Anyone remember this mess?
Well I slaved and I toiled. I reaped and I sowed. I tilled and I filled. And like magic this appeared…
Et voilà, mon petit jardin. Okay when I said that I toiled and all that what I meant was that I called a guy named Sebastien who came and did it in a day and for dirt cheap, get it? Dirt cheap, I crack me up. When Jerry Seinfeld comes to Paris next month just guess who he’ll be calling for material.
I’m so happy to finally have my own little garden in France but truthfully it scares me. In my old life as soon as we finished a garden we somehow always wound up moving before I could have time to enjoy it. Dear god of moving and chaos: please let me have this one for a while. I’ll give up swearing. I’ll study my French more. I’ll even consider (key word here being consider) getting an actual job, anything, just as long as I don’t have to move again.
I love the bench the most. I sit there and I see terraced gardens, ancient red roof tiles, the medieval church as the bells echo across the river every hour, as if I really ever need to know what time it is. And the pale gravel, so Frenchy with the added bonus of little need for mowing. Obviously any garden is never as lovely as it will be next year but I think it’s a good start. But it still needs something, like a fountain or a statue…
Or maybe just a big old rooster, god love him, doesn’t he look peaceful? Oh yes he does. This moment calls for quiet reflection. This moment calls for serene contemplation. This moment calls for a bucket of ice water.
While he dries off (oh I’m just kidding, I would never do that…again) come sit on my little bench with me, see what I see and listen to what a wedding in Semur sounds like…
Comme c’est beau! ?
I’m starting to wonder though – first we had “Seek and Ye Shall Find” and now we have “Paradise Found”. Then there’s all that hanging with the monks.
Anything you want to tell us Sister Bobbi?
Yes, I am considering the convent. It’s the vow of silence that has me on the fence…
No the Convent just won’t do! Carry on Writing! go Bobbie go!
Thanks Bobbi, my moment of zen for the day
You did it!! It looks lovely. It would be hard not to spend hours and hours out there.
My first thought while looking at the picture of Semur was like looking up at the Basilica in St John’s. Lovely.
What a beautiful, peaceful transition. Thanks for sharing all of it.
P.S. Your hair looks fab, missy. I do believe this whole France-thing agrees with you, no matter what you think is or isn’t happening with your ‘arse’.
*Sigh* The garden is gorgeous, and the bells, well…(back to the beginning of comment, play on loop)
Beautiful garden! You did good. Just one thing – garden gnomes usually have those pointy hats. Yours does not. This is highly unorthodox and should be remedied immediately :)
Church bells give me goosebumps. But what really got me was being able to see the ivy waving in the breeze on that building to your left – somehow that made it so much … more.
Thank you for sharing your France moments with us.
Ahh, serenity. Fresh air, a comfortable lawn chair. . . a pair of possibly ticklish bare feet. . . .
Oy, a bucket of ice water… feet tickling… the resulting yelp either way would no doubt drown out those lovely bells.
I like a path that does not feel the need to go anywhere.
Wow. Bravo. What an incredible transformation.
I’m so glad the ‘recliner’ is a ‘fold-up’!
Thanks for bells…
Holy wow, Bobbi! That’s amazing. It’s like seeing an episode of Ground Force or something. Great job, hun!