bowl because I thought I was that hungry...it was lovely before I overdosed on oatmeal.

:)

I did all that at the kitchen table and it felt lovely. Like I was in a whole different city. A whole different country... I just realized that sounded quite un-American sounding...like I'm not at all into Independence Day today...which is untrue, I'm just having a reading day of it!

I'm listening to Carla Bruni while writing this. French everything. Book, music....
I guess that's where it stops though.

Unless you count the drop or two of French in my blood.

I'm even wearing one of my summer dresses today. Weird. But lovely.

Put a hold on this book at the library, as I'm adoring it:
Kissing Adrien
by Siri L. Mitchell.
It's not the complete chick-flick-sap that it sounds or looks like! Whacko marketing people...(sorry, no offense, but really?!)....It's in France. And it has yummy food (like salad with a pastry-wrapped block of cheese) and wonderful walks on the vintage streets in summer dresses.
There's a bit of poetry for ya. ;)