Sunday, March 6, 2011

sauce...



paris, france
circa-
who cares?

take. me. there.
well.
take. we. there.

lex says to me the other day...
wait a sec.
back up.
rewind.

preface

walking through Target the other day and rummaging through the dollar bins
in the front of the store...yeah, you know the ones.
hello! perfect, little, silver, ceramic eiffle tower.
you, eiffel tower, just made me smile.
inspired me.
the "little miss" will love you.
you are coming home with me.
we?
noooo...
oui-
noooo...
we?

ha.
super quick french lesson:
we = yes
oui = the correct spelling
?
it's french.
no dig.
ha.

so much more sexy with that spelling so therefore i'm goin' with it.
it's correctly sexy.

post french lesson:
i bought that little silver eiffel tower for $2.50 for my lex.
{and don't get me started with the $2.50 in the $1 bin- gets me every time}



a rainy day in paris...


she loved it, to say the least.
followed by a...
"mama, i heard that there is a bakery under the eiffel tower
that makes the whole city of paris smell yummy."

my world stops.
hard.

"well, i don't know, mama has never been, but we will go.
me and you."

i die.
choke up.
my heart swells.

not because it's some kind of revelation.
well- maybe it was.
whatever it was.
it touched the inside of my heart.
dreaming, wanting, wondering of paris.
she is 7.

it's a big, huge, gi-normas world out there and she will know it.




it's a culture, a lifestyle, a love.
i want to experience it.
i want her to experience it.

Le savior-faire de style
Le savior-faire culturel

we'll take both.
if only we could purchase this at Target...

{screen blur}

the sights, sounds, smells, people, language, love...
i fall madly in love with the mere thought, let alone my existence in this brilliant city.

the lens craves it as well. i won't lie.
gosh.

big dreams, yes.
completely tangible dreams, yes.

maybe for her 10th birthday?
can i do it?
gonna live like i can.
how amazing would that be?

until then...



we bake.
i realize it's not quite the bakery under the eiffel tower...
but it's home.
homemade.
pie.
pizza pie.
with heavenly sauce.



delicious thin crusted slice of homemade heaven.
yes. it was that good.
admittedly,
i don't even know how the pies are in paris, france...
or how much thin crusted pizza is even consumed there.
but does it matter?
it's paris for pete's sake.

all i know is that my little loved filled casa smelled
"yummy"
as does the city with the bakery under the eiffel tower.


à bientôt à Paris

...until we meet in Paris...