This weekend was a very special one. For my birthday, along with Valerie and her man who is in town, we headed to the in-laws fantastically adorable home for a weekend full of delicious grub and surprises. It was cold and foggy most of the weekend, which was the perfect context for making hearty gratins and staying cozy by the fire with a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity and some whisky.
We picked vegetables from the garden and enjoyed the calm of the countryside, even having the chance to visit a neighbor’s farm to see his tractor collection. The fact that he makes his own moonshine and gave me some of his homemade eau-de-vie for my birthday was pretty much a cherry on top.
However, I am clearly the most spoiled person alive, as this birthday weekend didn’t end here…. little did I know that coming back to Paris on Sunday night, there were some snazzy people that I really care about waiting for me at Troll Café to drink a beer together.
It all ended with samosas galore, as the best birthday in the world should. I am still in shock about how fantastic and culturally mixed this day was: a delicious French lunch with the family and surprise local brews, homemade eau-de-vie and tractors with a true campagnard who seemed like he had never met foreigners before, surprise beer extravaganza at Troll Café where they have one of my favorite random beers (Mongozo Banana) and then a bag full of samosas on the house from my favorite Indian restaurant. Does this not sound like a dream? I am the most spoiled person alive.
A special thank you to my dearest honey for planning this, and to all of my dear friends who made this day so magical.
After a month on the stateside, I am finally back home in Paris. Despite jet lag and my obsession for immediately putting every single thing back in order, I’ve got some time to relax and breath. Going home to Colorado is never completely relaxing, so lucky we had some beach time in Hawaii. It’s nice to feel bored sometimes.
Whenever I’m flying back over the Atlantic, often a flight filled with first-timers to Paris, I think about how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful city. This life I’ve created certainly seems unreal at times. I also wonder what I had in me that made it happen. Thank goodness it did, because I wouldn’t have it any other way. Perhaps that’s why it hits me when I am so anxious to get back to my stuff. My books. My frame-filled walls. My homegirls. My teacups. My blue couch. Am I ridiculous?
And of course, with some fresh flowers in the room, I can really feel summer in Paris has finally arrived. However, now it’s back to the real world, and a transitional month and the speed really picking up right about now.