There is no harm in asking...

St Remy de Provence

11th December, 2009

Dear Santa,

If you have a moment in your busy schedule could you please pull up the sleigh in the rue Saint-Honore in Paris. You being the all-knowing-and-make-wishes-come-true-Santa' would know where that is so I won't include directions. If the sleigh won't fit down that quaint old rue you can always take the Metro and hop out at the Palais Royale, the Tuileries or the Pyramides stops. It is a pretty easy way to travel around Paris; the seats are quite comfortable and roomy, the service is speedy and I know that those Parisian commuters would just love to wish you bonjour and bonne fete. Perhaps you could park the reindeers in the Bois de Bologne or the Bois de Vincennes while you scoot into the city. When you arrive outside 173 rue Saint Honore you will see the cutest little boutique called Astier de Villatte and....well....what I really wanted to tell you was this...I just love everything inside that little paradise. 


Santa, I know from past experience that you have impeccable taste and need no help whatsoever in selecting gifts. I am certain that the moment you open the wooden door and enter this 'toy shop' for grownups you will be amazed at the selections. I think you could save yourself a lot of time back at the North Pole if you filled some of the Santa sacks here. Imagine how happy Mrs Claus would be if you managed to finish a little earlier on Christmas Eve and Santa, think of your elves - those happy little helpers could retire to bed early. 

Santa, I know so many of my friends would love a scented candle or adore to have one of Astier de Villatte's signature porcelain cups. 

The 'chequer board' covered paper diary with the gold edges is my favourite diary of all time and as for their perfumes and glass paper weights... I am swooning.

Santa I have my fingers crossed that you arrive in Paris safely and find your way to Astier de Villatte. Anything, any little thing at all that could find it's way into your sack would be completely and utterly perfect.


Until Christmas morning dear Santa...
xv

images astier de villatte, rue saint honore - me 

The lights are on in Paris...

When the lights wrap the Champs Elysees in a tinselly glow I know that it is Christmas. Paris in December sparkles; it is as if she has been sprinkled all over with magic dust and awakes to become a twinkling fairyland. The decorations are also up in our little village of Saint Remy de Provence and that makes me feel very festive. The fairy lights and illuminated banners are hanging from the plane trees, from the sides of the buildings and they are strung across many of the roadways. I am such a child at heart and love to drive around the streets at night or walk through the narrow alleyways and stare at them wide-eyed. I think I am subconsciously re-living a childhood tradition. Way back in my olden days my parents would drive me around the local streets so I could gaze at the Christmas lights and trimmings in our neighbourhood. As a true romantic at heart I never can seem to let go of my sentimental habits.

I often think that the French are the masters of the fairy light - every village, town and city is ablaze with twinkling lights at this time of year. From early December the country seems to scream 'celebrate', 'put on your happy faces', the holidays are here. xv

image champs elysees - me

Do you dial or do you tap?

Meaning...Are you a phone person or are you an emailing, texting, blackberry messenger, facebook or twitter type of person? I started thinking about this on Saturday night when a great friend said to me on parting, "Don't forget to call." I immediately said, "What do you mean, of course I will call." She then said, "Don't be silly, you never call. You are the worst caller on the planet." Mortified, I looked at her with shock and horror, "Is that true. Do you really mean that?" Her knowing look said it all....

I am a bad telephone person. I stand guilty before you as charged. It is true, I know it and I hang my head in female shame. The prophetic words of Abba, the unforgettable Swedish singing sensations will be forever on my mind, Ring ring, why don't you give me a call? I am certainly not an 'out of sight, out of mind' person but my inclinations run towards the tapping. I will spend hours, days, even weeks writing emails, replying to texts or madly blackberry messangering away. I loose sleep over a back load of emails and the thought of an empty inbox to me is euphoric, it is the same feeling I get after a rigourous spring cleaning. You know what I mean - a job well done, all is right with the world. It is a real 'righteous' moment. On the other hand, when it comes to picking up the telephone something always seems to get in my way. I can't really say I am too busy because we are all too busy and I can't really say I don't like chatting because I do love a chat. There is nothing better than a good chat, a good cuppa and a good girlfriend (sadly I had to forgo the cigarettes from that winning trifecta years ago). 


I think my busy little tapping fingers have taken over my social skills. I have let my fingers do the chatting. Without knowing, tapping has become second nature to me and my preferred choice of communication...quelle horreur. In the mean time I will be practising my newly found, charming telephone manner - no call will be too long and no detail too minor for discussion. I want to make marathon like phone calls. I will chat until my ear or both my ears are burning; a call of this duration will require much changing of the handset between both ears. I will chat until I no longer have one tiny word or catchy little anecdote left inside to spin. I promise...


