Today I bumped into an old friend. One of the first people I met upon digging my oars into the Santa Monica shores some ten years ago. He looked exactly the same (how do men do that?) and was a real pleasure to see. And then he dropped the bomb…he was off to Provence in June.
Ahhh, Provence. How I miss thee, let me count the ways. The most romantic, beautiful vacation. The most delicious wine. The most fantastic food. The most…well, you get the idea. I can hardly believe that four years have passed since we traveled there. How things have changed…
This summer, in contrast, Sam and I are creating a “We’re Tourists in Southern California” calendar. Each weekend we’ll load up the babies and hit _______ (fill in the blank here). We’ve got arboretums, zoos, taco joints, and villas to visit. We are petting goats and eating funnel cake. We are listening to blue grass and counting butterflies. None of these things however, seem as sexy as Provence.
So here, in memoriam, is a walk down memory lane: