A typical humble little Montpellier abode. (click to enlarge)
Lynn is standing in line for cheese. I said to Lynn, this is the pinnacle of French civilization.
Behind this woman, on the top row, are seven different kinds of Roquefort. She is slicing the eighth kind for Lynn. It brought tears to my eyes. I was also channelling my Francophile father, who was with us in spirit, smelling the Roquefort.
The produce.
Le pain, outdoors on the market square.
All of this equals one happy camper. Incidentally, all is well on the home front. Thank god for texting.
Day 18 prompt for a creative pause
1 hour ago
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