What do you think....dial or tap....tap or dial? Which one are you? xv

image - me

One very romantic gesture...

I have always thought that having a birthday in December is mixed blessings. On the one hand I think December birthdays are easy to remember - we are in the festive, let's celebrate mode - on the other hand the closer they are to Christmas the more I think you get short changed. I am a February birthday and when I was younger I always thought that the ideal month to be born would be July, fat bang snap in the middle of the year - six months between presents was probably how my greedy little mind was working back in the day.

So this post is a post to celebrate all December babies and one December babe in particular. A few weeks back I received a very sweet and what I thought to be totally romantic email. Alas, it was not for me but it was a very lovely request from a great guy called Mike. You see his adored wife is celebrating a birthday - in December, December 6th to be exact - and this particular birthday is what he described as 'significant'. I think that all birthdays are hugely significant and deserve to be announced from on high; Mike's idea was to tell the world from her favourite blogs. Any guy who can secretly tap into his wife's computer, understand how her blog works, find her blog buddies and search out their email addresses is a legend. That is one gorgeous and adorable gesture, n'est ce pas? 


Who is celebrating her birthday? It is Jenny at My Favourite and My Best. I have been reading Jenny's blogs for as long as I have been blogging and I look forward to her takes on what she considers her favourite and her best. She is witty, sometimes cheeky and manages to say what I would never have the nerve to write. I love that. When I read some of Jenny's funnier and naughtier posts I always wish I were less reserved and braver and that I could come out and tell it like it is, just as she does. 


Jenny, I wish you the happiest of days, of years and of lifetimes. I am sending you lots of kisses and birthday wishes from Provence...so go ahead blow out your birthday candles and make a wish, many wishes....xv

image - carla

The French Anniversary....'I Do'

are those two little words that change a life forever. When many are cooking turkeys and pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving I am celebrating a wedding anniversary. My wedding anniversary at the end of November not only marks the day I said, 'I do' but it is my official countdown to Christmas and the holidays.

A wedding anniversary is big, in my book anyway. It is a day for reflection and gratitude, it is a time for happiness, sentimentality and a little melancholy; it is a reminder of who you were and who you have become. It is a day for reminiscing; remembering the triumphs and the challenges, laughing about the funny and making the most of the sad. Above all I believe it is a day for romance. Marriage has its moments and those of us survivors know that there are some moments that are best forgotten. The wedding anniversary is a day to remember only the good and the great and to luxuriate in the pure romance of love. 


Where you might ask is the person who said, 'I do' to bathe in this perfect glorious moment? The answer for me is simple, if I could choose one place it would be Paris, always Paris. This city is made for lovers; it is a city that makes even the hardest of hearts melt and the least romantic of souls soften. Paris is a city to re-awaken the senses, to feel alive and to embrace the future. Meandering through small cobbled streets, crunching gravel in the Tuileries or idling hand in hand along the banks of the Seine are the simplest of pleasures but in a setting like Paris they becomes unforgettable. Whether you are squashed together in a cafe laughing over an espresso, savouring an ice-cream on the Isle Saint-Louis or being spoilt beyond belief in a glamorous restaurant, Paris is all about the ambience of dining a deux. What would be considered simply uncomfortable anywhere else in the world is tete a tete cosy and amoureux in Paris. Time spent in Paris is all about the looking, the soaking it up and the taking it in; the joy is in marking the moment and breathing in the beauty.


The fairy tale Paris, the one I want to believe in, is a city that pays tribute to and reveres love and it is in these tender gestures that we can celebrate the greatest love story, a wedding anniversary. Paris is a city that can make you forget the everyday, live for the moment and dream of the happy ever after...I did, xv. 

image - me - paris

It's a problem, but a good one...

I think I might be a Christmas decoration 'junkie'. I know I need to stop buying baubles but every time I see anther pretty little thing I just feel an overwhelming need to have it. My willpower deserts me, the jolly decorating demon grabs hold and I succumb. All those practical thoughts of 'enough is enough' escape me. That old dog of an idea that last year's decs are perfectly fine for this year just doesn't cut it. Of course I need another one to complete the picture, finish the tree properly and spread all that love and good cheer. 

I have been collecting Christmas decorations ever since I can remember and they have been my way of marking moments. I can glance at any of them and know where and when I found them. They conjure up memories of my family and our travels and they remind me of my childhood. It has always been my tradition to mark each passing year with an addition.....

I guess there are worse problems... xv

image - carla