Saint Valentin was three days ago, but I couldn't let these photos go unposted or the care and effort that went into what they show go unsung. So here goes.
Until I moved to Paris, I thought I had lost the ability to sleep in. Ever since college, staying in bed past 10 a.m. on a Saturday or Sunday was "late." But since we've arrived that's changed. Work is busy, and many weeknights we're at events at the American Library in Paris or elsewhere, trying to make new friends. By Friday night, I'm usually a zombie. Add to that a couple of late nights two weekends ago spent watching Season 1 of Gossip Girl -- time very well spent, I might add -- and 11 a.m. or later has become the norm for me.
What does that have to do with these photos? Well, this past Sunday, I emerged from our bedroom around 11:30 to find Ashley at the computer in the living room, typing busily away. She looked up, smiled and gave me a look that said, "Nice of you to make it," and then returned to the keyboard. When I got to the dining room, I found this magnificent Valentine's Day spread awaiting me.
Looking closer, I noticed that this was no ordinary toast. Not only was it slathered in peanut butter (which, being rare and expensive in Paris, we consume with the zeal that the English probably had for rationed jam in WWII); the bread was cut in the shape of hearts.
Making my way further on to the kitchen (trust me, our flat is not nearly as large as mention of the various rooms may make it sound), I saw that on this morning we wouldn't be drinking from our usual over-sized Starbucks coffee mugs. We would be sipping from two lovely demitasses.
Saint Valentin couldn't have designed them any better himself.
Looking closer, I noticed that this was no ordinary toast. Not only was it slathered in peanut butter (which, being rare and expensive in Paris, we consume with the zeal that the English probably had for rationed jam in WWII); the bread was cut in the shape of hearts.
Making my way further on to the kitchen (trust me, our flat is not nearly as large as mention of the various rooms may make it sound), I saw that on this morning we wouldn't be drinking from our usual over-sized Starbucks coffee mugs. We would be sipping from two lovely demitasses.
Saint Valentin couldn't have designed them any better himself.
Ashley has already posted a thoughtful Valentine's Day reflection of her own. All that I will add, three days later, are a few words of French that I know: Merci beaucoup, mon petit gâteau. Je t'aime.
Matt just made me look bad after I spent so long talking about how I was ignoring V-day forever more. Matt's lenghty slumber led me to boredom, and in turn, heart overload (and my boredom prior to that led me to shopping for little gifts for him). So, I still hold strong on my thoughts about making sure that the premise of Valentine's Day is everyday. However, this year I was allowed my one last indulgence.
ReplyDeleteYou guys are too cute. Nauseatingly so.
ReplyDelete